Hey there c: So after watching The Perks of Being a Wallflower about a hundred thousand times, I decided that I needed to write a fic about it, because, though it is an AMAZING film, one detail was unsatisfactory to me: the CharliexPatrick story was left unfinished. So naturally I had to correct that, if only in a story online. This story will focus on the pairing CharliexPatrick.
NOTE: This is only chapter 1 of, I dunno, maybe 6 or 7. So pleaseee R&R and let me know if it's worth continuing. c: Thanks!
-Gabbie
(PS: As with all stories on here, I own nothing. Though I wish I could tell you otherwise, Patrick does not belong to me. Nor does Charlie. Sigh.)

PATRICK POV

Dear friend,
I know that you like to write letters. A lot of letters, as you've told me. It seems to be therapeutic for you and, being that I'll take any help I can get right about now, I'll try it. Who knows; maybe it'll do something for me.
Ha. Good one. As if anything could fix the mess I made.
I've never been a self-loather. Low self esteem was never an issue of mine...until now. If I've ever hated anyone - and believe me, I have hated quite a few people -, it was a small matter compared to how I feel about myself right now. I fucked up. And no amount of letter writing, no matter how relaxing, is going to change that.
I know this is absolutely no consolation whatsoever, and it's not like I'm ever gonna even send this letter to you, but I need you to know that I am so, so, so, incredibly sorry. I know, those words mean nothing, but never in my life have I been this sorry. Then again, never in my life have I been so wrong.
What the fuck am I doing, anyway? This "therapy" is a crock of shit and I know it. This is doing nothing but reminding me that you were the victim, and I am an asshole.
I'm gonna stop pitying myself now and take a walk. Hopefully I'll get struck by a car or sucked up into a tornado.
Pathetically, hopelessly, eternally yours,
Nothing

I paused before writing the sign-off. He never called me "Nothing". I had once told him that, in his writings about Sam and me, he should call me "The Falcon", a name to which he'd taken a liking. Every once in a while, when I wasn't expecting it, he'd use it to get my attention- "Hey, Falcon!"- or when he and I took our car rides to our favorite spot in the park- "Hey, Falcon, look at that!" It was just a joke, of course, but to me, it meant so much more than that. It was like our little secret.
One of many "our little secret"s.
So, since it was he that I was writing to, it seemed wrong to sign the letter "Nothing".
And yet, it was so right. Because that's exactly what I was: nothing. I was nothing to my once-friends, and I was nothing to Sam, but worst of all, I was nothing to Charlie. And in that moment, I was certain that nothing could be worse than that.

End chapter 1

...So yeah. c: Clearly this is only the beginning, because there are many questions left unanswered here, so I would greatlygreatlygreatly appreciate it if you could R&R/let me know if I should keep going with it. I have the rest of the story planned out already, so just let me know what you think.
Thanks so much!