Gerard, Ray, and Frank - the showdown.
Chapter 12. What the H-E-Double Hell?
If I had walked in on three little people dry humping while Jewel yodeled to Pearl Jam and Prince pleasured himself with a cross, I couldn’t have been anymore surprised than I was at that moment.
Frank’s eyes fluttered open, and he scrambled to make sure the blanket covered him properly. His mouth hung open, like he was trying to form words, but his brain had imploded too much for him to say anything. All he could do was give a strangled, “I can explain.”
He had accidentally pulled the blankets back too far, because Ray was right out in the open. He struggled into his boxers, blushing and stuttering, as if anything he could say would make me not want to rip his Goddamn head off by the afro. “Shit… U-Uh… Sh-Shit… Oh, sh-sh-shit…” was about all Ray could manage at the moment.
“What the hell is this?” I growled. My face was flushed, chills running up and down my spine. I was hoping this was all a bad joke. I couldn’t believe it. I had a car full of black roses and pink carnations, as well as a case of Pepsi and some Superman comics. If my VW Bug had been able to hold more, I would’ve put it there, but right now it looked like a traveling garden. And now this. My best friend naked and babbling, my lover on the couch looking at me with those fucking simpering brown eyes. As angry as I felt, it was nothing compared to the sickness in my stomach. I racked my brains for any clue that they could’ve been together. I mean, Frank couldn’t just drive over to Ray’s and fuck him out of nowhere.
“Oh, my God, Gerard,” Frank whispered. He was curled up in shock and fear. “Oh my God, Gerard, I’m so sorry…”
“Sorry?” I hissed. I looked at them back and forth. “You’re sorry?” My voice broke, and I couldn’t talk around the prickling lump in my throat. I just shook my head, lips pursed. I collapsed onto the armchair where I’d sat so many times before, in laughter and in tears, with Ray listening to me.
That bastard. I put my head in my hands, shaking with anger.
I could hear Frankie hurrying into his clothes. Finally, fully dressed, he sat next to me on the armrest. I looked up from my hands to see that Ray had left us alone.
“Gerard.” Frankie’s voice was thick. “Gerard, I am so sorry. You have no idea.” When I didn’t answer, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you wanted to fuck Ray,” I laughed, my chest hurting.
Frankie nodded slowly. “I guess I did. I didn’t really realize it, but…”
“Didn’t realize it?” I stared at him. “How long has this been going on?”
Frank held up his wrist. My mouth fell open when I realized he was checking his watch. “Hmm,” he muttered. “About… An hour and a half?”
So he could just fuck him out of nowhere!
“Are you kidding?” I glared at him, sinister. “ARE YOU KIDDING?!” Ray ran in, but I held up a hand for him to stop. I turned back to Frank. “AN HOUR AND A HALF? YOU SLUT! YOU’RE THAT KEEN TO CHEAT ON ME?”
“I’m miserable, Gerard!” he shouted, making me back up. I’d never seen him so pissed. He made me feel like I was in the wrong, which was ridiculous, taking into account the fact that he’d cheated on me. “I’m miserable with you! I can’t stand you lately! Mister Sex God, Lead Singer, Teenage Girl Idol! It’s sickening! You never want to be with me, and when you do, you give me no choice in the matter!” He huffed and started pacing. Now I knew how mad he must’ve been. “You used to be so kind and gentle! Now you’re, you’re, you’re a pig! You’re disgusting! Either you’re totally ignoring me, or you won’t leave me alone! Choose one, dammit, and stick to it!” He turned and met my eyes. “Either we’re together all the time, or none of the time. You missed your chance. I’ve made up your mind - none of the time.”
I felt like he’d punched me in the gut. I staggered back, staring at him, mouth open like a retard. “But I love you!” I yelled desperately.
Frank shook his head. “I can’t love you anymore. It’s too hard. I don’t love you, at least not now. Because you’re not you. I loved Gerard Way. But now…” He stared at me, eyes full to the brim with pain. “I don’t even know you anymore.”
I stared right back. I could only hear the same eight words, over and over again. I can’t love you… I don’t love you… I can’t love you… I don’t love you…
I swallowed hard, nodding slightly. I folded by arms and took a deep breath. “Okay,” I whispered. I sniffled, sounding like a five-year-old. “Okay. I’ll, uh…” I ran a hand over my face. “I’ll get your stuff over here, help you move in with Ray.” I walked over to Ray and planted a hand on his shoulder.
“Gerard.” He stared at me earnestly. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I really didn’t.”
Then why did you? I thought bitterly. I shook my head to shut him up. “I’ll get over it,” I lied. “Someday,” I added, for good measure. “Just promise me one thing.” I glared at him, our eyes meeting deeply. “Take care of Frankie. Treat him the way he deserves. Because, so help me God, if you ever hurt him, I don’t know what I will do to you.”
He smiled weakly. I wanted to punch him. He ruffled my hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll take great care of him.”
I nodded and walked out, not turning back, because I knew that if I did, I’d end up tackling my best friend. Instead, I drove home in my fucking greenhouse-car. Once I got home, I spent an hour throwing all the flowers and comics away. (The Pepsi I kept, because I had been meaning to get some anyway.) I then set to work boxing up everything Frankie owned - a box of eyeliner and eye smudge, his skeleton gloves, and a picture of him and me, him with his damn X’s on his eyes, me with my idiotic black mask. I tossed them into a suitcase.
Fix your damn eyes, I thought spitefully. You look like an idiot. I glared at the gloves. And I hate your fucking gloves.
Staring at the box, I could feel the walls of my mind breaking down. Take your gloves, fix your eyes, and leave me alone…
Author's Note: If you liked it, let me know! If you didn't like it, let me know (I guess)!