Chapter Three: February - The things you do for - er - love?
Saturday, 1st February
90kg (how did that happen? IN ONE FUCKING DAY?), 18 beers (how did that happen? Oh okay, guess I can't blame that one on lousy scales, lousy drink measurements ... now I'm on to something), 12 cigarettes (now that is something to be proud of).
2 p.m. You know, the only good thing about starting work early (even though I had one hell of a hang over and didn't want to leave the unusually cuddly and docile Frank), is that you finish work early.
Sure, I know I'm probably turning into a pathetic, love sick fool, but I couldn't help and think about Frank for my entire shift. I know the night before at the record label party didn't exactly go as smoothly as I had hoped, but once the alcohol wore off so did the paranoia and by the time I woke up this morning I was thinking much more clearly.
Who was I kidding? Frank liked me; after all he came home with ME and not that stupid drummer of his ... what was his name again? Simon?
Anyway, I woke up this morning with Frank nuzzling into my neck and sighing in contentment as he looked up at me and smiled.
"Pick me up this afternoon so I can spend the night here with you again?" he asked, so sweet, so innocent. I just sighed loudly and sheepishly wrapped my arms around his shoulders as I kissed the top of his head.
"Uh-huh!" I breathed, staring at him lovingly.
Still, it was that image that got me through no less then eight ass slapping’s from my manager Brad, four suggestions of a threesome from my fellow cashier, Stacey and one rather shy question from my best friend at work, Nathan, that went something along the lines of "so, you and your boyfriend ... I-is it serious?"
All in all, not a bad day. I even grabbed a coffee from the nervous Starbucks barrister, Sam, who smiled at me as though he was completely terrified as I accepted his offer for chocolate powder on the top of my cappuccino.
Does that sound dirty? I'm not sure if it was intended that way or not.
Either way, when I finished my shift and climbed into my car I couldn't quite wipe that satisfied smile off my face. After all, I was an extremely sexy and desirable man. Why else would half of 'Barnes and Noble' be after me and my sexy ass?
By the time I arrived at Frank's house, I had developed such a smug swing in my hips when I walked that I almost threw myself off balance and tumbled up his front steps. Making sure nobody noticed my rather unexpected stumble I straightened my work clothes and knocked confidently on Frank's door.
Yet, the second the door swung open and a gorgeous, tanned, board-short clad man with a perfectly toned body looked me up and down in confusion, I felt that confidence that I had developed during the day take a running leap out the window and splatter all over the concrete floor thousands of meters down.
Late night. New Jersey: Basement. Er - sorry. Guess I should probably finish the story I started. Had to stop writing so that I could calm my suicidal thoughts down. So anyway, where was I? Oh right, I arrived at Franks door and saw the sexy, skimpily dressed image of perfection staring me right in the face.
Just so you know, it WASN'T Frank.
"Can I help you?" the half-naked, good-looking man at Frank's door had asked me as he cocked his eyebrow at me in surprise.
My jaw almost hit Frank's front porch. After all, I may not be the campiest guy on the block, but I didn't mind admitting that this guy was fucking perfect in every way, shape and form. What the hell was I thinking? I should have known Frank could do better then me. I had nothing on this guy!
"Are you lost?" the guy asked after I continued to stare at him in horror and not even attempt a response at his first question.
"Who is it?" a second voice asked as a second person, one that I actually recognised this time, arrived beside the first guy.
"Hi Frank," I greeted, my voice sounding extremely unattractive next to the perfectly manly voice of Frank's gorgeous fucking guest. It didn't go unnoticed by me that Frank was also only in his board-shorts.
Had they been swimming together? Frank didn't even have a fucking pool!
"Gee!" Frank sang out as he grinned happily at me as though nothing was a miss and gestured for me to come into his home.
I pushed past the now surprised looking pretty boy, now noticing how unattractive my walk must be next to his. Swinging my hips around suggestively? What was I thinking? I wasn't attractive at all! Of course Frank would have a man on the side!
Yet, why wasn't he attempting to hide this other guy from me?
"Oh shit. Sorry Gee, this is Brian," Frank said, clearly noticing how my eyes continued to linger on his other 'friend'. I just continued to scowl at him.
Brian who? Brian the good-looking but mentally challenged? Brian with the perfect body yet extreme homophobic views? Brian the guy that was secretly a woman?
There fucking had to something wrong with this guy! There had to be!
"We were - erm - just swimming in the neighbours pool," Frank informed me when he noticed I seemed to be incapable of speaking. "How was work?"
"It was just ABBsolutely boring," I said, unaware that I was still staring at Brian’s perfectly formed stomach as I over-emphasised the word.
How the fuck did anyone get that kind of body? Did he have nothing better to do then work out all day fucking long?
Brian shuffled a little uncomfortably as I continued to stare at him, my mouth still hanging open, until Frank finally suggested that we head back over to the neighbours pool. I, of course, hadn't been expecting a swim so I had no swimmers whatsoever. Naturally a more confident person would have just swam in their boxers, but I seriously didn't want to expose Frank to my extremely pale and chubby stomach, especially not when Brian, the fucking model, was prancing around right in front of him.
Instead, I merely rolled up the legs of my trousers and dipped my feet in the water, watching in horror as Brian and Frank splashed and tackled each other playfully in the pool. A sickly feeling rose in my stomach and for a moment or two an entire movie of Frank and my relationship so far ran through my head as I contemplated every second and wondered how on earth I could have ever figured that Frank would be interested in me.
"You okay Gee?" Frank asked, swimming over to me, the water running off his perfectly tattooed body. I almost groaned in frustration. He was perfect; how the fuck did I think he could ever fall for me?
"Y-yeah ... so, Brian ... what does he do exactly?" I asked, hoping that my current state of employment was at least better then his. Perhaps I could win Frank over with my pay check!
Frank let out his usual high-pitched giggle as he looked back towards the perfect silhouette of Brian.
"He's a stripper," Frank stated and I felt what little hope I had left run at the exact same window as my confidence and splatter just as far as it had.
A fucking stripper? I COULDN'T COMPETE WITH THAT!
"Er - Gee ... you sure you're alright? You look ill," Frank said, still staring at me in slight concern.
I opened my mouth to say something, caught site of Brian's strong arms lifting him out of the pool with great ease and quickly closed it again. Why was Frank still talking to me? Pity maybe?
Frank said something else, leapt out of the pool with as much ease as Brian and lifted me to my feet. It didn't even bother me that he was sopping wet and dripping all over me, I was just so shocked as to how unattractive I must have been next to Brian that I couldn't comprehend what was happening.
Finally we stepped back into Frank's house and he continued to lead me along, his hand now holding onto my extremely limp and unattractive bicep, as he grabbed himself a towel, wrapped it around his waist and then handed me one.
"For your feet," he said, smiling kindly at me.
I couldn't understand why he was still clutching so tightly onto me. Didn't he realise that I was ugly?
Maybe Mikey kept him constantly drugged up so he was unaware of my ugliness. Maybe he needed glasses!
He led me into his dinning room where he hurriedly let go of me and approached two women that were sitting at what was no doubt the Iero household’s dinner table. They both looked up from their cups of coffee and smiled at him with fondness the likes I had never seen before. Frank was definitely adored in his family; I had already picked up on that by how protective his cousins were of him last year.
"Frankie darling, how was your swim?" one of the women asked.
This one I didn't recognise, which meant she was someone new. The other woman I knew, it was Frank's mother. I had only met her once and only very briefly, but I recognised her immediately. She had Frank's eyes and flawless skin.
The woman that had just spoken let her eyes wonder over to me and she looked me up and down before raising her eyebrow at Frank as though waiting impatiently for an introduction. Apparently Frank noticed.
"Oh ... sorry. Aunt Sue, this is Gerard. Gerard, this is my Mum's sister, Sue. This is Brian's mother," Frank said quickly, giggling nervously as soon as he was finished.
I just stared stupidly at his Aunt Sue. Brian's mother? That meant that the sexy stripper in the pool was Frank's cousin! That meant that no matter how attractive he was, Frank couldn't have him!
Well, not legally anyway.
So I'll admit it, I almost fucking did about a thousand back flips!
I was so happy at this news that I practically melted into the kitchen tiles out of blissful relief. I turned to Frank and smiled shyly at him. After all, he did over-exaggerate the word 'mother', did he know that I had felt extremely threatened by his cousins impossible perfectness?
Frank just giggled again and flashed his perfect smile at me as he shook his head. His damp hair swung gently about his beautiful face and I couldn't help but stare at him and feel extremely lucky that he had picked me out of all the good looking people, he no doubt deserved, in the world.
It was at that moment that I turned back around to Frank's Aunt. After all, if I continued to stare into Frank's perfect eyes I was sure that I would simply assault his lips and tackle him to the floor right then and there. The moment I made eye contact with his mother and her sister though, I saw them share a look with each other and grin knowingly before looking between me and Frank with great interest.
"So Gerard ..." his mother began, looking me up and down and raising an eyebrow at her sister, her demeanor had completely changed now. When had I suddenly become more interesting? "Tell me more about yourself."
Frank just laughed loudly again from by my side as I swallowed hard and stared nervously at his mother.
And it was at that moment I remembered that Frank had known he was into guys longer then me. How many boyfriends had he brought home? Did his mother know I was dating him?
I suddenly had no idea what to say to make a good impression and Frank just shrugged his shoulders when I turned to him for help.
All in all, it wasn't too bad. Frank only let me stand there for about fifteen or so minutes locked in awkward, stuttering conversation with his mother and Aunt before he excused himself and me stating that we really had to head off.
His mother objected but eventually they let us go and Frank and I got into my car and headed off to my house where we were once again going to spend the night together without any parents. The second we got into the car he laughed loudly, leaned over and kissed me on the check. I immediately sunk lower into my chair and smiled at him.
What the fuck had I done in this life-time or the last to possibly deserve someone like Frank?
From there we headed home, ordered pizza (cheese only of course) and watched a series of old horror movies that we had seen over a thousand times before. Didn't bother me though, I was watching Frank more then I was watching the black and white murders carrying on to my side somewhere.
Finally we went to bed, snuggling up to one another as per usual and all I could think as I watched him close his eyes and fall into blissful sleep was, boy was I fucking glad he wasn't legally able to date Brian!
But ... what if Brian had friends that were just as good looking and not unfortunately related to Frank? Their family was close, that I already knew. Frank would certainly meet some of Brian's friends. What if they were all strippers?
God I feel ill.
Sunday, 2nd February
91kg (It just keeps going up - SHIT!), 12 beers (but have you seen how much I weigh?), 90 cigarettes (once again, have you seen how much I fucking weigh - gah!), 1 joint (least I think it was pot, found it at the back of my sock drawer).
11 a.m. I'm just lying here in my empty bed, staring at my slightly empty room, just contemplating on what I'm supposed to do now that Frank is gone.
Okay, so I'm over exaggerating slightly. I mean, it's not like he's gone forever, but last night was the end of us spending almost every waking moment together.
Mum and Dad are supposed to be coming back in the next few days or so. Naturally, I didn't want them to walk in and find me and Frank snoozing quite comfortably with each other in the same bed, so I began to go into panic mode. Because, I didn't want Frank to leave either, I liked his company far too much.
But, in the end, I think he realised how paranoid I was about my parents randomly walking in on us during one of our morning make-out sessions, because he woke up this morning and suggested that he clean up all of his possessions, that had accumulated over the past month of him practically living with me, and start sleeping at his own place.
We would still see each other, der! But, there would just be no more sleepovers.
Naturally, I wasn't kicking him out right away. As far as I was concerned, the moment he finished packing up all of his crap, we were going to hang all day long. But, as luck would have it, half-way through him packing up all of his lovely things, his phone started ringing.
It was his mother and she needed him home to help her prepare for a family dinner they were going to have. Apparently it was quite an important family tradition that all family members attend the Iero family dinners. After all, Frank's parents were separated which meant that one of the only times he got to see his father in his busy young adult life was during those dinners.
I didn't, not for a second, convince him to try and stay with me instead. I couldn't be that slack.
After packing up everything he claimed he owned from my bedroom floor, he kissed me goodbye and promised to call me tomorrow morning. Once he had gone, I found I no longer had the motivation to get my lazy ass out of bed. After all, what was the point?
It's strange, I already miss the small mess, that was Frank's random items of clothing and his massive CD and horror movie collection, that had occupied a small portion of my messy room for the past few days. I hate that he felt he had to run away, but I haven't exactly explained or even hinted to my parents that I was dating a guy! I didn't want to shock them. Better I break it to them gently.
Still, call it wrong, but I think it's kind of exciting that Frank and I have to sneak around. I mean, it's kind of fun. The thought of being caught out and everyone knowing, well, I kind of enjoy how unpredictable I've become.
That's right. Good old Gerard Way keeping everybody on their toes.
Go me go!
1 p.m. Okay, so I managed to get out of bed. And yes, the moment I did I wish I hadn't. I suddenly found myself shuffling miserably around the house. After all, I had no shifts today and I had no Frank to distract me. College didn't go back until March this year and well, I fucking had nothing to do!
I simply sunk into one of our lounges, sighing loudly as I did so.
Mikey, who had been watching 'Family Guy' when I had rather loudly sat by him, rolled his eyes before turning to me carefully.
"What's wrong now?" he asked, that sense of impatience in his voice.
"It's just ... I miss Frank," I whined, knowing I sounded stupid. But it had been three hours since I had last seen him and I had nothing to distract myself with!
"God you're pathetic," Mikey stated simply as he turned the T.V. up to drown out my heavy sighs.
Not even my own brother can comfort me now. Guess the one thing I have to keep me going is the knowledge that in less then a months time Frank and I will be seeing each other every single day again. After all, we go to the same college. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm actually looking forward to it this year.
It's weird, last year Frank and I were enemies, it's hard to imagine what I even did back then to pass the time. This year though, Frank and I are dating. I won’t even have to worry about running into him or seeing him with random girls. This time I know he's into me and this time I know that he's all mine!
5 p.m. SHIT! What if Frank gets sick of me? I haven't had much to compare him with, he's my first ever boyfriend, it's different, it's new for me.
Yet, Frank has had boyfriends before, he must have! It's not so new and exciting to him. What if we get back to college and within the first few weeks he's sick of me?
I mean, we'll be in each other's faces twenty four seven, what if he gets annoyed at me hovering around him all the time and cramping his style? After all, we're from different social groups. What if he dumps me?
Mikey must have noticed my sudden horrified expression because he turned away from the 'Family Guy' marathon that we were still supposed to be watching in order to try and comfort me.
"Shit Gee ... what's wrong this time?" Mikey whined, turning the volume down slightly on the T.V. again.
I just took a deep breath as I thought of how best to proceed.
"Well, It's just that -" I began, but Mikey quickly interrupted me.
"Oh shit, forgot to tell you. Now that Frank's gone, Alicia is going to come and stay around until Mum and Dad get back. After all, they already know that I'm straight and interested in girls, I have nothing to hide," he explained, turning up the T.V. as I stared at him crossly. After all, he interrupted my deep and meaningful and wasn't even allowing me to finish.
I didn't bother trying to talk over the television, it was clear he was done listening to my whining.
Tuesday, 4th February
No. of boyfriends I'm supposed to have yet haven't actually physically seem in a few days: 1.
Early morning. New Jersey: Computer Room. Haven't seen Frank since Sunday morning. However he did call me yesterday. Still, it's not the same as actually seeing him. Frank is a visual person, I miss watching him bounce around constantly and flick at his lip ring with his tongue when he's watching the T.V. or -
FUCK! What's happening to me?
Anyway, Alicia has moved in rather quickly, she's already completely settled in. I just sit here eating my breakfast or pointlessly surfing the net as I listen to her and Mikey giggling happily together from inside the bathroom. What the fuck do they do in there for so long anyway?
Now, instead of Frank's pleasant smell of cigarettes and deodorant, I smell girly perfume and shampoo. Instead of Frank's black t-shirts and boxer shorts I find Alicia's tiny singlet tops and g-strings. Disgusting!
3 p.m. Okay, so I've found one plus side in having Alicia here. Girls have great books! I mean, I know my main source of reading material is music magazines and comic books, but these dating books that she seems to have a rather nice collection of are really quite interesting, not to mention informative.
Like, for example, did you know that most men in a relationship with you will be checking out your sister or your friends and have thoughts about having sex with them?
I must admit, I wonder how that works in man on man relationships? I mean, who did Frank think about sleeping with? My friend Bert? Perhaps Ben from college, they used to go to the same parties as each other after all. What about Mikey? I mean, works for men and their girlfriends sisters. What about men and their boyfriend’s brothers?
Late night. New Jersey: My basement. Frank called me tonight as he promised he would.
"Hey Gee ... miss me?"
"Of course I fucking do," I admitted straight away. Usually I beat around the bush and play hard to get, but this time I just couldn't do it. I missed him too fucking much.
Frank just giggled as he said, "awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!"
Was he mocking me?
Eventually we got onto talking about our days. He talked about the day he had spent shopping for a car with his dad. He sounded so excited I just couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for wishing he was still here with me. After all, he didn't see his dad often, who was I to keep him from his family?
Unfortunately I didn't have anything real fantastic to tell Frank aside from the day I had spent listening to Mikey and Alicia giggle to each other behind closed doors.
"Ew, that's gross. You know that they're having sex behind those doors don't you," Frank said with a small laugh that had my heart longing to see the smile that would accompany it on Frank's perfect face.
Fuck I was falling to hard!
But, then I remembered Alicia's books I had been reading earlier that day and suspicion began to grow.
"AH-HA!" I shouted into the phone triumphantly. "So you do think about my brother having sex!"
There was a long pause on the other end as I stared suspiciously at the wall in front of me as though it was Frank.
"Er - what?" Frank finally asked, quite simply.
At the sound of Frank's voice, I seemed to snap out of whatever trance I had sunk into and I slouched lower into the lounge as I realised how stupid I was being.
"Nothing ..." I said, feeling slightly embarrassed for saying that to Frank out loud. "... Miss you."
Frank just giggled his infections high-pitched laugh which made me miss him even more.
"Miss you to Gee," he managed to get out through his gentle laughter. I sighed happily as I slumped even lower into my chair in contentment. "Gotta run though, I'm cooking dinner for Dad ... he doesn't know how to cook any good vegetarian meals."
With that we parted ways and I was left sprawled out on the lounge feeling slightly empty without the sound of Frank's voice in my ear. Eventually Mikey and Alicia's laughter broke through my thoughts again and I moaned loudly as I got up off the lounge and headed to my basement.
The furthest spot away from their rather loud noises of inappropriate joy.
Friday, 7th February
92 kg (FUCK! No wonder Frank is checking out other guys!), 30 beers (I can't live up to his impossible standards! Maybe if I live on a beer only diet I'll get a hot body), 72 cigarettes (beer and smokes only), no. of times I ran over a random runner with my car: 1,000 (in my head).
Early Morning. New Jersey: Lounge room. Frank and I have been seeing each other on and off. I guess it's not as bad as I thought it'd be now that he's moved out. I'm just sick of seeing Mikey and Alicia so happy together without any worries, I wish Frank and I could be like that. But it's still early days and well, we're not exactly the most normal couple on the planet.
The biggest problem I find myself with is that I'm missing Frank more and more as the days and the nights go by and I realise I'm not going to wake up with him snuggling into my neck or kicking me violently as he struggles with whatever dream he may be experiencing at the time.
Sure, he still calls every chance he can, mainly to remind me to go to work, but the more I miss him, the more paranoid I find myself becoming. Which isn't a good thing as I'm paranoid every hour of every fucking day anyway!
I mean, is he having relationships on the side? He'd certainly have time to without me around all the time.
Okay, I know I'm being fucking stupid, but it's not my fault! Frank and I had a lovely time walking through the park in the rain the other day. Least we were having a good time until this young jogger ran straight past us, dressed all in black, his hood raised over his head to protect him from the rain.
I know, sounds like a normal walk in the park, but the jogger turned to Frank and smiled and Frank actually smiled back!
That rather innocent encounter was then followed by Frank sticking his hands in his pockets and smiling sheepishly at me, his lip ring tucking in tighter to his lip making me stare in awe.
"Tell you a secret, I would kill to be a runner," he stated quite simply, still smiling at me. "I just recon they have the best bodies. All that exercise and what not."
FUCK! I couldn't believe what he had just said! How could he?
Yeah, to the untrained ear it would sound like he was merely making an innocent comment about how he wished he could exercise more and blah, blah, blah. But, to me, it was like him turning to me and saying, "wow Gee! That runner had a much better body then you. I wish you would try jogging every once in a while. You're getting a little large around the middle!"
The rest of the walk I was silent and he apparently noticed as he made a special note to hug me tightly and kiss me lovingly on the lips before he left that afternoon. Since then I've been staring at my stomach wishing I could just wake up tomorrow and have it as tight and muscular as all those guys you see in the fucking movies.
Runners? That was the kind of bodies he liked? Why? Why couldn't it be a fucking alcoholic’s body or a smoker’s body? WHY A FUCKING RUNNER?
10 a.m. Call me pathetic, but I felt like talking to Frank today. After all, I hadn't heard from him at all yesterday and I figured, as he's usually the one to call me, I would put more of an effort in this time and ring him.
I dialed, it rang and then I was taken straight to message bank. No sign of Frank. I rang again and again after that and still no answer.
What if he was with the guy we saw jogging in the park? There was certainly some serious chemistry between them when they briefly locked eyes and smiled as he glided past without the hint of exhaustion on his hooded face.
FUCK! Why jogging? I can't compete with that!
1:30 p.m. It's a fucking Friday afternoon and Frank still doesn't pick up his phone. Is it wrong that I want to go out, have a few drinks with him, crash a party or two? I mean, it's Friday after all, that sort of behaviour is what I've become accustomed to. I like Frank well enough to actually want him to join in with my usual festivities.
Why won’t he pick up the phone? If he had the jogger around then surely he would have left by now.
How much stamina could one guy have?
3 p.m. Okay, now it's getting fairly desperate that I talk to Frank. I just got a phone call from Bert. He and Quinn are going out for an early dinner and some drinks at the local bar. I honestly don't want to sit around waiting for my cheating boyfriend to call all night!
Still, the rational part of me that knows Frank isn't at home taking out his sexual frustration on that random jogger makes me continue to call him and leave him messages telling him to meet me at the bar because I actually want him to know where I am and who I’m with.
Because deep down I know he's not a cheater, I know he likes me and I know he deserves to know.
4:15 p.m. FUCK! Pick up your phone!
10:50 p.m. I'm still not a hundred percent sure that going out with Bert was a very good idea. Sure, Quinn was there as well, but they both have a way of making me feel extremely insecure.
Not them, I never feel insecure with them. They're the only people I truly feel connected to. The only people that actually get me, the only people I can be myself around and not to have to worry about doing something wrong.
No, the problem is they make me feel insecure about myself around other people. In this instinct, Frank.
Sure, we get along, we have the same interests and what not, but we just don't seem to get each other. Or perhaps we get each other too much and in there lies the problem. Either way, I feel insecure around him, I know it and apparently so do Bert and Quinn because they played along with that insecurity to the point where I was seriously beginning to believe that Frank hadn't picked up the phone because he was screwing that runner we had past a few days ago.
Anyway, I'll go back a little, only because I'm still trying to process what exactly happened at dinner myself. For the most part, Bert and Quinn were pretty well behaved. Except when Bert asked me, once again, if I had slept with Frank yet.
I tried to lie, I really did, but they could see right through me and promptly burst into their usual fit of stoned laughter.
"Dude! Fuck! Are you afraid of his dick or something?" Bert practically shouted at me causing a few couples sitting near us having a few quite drinks to look up in annoyance.
"No!" I shot back at him, ducking out of the way of the couples prying eyes. "I just ... well, they are ugly."
Who was I kidding? I couldn't fucking lie to them, they knew Frank and I weren't sleeping together. Because if we were sleeping together I was almost positive that he would have been there by my side right then and not looking for sex elsewhere.
Naturally my words were followed by another fit of uncontrollable laughter to which Quinn just shook his head at me and shouted, "You’re officially the worst gay guy ever!"
IT WAS TRUE! What sort of a gay guy thought dicks were ugly?
After that I had had enough and I promptly excused myself from the table and headed to the bar, passing several still glaring couples as I did so.
I sat there, ignoring the laughter that still erupted from Bert and Quinn’s table, and I ordered myself a few more drinks. Finally, I felt someone take a seat on the stool next to me and for a fleeting moment I thought that Frank had got my messages and come to see me.
But sadly, it was just Bert.
"Hey come on man, you know we're only teasing," Bert said after he had ordered himself a drink.
"Whatever," I grumbled, looking around for Quinn and finding him chatting up a group of ladies who were all giggling loudly at him.
"But seriously Gee, I only do it because ... well, I'm jealous."
I stopped looking around the room at that point and my eyes instantly locked on Bert. Had I heard him right? Because, holly Fuck!
My drink nearly toppled out of my hand in surprise.
"J-jealous?" I repeated, extremely unsure that that was indeed what I had heard.
"Yeah. I mean, you and I always had this thing going, but you were never as into our relationship as you are with this one you have going with Frank," Bert admitted easily with a shrug of his shoulders.
I swallowed hard and inspected him closely. I half expected him to just fall of his chair and hit the floor in a fit of hysterics. I mean, Bert was never this serious with me! What was the catch?
"Guess I'm only telling you this Gee because you seem a lot more into this relationship then Frank does. Don't beat yourself up if it all comes crashing down. I know you too well and sorry man, but I just think Frank is all wrong for you," he continued as he lifted up his drink and sipped at it smartly.
Bert wasn't messing around! It wasn't a joke! WHAT THE FUCK?
Finally he just smiled kindly at me and patted me on the shoulder as he got up to go and help Quinn pick up a chick for the night. All I could do was stare after him in amazement.
And now I'm home and tucked safely into my bed. The alcohol not enough to have me wasted but enough to have me thinking over and over again about what Bert had said.
Truth was, Bert did know me too well. He was the only person, besides Mikey, that I think truly gets me. Sure, most of the time I figured he only really knew the good side of me, the one that liked to party and get drunk a lot. But, looking over our time together as friends, I guess he's always understood the more sensitive side of me to, he's just never known how to deal with that.
But, is he right? I mean, is Frank really all wrong for me?
How can he be? We have fun together, we enjoy each others company, we never run out of things to talk about.
No, Bert doesn't know what he's talking about! There is one side of me he has never seen before and that’s the loving side. That's the side of Gerard Way I only save for the relationships I'm in.
And yet, Frank still hasn't called me! Doesn't he know me well enough to know I panic when he doesn't call me back?
Shit! What if I am way more into this relationship then Frank? What if we are just too fucking different?
Midnight. New Jersey: My Basement. You'll never believe who just decided to call. That's right ... Frank.
"It's about time," I said the moment I answered the phone and pressed the small object against my ear.
"Yeah ... sorry it's late but I figured I'd ring and tell you that I'm going away," he stated quite bluntly. I couldn't help but cringe at the harshness of his words.
"W-what do you mean going away?" I asked, noticing how quiet I had gotten. After all, the moment he had spoken so harshly the first words to run through my head were the ones Bert had said to me earlier.
"My Mum, she's planned this holiday thing and forgot to tell me. We're leaving tomorrow afternoon and I had to pack all my shit, that's why I missed your calls," he explained without sounding to apologetic.
"Oh ..." I said, feeling a tight fist close up around my heart. "When are you coming back?"
"End of this month I think. Right before college goes back," he explained just as flatly as he had everything else.
"Right," I stated simply, a million thoughts rushing through my head. Was he really going away with his Mum or was he running away with that stupid runner and never coming back?
"Yup ... so how was dinner with Bert?" he suddenly asked, clearly noticing that I really had nothing to say on the topic of him leaving me.
There was a bitterness in his voice which I didn't like. After all, I had called him and given him plenty of notice about where I was going and who I was going with. If he had a problem with it all he had to do was call me back and ask me to go around to his place and help him pack. I was NOT in the wrong here.
"And Quinn," I said harshly, annoyance finally catching up to me.
"I said and Quinn. I had dinner with Bert AND Quinn," I pressed, not liking his tone at all. Why was he pissed off? If anything I should have been the one that was pissed off!
"Whatever," he shot back and I could hear him zipping up some bag or other in the background.
FUCK! He was leaving, he was going away! What if he met someone else whilst he was away? We haven't been going out for that long, I'm not that fantastic, he'll find someone else!
Instantly I went into panic mode and the only thing I could do was snap at Frank. After all, I was pissed; I didn't want him to leave! Not after all the confusing thoughts Bert had put into my head. I needed him to stay and convince me that we were fine, that he was as into me as I was him.
"Look Frank, don't get shitty with me," I snapped, not liking his tone at all. "I gave you plenty of notice so that you could join us or give me a better option, one that involved you, but no you just ignored my calls."
"I said I was packing," he snapped back, just as fiercely.
"I heard you! Doesn't mean you couldn't have checked your phone every once in a while just to make sure there wasn't some sort of emergency or something!"
And then we were fighting.
"I told you I was busy. I had more important shit to do," he explained harshly.
More important shit to do? What, like the black-clad jogger in the park for example? FUCK!
I was his boyfriend; I was supposed to be important. How was packing to move away from me for a few weeks more important then - well, then me!
"Whatever Frank," I muttered, a million horrible thoughts rushing through my already confused head. "See ya around."
Then, just like that I hung up the phone. End of discussion, end of argument. That was that.
And he didn't even try to call me back! Not even a text message or anything. Guess I really did it this time.
Thursday, 13th February
Early morning. New Jersey: Starbucks. I have spent nearly every day since Frank has been gone, sitting in the local Starbucks just trying to draw. Unfortunately though, every sketch I start seems to end the same way. An alien with a lip ring and a half blonde, half black coloured hair-do. A monkey with ripped jeans and a pink belt. A toaster. Hmmm, not even sure about that one, but I swear by the time I was done it even fucking looked like Frank!
Yes, I have heard of him since our argument that fateful night before he left. I didn't see him before he left and he's only called once. Our conversation was blunt and very uninformative. Like, I still have no idea where he is or why exactly he had to go on a family holiday when he was in his twenties and could just give them the middle finger and say, "FUCK OFF! I have better shit to do!"
I mean, I'm seriously beginning to wonder what the rule is for boyfriend/boyfriend relationships. I mean, how much are we supposed to call or text or what not when one goes away? How much is too much? According to Alicia's books one conversation each night before going to bed means that you are in a healthy relationship.
Now I have definitely not spoken to Frank that much lately.
Therefore, our relationship is unhealthy!
Worst part is, it's not like I'm not going to any effort, because I am. When we first started dating at the beginning of last month I would try and converse with him on MSN and I would text and I would email; all he did was call. He hated MSN because you could never quite read what context what the other person was saying was in. He hated text messages for the same reason; they always came across as blunt and unemotional.
Naturally, this slight difference only made me think back to what Bert had said. Was he right? Frank and I really were very different. For instance, I have received more text messages from Quinn, Bert, Mikey and even Ben whom I haven't seen since college broke up last year, in the past few days then I have from Frank in the past month!
The only time Frank ever texted me was when he was chasing me at college last year. Now that he has me, he doesn't have to put in any effort; his true colours are finally coming out!
See, I know all about it. I've read all of Alicia's dating books. She's even started hiring some out for me and we have discussions about certain chapters every now and then. It has certainly bought us closer together. She even ditches Mikey to come and converse with me sometimes. She says I get 'it' way more then he does. Whatever 'it' is exactly.
It has certainly opened my eyes to a lot of things.
Like how unhealthy and out of shape Frank and my relationship is.
FUCK! Now the cup of coffee I have been sketching is covered in tattoos! Frank's tattoo's!
I've got to go home. I'm halfway through 'How to detox your relationship!', if I finish, perhaps I'll find out how to fix my failing relationship.
2 p.m. Well, I never did get to finish 'How to detox your relationship’; I was sent to my room by Mikey instead.
Once again, let me go back...
So, I arrived home from the coffee shop and threw out my sketch book. After all, I didn't want everyone to know that I couldn't get Frank off my mind. How pathetic was that?
Anyway, I threw that out, grabbed myself a couple of beers, grabbed my book and made myself comfortable on the lounge. Within minutes I was sitting on the edge of the lounge, flinging my beer around dramatically and shouting "OH MY GOD! It's so true! ... SHIT! I know! Happens to me all the fucking time."
I'm not sure how long I was sitting there reading chapter after wondrously informative chapter, but it must have been a while because by the time I looked up from my book all the beers I had brought with me to the lounge were empty, the room was dark as the sun had gone down and Mikey was standing a few feet away from me, looking on in quite concern.
"Mikes," I welcomed him happily. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough," he said, watching me closely and shaking his head. Was he angry at me? Were those beers I drank his?
"What's that supposed to mean? Mikes ... are you mad?"
"No, I'm not mad ... Gee - I'm seriously really worried about you." He sounded so solemn that for a moment or two he even had me worried.
"You are? W-why?" I asked. I had only had four beers! That was good for me!
Mikey just looked at me as though he was about to say something that was going to be extremely painful for him to let out. He stepped towards me and took a deep breath.
"Gee ... Alicia is a girl," he began. "And you're not! That's why Frank likes you."
I just stared at him, my face scrunching up into honest confusion. What was he getting at? Had I given him some sort of impression that I was trying to turn myself into a chick?
And that was when he started waving his hands around and screaming at me.
"STOP READING ALICIA'S DATING BOOKS! THEY'RE TURNING YOU INTO A FUCKING GIRL!" he shouted, causing me to jump out of my seat in surprise.
"B-but Mikey. Frank and I need help," I explained, waving the book around in front of him.
"NO YOU DON'T! Your relationship is perfectly healthy for this early on. You're supposed to have the odd disagreement here and there, keep the spark alive ! These books -" he snatched the book off me, ignored my whine of protest and continued to wave it in front of my face to prove his point. "- they're turning you into a miserable mess. STOP - READING - THEM!"
A surge of anger raced through me. I couldn't stop reading them! They were my life line whilst Frank was absent. I let out an angry growl and leapt at my brother, my hand reaching out just in time to snatch the book back.
"HA!" I shouted triumphantly.
"You know what?" Mikey said calmly, crossing his arms across his chest and raising an eyebrow at me.
The next thing I know he disappears up the hall way. I leant forward out of curiosity to try and see which room he was going into. From the angle I was on, I couldn't really see, nor did I care. Mikey was being a jerk. I didn't waste my time with jerks.
When Mikey came back into the room, his hands were hidden behind his back as he walked towards me with a cocky smile on his face.
"What you got there?" I asked, staring at him suspiciously as he stopped inches in front of me.
"Don't lie to me. What's behind your back," I whined, trying to twist my body around to get a better look at what he was concealing.
But I leaned forward to far and clearly Mikey had been expecting it because one of his arms shot out from behind his back and ripped 'How to detox your relationship' right out of my hands once again.
"HA! Now who's laughing," he shouted over-dramatically and his other hand finally revealed itself and I gasped in horror. It was filled with a stack of the other books Alicia had either leant me or borrowed for me.
"Give those back!" I shouted and he just smiled smugly at me and shook his head.
I couldn't take it anymore. With an angry cry I lunged at Mikey, but he side-stepped hastily and left me tumbling onto the ground instead. The next few clumsy steps were a bit blurry as I had had four beers and was blinded by rage.
So, Mikey was quick on his feet and ran off down the hall, all my books in his skinny arms. I knew I had him cornered when he reached the bathroom. He even spun around and looked at me fearfully. It was my turn to smile smugly and I made one last dive for him, knowing that I was going to get him this time.
It seemed he DID have some sort of plan, because he side-stepped me once again and I went tumbling to the bathroom floor. Just as fast, Mikey jumped over me, dodging the hands I shot out to try and trip him up. Once he reached the door he slammed it shut about the same moment I charged and slammed right into the now closed door.
"Let me out!" I yelled as I banged my fists on the offending wood. The handle didn't work, he had pinned something large and heavy against it on the other side. I was stuck!
About ten minutes later, he finally let me out. I just glared at him.
"Could have at least given me a fucking beer," I whined, quickly glancing around the house. Why had he locked me away? What did he steal? What was different?
Finally I realised that his hands were empty.
"Where are my books?" I asked, crossing my arms across my chest and sticking my bottom lip out in angry disappointment.
"I hid them ... they're not going to ruin your life any longer. I want my brother back," he said, glaring right on back at me.
It was at that moment Alicia poked her head out of Mikey's room, rubbing at her eyes and staring at us in confusion. How the fuck had she been sleeping through the whole fight?
"What happened?" she asked, looking between us.
"He stole my books!" I shouted out, pointing an accusing finger at my brother.
Mikey simply took a deep breath and approached his girl friend slowly.
"Babe ... Gee has a serious problem. Now I've hidden all of the books and I'm begging you not to bring anymore into this house. I don't want his problem getting any more out of hand. Don't tempt him ... he needs to get better."
I almost cried. It was touching.
FUCK! I had been so blind. I really did need help.
To my great surprise Alicia just came up to me and threw her arms around my neck.
"It's alright Gee. I'm here to help."
With that, Mikey approached me to, this time a kinder expression laced his features.
"Me to," he said simply. "Me to."
Friday, 14th February
93 kg (okay, now it's getting desperate), 28 beers (I have to do something to keep my twitching fingers off those dating books), 100 cigarettes (I'm recovering from an addiction, it helps), no. of dating books have thought about: 2, 000 (Mikey was right, I was an addict).
Early Morning. New Jersey: Dining room. Okay, is it bad if I didn't remember Alicia and Mikey's anniversary? I mean, it is their anniversary isn't it?
It has to be!
I was just sitting here having coffee with Mikey and the next thing I know Alicia places a breakfast of chocolate chip flavoured pancakes (his favourite) right in front of him and kisses him so passionately I almost threw up in my mouth.
I bit my tongue, not being game enough to ask what all the fuss was about. After all, if it was their like one year anniversary or something I was positive Alicia would be simply devastated that I didn't remember.
Has it really been one year?
10:00 a.m. Okay, so when Mikey let Alicia pick out the early morning movie that we were going to watch I got extremely suspicious. Its Friday ... we loved Friday's. Friday the 13th was always on a Friday, 'The Cure' sung about Fridays ... it was our day! We always picked the movies on a Friday!
When he came out dressed in something other then jeans and an 'Anthrax' shirt, his hair all slicked back and his glasses void of grubby fingerprints I began to get extremely suspicious. What the fuck was the occasion?
"So Gee?" Alicia said, turning to me after receiving an unusually affectionate hug from Mikey. "Got any secret Valentines this year?"
I froze. It wasn't their anniversary it was fucking Valentines Day!
10:30 a.m. You know what. I don't care, Valentines Day is for girls. Mikey and Alicia can continue their sickening routine, I give Mikey 3 more hours before he's burping and farting again like he usually does. He can't keep up this perfect boyfriend crap for a whole fucking day!
11 a.m. Okay, I know I don't care about Valentines Day all that much, but I have a fucking boyfriend still ... don't I?
Why hasn't he called? Texted at the very least.
Last year he sent me a message. Sure, I didn't know it was him back then, but if that's what it takes then I really don't mind if he steals someone else’s phone and message me from there.
I just want to hear from him.
11:30 a.m. Nope, Valentines Day is completely lame, I don't give a shit. Same sex couples don't do these stupid days anyway.
2 p.m. FUCKING HELL! Would one text message kill him?
3 p.m. NO! No it fucking wouldn't. See, I even thought about it. A text message would NOT, I repeat NOT kill him.
9 p.m. It's only 9 o'clock and Mikey and Alicia have already ditched me. Gone to his bedroom, making out all the way...
Whatever! I don't care! It's just another fucking day to me.
Still, I did notice that Mikey was acting very weird. I knew he couldn't keep up his perfect boy routine all day and sure enough by about lunch time, when I started to regularly check my phone for random text messages from, well anyone really, his good behaviour began to drop.
He started smirking at me and acting slightly strange. He even began laughing lightly to himself every time I glanced at my phone and sighed in disappointment when I noticed I still had nothing. Not one single text from Frank.
Eventually Alicia began giving him dirty looks every time he pulled one of these rather hurtful stunts.
I don't know, guess she didn't approve of him making fun of my misfortune.
I'm everyone's fucking charity case.
10:30 p.m. I'm sick of all the fucking giggling. If they're going to have sex, can't they do it quietly?
Saturday, 15th February
11 a.m. Slept in today. Didn't see the point in getting up. Nobody cares about me.
Who am I kidding, sure Valentines Day is fucking lame and pointless, but it's the one day a year that you can go all out and make somebody special feel - well, special of course. I mean, all you have to do is send a simple message or a simple card or something; simply because it's Valentines Day it makes it all the more special.
Guess this just isn't my year.
3 p.m. FUCK! SHIT! And BALLS!
Okay, I may be fucking pissed off as hell at Mikey right now, but deep down I'm just so fucking happy!
I WASN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT!
Not at all.
It was all Mikey's fucking fault I felt abandoned and forgotten about. Why the hell would he pull something like this?
Anyway, I sat watching 'Gilmore Girls' all day long just feeling sorry for myself until I heard a high-pitched yelp coming from the kitchen. Apparently Alicia had punched Mikey rather forcefully in the arm.
"What the fuck?" Mikey said, rubbing at his arm and staring at her in confusion.
"Don't you what the fuck me Michael!" she snapped back, glaring at him, her hands on her hips. "Give you're brother his shit now!"
I just stared at them in confusion, wondering what 'shit' Mikey had been hiding from me.
Mikey just sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.
"Alright! Fuck, can't anyone take a fucking joke anymore."
With that, he marched off down the hall whilst Alicia just turned to me and smiled kindly. All I could think was what the fuck had happened now? Cause I had seriously had enough!
Next thing I know Mikey was re-entering the room, his arms full of what looked to be cards and poorly wrapped presents. I just looked at him in alarm. What the hell was this? A trap! I mean, it wasn't my birthday, why would he be giving me gifts?
"What are those?" I asked, jumping away from them in fright as he placed the items by my side.
"Your Valentines Day stuff ... guess you must have made a real impression this year. There's at least twenty or so cards here."
With that, Mikey slumped into the chair furthest away from me and just glared at the offending pile of Valentines Day paraphernalia as though it had said something to seriously offend him. It was at that point though that I completely ignored him. After all, what the fuck kind of brother hid all your Valentines Day shit and made you feel alone and shitty for a whole fucking day?
I reached into the pile and picked out a card that had my address scribbled on it in hand writing I recognised. Inside was a card that had 'Happy 5th Birthday Dude,' on the front. The best part about it was it had Batman on it. And it also had a badge that had Batman on it and the bold and simple words: 'Birthday Boy'. I smiled in content as I flicked it open:
Happy Valentines day. Glad that this year you're finally all fucking mine.
Sorry I was such a jerk the night before I left. I will explain when I see you in twelve days! Can't fucking wait!
It was short and fucking simple as all fuck, but my god I loved it. It was perfect! I just hugged the card to my chest rather pathetically before removing the badge and pinning it on my chest with a heavy sigh. Then, I turned to Mikey and let loose.
"Fuck you Mikey! Why'd you hide all this shit from me for? Some brother you are!" I shouted, glaring at him angrily.
"Told you he wouldn't find it funny," Alicia announced, getting just as cross at Mikey as me.
To mine and I'm sure Alicia's great surprise, Mikey just clicked his tongue loudly at both of us before getting up off the chair, flipping us off and storming out of the room. He thumped off down the hall, walked into his room and slammed his door so loudly that I swear the whole house shook.
I didn't care. I had more cards to read.
What kind of a fucking brother pulls a stupid prank like that anyway?
8 p.m. Frank's Valentines Day card was by far the best. The rest ... well, I couldn't tell if they were serious or not. I mean, I know some pretty sick people. I don't know whether to laugh, cry or call the police.
And to my great surprise I received a large amount of cards signed by my supposed 'secret admirer' even though I could tell by the hand writing that it was from several of the people at 'Barnes and Noble' that had already sent me signed cards. So stupid.
There was even a card from Bert in the pile. All it said was:
There must be a keg in your pants, cause I want to tap that ass!
See ya soon, Bert xoxo
Other then that I had several boxes of chocolates that no doubt went with some cards, even though I couldn't tell which ones and I even unwrapped a jar of the best instant coffee around (no doubt from Sam, the guy that makes my coffee at Starbucks and clearly has a secret man crush on me) and even a packet of condoms.
They glowed in the dark and I had no idea who they were from.
Still, once the novelty had worn off and the excitement I felt from earlier had finally died down, I suddenly felt like a big fucking jerk. Sure, Mikey shouldn't have hidden all of this shit from me, but he must have had a good reason.
Guess it wasn't fair for me and Alicia to gang up on him like that.
10 p.m. Just came back from visiting Mikey ... And now I have more to think about then ever before.
When the guilt had nearly completely eaten away at me, I caved in, got up from the lounge (finally letting Alicia read all of my cards as she had been pestering me for hours and hours about it), and headed down the hall to Mikey's closed door.
I knocked gingerly waited for him to shout "GO AWAY!" and then entered.
"Hey Mikes," I said, knowing that he was in one of those cranky moods.
He was just lying on his bed, facing the ceiling, arms folded across his chest. I could tell he hadn't moved since the fight in the lounge room. When we were younger and Mum or Dad would yell at him he would march off to his room and just sit there staring, apparently thinking horrible thoughts about all that had yelled at him, until I usually came in to make it better.
I think he had outdone himself today. It had been hours! Surely he had been doing something before I came in. His ceiling really wasn't that interesting. Man that kid could pout!
"Look, I'm sorry I yelled. It's just, I was really bummed out yesterday, would have been nice to get the cards then. Still, guess it meant more getting them today," I admitted, sitting down on his bed.
Mikey just shuffled away from me, arms still crossed, bottom lip still sticking out.
I waited ... and waited. Then, on cue, he sighed loudly, uncrossed his arms and sat up.
"I convinced Alicia it was just for a laugh, b-but ... I only did it because - fuck Gee, I really like Frank," Mikey admitted, surprising me slightly.
I hadn't expected it. What did he mean? I really liked Frank to, but for a moment I seriously thought he had forgotten about me. Why did he do it?
"It's just," Mikey continued when he noticed the confused expression on my face. "Well, I know what you're like and how you get when all the attention is on you. You love it, you really do and who could blame you really, you never really had that at school, I'm glad you're getting it now. I just didn't want you to get cocky and think that you could have all of those other people that sent you cards. Frank's better then any of those people! I really like how happy you are when you're around him. I didn't want you to take him for granted."
He had a point. I did love attention and I knew that if I had of received all of those cards yesterday then I would have definitely got a big fucking head. Because I got them late, I appreciated them more, especially Franks. Guess Mikey really did get me too fucking well and I was actually quite pleased to hear him speak of Frank so highly.
I just smiled at my brother and nodded, pulling him into a small hug. Nothing else needed to be said, I couldn't stay mad at him, nor could I argue with his logic.
Fuck he was a smart kid.
Tuesday, 18th February
92 kg (you just wait, I'll show you - it's going down like a mother fucker), 2 beers (apparently it makes you fat, who would have guessed), 70 cigarettes (but they keep you skinny, even if they do cut your life in half), no. of hours spent exercising: 1 (I know right!).
I called Frank straight after I left Mikey's room on Valentines Day, mainly because I realised that I didn't even fucking send him a Valentines Day card!
I had been so busy worrying about whether or not I would be receiving a card from him that I completely forgot to send him one! The moment I realised this fact I sprinted out of Mikey's room and dialed his number.
Immediately I sprang into the story about how Mikey kept the cards from me and how sorry I was that I didn't send one back. Eventually he stopped me with his usual high-pitched laugh that I missed far too much to be healthy.
"It's okay Gee, I get it ... really I do. Guess it's only fair that I hear from you today, after all, you only received my card today to," he said, still giggling.
What horrible logic. Still, that's why I liked him so much. Too much. I spent fucking three hours on the phone with him just listening to him laugh and talk about 'Psycho Fox', an old Sega game that he had apparently played non-stop for his entire childhood and had oddly dreamt about the night before.
I was up so late thinking about him that I over-slept and was late for work. Lucky my manager, Brad, liked me so much; he just excused my tardiness, as always, with a wink and a slap on my ass.
Still, a part of me felt strangely reborn and I woke up this morning with a new sense of purpose. Instead of becoming an idiotic zombie who studied dating books whilst my boyfriend was away, I was going to do the best I could to get myself into shape so that when he comes back I'll be looking better then ever!
So, I took up jogging!
That's right! I, Gerard Way have started to jog.
I woke up this morning, found some track suit pants (didn't even know I owned a pair), pulled on some plain black shirt that smelt like drawer and borrowed Mikey's running shoes. I stepped outside, breathed in that fresh morning air and ... coughed!
I fucking coughed for like twenty minutes before I could even collect myself enough to put one foot in front of the other. And yes, I actually walked to the park and even stretched like those skimpily dressed chicks do on the exercise channel that Mikey watches so intently whilst eating his cereal in the mornings.
And I swear to you, I ran! For my fucking life! I ran and I ran and I ran and I ran - and about ten - no eleven - nope twelve people passed me! I was slowing down - I was loosing speed! I WAS FUCKING DYING!
How can anyone jog? It's fucking impossible!
Then ... it happened.
"Hey," a voice said as a figure I recognised swung it's perfectly shaped hips right on past me.
It was the black clad jogger that Frank had been checking out before he left!
A great serge of anger rushed through me, after all, he was the dick head that made me think that Frank was cheating on me. Not to mention the fact that he had just out-ran me! Not to mention the fact that he was capable of saying "hey" whilst he out-ran me! How the hell could he run and talk?
What an ass!
Still, he gave me the serge of energy I needed and the next thing I know I'm upright again and forcing my feet to pound the fucking pavement so hard that my ankles began to ache. I ignored them, I was closing in on him. I would win!
... Okay, so I lied.
I wasn't closing in on him at all. In fact, the more I moved my legs, the further away he seemed to get. Eventually I just clasped at my heart, stopped and finally just fell sideways onto the damp morning grass.
I stayed there for a whole hour, about three times longer then I was jogging for. My heart was still pounding, my legs still felt like jelly and I needed a fucking cigarette. So I lit one, lying on the grass, spread-eagled, trying to catch my breath. There I was ... smoking!
"How was your jog?" Mikey asked, trying to hide a snicker as I stumbled into our house hours later (took me that long just to stumble back from the park). My legs finally gave out on me and I collapsed onto the cold tiles in our kitchen.
Mikey merely stepped over me, opened the fridge door, pulled something out and began making something in a glass.
"Whatchadoing?" I slurred in one gasp, after all, I had to ask.
"Making you something to give you more energy. All the serious joggers drink it," he stated, continuing to make whatever he was making, unfased by my apparent collapse right in front of him.
When curiosity got the better of me I crawled to my feet and approached my brother. He spun around and held out a glass that looked like it was filled to the brim with eggs!
Mikey was a genius! Eggs made you stronger! In all the movies you would see these big body builders or really fit people skull these drinks. Had to be good for you.
"Bottoms up," Mikey said, grabbing his coffee and clashing it against mine.
I had this lovely image in my head of Frank coming back home to a perfectly toned Gerard ... Fuck I looked good.
Tipping the glass upwards, I parted my lips and accepted one egg - two egg -
- and then I stopped the pouring of the drink, doubled over and threw up on the floor, one egg - two egg -
"Oh holly fuck in a biscuit! How can anyone drink that shit!" I exclaimed, Mikey just pointed at the regurgitated eggs on the floor in disgust.
"Ewwww ... Honestly Gee, couldn't you have done that in the sink?"
Saturday, 22nd February
88 kg (wait ... what?), 1 beer (that's fantastic - BUT I DONT THINK I CAN TAKE IT ANY FUCKING LONGER!), 12 cigarettes (don't have the strength left to lift my fingers to my lips), no. of hours spent exercising: 4 (what the fuck?)
Midday. New Jersey: The gym. Yes, that's right. Gerard Way is at a fucking gym. And let me say this - NEVER AGAIN!
It was all Alicia and Mikey's idea. Apparently when I said "I'm taking up jogging to impress Frank with my abbs of steel when he gets back," they took me more seriously then I took myself. The second I got home from work, the two of them were standing there in clothes that I didn't recognise. What was this strange style?
"Hurry up Gee, go and get changed," Alicia ordered, sounding so stern it scared me slightly.
"Why? We going somewhere?" I asked, still unsure of why Mikey was wearing clothes that said 'Adidas' rather then 'Black Flag' and 'The Smashing Pumpkins'. Was 'Adidas' some kind of band? Why hadn't I heard of them?
"The gym!" she said happily as Mikey just shrugged his shoulders. "I have a cycling class and I figured that you and Mikey could join me."
"Cycling?" I asked, looking at Mikey for confirmation of what that meant exactly.
"Bikes Gee ... Bike riding! God, haven't you two ever been to the gym?" Alicia stated in annoyance.
Did we really have to answer that?
Next thing I know I'm sitting on this stationary bicycle thing, my ears ringing, every muscle in my body ready to explode. I had no idea how long I had been in the class for but if it didn't end soon, I was going to stop breathing and simply drop dead.
"Gee ... faster!" Alicia ordered, looking over at me from her own bike.
Her slender legs went around and around just as fast as the instructor from hell at the front of the room. Mine weren't even moving anymore. My only comfort was that Mikey was on the bike next to me looking just as worn out.
I don't know how, but somehow we made it to the end of the class. I didn't step off the bike and wipe the sweet off my face in one swift movement like everybody else did, instead, I pushed myself off the handle bars and simply rolled off the back of the seat and collapsed onto the floor.
"Oh my god, is he alright?" I heard one guy ask; Alicia just stood over me and sighed.
All I could do was turn my head to the side and grin in delight when I saw that Mikey was lying on the ground right next to me.
God I love my brother.
Monday, 24th February
85 kg (Oh - holly - poop! WHAT?), 0 beers (apparently because Bert was now my personal trainer, he got to drink my share of the beers to, leaving me with NOTHING!), 23 cigarettes (at least he let me smoke), no. of hours spent exercising: 8 (Bert is trying to kill me!).
8 a.m. Frank rang yesterday morning, hence why I'm up so early. Okay, so it's not like he forced me to get up early, its more he dropped some news on me that made me realise I was running out of time.
"Hey Gee, I'm coming back on Wednesday, isn't that cool?"
NO IT WAS NOT FUCKING COOL!
I didn't have a joggers body yet! He was going to come home to the same, old, boring and fat Gerard! I couldn't have that!
"Oh yeah ... t-that's awesome," I said, talking into my parents home phone as I used my free hands to text Bert.
I don't know why I thought of Bert, I just figured he would be able to help. Okay, so he texted me a few days ago asking when we were going to hang out next. I was feeling pretty cut off from the world and figured I could kill two birds with one stone.
He must have been expecting my message because the moment I hung up the phone, telling Frank I couldn't wait to see him, Bert showed up at my door.
"Hey good looking ... you texted?"
"YOU HAVE TO MOTIVATE ME!" I shouted at him.
Bert just stared at me before leaning in closely and inspecting me so deeply it was as though he was looking into my very soul.
"Dude ... you stoned? It's before midday ... that ain't cool," he said, still watching me closely.
So anyway, I explained to Bert about how I wanted to look good for Frank. I completely forgot about our discussion at the bar and apparently so did Bert. Well, it was either that or he was just so eager to help me that he didn't bring up that fact that I was trying to kill myself to impress Frank and stress just how wrong we still were for each other.
I've got to admit, for someone who doesn't do much of his life, Bert was a fantastic motivator. He slept over (on the lounge of course, even though it took a shit load of persuasion and empty promises to keep him there) and sure enough, he kept his promise to motivate me.
At six a.m. sharp, I rolled around in my bed before snuggling into the warm body next to me. I just lay there, in the arms of this perfect, perfect person before my memory returned to me and I realised that Frank was still away!
Then, who the fuck was I rubbing myself up against? My eyes snapped open and I looked into the smiling face of Bert.
"Morning," he said, smiling at me fondly.
I just stared at him stupidly, trying to figure out why the fuck I still had my arms wrapped around him ... and that's when I realised. FUCK! Even Bert, the biggest alcoholic in the world, had a flatter stomach then me.
"Whatchudoininmibed?" I mumbled, trying to figure out whether I should let go of him straight away or do it subtly so as not to make it awkward.
"Helping you wake up in time for your morning jog," he explained, running a hand through my hair.
I just stared at him looking slightly startled. I couldn't do this, I was taken!
Bert just smiled at me, reached out his arms and gripped my shoulders gently. What was I supposed to do? He came closer to me, his face inches from mine. I froze ... why didn't I realise before now that this was a bad idea?
The next thing I know he laughed wickedly before shoving me roughly. I was so surprised I didn't realise how close to the edge of my bed I was. The push was enough and I rolled to the very end of my bed, lost my balance and fell onto the floor in a mess of blankets.
"TIME TO GET UP!" Bert shouted into my ear as he leaned down from the top of my bed.
It was early, too fucking early. I'm honestly not even sure how the fuck Bert managed to get me out of bed, dressed and down to the park. Yet, somehow, he managed to do it and all before seven. That's right ... in the morning.
And you know what else; he actually jogged beside me, edging me on with extreme calm and poise as I puffed and wheezed beside him.
I mean, WHAT THE HELL? Was I that unfit that Bert the biggest drug addict and drunk in the world was fitter then me?
Within half an hour, I couldn't do it anymore. Bert looked disappointed, but he didn't push me any further and to my great surprise he let me head home. Now here I sit whilst he and Mikey make breakfast whilst dancing around to 'Queen'.
Was that it? Did Bert's motivation only come in small bursts?
8 p.m. So I was wrong about Bert, apparently his motivation knows no end. Whilst he and Mikey helped themselves to one of the best omelets I had ever seen, I was forced to eat egg (whites only, no yolk) on toast (whole-grain - I mean, what's the fucking point?)
Mikey seemed to like Bert pushing me, so much so that he insisted on coming to the park with us. Just to watch me suffer.
So there we were, the three of us, jogging along the same path that I had visited far too often in the past week and a bit. This time though, the path was not going to defeat me. Sure enough, forty five minutes into the run, I was still going. Granted I was all hunched over and wheezing terribly, but I was still standing! It was incredible.
Eventually Bert called for a break as we lapped past the park bench that we had set up our waters and juice. I had done a whole fucking lap of the park! I was a legend, a running champion. Hell, I was already thinking about the Olympics! I was fitter then I had ever been!
"Here, will restore your energy," Bert said, passing me his drink bottle filled with orange juice.
I hated orange juice, but if it would help me, then I was more then willing. Hell, had to beat that egg drink that Mikey gave me.
I took a big sip, feeling quite satisfied that Mikey seemed to be struggling for breath more then I was. Oh yeah!
"This is good," I said, waving the juice around in front of Bert to show my gratitude.
Naturally, the rest didn't last as long as I had hoped. Or, perhaps that was supposed to be the end of our running exercise for the day. Either way, the second I saw that hooded, dark-clad figure bounce past us, I felt my energy completely restore itself.
"Breaks over," I yelled, tossing the drink bottle onto the ground and running after the sexy hooded figure.
"W-wait ... what?" I heard Mikey stutter from behind me, but I was already off.
I ran ... as hard as I could. And you know what, I was so fucking close, it was insane.
Eventually my feet just hit that pavement one to many times and I was off. Even though the hooded jogger had had a head start, I over took him. That's right, with one powerful leap I got past him and I had never, in my whole fucking life felt so happy ... so fulfilled.
My lungs practically jumped out of my chest from the laughter I felt like letting loose. After all, I had just beat him. The hooded jogger who thought he was better then me!
I ran and I ran and I ran. My chest was hurting, I needed a cigarette and I could no longer feel my legs, but I was winning!
At least I was ... and then I saw him again, passing me with the greatest of ease. I was slowing down! He was still going! What the fuck?
I don't know how, but I kept going. My legs pumping harder then they had ever pumped before whilst I somehow just went slower and slower. The hooded figure becoming further and further away. I was loosing him, I couldn't keep up and in my delirious and over-exhausted mind, I saw Frank jogging and laughing happily beside him, fading away into the distance.
I couldn't do it ... I had failed.
"Dude! That was incredible," I heard Mikey say as I finished my second lap of the park for that day and doubled over in front of my brother and Bert, gasping for air that my lungs just didn't seem to be able to get.
"Here," Bert said, passing me the drink bottle.
I was exhausted, I was hot, I was over worked. The fit people in all of those movies I saw over the years poured water over their head to cool themselves off. I felt part of them, I was one with them and so I lifted my drink and tipped. Pouring that cool ... yet strangely sticky liquid all over myself. Wait ... sticky?
"Dude ... that was fucking orange juice," Mikey said, giggling loudly.
"Ew, it's sticky," I whined, feeling extremely sorry for myself. Now my arms were sticking to my side.
"Wow," Bert said, staring at me in awe. "That's so hot."
Eventually I just collapsed onto the grass, attempting to catch my breath. As time passed, I heard feet thunder past me and I finally found strength enough to sit up and watch the fitter people practically fly past me and my lazy, unfit ass.
There he was again, the hooded figure. Still going strong. Fucking ass-hole.
"What is it with you and that guy?" Bert suddenly asked, handing me his half smoked cigarette. I took it and inhaled the toxic fumes gratefully.
"Frank checked him out," I admitted, my words receiving an understanding "ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!", from Mikey.
I guess it all suddenly made sense to him, the reason for my sudden interest in getting fit.
"Is that it?" Bert asked, letting out a loud snort of laughter. "That's the only reason you're pushing yourself this fucking hard?"
I nodded. After all, it was true. Sure, a part of me wanted to be fit and healthy, but that was never going to happen. Mikey and I, we were meant to be unfit, we were meant to be unhealthy and well, just fucking normal really. We were never meant to be the types of people who woke up early, ate a balanced breakfast, that took longer to prepare then it did to eat, and strain their bodies on pointless exercise.
That just wasn't us at all.
Once again, Bert just doubled over in a fit of hysterics.
"Dude! Why didn't you just fucking say so!"
And, just like that, Bert snatched the last of the cigarette off me, stuck it between his lips and rose to his feet. He picked up his drink bottle and stepped closer to the footpath. For a second I thought he was going to start jogging again, but that would be extremely unlike him.
Then, we heard it. Feet pounding on the concrete. The group of joggers catching up to each other, forming one, disheveled group. I could see the hooded figure at the end; laughing at me, mocking me. Frank was by his side, checking him out, looking his perfect body up and down, talking about his old boyfriend; the fat vampire.
"Woops," Bert said loudly, as he leant forward and threw his drink bottle out with such style that anyone truly paying attention would still not notice that it had been deliberate.
It all happened so fast. Bert 'accidentally' loosing his bottle, the hooded runner's feet moving too fast for him to have full control over, the bottle in question rolling unpredictably along the path.
... Then it happened, a foot, a bottle and an impressive stack that would have hard-core skateboarders staring on in envy.
... And then the cry - the yell of pain - and the guilt that I knew should have rushed through me like a bolt of lightening flew over my head as I grinned contentedly at Bert.
The hooded runner didn't see the bottle. He had stepped right on it, his ankle rolling, his back headed for the ground, one leg sticking out to brace the fall, save his fragile back. That one leg accepting the weight of an entire body. That one leg snapping in a rather odd position. The final movements of the runner, the cry of pain.
"Shit, someone call an ambulance," one of the now stopped runners said as he ran to the fallen, hooded guys aid.
"Whose drink bottle is this?" another asked, waving the offending bottle around.
Mikey, Bert and I were already miles away, cowering in the bushes, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. It was horrible, but man it felt awesome, the best kind of revenge!
"Fuck," Bert said, his cigarette still hanging limply between his lips. "Didn't think that would happen!"
I just stared as several runners gathered around their fallen comrade and picked him up with great ease. They carried him off towards the main road, no doubt where an ambulance or other would pick him up.
He wouldn't be running again for a long time.
There was no guilt, after all, I hadn't been the one throwing the bottle and he had been the one to put me through all that fucking torture and pain this past month!
No, I didn't feel any guilt at all, only peace.
Wednesday, 26th February
Late night. New Jersey: My basement. I'm lying here, my arms by my side, but my eyes completely on the small figure twitching and moaning gently next to me.
Frank is asleep in my bed, right where he belongs.
I've never been so glad to see his perfect hair, his perfect tattoo's, his perfect piercings. How the fuck did I ever go so long without hearing the gentle sounds of him breathing in my otherwise dull bedroom?
He arrived earlier this morning; I had pulled him in close and tried to compose myself. It was only a few days, I was being silly. Still, he seemed just as happy to see me.
"Lets go to the park," he suggested, meaning the one closest to my house.
For a fleeting moment, part of me figured that he only asked because he was hoping to see his little fuck buddy there again. The black-clad jogger that I imagined him sleeping with whilst I tired desperately to contact him on his phone.
Why was that image still in my head? Jealousy was truly an ugly thing.
I walked him to the park, my hands to myself. I may have missed him but I didn't want to spoil it all by being to clingy or to needy. What if he thought I was a psycho because I was too obsessed or something? No, my hands by my side were fine, even if they did feel slightly dopey.
When we arrived we sat on the bench and lit up a cigarette each. To anyone jogging by, we would have looked like two best friends simply sharing a smoke break with each other, but to me and Frank, it was so much more.
"You look good," Frank suddenly said, looking at me with those fucking perfect eyes. "Excuse the cliché but ... have you lost weight?"
He giggled, I smiled. He knew all the right things to say.
"Maybe ... I took up jogging."
Frank just laughed until he realised I wasn't laughing with him. The smile faded.
"Serious? Why?" he sounded so shocked. Why would he sound so shocked? I could jog if I wanted to, come on!
"Don't ask," I said simply, shrugging my shoulders.
He nodded his head and turned back to his smoke, his eyes darting up and down the path as though he was looking for something.
"Sorry I was such a little bitch to you the night before I went away," Frank finally said, puffing on his cigarette with such style I almost lunged at his lips right then and there. "My Mum thought it was the best way for me to meet her new boyfriend. Yeah, she sprung that one on me last minute, I didn't want to say no. Sure, I was peeved she couldn't have just introduced me to this new guy over a family dinner or something, but it's not like she did this to me all the time. It's the first boyfriend she had ever had since my parents split when I was five. I didn't know how to take it."
I turned to Frank and watching him suck on his smoke for a while. He was so serious and yet, so genuine. I loved that about him. Yet, he still didn't look at me; he merely continued to look up and down the path, his eyes locking on someone running by us every now and again. It was as though he was looking for something ... or someone.
"He won't be back," I finally said, almost slapping myself as I realised what I had just said.
Now that I had Frank by my side, explaining himself, opening up to me and telling me everything, I realised how stupid I had been. He had never wished I had a better body or that I jogged, he liked me for who I was, that other guy was nothing, no one.
"Who won’t be back?" Frank asked as he glanced at me suspiciously. "Who are you talking about?"
I just smiled at him and shuffled in closer, finally just giving up as I threw an arm around his shoulder and took in his scent, his touch, his warmth.
"Exactly," I stated simply, causing Frank to giggle and stare at me affectionately.
Because after all, who were we talking about? No one, that was who. It didn't matter, the last few weeks had never happened. I had Frank with me and that was all that mattered.
Nothing and no one else!
AN: Hey guys waves sorry it took so long bit I did say updates would be very irregular. Figured you waited long enough. I was only going to give you half, but I put off posting and wrote like crazy when I got home from work today to make sure you all got it in time for Friday the 13th (here in Aus anyway) hope you like it, super duper long. Hope you smile and laugh and hope it makes somebodies day. Thanks for reading as always, love you beautiful people too darn much xx