Part 3, enjoy :)
I took my stretchers out permanently about three years ago, when I decided I would stop putting them in for days off work and special occasions. Yet when I find them hiding in a drawer, they won’t fit into my ears. I’ve heard that your ears shrunk, but I didn’t know it would be so much. When I give up, my ears are red and burning, so I find two old stretchers and slip them in; this time it’s less painful.
Jamia comes in when I’m putting them in, and looks at my tummy and the tattoos on there. There’s her name, of course. And above her name, a burning fire with the word ‘Hope’ underneath. I have an anchor with ‘NJ’ inscribed on my arm, and two swooping birds, swooping towards my crotch. I think Jamia likes my tattoos; I know she likes her name being there. Although she never liked the scorpion on my neck, and was positively gleeful when I had it lasered off because no one would employ me. She comes in and strokes her name above my nipple, but I know where it’s heading so I pull on a black shirt and head downstairs.
When I’m in the kitchen, I look at the calendar and the date circled in red and smile. It’s only tomorrow until they come. I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to see him again. The kettle screams as smoke rises from it, and I remember I was making coffee. To be honest, I’ve never liked coffee. I had to make myself like it, simply because I know Gerard loves it. I can only drink it with milk and about ten spoons of sugar in, because I hate the bitter taste and always grimace if the people working at the nearest coffee shop put too little sugar in.
This day is going nowhere; and its only noon.
When I saw them in concert, I tried to get to the front of the stage, but was pushed back by screaming fans lurching forward like a tidal wave. I’d paid $250 on eBay for that ticket, and spent the whole time with tears welling in my eyes as I watched Gerard singing. When he sang ‘Cancer’, tears started dribbling down my cheeks, and I’d clumsily tried to wipe them away with my gloved hand. When the DVD of ‘The Black Parade Is Dead!’ came out, I bought it and watched it religiously even though it was practically identical to the concert I’d been to. Tears even fell down my face when I watched ‘Cancer’, even though watching the DVD was nothing like the concert.
I remember, when I was in the heaving crowd as ‘Famous Last Words’ was sung, the girl next to me had black hair and black eyeliner all over her face and was screaming “I fucking love you Gerard!”. I felt so angry then. He was mine to love. Then I blushed, because he was fucking married.
The clock ticks rhythmically and I cradle my coffee. We’re meeting at my house, then me, Mikey and Gerard are heading to the club in Hoboken at half seven, whilst LynZ, Alicia and are coming here to endure Jamia’s awful cooking. I don’t know how long we’ll stay out for; they’re meeting Gerard and Mikey’s parents tomorrow, so can’t stay out all night. I feel like I’m in High School, what with all these silly preparations. I always find the unplanned evenings the better ones, but I’m hoping to break that chain tomorrow night.
“Frankie?” Jamia whispers to me as we lay spooning in bed.
“Mhmm...” I groan. I can’t sleep; but I don’t want Jamia’s voice penetrating my subconscious. That area is reserved for Gerard.
“I’m thinking about tomorrow...”
Ah, tomorrow, I think happily to myself.
“Yeah?” I grunt in reply, not really wanting to get into a conversation with her about the day that’s going to change everything.
“I don’t want to meet Alicia and Lindsey.”
My eyes flicker open. “What? Why?”
I feel her shrug, and she presses herself to me, her long arms holding me tight.
“I just... don’t know them. Don’t want to.”
I suddenly know what she’s getting at.
“So blackmail is your game Jamia?” I furiously whisper. She knows how excited I am to be seeing Gerard, but knows if she refuses to meet Lynz and Alicia I won’t be able to. Rage suddenly surges through my body.
“Baby, I don’t want to blackmail you.” Her voice is sugar sweet, and her hand slips down into my boxers. I freeze up as she whispers, “If you give me a baby I’ll meet whoever you want me to.”
And then I realise she’s playing a sicker game than I am.
But I comply with her demands; I need to see Gerard. She doesn’t even moan as I fuck her; I think we’ve long groan past the stage of enjoying sex with each other. As I come she refuses to let me pull out for about a minute, telling me she’s ‘making sure she’s gonna get knocked up’. When she frees me, I go to the ensuite bathroom and look long and hard at myself in the mirror. In all my dreams of adulthood I never thought I’d be stuck in a loveless marriage with someone who appears just to want my sperm whilst I lust over a singer whose life I helped redeem. I turn the shower on slowly, and watch the freezing water spurt powerfully out of the head. Clambering in, I wince at the cold spikes that seem to penetrate my very soul. Jamia’s razor is on the floor, and I carefully pick it up. It’s new; I think she’s only used it once or twice. I rinse it under the shower head, and then slowly push it to my upper thigh. My breathing is shallow as I slowly draw it down my leg, and I shake as I see the blood beginning to trickle out of the wound. I’ve heard it should make you feel calm and in control, but this cut on my leg doesn’t. I just feel alone and foolish. Another cut, this time on my other leg, and I feel slightly better. The blood, a vivid hue of red, is diluted to a pale pink as it is washed down the drain. And then I cut myself a third time, this time a slit right underneath my belly button, and I feel empowered. Confident.
I wash the blood off my body and then towel myself dry. I pull my boxers on, and head back to bed. Jamia’s sleeping, and I too fall into a deep sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Wearing tight black skinnies and a grey fitted tshirt, I climb into my car without saying bye to Jamia. She surveys me from the window, but I ignore her, and turn the volume up on my My Chem cd. Pulling out of the driveway, I set off to the club in Hoboken. It’s about a fifteen minute drive from my house, so I have plenty of time to try and tame the butterflies in my stomach. Not long into the journey, Jamia calls me. “Lynz and Alicia are here. Apparently Mikey and Gerard are at the club already.” I don’t reply, just end the call and press down on the gas.
The club is packed when I get there. Some indie band is playing on the stage, but I ignore the developing mosh pit and head to the bar.
And then I see him.
His black hair is quite short, and curls round his ears. He’s intently talking to Mikey, with a look of rapture on his face. Then he throws back his head and laughs, his teeth glinting in the poor lighting. I take in his faded leather jacket and deep blue jeans, notice how one hand is casually resting in his back pocket. Mikey checks his watch, and I know this is my cue to go and see them. I flatten my hair down, clench my fists in excitement, and walk towards them.
Mikey looks up first, he smiles, and he looks so much like Gerard in that split second, I almost forget that Gerard is standing right next to me.
Gerard turns to look at me, and I am lost in his eyes. He cracks a wide smile, and his eyes light up, like a kid on Christmas.
“Frankie, hi.” He breathes, and at that moment it’s just us two together, lost in each other.
“Gerard. It’s fucking awesome to see you.”
Hope you enjoyed part 3, part 4 will come soon xD Rate&Review guys, and I just might make them fuck ;) xoxo