Gerard tries to get Frank to see himself the way he does.
I could almost feel my heart melting, knowing that he was telling the truth about everything, because he was now telling it to Mikey.
"Sure as hell it's weird for me, my brother loves one of my best friends. But I don't really care, as long as it makes you happy."
"I don't remember the last time I felt this good. Fuck depression." I smiled. I made him happy. It was all I wanted.
"Good! So, tell me what happened?"
"Well..." He sounded a little reluctant, but of course he was going to tell him, Mikey was his bestfriend as well as brother. "I'm not quite sure how to say it. Well, I rang him, and he told me he was killing himself." Silence lay for a few seconds.
"What?! Holy fuck. Why? What? I don't know- if he'd done it-" I heard Mikey's breath waver. Why did they care?!
"I know. So obviously, I was shitting myself. I was trying so hard not to just burst out crying. I had to save him. So I immediately drove over and when I got in, he was sitting there, bloody arm, crying, sweaty. Honestly, it completely broke my heart. I took the knife away from him and we cried in eachother's arms for about an hour. Then I tried to talk to him, and then we slowly started to... yeah."
"Ah," realised Mikey. "So, did you actually...?"
"No, he stopped us. Are you sure you're cool with this, Mikey?"
"I'm not fucking cool with Frank trying to kill himself! But yeah, sure. I'm happy for you two."
"Thanks, Mikey. Really."
I couldn't bare to just stand there anymore. It all felt like lies. No one cared. How could they? I'm useless. I strode past them, making out I was going to the toilets. Lies. It all felt like fucking lies. I walked inside and stared at my reflection in the mirror.
"They all think they care. They'd get over me soon enough. Eugh, you're so ugly," I spat at my reflection. "And if music is the only thing keeping me going... fuck it. I'm shit at guitar, stop trying to kid yourself. They don't care. Worthless. Look at yourself. You're fucking worthless." I carried on scowling at myself.
"I beg to differ." I whipped around, Gerard was standing there.
"How long have you been..."
"Long enough to know I need to help you. Right now." I couldn't work out the expression on his face. He took my hand in his, which made my pulse raise a few beats, and took us out to his car. We got in and when we started driving, he took one hand off the wheel and held the one at my side again. We stayed silent the whole way, though he never let go of my hand. We arrived at his gouse and we got out, Gerard letting go of my hand. He led me up to his bedroom and got out a sketchbook. I wondered what the fuck he was doing.
"This is you. I drew it a few days ago." I gasped, as I always did whenever he showed me some of his art. But, he'd made me a lot better looking than I actually was.
"Sorry if it's weird, I couldn't help it. I had to draw you."
"No, it's amazing. But fuck, Gerard, I don't look like that." The guy staring back at me in the picture was gorgeous. Beautiful hazel eyes, cute lips, nose in proportion, awesome hair. It wasn't me.
"What? You really do, Frankie," my heart softened at the way he called me Frankie, no irony at all, my name just rolling off his tongue in his amazing voice. "I was quite impressed with the likeness when I did that. Look." He picked up a mirror and put it at the angle I'd been drawn at.
"Can't you see?" I forced myself to look between the mirror and the painting. Suddenly they did seem quite similar, but now I just had that same feeling of disgust at my reflection because it was me. He took my face in his hands to look at him.
"You're really, really beautiful, Frank. You're not worthless, I know. Because you mean the whole fucking world to me." He then pressed his lips softly to mine, I kissed him slowly and gently, causing my temperature to shoot up. He pulled away but I pulled him back.
"What's wrong with me?" I sighed. "I don't even know what I want anymore. I want you. But that's all I know. Everything else is just so fucking... empty."
"I know, Frank. Trust me, I understand. So much." There was a look I couldn't quite comprehend in his eyes.
"Gerard?" I asked, cocking my head to the side and pulling him to my chest. "We're really fucked up, aren't we?"
"No. Just inunderstandable," He sniffed. "I really love you, Frank. I mean it." He whispered into my chest. No. It all hit me in a sudden rush. I was scared. I was fucking scared. Moments like this, we were always uncertain of what might happen between us. I just felt his breath against my neck.
"Gerard," I swallowed. "I can't do this."
"You can. You already did."
"I know, but- I don't want this- No! That's not what I mean. Because I do- Well, I..." Why couldn't I say what I wanted to?! My breath slowed when he lightly stroked the scars on my arm lovingly.
"It's okay to be terrified." He said softly. I wasn't sure how long I was going to be able to stand this. His breath warm against my neck, his cold hands wrapped around me, stroking my back underneath my shirt. I buried my nose in his hair. I hoped we were going to be able to get through everything.