Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Red And Blue

Home Coming

by kenzoid 0 reviews

Gerard meets Desole's mother for the first time.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Romance - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Published: 2011-07-08 - Updated: 2011-07-09 - 3363 words

Desolé and I had been together for a full week now, and it had been the best week I could remember. It had it's dark spots, like when I nearly over dosed right in front of Desolé. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that one, but I learned my lesson. And that was don’t do cocaine then drink tons of beer and vodka. I was still doing the cocaine though, and the Xanax…and the beer and vodka. Before a show, I needed to get pumped up so I’d just get a line or two with Bert and get on with it. Then afterward I would need to sleep and shut my brain off. That’s were the Xanax and the booze came in handy. I felt guilty for lying to Desolé, but it was like every day it got easier and easier.

But I’d have to refrain from getting too fucked up because we had the weekend off. And Desolé wanted me to come home with her to meet her mother. To be honest, I was a little nervous. She made her mom sound like an SS Soldier or something. But I was sure it was exaggerated, so I wasn’t too worried about it. I just wanted her mom to like me because that was the only family she had left.

“Bert, got any smack? I’m leaving for a few days with Des this weekend and I’m gonna need a fix or two.” I said under my breath, catching Bert right after he hopped offstage the night before we were supposed to set off. He nodded and I felt relieved.

“Sure, but it’ll cost ya big time. I got two grams with your name on it.” he said quietly, casually leading me into the bathroom and locking the door behind us so we could do our business in private.

“What do you mean?” I asked, reaching for my wallet in the back pocket of my too-tight jeans. Bert just rolled his eyes as he whipped out the bag full of white powder.

“I mean, those first few lines I gave you a discount for congratulations. I can’t be doing that shit anymore, so its gonna cost ya.” He explained tiredly. I gave him a puzzled glance as I dolled out some twenty dollar bills.

“Congrats? Congrats for what exactly?” I asked, handing him one hundred and fifty bucks. He rolled his eyes again and handed me the bag.

“For bangin’ Des’s sweet ass on a regular basis!” he hissed. I scowled at him. He always assumed we were still just fucking around together. It was like nobody was taking us seriously. It didn’t bother Des, she said she was used to it. But I just couldn’t see how.

“Don’t talk about her like she’s just some blow up doll okay, she’s my girlfriend. You guys need to get used to it.” I warned, stashing the back inside my wallet and putting my wallet in my back pocket once more.

“Whatever man, just see how long that works out for you.” he said with a sigh, as if he knew more about my relationship than I did. This sent a wave of frustration through me. Everybody was acting and talking like our relationship was just gonna be a short term fling or something. It made me mad that nobody, not even the press, could just leave it be.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” I asked a little loudly. Bert shushed me as to not draw any unwanted attention and unlocked the door.

“Nothin’. Now leave me alone, I got people to meet up with.” he said, throwing me a wink. I rolled my eyes and left the bathroom, pushing through the crowd so I could head back to the bus. On the way there, I was pleased to run into Desolé.

“Hey sweetheart.” she beamed when she saw me, standing up on tip toe to greet me with a big kiss. I couldn’t help but grin as I hugged her. Being around her pretty much always made me maddeningly happy.

“Hey, you all packed for our road trip tomorrow?” I asked when she pulled away. She nodded and continued smiling, her big blue eyes bright and shining in the dark. She was intoxicating to look at.

“Yep, all ready to go. Not quite ready to face my mom after all this time, but we’ll see how it goes.” she said with a small frown and a shrug. I wrapped my arm around her and gave her a small squeeze. It was understandable that she was nervous, considering the bumpiness of their past.

“Well, I’ll be right there with you the entire time so don’t worry. I gotta go get some sleep, I’ll meet you tomorrow morning okay? Love you.” I said, kissing her forehead. She smiled and pecked me on the lips before prancing back over to Milo. I watched her walk away for a few seconds before heading inside.

“Saw you and Des lip locking outside.” Mikey teased as soon as I stepped foot inside the bus. I sighed and hopped inside my bunk, not feeling up for dealing with anybody right now. It looked like it was going to be one of “those” nights.

“Yeah, so?” I retorted. Mikey shrugged innocently and Frank decided to step in.

“Don’t you feel weird when you’re with her?” Frank asked, getting in his bunk too. I gave him a “what the fuck” glare.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked a little meanly. Frank shrugged, but continued.

“I mean, she’s nineteen and your twenty seven. That’s an eight year difference. Don’t you kind of feel like a pedophile when your fucking her brains out?” Frank said, him and Mikey unable to hold back their giggling. I rolled my eyes and kicked off my boots.

“She’s legal age. And don‘t talk about us like all we‘re doing is fucking.” I said flatly as I maneuvered out of my jeans.

“Yeah, barely. If she were two years younger you’d be on Dateline with Chris Hansen man.” Bob joined in. I bit the inside of my cheek. I never really thought of her age, she always acted so mature and tough and ready for anything. But eight years was quite a big difference, not that I was planning on letting it stand in our way.

“Well, she isn’t so there isn’t a problem.” I said blankly as I tossed my jeans into the hamper. I needed a shower.

“Is she tight? I bet she’s a real snug fit.” Frank teased, sending Mikey into another fit of laughter. I reached over and popped Frank on the back of the head.

“You guys need to lay off. Gerard’s happy. You should be happy too.” Ray interjected. He had been up in his bunk playing video games like a hermit and listening in our conversation.

“See! Thank you Ray.” I said, pointing up to his bunk. Ray waved his hand as if to say “no problem man”. At least somebody was willing to stick up for me.

“Yeah, he’s right. Whatever makes you happy man. Ha ha, have you ever dressed her up like a school girl?” Frank jeered. Unable to help but laugh, I jumped in his bunk and tackled him playfully. Bob got in his bunk as Mikey shuffled around the kitchen, cooking what smelled like soup.

“You guys need to shut the fuck up.” I said after I’d finished giving Frank a noogie. I went back to my bunk and settled under the covers.

“It ain’t our fault you like ‘em young.” Bob shrugged. I sighed; it seemed as though the ridicule would never end.

“Its not that I like them young, she just likes them older.” I said with a shrug. Frank, Mikey and Bob all went “ooooh” and I scowled up at the ceiling of my bunk.

So what if she was nineteen? She seemed perfectly comfortable with fucking and if she wasn’t, I’d wait until she was. I was honestly done caring about what other people thought of us. I was happy and she was happy; that’s all that really mattered. I wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed to be dating her. If anything, I was proud. Never in my life had I thought I’d catch a girl as amazing as her. I loved her, I loved to show her off to everybody. She was perfect; perfect for me anyway…

Desolé and I set off the next morning really early so that we would get to her mom’s around dinner time. Desolé did the driving because I didn’t know how to get to her mom’s house. I was excited and nervous at the same time. I was excited because I wanted to see how she had grown up and what her home was like. But I was nervous because her mom seemed like a hard ass and I didn’t always make a great first impression with people’s parents.

The car ride was smooth sailing. I slept in the passenger seat a lot of the time. Desolé blasted Madonna and The Misfit’s the entire ride, so I was content. We drove with the top down most of the way there because the sky was grey and overcast. It was cool outside and the traffic wasn’t bad at all. Desolé looked crazy beautiful with her blonde hair blowing in the wind and singing along with “Material Girl”. And we got there at five forty five, just the way we planned.

“Ma, open up!” Desolé shouted, banging on the front door. I was surprised at how big the house was. The entire neighborhood seemed to be made of mansions and estates.

“You’re house is fucking huge! All these houses are.” I hissed as I set Desolé’s suit case down on the front porch. She rolled her eyes.

“My dad was an art dealer, so we’ve always been pretty well off. We used to take summer trips to Italy and shit when I was younger.” She said casually. I was a little bewildered by this information. Her past may just always be some what of a mystery to me.

“Coming, coming!” called a shrill French accent from the other side of the large, red door. We heard numerous locks clicking and tumbling before the door swung open. Desolé’s mother opened the door and was standing in front of us. She looked very thin and frail with the face and eyes of a bird of prey. Her posture was like something out of a Victorian painting and her clothes looked expensive, but old lady-ish at the same time.

“Ah, come in. Come in. You must be Gerard. My name is Beatrice.” She said with a brittle smile when she saw me. I smiled awkwardly and picked up our suit cases, following Desolé inside.

“Desolé has told me so much about you. You went to School Of Visual Arts in New York?” she said, as we walked into the expansive living room. It was filled with paintings and vases. There was a large white leather sectional sofa and clean white carpeting. It looked like something out of a style magazine.

“Um, yeah. I tried to get into cartooning but it didn’t really work out.” I said as she led us into the kitchen. I was trying to take it all in. The kitchen looked as though it belonged on Rachel Ray or some shit. There were little pots and pan holders on the ceiling and granite counter tops. There was also a big dining room table already set for dinner. Something was cooking and it smelled delicious.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. But it seems as though your music career has really taken off.” she smiled, pulling on a pair of oven mitts. “I made pot roast, is that okay? I’m not the best cook in the world.” her mother said, opening the oven and reaching inside. The smell of spices and cooked food punched me in the face.

“That smells amazing!” I blurted out, unable to help myself. I set the suit cases down by the entrance to the living room and took a seat next to Desolé. She put her feet up on the table and leaned back in her chair. Sometimes she amazed me with her bad behavior.

“Desolé, feet off of the table. If I’ve told you once, I’d told you a thousand times.” her mother said dryly. Desolé sneered and took her feet down while I sat there awkwardly. Her mom cut up the roast and put it on our plates.

“So, Desolé I’ve seen you on numerous magazine covers. When do you plan to stop this path of self destruction?” Her mother asked bitterly. Desolé rolled her eyes and scoffed, taking a big bite of her food. I suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore, only queasy.

“Maybe when I’m six feet in the earth. Maybe when you’re six feet in the earth.” she taunted. I held my breath, fearing that things were about to get ugly. Her mother simply laughed loudly and took a drink from the wine glass in front of her.

“That’d make you happy wouldn’t it? Seeing them lower me into the ground in a box?” Beatrice asked, her tone even and measured as if they were just talking about the weather.

“I’d be over the fuckin’ moon!” Desolé said, throwing her arms up in exaggeration. I felt extremely uncomfortable, like I was watching a family fight on television or something. “Naw, I’m joking ma. If you died I’d probably just pretend not to recognize you and let the city take care of it.” Desolé said finally, making her mother crack up even harder. I was confused as to whether this was a joke or not.

“I’d do the same for your, dearest. That is of course if you don't wind up face down in a gutter with nobody able to recognize you. So tell me, how is Milo?” he mother asked as she cut up her food. Desolé shrugged and finished chewing before she answered.

“He’s good I guess. Probably out partying with everybody right now actually.” she said through another mouthful of food. I cautiously picked at my food. They hadn’t been near each other for over a year. You’d think they’d have more catching up to do.

“Gerard, where are you from?” Beatrice asked after she swallowed.

“Newark, New Jersey.” I replied. She raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth as if to say “ah, how interesting”. I gulped inwardly.

“I’m done! Can I show Gerard up to my room ma?” Desolé perked up, tossing her fork onto her plate with a loud clattering sound.

“Sure. I’ll be up shortly to check on you two so no hankie panky.” she said blankly, not even looking up from her food. I felt my face go beat red as Desolé took me by the hand and led me away. I grabbed our suit cases and followed as she led me to a massive spiral staircase.

“Need any help with the bags?” Des asked, trotting ahead of me. I shook my head even though they were heavy.

Des shrugged and pranced up the stairs like a giddy school girl. I followed her and she took me down a big hallways, also filled with paintings and vases. The whole house reminded me of a museum. Then we came to a door that I knew would lead to her room. It was covered on police tape and had a sign on it that said “KEEP OUT” with a skull and crossed bones underneath.

“Welcome to casa de Desolé.” she said, opening the door slowly.

The room was huge, the size of a master bedroom. I wondered momentarily what her mother’s room looked like. The walls were a weird pinkish purple color, but you could barely see them because they were drowning underneath all the Joan Jet and Iron Maiden posters she had plastered everywhere. The floor was littered with tee shirts, jeans and random scraps of cheap looking lingerie. There was a white dresser with a big, blue bong just sitting there in the open. Her bed was queen sized with black and red checkered bed spread and matching pillows. Her closet was a walk in and had clothes spilling out of it. Next to her closet I noticed was an attached bathroom.

“Tadaaa!” Desolé said happily, throwing herself onto her bed. “Looks like mom hasn’t even been in here since I left.” she thought out loud. I smiled and put the suit cases next to the closet.

“Its nice, really big. Very messy.” I observed, smiling at all the black half-melted candles she had on her dressers and vanity. “And the bong? I didn’t know you smoked.” I chuckled, laying next her on the bed. It was comfortable and fluffy feeling, very different from the bunks on the tour bus.

“Yeah, I was a huge stoner in middle school up until I ran away. I started when I was ten. Milo was my grower.” she admitted a little guiltily. I raised my eyebrows. “And if I am correct…” her voice trailed off as she reached behind her head board and started scratching around. Suddenly her hand reappeared with a dime bag packed with weed.

“Aha! Wanna smoke out sometime?” she asked, holding up the bag like a trophy. I shook my head.

“Nah, I tried that shit in high school and all it did was make me want to eat carnival food. And I’ve already got all the extra pounds I need.” I said, holding up my hand.

“Gerard, you are not fat. I love your body. Seriously, you need to be more confident in yourself.” she said, kissing me. I sighed; how could I possibly feel better when she was sitting here with her perfect figure?

“Whatever. Its not important.” I said, wanting very badly to change the subject. Desolé just huffed.

“Fine then. It’s been a long day. I need some sleep.” she said, sounding slightly irritated. I sighed; I didn’t want her to be mad at me because I didn’t want to talk.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just don’t wanna talk about it. Don’t be mad. Please? “ I apologized instantly. I pretty much always was the first to break and say sorry. I was terrified of loosing her in some stupid fight.

“I’m not mad. I just get frustrated when you can’t take a compliment.” she said, kissing me. I felt a little relieved and kissed her back. “I think its just been a long day and we’re both exhausted. We need to go to bed early tonight.” she said finally. I nodded in agreement. Despite having slept in the car most of the day, I was in fact exhausted.

“I’m gonna go and take a shower, should I leave you some hot water?” Desolé asked, getting off the bed and walking toward her bathroom.

“Nah, I’m just gonna go to bed. I love you.” I added as she took off her shirt, revealing her beautiful and pale back. I loved the way her shoulder blades adjusted under she soft skin as she moved.

“I love you too, more than anything.” she said quietly, shimmying out of her jeans and lacey white panties. I tried not to stare, but couldn’t help myself. She just so tiny and petite, like a doll almost. I smiled to myself as I watched her disappear into the bathroom, realizing how content I was. I would’ve given anything to just be able hold onto that feeling.
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