Gerard relfects on things.
I lived. Even though I felt like I was dead and I looked like I was dead, I had lived. The next day the doctors sent me back and the tour continued as if nothing had happened. Desolé was quite for a while, like she was thinking. All I could do was hope that she wasn’t thinking about breaking it off. I couldn’t blame her if she did though, after all I had done and put her through this past week alone.
That nigh I asked her what was wrong and she said “nothing, just thinking”. I kissed her and she seemed distant. I touched her and she would roll over in bed.
“Gerard, tell me what’s wrong. Please, tell me what you took, what you’ve been taking. Its eating me alive. Its tearing me apart. Gerard, please. I know its bad, but I can handle it. We’re a couple, we can get through this together. You just gotta tell me.” she said finally the next night.
“Des, listen to me. Shit is bad, I won’t deny it. But I’ve got it under control. I can take care of myself. Don’t worry about me, you don’t need to.” I tried to assure her. She shook her head. She was crying now. I took her face in my hands and kissed her, feeling her tears press my cheeks.
“Desolé, I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” I said, hugging her against my chest. She cried harder than before. I felt sick. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? What else do you want me to do?” I asked hopelessly.
“I don’t want you to do anything. I just want you to be honest with me. I know you’re not telling me everything, I know it. Please, just tell me what you’re taking.” she begged, her cheeks growing red and shiny from crying.
“Believe me, Des. Just believe me. Have faith in me. I know you’re stressed out. But the tour is almost over and soon it’ll just be you and me. We’ll go back to your condo in LA and set up a life together, alright? Soon this will all be over and we can forget it, pretend like it never happened.” I told her, hugging her again. She was quiet now except for her soft sobs.
“We’re still getting married one day, right?” I asked after a few seconds of quiet. Des nodded and I felt relieved. I wanted her like I had never wanted anybody. I couldn’t stand to see her with somebody else. I couldn’t live without her.
“You wear me out.” was all she said. She sounded tired, exhausted. She curled up on my chest like a little cat and shut her weeping eyes. I kissed her hair, wishing there was some way to ease the pain.
THE NEXT DAY
Desolé and Milo were out grocery shopping and I stayed back on the bus to finish recuperating. While I milled about a drank my fourth cup of coffee, I decided to go through a stack of magazines of the counter. More than half of them were things like Hustler and Maxim and Playboy. I figured they were Frank’s. There was also a Cosmopolitan sitting on the counter, mixed in with the fuck magazines and I couldn’t help but laugh. But then I noticed that Des was the model on the cover.
The little headline next to her right hip read, “Desolé Vogue talks about her teen years, drugs and hands out love advice only she would dare to give! See page 66.” My smile widened, but I didn’t read the interview. Instead I stashed the magazine behind my bunk for later. Whoever it belonged to would just have to deal.
“Honey, I’m home!” Des called out as she burst through the door. She had three grocery bags in her hands and a tired smile on her face. I felt my face brighten when I saw her.
“Hey.” I said happily, leaning back in my seat and watching her. She came in and kicked the door closed behind her. She set the bags on the counter and started putting away cereal, crackers and a jug of milk. “How was your trip to the store?” I asked after a few seconds of silent staring.
“Ugh! It was terrible! I was getting some lunch meat when I realized I forgot the milk, so I left the cart to go back and get it. When I came back my cart was gone, along with all my groceries and my coupons! And then this bitchy old hag at the register kept giving me dirty looks. I am never shopping at Wal-Mart again!” she explained in an exasperated tone.
“Sorry to hear that. Where’s Milo?” I asked, noticing her companion wasn’t by her side. She groaned again and threw away the plastic grocery bags.
“He started flirting with some young bitch and they went out to dinner together. I don’t know when they’ll be back.” she said. She grabbed a Walgreens prescription bag and flopped down next to me. “I’m exhausted.” she said a little breathlessly.
“I’m sorry you had a tough day. I would’ve come with you, but…” I didn’t want to say it out loud. Desolé shut her eyes and leaned her head back. “What‘s in the Walgreens bag?” I asked her, pointing to the paper sack with my chin.
“You‘re Xanax prescription. I got it refilled when I noticed you were running low in the hospital.” she said, her voice tinged with a darkness I couldn’t place. I reached out for it but she pulled her hand away, out of my reach.
“Gerard, you need to promise me you won‘t abuse these. You‘re only supposed to take them as needed, without alcohol and without any other drugs.” she said very firmly. I rolled my eyes.
“I‘m not taking any other drugs.” I said. Lying to her was getting easier and easier just like it was for everybody else. At first the guilt ate me apart, but as my use of cocaine increased the guilty pit in my stomach seemed to shrink down, down, down. Desolé sighed heavily. She didn‘t believe me, but she didn‘t know what else she could do for me. I felt a twinge of sadness.
“Just don‘t overdose again. If you do, I‘m getting you drug tested and put in either rehab or a mental hospital.” she warned. God she looked so tired and fed up.
“Okay, okay. Just lemme get the pills.” I said. She didn‘t hand me the bag. She looked dead serious and stared into my eyes, her gaze piercing me.
“Promise me Gerard. Please.” she added after a seconds pause. I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded. I wasn‘t a fan of breaking promises I made to her. But it seemed like the only option at this point. She handed me the bag and I took the prescription bottle out and set it on my shelf. Desolé did not look pleased.
“You wanna lay down and take a nap?” I offered sympathetically. I could only imagine how drained she must be with having to tour, have me as a boyfriend and deal with assholes all the time.
“Yes, I would like that very much.” she said, not opening her eyes. She waited a moment before sighing and getting up. We snuggled down my bunk with me facing the wall and her facing the outside.
We stayed quiet, not talking at all. I listened to her breathing until it softened and I knew she was asleep. I was squished against the wall because she was hogging the rest of bunk. I didn’t mind though because I could feel her firm little butt pressing up on the small of my back. It was impossible not to grin just a little bit. I shut my eyes and pictured her sweet face as she slept. Her lips parted just barely, her eyes moving under her pale lids and eyeliner. I sighed inwardly in contentment. It was moments like this that made me remember how lucky I was.
I rolled over as best I could in the tiny space I was provided so that I could feel her bottom pressing gently on my crotch. I wrapped my arms around her thin body and swooned under the scent of her warm hair. I pulled myself up close to her and kissed the back of it very gently. Then I hummed “Demolition Lovers” as softly as I could manage even though it was a song about another girl, another name, another place in time. I felt her jaw bone move suddenly. Was she smiling? A quick in that direction confirmed it.
I pulled myself tight against her, feeling her warm body next to mine. I reached my hand around so that it was resting on her chest. After a few seconds I moved it down and up through her shirt to discover she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“…Gerard…” She mumbled in a sleeping sigh. It still amazed me from time to time that that was my name she was sighing. It was me who she called out for in the night when she was frightened. It was my name that she shouted in the throes of ecstasy. It was a scary thought, her being so dependent on me. But I was happy about it. I wanted her to need me and want me and she did in a way no girl ever had before.
I heard the bus door open and people come it. It was just the guys. I shut my eyes quickly and faked sleep so that they would leave me alone. They still gave me shit about dating a nineteen year old. I’ll admit, it was weird, but if our relationship wasn’t at least a little weird I wouldn’t even be interested. Maybe they would just go or something when they I we were snoozing.
“Are they awake?” Bob asked. I could sense him peering into the bunk and tried to relax as much as possible. I felt somebody else look in as well.
“Nope. We should let them sleep. Shit’s been rough for the both of them.” I heard Frank’s voice say. There was a mumbling of mutual agreement in the group and then they left and we were shrouded in silence once again.
I stretched my lips and kissed the shell of Desolé’s ear again before shutting my eyes. I should really try to sleep, but it would be hard to do with so many thoughts. I carefully reached up the shelf until my fingers found the bottle. As I stared it down Des’s voice chimed in my head. “promise me Gerard”. But there was a bigger, meaner voice telling me to just take the damned pills. And that’s exactly what I did.
Sorry for the insane lack of updates. I've been crazy busy. Today is my last day in my favorite place on earth, so I am very sad :(