I couldn’t help but want it to. Just once.
I stare at my younger, irritating but somehow still loveable brother, my hazel eyes filled with confusion, not too certain I liked where he was going with the current conversation.
It was early morning, around eight o clock, a time I had never particularly liked to be awake at, it was far too early. Still, unable to get back to sleep, what with my stupid, God Damn phone blasting out Ray`s, one of my friends and guitarists in the band, ringtone and Mikey banging repeatedly at the front door. So it was at this all too early hour, I had got up, only just resisted the urge to throw my phone in the trash and opened the door, a shockingly wide awake and very annoying younger brother smiling up at me. It was at times like this I was extremely grateful to the person who had invented coffee; it was a lifesaver on days such as these.
“So, Gee, how has your week been?” Mikey asks me, grinning up casually over his steaming hot mug of coffee, his eyes all wide and innocent, two words that definetly did not describe him honestly.
“Fine.” I mutter my reply, taking a sip of my own drink, my second cup of coffee that morning, and I had only been awake for half an hour.
Seeming oblivious to my sleepy, uninterested state, he carries on. “Frank says he can`t come round today, says he has some kind of cold or something.” Mikey informs me, not sounding the least bit sympathetic.
Poor Frankie….I think to myself, taking another sip. Out of everyone in the band, my brother included, I was probably closest to him. We had been instant friends when we had met at Eyeball records all those years ago, and after a while I had began to wonder if my feelings for the hyper guitarist went further than that of friendship. And after being friends and working together as part of a rather successful (if I do say so myself) band for years, it had became quite clear to me that I did indeed have feelings for Frank that far outweighed friendship or even brotherly love.
It was a very long time ago I had realised just how much I cared for him, and I had been trying my damndest to hide it from him and everyone else for that matter ever since that day. I had always felt I had done a fairy good job of it, but recently I had started wondering if it was possible that the others knew. Frank didn’t of course, I had always been extremely careful around him, laughing off any awkward moments and claiming everything we did was simply to piss of any haters. And it was, for him anyway.
When we released Danger Days we had decided to no longer do those things anymore, I had mixed emotions about it, but knew it was for the best. And though it pained me to know I would never kiss Frank`s soft lips again, it also gave me an opportunity to move on and finally reach the acceptance that I could never be with him.
I roll over in my king sized, lonely bed, sighing deeply. I was exhausted and yet somehow unable to sleep. I was used to it by now; after all it had been like this for years. For years I had been suffering sleepless, lonely nights, wishing that my best friend was here beside me, craving his touch, his love, disgusting and just plain wrong as it was. I had to admit that over the past few months it had been getting worse again, despite constantly telling myself that I was over it all, over him.
But it would never happen, never. I knew that, I had accepted it a long, long time ago now. Every electric kiss, every burning touch that we shared on stage was completely fake, for Gerard anyway. But not for me, never for me. even now, years after I had least felt his cool, soft lips working against mine, I still craved it. The mouth-watering taste of his lips, the way his captured mine still haunted me to this day, and though I knew it would never happen again, I couldn’t help but want it to.