FicWad

I’m so sorry Frank, for everything.
I’m sorry for meeting you. It was Mikeys birthday party, and he invited you round for a sleepover to celebrate. I thought you were really sweet. You had tattoos, and piercings. When I first saw you, your eyes captured me. Your hair, your smile. Everything about you was just captivating. We sat down and started talking. You were shy at first, and Mikey was trying to make conversation between us. As soon as I you let your guard down, you made me laugh. I found out we were into the same things, and I melted. Music, Comics, everything. You were perfect...

I’m sorry for hiring you as our guitarist. We become friends almost instantly, and within days I realised, I wouldn’t be able to cope if you left my life. You were all I could think about. And I know it was wrong, but I fell in love with you. I had fell in love with my little brothers best friend. I was sick in the brain, and I should of been locked up, but I couldn’t help it. Hell, I didn’t even know if you were into guys. To think of it, I didn’t even know you. Not properly. It should take months, if not years, to fall in love with someone, not a week. But it was just the way you looked at me sometimes, and some of the things you said, some of the things you did. They were enough to give me hope that you liked me back, And that, even remotely, you thought of me like I thought of you...

I’m so sorry for meeting your Mother. It was January, and it was the first show as a complete band, it was our first show Frankie. The first show you’d played in with us. We ran off stage buzzing, and you ran into your Mama’s arms. We all felt that something big was going to come out of that show. I was drunk, as usual, but I felt it. I felt that sheer thrill of making so many people happy. It was only like 70 kids, but it was a start. I was taking my life somewhere. The best part was, I was taking it there with you. I guessed you felt it too. You said to your Mama something about it being ‘the one’ and to come and meet your band mates. I was introduced first. ‘Ma, This is Gerard’ You announced before jumping onto me and hugging me, making me go a shade darker than crimson...

I’m so sorry for the flirting. Vans warped tour, 2005. Off stage. We spent most of our time together. Drinking, talking, all of that. Everyone was out watching people like Fall out Boy, Funeral For A Friend, Silvierstien, Etcetera. Everyone except us. We stayed behind, talking. That’s when I really got to know you. You told me everything, about how your Father walked out, about the eating disorders, the failed bands. I suddenly knew every single fact of information about you. Which also meant I knew your soft spots. I would drop the occasional hand on your shoulder or leg, hold the gazes for a second too long, and spoke with a slight husk that I knew you liked. It was all part of my plan, to catch your eye, and to send your senses wild..

I’m so sorry for the stage kisses. It started in New Orleans. We were halfway through playing Fashion. You walked over to sing your bit into the mic with me, and I kissed you. It was only a peck on the cheek, but it was enough. The crowd went crazy, and so did you. I ruffled you hair and walked off, taunting you. We finished the set and bundled off stage. ‘What was that?!’ Mikey asked, astounded. ‘Adrenaline Baby’ I winked, glancing over at you, but you were busy annoying Ray. You didn’t say a word about it to me, or anyone for that matter...

I’m so sorry for our first, real kiss. We were sat in my bedroom drinking beers, vodka, whatever I had in the stash under my bed. We weren’t slaughtered, just tipsy. I can drink allot, my body has become almost immune to alcohol, and I know you could drink a fair bit too. ‘Gee, can I ask you something?’ You asked. ‘Go on?’ I urged you. ‘Well, you know our concert at New-‘ I cut you off. I locked my lips softly against yours. You were shocked at first, but you soon relaxed and kissed back. It wasn’t a fierce kiss; it was just tender, and loving. No tongue, just us, moving our lips in time with each other. It wasn’t a long kiss, a few seconds maybe. I felt you pull away. ‘Frank, I erm, I’m sorry’ I stood up; wanting to walk away, but you grabbed my wrist. ‘Stay, Gerard’ you whispered as you looked me dead in the eyes. ‘You just answered my question’. You winked, and my heart stopped beating as you led me back to the bed...

I’m so sorry for telling you I loved you. You started coming round to mine more often, and we made up excuses to keep our secret relationship thriving. We would try and spend every single drop of spare time we had together, and that meant hanging out in coffee shops out of town, sneaking up into your bedroom, down to mine. But mostly mine. My Ma didn’t really care anyway. She liked you. Remember? She used to cook you dinner all of the time. She’d cooked you dinner this time as well. We were sat in my bedroom, watching The Nightmare before Christmas. It was your favourite film. We were close, so close I could feel your warm breath on my chest. It was late, and you were dozing off. ‘I love you Gee’ you murmured sleepily. ‘I love you too Frankie’ I whispered quietly, before kissing you sweetly on the forehead. ‘You serious?’ You asked, disbelieving me. I nodded gently, as you kissed me, a kiss filled with Passion...

I’m so sorry for our first time. ‘Are you sure this is what you want baby?’ I whispered as I gazed into your eyes and caressed your face in my hand. You nodded your head lightly and I reached for the small bottle on the floor just under the bed. I squirted some of the oily liquid onto my fingers and gave you a reassuring look. Your body quivered and trembled underneath me as I slid in one finger. Two. Three. I stretched them out and your face screwed up in pain. ‘Frank...’ I consoled you. ‘Gerard please, this is what I want’ I sighed. My fingers slid out gently and I squirted some more of the lubricant onto my hands. I lubed up my member and ever so gently guided it into your arse. Your toes curled up, gathering the bed sheets, and your hands turned into fists. You let out a small murmur, but it was impossible to tell if it was from pain, or from satisfaction. I started thrusting my hips into you, varying speed and depth. You laid there mewling with delight. ‘Gee, I- OH GER... FUCK.. GERARD’ you screamed as you shot your load onto both of our abdomens. I pulled out and finished the job myself, as I didn’t want to do anything more than necessary. I was scared, and I didn’t want to do anything wrong or hurt you. I laid down beside you and wrapped my arms around your waist. We both fell asleep like that, although I couldn’t tell you who fell asleep first, or what time it was...

I’m so sorry for letting you move into my house. Everyone knew about us by then, and most people were cool with it. Of course we were bound to get abuse from the odd homophobe. I was still living in the basement, but you were practically living round mine anyway. Do you remember I got you that necklace? It had a key on it. You asked what it was for, and when I told you it was for our front door you literally jumped into my arms. I had to hold your arse to keep you up, but it was just so special. You were so happy, and everything was perfect...

I’m so sorry for my drinking. I can’t even remember how it got that bad. It was social. It always had been. But we started going out more. The more I drank, the more I wanted to drink. It was a vicious cycle, and it was poisoning me. One beer became three, three became five, and five became addiction. It was stupid really. And then I started drinking in the day. Not late afternoon. Like in the fucking morning. You knew how bad I was Frankie. I was getting up on stage and doing shows absolutely slaughtered. I was giving the band My Chemical Romance a really bad name, but I couldn’t stop myself...

I’m so sorry for the drugs. It started off as Paracetamol, Codeine, all of those over the counter pain reliefs, nothing nasty. Until Bert handed me that small, zip lock bag full of the white. We were touring with the Used, and were out getting wasted in some shitty bar in the middle of nowhere. I and Bert slipped out the back for a cigarette. There was a blue neon sign above us that was near the end of its days and flickering. I can’t remember what we were talking about. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out clear bag from his back pocket. It was only a few inches big, I think it was square, but I can’t be too sure. I was drunk (no surprise eh?) so I don’t really remember much. ‘Try it’ he said. He didn’t say it aggressively, but it comes across more of a demand than a suggestion. We trailed back in and I went to the bathroom. On the side of the sink. I’d seen how to take coke a load of times in films. You block one nostril as you snort a line. I don’t really think what I snorted could be counted as a line, but it bared some resemblance...

I’m so sorry for the fights, and the drunken words that didn’t mean a thing. I can’t really remember much of this. I know I hurt you, and I know we were arguing a lot, and I vaguely remember you crying, but it was all a bit of a blur. I was out getting off my head with booze and drugs, leaving you at home to worry. When I got home you’d ask me where I’d been, although you learnt that that was a really bad idea in the end. I’d get really defensive and tell you that it was none of your business. It all got out of hand. No after a few times this happened, when I came home I found you crying, mostly because you knew what would happen when I got home. Every morning I’d wake up and apologise, and you would accept it and brush it off like it was nothing. I really hurt you, didn’t I Frank? ...

I’m so sorry for blowing all of my cash. Cocaine is expensive you know. I think the street value of it is around $5 for a hit now. It’s not exactly the cheapest thing. I started becoming more and more dependent on it. I needed it more that I needed food. Before I knew it, I had no more money left. I was borrowing money, food, pretty much everything from anyone that was offering...

I’m so sorry for Bert. I was by this point an addict. I needed coke to keep me with it. I tried to come off it... believe me I did. I tried just for you baby... But I just couldn’t do it. It had control of my life, and I couldn’t make me own decisions any more. When I finally used up all of my money on that one bag, I couldn’t afford to buy anymore. I could barely afford to buy food. I was out of cash completely, and the only way I could get what I needed was to do ‘favours’ for my dealer. Bert had always had a soft spot for me, and as soon as he heard I was out of cash, he was straight on it. He knew my addiction, how desperate I was. He was the only one I could turn to. I became his personal sex slave to get my coke, and I kept it from you... I was scared i’d loose you to that shit, and more- to him...

I’m so sorry for making you so angry. I’m not entirely sure what happened that night, or what you knew, but you found out. I can’t even remember how. You screamed at me. You were so, so angry. Tears streamed down your face as you screeched all kinds of insults towards my way. You found my stash, and you poured it down the sink. It was my last hit. I shoved you away. You fell over. The look on your face was horrible. You just looked so shocked. You stood up and slapped me round the face. Before I knew it I had you pinned up against the wall by the collar of your favourite shirt. I managed to stop myself before I did anything stupid. I looked you in the eyes. I saw the fear that masked your face. You had lines of watery black down your face, and your face was blotchy. You winced at the opening of my mouth, but I didn’t say anything horrible. ‘I’m so sorry’ I whispered brokenly as I let go of your collar and released you from the wall...

I’m so sorry for hurting you. It took a while for us to talk again. I knew nothing would be the same. You couldn’t even look me in the eyes. I was upstairs walking to Mikeys bedroom to grab a DVD when I heard gentle sobs coming from inside the tiled bathroom. I rushed through and opened the door, to find you sat there with amounts of blood dripping down your arm. You looked distraught and began trying to explain yourself. I bit back tears, shook my head and left the room. I couldn’t deal with you at that moment of time. I was struggling- I was giving up. I had been clean for four days, since our argument. I hadn’t talked to Bert or touched a single drop of alcohol and it was killing me. You doing that was just stupid. We all had our own problems, most probably a lot worse than yours, and I just thought you were seeking attention that I hadn’t given to you...

I’m so sorry for making you end your life. Oh how I was wrong. Why didn’t I stay with you when I walked into you cutting? I should have stayed. I’m so stupid. I should never have let you spend another second on your own. You accused me of not caring. You said that you were better off without me. I denied it. I told you that I cared about you, that you were my whole life, and that I loved you more than anything else in this world- which wasn’t exactly lying. I wanted to go back in time. I want to go back in time. I shouldn’t have gone out for a walk to clear up my head either. I told you that I had to, I told you to calm down, and I told you that we’d have a civilised conversation when I got back. But when I got back, there were no calm, civilised conversations. There were no conversations. There was no you. I looked everywhere for you. I thought you’d gone out, left with no warning. I rang your mobile, and heard the feint ringing coming from the floor above me. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. You were in the bathroom again, and I expected you to be sat there staring at me with open wounds when I opened the door. Sure enough you had blood on your wrists but you weren’t staring at me. You weren’t staring at anyone. Your head was back, your eyes were shut, and you were sat in a large pool of your own blood. I panicked. I screamed. I cried. I called an ambulance. I ran out of the house, I couldn’t stay in there. Your face was twisted, in horrible, unbearable agony. I heard sirens. Everything else was a blur, and I’m glad it was. Hey Frankie, do you remember when I told you that I couldn’t live without you? I wasn’t lying... And that’s why-

-I’m so sorry for taking mine...