New Years Eve.
Chapter One: A New Day
Every single bang dropped Gerard from the realm of sleep into that of the conscious. A hazy slumber would pull him back for a few moments, and then bang -- he would plummet once more. He rolled over in his sheets of Egyptian cotton, cursing the source of the wretched sound.
Finally, the creaking of door hinges announced the arrival of the source. Gerard's eyes remained shut, but he could already feel the pair of large green irises staring at him like those of an eager child on Christmas morning.
"Frankie..." Gerard moaned as he turned over, blinking his eyes until they did not automatically shut close. "..what did I tell you about banging the doors in the morning?"
"Pssh, well forgive me." Frank Iero grumbled indignantly, "I was just up early cooking your breakfast."
After a twentieth blink, Gerard's vision focused enough to see the evidence of this statement. Frank's white Black Flag shirt was laden with maple syrup, fingers not excluded. He smelt of the frying pan, and Gerard thought he saw a bit of strawberry topping on the right corner of his lips. Gerard gave him a small smile, hoping not to look ungrateful.
"Thanks, babe." he said meekly, his annoyance crawling and hiding itself in the back of his mind as he promptly shooed it. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't really sleep last night..."
"More nightmares?" Frank frowned, his brow creasing with worry. Gerard detested that look. That look of concern Frank so often gave him -- the one that made his bottom lip pout, his eyes wider than normal, and his fingers wrestle one another restlessly -- it made him feel childlike.
"No..." Gerard lied, his gaze dropping slightly. "Just had too much caffeine, I guess."
Frank sighed and Gerard knew he did not believe him. Thankfully, he nonetheless dropped the subject and closed it with a small and curt nod. Eager to get on a lighter note, Gerard puckered his lips at Frank who instantly leaned in for a maple-syrup flavored kiss. Frank even moved up to give him a smooch on the forehead before he pulled away.
"Breakfast is downstairs whenever you're ready." Frank told him before walking across the carpet floor and leaving out into the hallway.
Gerard watched his boyfriend walk until he was out of sight. He then got up himself, his hand brushing against something hard and cold on the mattress. He picked up what turned out to be his iPhone, activating the screen with the corner button. The daily ritual of the first morning email check was delayed by the date Gerard saw below the big white numbers on the clock.
It was New Years Eve.
They had somewhere to be tonight, Gerard remembered. He left their bedroom, walking his way over to the kitchen. As he stepped out into the hallway, the smell of strawberry waffles and maple syrup penetrated his nostrils and filled them more with each inch further ventured. How did he know they were waffles, and not pancakes?
Because he fucking hated pancakes, that was how.
Frank had moved in with him around two months ago, and this was one thing that he was able to get right off the bat. While Frank ignored most of Gerard's other rules and requests in regards to successful co-habitation, his preferences in matters of the mouth and taste seemed to have become Frank's highest priority in life.
In a matter of weeks, Frank knew all of Gerard's favorite recipes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He was always pushing for him to eat. Gerard wondered if Frank just wanted him to be of a heavier structure...like she was.
She of course, was referring to the former Mrs. Iero. Jamia. Jamia had always been a particularly big woman, while Frank himself transitioned from big to small, to big, to small again, various times since Gerard had known him. They had dated for years, and eventually married, having two twin girls as a result of what Frank had once admitted was an "accident".
Yet even with Jamia on his ring finger, Frank had kept Gerard on a string. After the twins had been born, Gerard nearly lost all hope, but Frank continued to grant him promises and fill his head with dreams of "one day".
It took Gerard spiraling into a year of bulimia to finally reel in Frank's full attention.
Gerard had lost his own wife and child through a sordid love affair, divorce papers, and a custody battle that was over before it even began. The depression that followed quickly turned into anxiety, which then manifested into a well known eating disorder. Although his brother was mostly granted the caretaking duties, Frank was a surprising clutch in the healing process.
They spent eternities together in white walled rooms and therapy visits. It was a frightening time, but Frank protected him -- he kept him safe. Within those months, their eyes were opened to a need for each other that had been hidden from them, that they never noticed in the hustle and bustle of their every day lives.
Frank soon after divorced Jamia, he broke her heart. She herself was left to fall into an ocean of depression, while Frank helped Gerard swim out of his.
No one in their close friends and family knew what to think, or how to feel about such bittersweet events. Some ceased to speak to them, and some just wanted to stay out of it.
The only thing certain was that Frank and Gerard were two very stubborn men -- there was no way of talking them out of this, and the only thing they could do was watch and wait and pray that they knew what they were doing.
Their wealth enabled them to afford a house together immediately. And so, here they were.
"Hey." sat one stubborn man in front of the other, their table engrossed in plates of waffles, bagels, and boxes of cereal. "Are we still going to the party tonight?"
Frank held up a finger, signaling Gerard to wait for him to swallow his mouthful of Cookie Crisp mush. Finally, an audible gulp.
"Yeah, I believe so. Did you ask Mikey if he wanted to go?"
"He didn't give me a direct answer, but I wouldn't wait up for him." said Gerard thoughtfully, "I'll text him but if he doesn't respond by six, I say we just go ahead."
"Ah, Alicia's probably got him tied to the bed again." Frank smirked, while Gerard mentally turned away from any unwelcomed imagery that came with that remark. He picked at his waffles, outlining the tiny square imprints with the tip of one fork spike.
The band had been on a break, and despite having moved back to New Jersey, Gerard rarely saw Mikey anymore. He wasn't sure if Mikey had just become much more devoted to his wife, Alicia, or if Mikey was just less interested in him.
"You are going to do more than just pick at your food aren't you?" Frank's scolding tone snapped Gerard out of his ponderings.
Gerard gave Frank a small glare to match his own before he turned to his plate and wolfed down as much of the mixture as he could, syrup licking the insides of his mouth and attaching its heavy coating around his tongue. Satisfied, Frank went back to his own food.
The rest of the day was filled with sweaty palms on Playstation controllers and warm embraces reserved for private afternoons at home. They showered for the party together, rubbing their bubble covered hands vigorously through each others hair, sharing kisses in an artificial rain storm.
At six o' clock, it was time to go. They both got in their shared Honda Civic, Frank in the driver's seat and Gerard in the passengers.
"You look ravishing." Frank remarked as he leaned in to put the keys in the ignition. "Your hair looks amazing."
Gerard twirled a rose red lock of hair that happened to be on his face at the moment, "Oh why thank you, my boyfriend helped me with it."
"Well clearly," Frank winked. "your boyfriend is a man of superb style."
Gerard went into the beginnings of a laugh before he abruptly stopped, making it sound as though he had let out some hacking cough instead.
"My meds!" he yelled before he jolted out of the car, onto the driveway, and back into their home. Gerard emerged one minute later, pill bottles in hand.
"That was close." Gerard mumbled as he stepped back into his seat, popping three different colored pills into his mouth and dry swallowing them each.
"Since when did you take three? I thought it was only supposed to be two."
"Dr. Hart told me I could increase my dosage of the anxiety pills, one wasn't doing much for me." Gerard explained in such a casual manner, he could have been talking about a sale on potato chips.
Frank opened his mouth to argue, but the clock on the dashboard begged them to get going. He figured they'd talk about it another time, as he put the car into reverse and began to back up.
New Years Eve, after all, was meant to symbolize new beginnings. However, as experience should have reminded our dear Frank, the beginning of one thing usually means the end of something else.
This is the story of Gerard Way's end.