Maybe it's not worth it.
but after this chapter, things should pick up.
I also plan on making this fairly long, so I don't want to rush anything.
Oh! and because I'm an idiot and decided to start a new story when this one
isn't anywhere near done,
I'd appreciate if you'd check it out and R&R
I bolt up in bed and am suddenly awaken from the dream I was having. I can't remember what is was about now, but it must have been pretty bad if my frantic pulse and sweat drenched back are anything to go by. My mind is still hazy with sleep, so I rub my eyes harshly and try to clear my head as I inspect my unfamiliar surroundings. The television has been shut off, so Gerard must be finished with his shower. But when I turn to the left side of the bed, it's empty and the sheets are even cooler than when I fell asleep, meaning he never came to lay down on it.
I avert my gaze to the bedside table where there's an analogue clock resting, and check the time. The green LED lights are telling me it's 5:14 a.m. but that can't be right. Can it? Where's Gerard? The room is pitch black, the only source of illumination coming from the digital clock and the faltering moonlight spilling through the closed curtains of the window. I get up and decide to open up the curtains instead of exposing my still sensitive eyes to the harsh electrical light of the hotel room.
I take another glance around the room to find it empty. I make my way towards the bathroom, hopefully to find Gerard there, but as I expected, it's just as empty as the bedroom. I switch on the light to make sure and scan the small space to find that Gerard left all his things in the bathroom after showering. His bag is thrown haphazardly against the bath tub, some articles of clothing spilling out. Something laid out on the floor catches the light and my vision is drawn to it.
As I pick it up, I realize it's Gerard's cell phone. That wouldn't be so bizarre if it weren't for the huge crack now present on the reflective surface of the screen that I'm positive wasn't there a few hours ago. Oh well, he must have dropped it. The screen suddenly flashes to life and Incoming Call: Mikey is displayed as the phone vibrates in my hand. I ignore it and set it on the counter next to the sink, obviously not planning on answering Gerard's calls for him when I've only known him for a day.
The typical toiletries are placed messily on the counter, tooth brush, tooth paste, comb...a bottle of pills. I quickly look away from the counter, trying to fool myself into swiping what I just saw from memory. It doesn't work, however, all it does is bring back terrifying flashbacks I had hoped I'd never have to recall ever again. Before I can dissolve into a full blown panic attack, I force my attention on something, anything, else.
Gerard's phone vibrates again on the counter, making it move slightly across the surface. The screen reads 1 New Voicemail: Mikey. I know I asked for a distraction, but this might just be too much. It's wrong to look through other people's messages, I know it is, but something eats at the back of my mind, telling me to just take a look.
I chew on my lip ring, contemplating what I should do. I recognize the name on the screen to be Gerard's younger brother he told me about. It's none of my business, I should just go back to bed and get some sleep. I peek my head out of the bathroom and look around the room to check if it's still empty. To my right, the door is still locked and the hallway beyond it is quiet.
Before I can change my mind, I walk back into the bathroom and pick up Gerard's cell phone, quickly pressing a button to listen to the message.
First Unheard Message
That's it, I give up Gerard.
The tone in which Gerard's brother begins the message catches me by surprise. From what Gerard has told me, the relationship between Mikey and himself is impeccable. By the way Gerard talks about his younger sibling, it seems that their relationship goes way past the boundaries of being just blood related; they're best friends. What could Gerard have done to make Mikey sound so distraught, so bitter, so...on the edge of tears?
Ray and Bob keep saying you'll come back soon, but I'm not an idiot, I know they're just saying that to make me feel better.
Come back? What is he talking about? I suddenly realize that Gerard never answered my question when I asked him why he was coming to London. Neither did I, but that's beside the point. It strikes me how little I actually know Gerard, and am slightly sickened when I get the yearning at the pit of my stomach to find out everything there is to know about the complex enigma that is Gerard Way.
You've obviously decided you've had enough and abandoned me just like our parents and everyone else. I just hope you're not lying dead in a ditch somewhere.
Those two sentences were obviously meant to sound stern and sarcastic, but even I, who knows close to nothing about Mikey Way, can hear the agony behind each syllable. It breaks my heart to hear him talk like this as much as it spikes my curiosity. I know it's unreasonable, but a small bubble of hate grows for Gerard in the back of my mind for making his younger brother feel like this. I don't know why he left or what he's running from, but I really doubt whatever reason he has is a good enough excuse.
Mikey begins to speak again but my hearing is obscured by the sound of fumbling keys outside of the closed door to the hotel room. I quickly end the call and place Gerard's cell phone back where I found it on the floor before he catches me snooping through his things. I exit the bathroom to hear Gerard still trying to get the door open and sigh in relief as I jump back into bed, hide under the covers, and pretend to be asleep.
After what seems like an eternity, Gerard gets the door open and proceeds to slam the door shut behind him a bit more forcefully than needed. I hear his clumsy foot steps drag him closer to the bed and once he's mere feet away from me, I catch the strong scent of alcohol in the air. So that's where he was, out getting drunk?
I scrunch up my face in disgust at both the smell of alcohol and Gerard's behavior, but manage to keep up my act of being asleep.
The call was probably meant to be a whisper, but in his drunken state it comes out as a loud, obnoxious stage whisper, that really isn't a whisper at all. If I actually was asleep, I would have surely awaken. Gerard proceeds to shrug off his jacket and kick off his shoes before throwing himself onto the bed next to me. I don't notice exactly how close, since my eyes are shut, until he speaks into my ear, hot breath making me shiver.
The sudden closeness scares the shit out of me and makes me jump at least a foot off the bed. Gerard giggles maniacally and, even though I know it's mostly because he's wasted, I can't stop myself from smiling at how cute it sounds.
"Ssorry, didn mean to sscare you."
His drunken slur and thick Jersey accent mix into his voice until it's almost impossible to understand what he's saying. I get the message though, and I don't join Gerard in his fit of giggles at my reaction.
"Gerard, you're drunk."
Well, there's no use beating around the bush when dealing with a drunken idiot. I know from experience. Another strand of giggles escape Gerard's lips before he pulls himself together enough to respond.
Gerard seems to be a pretty happy drunk, which is a great contrast to my father's aggressive, abusive behavior when he's intoxicated, but I still feel my anger and irritation growing that Gerard got himself into this state in the first place.
"Yes. Care to explain why?"
Gerard leans back on the bed and rolls his eyes carelessly.
"I dunno. Jusst wanted a drink. You gotta loosen up, Frankie baby."
Gerard's careless reaction to my anger annoys me to no end, but I still feel my stomach flip and my the teenage hormones squeal inside my head at Gerard's spontaneous nickname. How annoying. I say nothing, but continue to sit next to Gerard and glare at him. He sits up unexpectedly fast for someone who's alcohol level must be through the roof at the point, and stumbles towards the bathroom. He calls over his shoulder as he reaches the sink.
"I've got juss watcha need."
I'm still too angry to concentrate on what Gerard's trying to say, so it's reasonable when I'm caught completely by surprise when Gerard collapses back onto the bed and drops something into my limp hand. I look up at him in confusion as he winks at me.
I look down into my hand and to find a small white pill resting on my slightly tanned skin. I make a sound that expresses my utter disgust before chucking potentially deadly pill at Gerard's chest.
"I don't want that shit."
Gerard looks honestly confused, but that stupid drunken smile is still placed firmly on his face.
"Why not? It makess everythin better. Watch."
Although I knew Gerard was getting high on these pills, it's a completely different thing entirely to witness him swallowing one first hand. It slips past his perfectly plump lips and down his throat as he takes it into his system. And to my immense horror, the look on Gerard's face confirms that he believes exactly what just said. He thinks that drugging himself past the point of proper speech will chase away what ever demons haunt his everyday life.
"No, it doesn't. All it does is turn you into a worthless junkie and ruin your life."
Gerard's eyes drop to the white sheets underneath us and his shoulders slump considerably.
"You ssound like Mikey."
I narrow my eyes at Gerard's lowered head of black locks even though he can't see me, as I recall the voicemail I heard from Mikey.
"Maybe Mikey knows what he's talking about."
As soon as the words leave my mouth I regret them, and as I watch the sheets stain with the tears spilling off Gerard's face that's hidden from view, I regret them ten fold. A shudder runs through Gerard's spine as he suppresses a sob, and I can't hold myself back from comforting him any longer.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
I sit as close to Gerard as possible on the queen sized bed and bring him into a tight embrace. His hair tickles my nose as I rest it on the top of head and I run a hand through it in an attempt to sooth him. He pulls back to look me in the eyes before speaking again.
"Yess you did, and you're right. I aam a worthlesss junkie. But I can't help it."
It kills me, physically hurts, to see Gerard like this. The enchanting emerald eyes that I've become captivated with in such a short amount of time are now filled with screaming torture, red, raw and puffy from crying. There are still stray tears falling down his dark lashes as I gaze into them.
I'm at a lost for words at what to say to this lost soul that is currently clinging onto my tear stained shirt. I can now see the pain he must endure mentally each day that drives him to intoxicate himself until he no longer has to, but as he yawns widely and the sickening scent of alcohol seeps through, I feel no sympathy. Ever since I was a little kid, too innocent to understand the evil of alcohol and narcotics, I've had to live in fear of my abusive father who constantly left telling bruises and scars over my slim body I had to constantly hide from the world. Even now, there are still deep scars down my back and chest that will never fade away, all cruel reminders that I will never, never, turn to intoxication even at my worst, because I've lived the effects it has on people around you.
Gerard yawns again and his eyes begin to slide shut against his will. I know it's only a matter of minutes until he'll pass out, so I lay him down on the bed gently.
I didn't run away from the son of a bitch I call my father and his destructive lifestyle to fall in love with another fucking junkie.
Gerard is no better than him.
As many times as I chant that phrase in my mind as I get my things together, I know deep down I'll never believe that. Despite my doubts, I walk towards the door, and away from whatever relationship was forming between Gerard and I, into the waking London streets, determined to make a better life for myself in this new city.
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