One-shot Frerard. Gerard hasn't been getting out much lately, since MCR split up and all... Based on the song Demon Fire by Davenport Cabinet. The lyrics are in italics.
They've serviced their saviours
Strictly by catholic demand
'MCR Shock Break-up' the headline glared out at me. I sighed heavily and threw the magazine onto the table. I made my way back to bed which is where I'd spent most of the past month. There was just no point anymore. I had nowhere to go, nothing to do and I certainly didn't want to talk to anyone. Since the whole break-up thing happened, I'd just shut myself away. Ignored the world.
Mikey had called in on me of course, but his visits had become less and less frequent. It hurt him seeing me like this. Each time he came to see me, I was in a worse state. I wasn't showering, I was spending all my time lying in bed but barely sleeping. I wasn't eating. I was just filling myself up with cigarettes and alcohol. He used to visit me every day, now I was lucky if it was once a week. The visits were always fleeting too. He would arrive, fix me some food which I wouldn't eat, clean up a little and then he would be gone. Back to his perfect wife and loving friends. And I was stuck here on my own. I had no-one.
Today in the papers
It's one sorry saviour
He asks for forgiveness from man
About a week had passed since the split was announced in the papers. I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed and over to the front door where my newspaper had just been pushed through. I picked it up and went back into the bedroom to lie on the bed and read. I may have been depressed and hopeless, but that didn't meant I didn't want to know what was going on in the world. Besides, it might take my mind off of things for a while. I looked down at the front page.
There it was. A face. His face. Right in the middle of the page, smiling apologetically up into the camera, acting all innocent. It made me want to punch him. I turned the bedroom light on, wincing slightly at the brightness. I collapsed onto the bed and scanned the article. The words 'sorry' and 'misunderstanding' and 'regret' jumped out at me. Bullshit. Just a load of bullshit for the cameras so the fans wouldn't blame him for the split. It was his fault. If he was really so full of regret, he wouldn't be talking about all this 'misunderstanding' crap and admit to what he'd done. He'd admitted it to me, but that wasn't enough. The people needed to hear it.
One single wrong
Shall burn on
I thought about what it was that he had done. He'd broken my heart. I skipped down to the end of the interview and was about to throw it aside when I caught my name.
'Gerard, please forgive me?'
I stared at that line. Tears began to cloud my vision and fall onto the paper, making the ink run.
I wanted to forgive him. I really fucking wanted to forgive him. Forgive him, and carry on as we were before, but I just don't think I could. He'd hurt me. Really bad. He'd crushed my heart and that's not something you can forget easily. All I wanted was for him to hold me in his arms again and tell me he was sorry. I'm sure, given the opportunity, he would. It wouldn't mean anything to him though…
It would just happen again, and I couldn't deal with that. I couldn't trust him anymore. That was it. I just had to forget about him.
I got off the bed and dragged myself into the kitchen. I reached into the cupboard that I kept fully stocked and pulled out half a bottle of vodka. I swallowed it all down without flinching and proceeded to stagger my way back to my room, where I collapsed on my bed.
Well you see on the screens
They've blown up machines
All in the name of a God
I woke up the next morning with the worst headache imaginable. I managed to pull myself up off the bed. I swayed on the spot for a minute and then hastily rushed to the bathroom where I vomited noisily in the toilet. I sank to the floor and slowly crawled my way back to bed. I slid so that my torso was hanging off the bed. I winced as the movement made my head pound even more. I reached underneath and pulled out my laptop, plugging the charger into the wall. This had become my daily routine. Playing on video games in the day and drinking myself into a stupor at night. This was my life now. I pressed the on button and typed my password in.
I automatically checked my email, like usual and, like usual I expected to see the inbox empty. I was surprised when I saw 'Inbox (2)'. I clicked onto the first message. Spam. I sighed, deleting it ready for the second to be the same. But it wasn't.
Long time no see… Look, I'm really sorry about what happened, and I can't tell you enough. I was stupid and really drunk and messed up, and I know that's not an excuse but please hear me out. Meet me by the old tour bus tomorrow at 1 o'clock. We need to talk about this. I miss you.
I love you.
I stared at the message blankly. Why? Why was he doing this to me? He's just going to end up hurting me again. He's just doing this to look better in front of the fans. He doesn't love me. He never did, I thought but I couldn't stop the little part of me that thought he might…
There's no harm in talking, right?
I typed back and clicked send.
We look in the flames
The ashes have names
The ones that have died for a cause
The next day at 12:30 I was stood beside our old tour bus. It was out of use at the moment, but I expected it would be sold to some other band. I came early because I wanted to go inside the bus and look around, just for the memories and shit you know?
I still had the door key, although I probably should have given it back. I guess I kept it because somewhere in the back of my mind, I hoped we'd get back together.
I unlocked the door. I stepped inside and looked around. Empty. It was completely empty. I sighed and walked over to the far end of the bus - where the bunks used to be - and over to the spot where me and Frank used to lay together at night, exchanging soft kissed and 'I love you' s. I sighed at the memory and moved to sit on the floor, resting my head against he wall. I closed my eyes and remembered when the tour bus sued to be full of life. When we used to all sit in the tiny kitchen and drink together after shows, laughing and joking or sometimes we'd go out. I missed that. I missed everything.
I was disturbed from the reminiscing by a click from the lock. I opened my eyes in time to see the door fly open, and an anxious looking Frank rush in. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw me, slumped against the wall.
'I thought you weren't coming' he gasped, walking over to me.
One single wrong
Can burn on
'Hey' he muttered, sliding down to sit next to me on the floor.
'Hey' I whispered back, staring straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with him.
There was an awkward silence, and when it became apparent that I wasn't going to break it, he sighed loudly.
'So… how are things?'
'Fine' I replied monosyllabically.
'I talked to Mikey… he said you were having a really hard time'
'Yeah, he said you haven't left the house since… since…'
'Since what Frank?' I snapped 'Since you broke my heart? Since you ran off and fucked someone else?' I was yelling by now 'Since you ruined this whole fucking band with your lying, cheating ways?' I stood up, pacing the bus, my hands clenched into fists. I rested my head against the opposite wall, turning away from him as angry tears began to fall down my cheeks.
'Gee… Gee I never lied to you' he murmured. He got up and stood behind me, placing his hands gently on my hips. I flinched away.
'Don't touch me' I growled, turning around and pushing him away
'And don't call me 'Gee' either.' My voice was slightly calmer now, but it still held traces of anger.
'How can you say you never fucking lied to me?'
'Because I didn't. I came clean. I never tried to cover up what I did.'
'I'm not talking about that Frank, I'm talking about all the times you told me you loved me' tears had begun to cascade down my cheeks again.
'Oh Gee… Gee, baby' He crooned, walking towards me and backing me up against the wall. He raised a hand to my cheeks and gently wiped the tears away.
'Gee, I do love you baby, and if you'd only give me the chance, I'd prove it to you again'
I wanted to hit him. I really wanted to hit him, but I couldn't. I could never hurt him, no matter how much he hurt me. I could feel it happening. I could feel my anger melting away at his touch, replaced by the love and want I'd been locking away for the past few months.
We start up this fire
With hope and desire
That someone will wake up tonight
'Gee' he whispered. His hand cupped my cheek and his lips were only millimetres from mine.
'Please forgive me?' and with that he pressed his lips carefully to mine.
That was it. I knew right then and there that I would forgive him. It didn't matter how many times he screwed me over. I would always forgive him, because I love him and that's what love does. It clouds your judgement and makes you see things differently, but you don't care because it's an amazing feeling. I don't understand it and I don't think I ever will, but it doesn't matter because you don't have to understand it, you just have to feel it. And I did.
'I love you Gee'
'I love you Frankie'
We start up this fire
Even though we are tired
Someone must wake up tonight