“Gerard, put that fucking sketchbook down and watch me!” yelled Mikey.
I grinned and looked up, putting my sketchbook on the table next to me. Nothing will make me put my sketchbook down in the middle of a drawing – nothing except Mikey. I watched as he played the bass part for Guitar Hero, hitting every note perfectly even though it was on Expert mode. It’s amazing that he didn’t even know how to play bass a few years ago. I looked back down at my drawing. If I could just shade in that small shape before Mikey finished the song...
Of course, I couldn't stick to that one tiny shape. Soon I was colouring my whole drawing like my life depended on it. I was woken up from my fantasy world of art when I heard sounds of computer-generated booing. “Frank!” screamed Mikey, “You are never playing drums for us again!”
“Well sorry! It’s not my fault that I’ve never played drums in my life, is it? What did you expect? Besides, it’s not like you’re perfect. Remember the first show we ever played, when you-“
Frank didn’t get to finish his sentence. Mikey had leapt onto him, and shoved him down onto the bed. They started wrestling each other, a ball of pure fury. Ray and I glanced at each other. What could we do? We didn’t want to get dragged into it either. Better to just let them cool off. I got back to my drawing, and Ray went to get a coffee. I was working on my latest comic book. Ray soon came back, with a steaming mug of delicious coffee. I could really go for some, actually. Frank pushed Mikey off the bed. Luckily, they had reached the stage where everything just becomes hilarious, and were laughing at everything. Unfortunately, Mikey didn’t see that Ray had a cup of coffee. He playfully pushed into Ray, causing him to spill boiling hot liquid all over the floor – and all over my artwork. The room became completely silent as Mikey registered what he had done. Ray, naturally, thought he was completely responsible. He immediately ran to get a huge roll of toilet paper.
“Oh my god Gee, I’m so sorry, I’m so clumsy… didn’t mean to…”
“No, Ray dude,” said Mikey, “it wasn’t your fault it, was me…” Mikey stopped as he saw the full damage that he had done to my drawing. He breathed in sharply. “Shit, man. I’m so sorry.”
I didn’t say a word. I just stood up and walked out of the room, leaving my sketchbook behind. I went out onto the small motel veranda. Mikey came after me, holding my sketchbook. “Gee, you forgot…” He looked at the notebook properly. It was him and me. I had drawn us to look like superheroes – we were on our own team. We were called the Brotherhood. I had drawn a picture of me stuck underneath a huge rock. Mikey was desperately trying to lift the rock off of me, powered by his protective instinct to save me. Mikey flicked to the next page. We were hugging. Underneath I had written, “Mikey had managed to save Gerard, and soon they were back – saving the world and kicking ass!”
“Gerard, I’m so sorry. I can’t make it up to you, I’m crap at art, but…”
“Mikey, please, just leave me alone.”
Mikey looked crushed. My heart became sore looking at his face. I tore my eyes away and looked out over the ocean. Mikey backed away, taking the sketchbook with him.