Shortest. Chapter. Ever. I apologise. And the chapter name is shit too. Soz! D:
We drove home from the hospital, listening to Lostalone, and joking around. Seeing Naren had had a strange affect on me, it made me weirdly happy. She seemed to have the same effect on Mikey.
It had made me laugh out loud when she asked for an autograph, but I signed the toe of her black converse shoe for her. So did Mikey, grinning as he doodled on her shoe. We planned on visiting her tomorrow.
Ten minutes later I pulled up outside our house, and stepped out of the car and onto the pavement. I walked up the steps to our front door, and pushing it open, Mikey following me inside. We walked through to the living room, where mom was watching TV.
"Hey mom," Mikey said, sitting down .
I plonked myself down on the one seater couch and groaned in exhaustion.
"Hi Mikes. So who did you have to visit? And where?" she asked us, smiling.
"We had an injured fan that Gerard found in the park to visit in hospital," Mikey explained.
"Well, that's completely normal.... That's very sweet of you, Gerard! And how did she get injured?"
"Self harm," Gerard muttered.
"Oh." Donna's face fell a little.
"We're going to see her tomorrow again. You should come! Her name's Naren. She's adorable!" Mikey piped up.
"Mikey, she's a fifteen year old girl, not a chihuahua! But she is kinda cute," Gerard said.
"Gerard has a crush on Naren!" Mikey shrieked, making his brother and mother look at him in disgust.
"Mikey, that's disgusting. How could you say that? I am a married man, in my thirties, with a daughter, and you say that I have a crush on a fifteen year old girl? That makes me sound like a pedophile!" Gerard said, trying to keep calm.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Forgive me, I didn't mean anything. And speaking of Lindsey and Bandit, aren't they coming here in a few days or something?"
"Yeah, I think Lady B would love Naren," Gerard said, his anger disappearing to be replaced with a grin.
They watched TV for a while, then Gerard decided to call it a night and head to his old basement room. He headed down the stairs and opened the door, still covered in Iron Maiden posters and drawings from his teenage years. He noticed that not much had changed. His mother, it seemed, had cleaned it for him coming home. There was a stack of old comics on his desk, with his favourite drawing pencils that he thought he had lost. He looked in his desk drawers and found a collection of old music tapes. He flipped through them. Iron Maiden, The Misfits, David Bowie, etc. He plugged in the David Bowie one and took off his shirt and jeans, draping them over his chair.
David Bowie played softly into the night, long after Gerard was asleep.