[Frerard] Gerard is slowly falling apart. Can he save himself before the only person he's ever loved gives up on him?
“I- I should probably go… The guys… yep.” He mumbled, standing up and staggering out slowly. The girl nodded, knowing there was no point trying to make him stay. He was Gerard Way, and he wouldn’t remember her face the next morning. She whispered goodbye and shut the door after him.
He walked through the streets of… (Where am I)… a city, still drunk, humming, till he found a nice looking park and sat down. He pulled out his cellphone and pressed 4. He had his mom and bandmates on speed dial, so it had to be someone good. A familiar voice answered groggily.
“Hey, hey, hey Mikey!” Gerard slurred to his brother.
“Gee! Where are you, man? We saw you go off with that chick… Are you with her?”
“Nah man. Where are you guys? I like, have no freakiiin idea where I am, y’know?”
“ Fuck, Gee.” Mikey sighed. “We’re at the Hilton. Where are you?”
“Uuuuum, a park.” Said Gerard, in a sing song voice that told Mikey he was fucking wasted. Well, there’s only one park round these parks, Mikey thought.
“Right, I’ll be there soon.” He said, hanging up.
I woke up with a horrible headache, in an unfamiliar hotel room. There was another figure sleeping in the bed next to mine, and a suitcase I identified as my own was at the foot of my bed. I got up, nursing my head, and made my way across the room to a little fridge that sat under a counter. I opened it to reveal a host of various mini bottles of alcohol. I smiled and took out as many as I could carry, wandering back to bed and going under the covers with that who I love the most.
I opened my eyes to a bright alarm clock which told me that it was 11am. I wrinkled my nose and rolled over, looking to Gerard’s bed. At first I thought he was still asleep, till I heard clinking and saw the covers move. I rolled my eyes and sat up “Gerard?” No reply, then a muffled “Mmmm?” I got up and walked to his bed, pulling the covers off, only to find him curled up around an assortment of empty, unopened and half full bottles of booze, and a bottle of pills that had spilled all through his bed. “Morning Frankie.” Gerard muttered, as I sighed and walked away without replying.