Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Hollow Bottles
The florescent lights from the bars adjacent to the vacant apartment cascaded across the filthy wooden floor and illuminated Mikey's half-asleep face. He stayed awake in attempt to catch his brother doing something, but the longer he waited, the less his brother did. Eventually, he rolled around to face the back of the couch only to have an unknown aroma enter his nose which sent an ill feeling through his small body. It was quite possible that the beer was no longer his friend and quickly became his enemy. Setting up, he quickly jumped up from the couch and fell over Gerard who had been seated in the floor in front of the couch. Mikey lied there for a moment in hopes that everything coming up would fall back into the pit of his stomach. A subtle sound of sniffling hit his ear, so he gradually sat back up to face his brother, “Gerard?”
Dark bangs draped over his upper face hiding what could be tearful eyes. He carefully wiped his locks from his view and he indeed had been covering his emotions, “Mikey, I'm sorry. I'm a terrible influence. I'm so afraid that dad will get angry at you for being out and it's all my fault.” He rubbed his nose in an upward motion and sniffled loudly.
Even in the dim light, Mikey could see residue outlining his nostrils and found it hard to rack his mind of something to say. Absentmindedly he scooted towards him and brought him into a hug, “Calm down. At least you're not doing drugs in front of me.”
“I did, while you were asleep on the couch,” he cried into Mikey's shoulder. He had yet to wrap his arms around him. The arms and shoulder disappeared as he gazed back up at his younger brother's concerned eyes. “I'm a fucking wreck. I can't do anything. I can't even get a fucking job if I had to because I cannot stay clean long enough.” His tears commenced pouring harder from his eyes as he leaned forward grasping Mikey's hands. “Kill me... I'm not worth saving.”
Mikey felt his own emotions boiling as he lifted Gerard's head up only to do one thing after hearing the previous statement; he slapped him in the face and said, “Don't you ever fucking say that! You don't know how much I love you. I even catch mom crying every now and then wishing she could find you.”
Leaning to the side, where the slap had led him, he stared at the floor with his fading tears dripping onto the floor, “I deserved that...” A few last sniffs came from him as he set up and slapped Mikey back, “Don't hit me, again.”
Rubbing his cheek, he wanted so bad to punch his lights out, but he knew deep down that Gerard was not himself at that moment, “Why'd you do that, Gerard? I didn't hit you that hard.” Tears tingled in his eyes and he scooted back as the ill feeling reappeared. “Where's a trash can?” He glanced around after Gerard pointed towards the door and there sat a small waste bin. “Okay.”
Gerard quickly stood up from the floor and commenced pacing the small apartment. All he could hear were the sounds coming from his little brother who had his face buried in a small trash can. Guilt washed over him. He didn't like that feeling because he guilt is the only feeling he has experienced since he ran into Mikey at the diner. Violently combing his fingers through his hair, he trembled beneath his own skin knowing that he hit Mikey a few moments ago. Mikey had finally quietened down, so Gerard reentered the room whilst gnawing on his thumb nail, “Are you okay?”
To him, Gerard sounded like a worried five year old, but he figured that it had to be the drugs. He nodded feeling ill again then shook his head as he reburied his face into the small trash can. Gerard debated on aiding him or stepping back into the other room; helping Mikey was the least he could do, especially after he hit him. Gradually, he walked over to him and knelt down, “Let it all out.” He heard whimpering sounds escaping the bin as he gently rubbed Mikey's back. “Shh...” His hand traveled up and down his back as the whimpering faded, along with the vomiting. “I'm sorry.”
Mikey lifted his head and leaned against the wall as he replied, “I hit you first.”
Examining the younger one's face, he could see a red mark and a bruise forming below his left eye, “I'm so sorry.” Tears once again formed in the addict's eyes.
“Hey, don't cry,” Mikey muttered placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. “Please. I caused you to do it because I slapped you first.”
“But the coke,” Gerard cried looming his head over his crossed legs.
“Shh... You don't have to say anything,” Mikey cooed rubbing his shoulder. He now knew that cocaine was a part of his older brother's life and everything then seemed more realistic. “Come here.” He rested himself on his knees and wrapped his arms around Gerard.
Without thinking, Gerard wrapped his own arms around him and kissed his cheek, “I'm sorry for hitting you. I'm turning into the old man.”
Silence hung over the room for what seemed like an eternity, even if it was only an hour. Mikey felt Gerard's muscles relax as he felt all of the addict's weight leaning on him. “Are you asleep?” He gently pulled him up from his shoulder and noticed he was still breathing. At first, he thought he had passed out, but now the only thought running through his mind that this was probably one of the few nights he was going to sleep knowing at least one person truly cared about him.
The morning light shown brilliantly through the windows in the apartment and landed on Gerard's eyes. He stretched and let out a lengthy yawn as he dangled his feet off of the couch. Glancing around, he tried to figure out how he got there as his eyes landed on the teen fast asleep in the floor below his feet. He felt another debate take part in his mind; should he wake up Mikey or let him sleep? He gently nudged the teen's back with his foot, “Mikes, wake up.” A groan escaped his lips as he rolled on top of Gerard's foot and seeing a violet-blue mark under Mikey's eye triggered some questions. “What happened last night?”
His eyes fluttered open and landed on the guy looming over his slowly awakening body, “Don't worry about it...” His arms stretched across the floor above his head as Gerard removed his foot from the teen's back. “Do I have to go home?”
“If you don't want either of us murdered, then yeah, you do,” he responded vaguely remembering the night before. “Did I do that?” he asked referring to the mark on Mikey's face.
“I fell and hit the waste bin when I got sick last night,” Mikey lied hoping Gerard would believe it.
He grew suspicious, but believed it, “That sucks.”
“Gerard, I don't want to go home,” Mikey grumbled crossing his arms over his chest.
“As bad as I hate to take you back, you're going,” Gerard stated in a firm yet regretful tone. “Maybe I should walk you to the door and let him explode on me and not you.”
Dark bangs draped over his upper face hiding what could be tearful eyes. He carefully wiped his locks from his view and he indeed had been covering his emotions, “Mikey, I'm sorry. I'm a terrible influence. I'm so afraid that dad will get angry at you for being out and it's all my fault.” He rubbed his nose in an upward motion and sniffled loudly.
Even in the dim light, Mikey could see residue outlining his nostrils and found it hard to rack his mind of something to say. Absentmindedly he scooted towards him and brought him into a hug, “Calm down. At least you're not doing drugs in front of me.”
“I did, while you were asleep on the couch,” he cried into Mikey's shoulder. He had yet to wrap his arms around him. The arms and shoulder disappeared as he gazed back up at his younger brother's concerned eyes. “I'm a fucking wreck. I can't do anything. I can't even get a fucking job if I had to because I cannot stay clean long enough.” His tears commenced pouring harder from his eyes as he leaned forward grasping Mikey's hands. “Kill me... I'm not worth saving.”
Mikey felt his own emotions boiling as he lifted Gerard's head up only to do one thing after hearing the previous statement; he slapped him in the face and said, “Don't you ever fucking say that! You don't know how much I love you. I even catch mom crying every now and then wishing she could find you.”
Leaning to the side, where the slap had led him, he stared at the floor with his fading tears dripping onto the floor, “I deserved that...” A few last sniffs came from him as he set up and slapped Mikey back, “Don't hit me, again.”
Rubbing his cheek, he wanted so bad to punch his lights out, but he knew deep down that Gerard was not himself at that moment, “Why'd you do that, Gerard? I didn't hit you that hard.” Tears tingled in his eyes and he scooted back as the ill feeling reappeared. “Where's a trash can?” He glanced around after Gerard pointed towards the door and there sat a small waste bin. “Okay.”
Gerard quickly stood up from the floor and commenced pacing the small apartment. All he could hear were the sounds coming from his little brother who had his face buried in a small trash can. Guilt washed over him. He didn't like that feeling because he guilt is the only feeling he has experienced since he ran into Mikey at the diner. Violently combing his fingers through his hair, he trembled beneath his own skin knowing that he hit Mikey a few moments ago. Mikey had finally quietened down, so Gerard reentered the room whilst gnawing on his thumb nail, “Are you okay?”
To him, Gerard sounded like a worried five year old, but he figured that it had to be the drugs. He nodded feeling ill again then shook his head as he reburied his face into the small trash can. Gerard debated on aiding him or stepping back into the other room; helping Mikey was the least he could do, especially after he hit him. Gradually, he walked over to him and knelt down, “Let it all out.” He heard whimpering sounds escaping the bin as he gently rubbed Mikey's back. “Shh...” His hand traveled up and down his back as the whimpering faded, along with the vomiting. “I'm sorry.”
Mikey lifted his head and leaned against the wall as he replied, “I hit you first.”
Examining the younger one's face, he could see a red mark and a bruise forming below his left eye, “I'm so sorry.” Tears once again formed in the addict's eyes.
“Hey, don't cry,” Mikey muttered placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. “Please. I caused you to do it because I slapped you first.”
“But the coke,” Gerard cried looming his head over his crossed legs.
“Shh... You don't have to say anything,” Mikey cooed rubbing his shoulder. He now knew that cocaine was a part of his older brother's life and everything then seemed more realistic. “Come here.” He rested himself on his knees and wrapped his arms around Gerard.
Without thinking, Gerard wrapped his own arms around him and kissed his cheek, “I'm sorry for hitting you. I'm turning into the old man.”
Silence hung over the room for what seemed like an eternity, even if it was only an hour. Mikey felt Gerard's muscles relax as he felt all of the addict's weight leaning on him. “Are you asleep?” He gently pulled him up from his shoulder and noticed he was still breathing. At first, he thought he had passed out, but now the only thought running through his mind that this was probably one of the few nights he was going to sleep knowing at least one person truly cared about him.
The morning light shown brilliantly through the windows in the apartment and landed on Gerard's eyes. He stretched and let out a lengthy yawn as he dangled his feet off of the couch. Glancing around, he tried to figure out how he got there as his eyes landed on the teen fast asleep in the floor below his feet. He felt another debate take part in his mind; should he wake up Mikey or let him sleep? He gently nudged the teen's back with his foot, “Mikes, wake up.” A groan escaped his lips as he rolled on top of Gerard's foot and seeing a violet-blue mark under Mikey's eye triggered some questions. “What happened last night?”
His eyes fluttered open and landed on the guy looming over his slowly awakening body, “Don't worry about it...” His arms stretched across the floor above his head as Gerard removed his foot from the teen's back. “Do I have to go home?”
“If you don't want either of us murdered, then yeah, you do,” he responded vaguely remembering the night before. “Did I do that?” he asked referring to the mark on Mikey's face.
“I fell and hit the waste bin when I got sick last night,” Mikey lied hoping Gerard would believe it.
He grew suspicious, but believed it, “That sucks.”
“Gerard, I don't want to go home,” Mikey grumbled crossing his arms over his chest.
“As bad as I hate to take you back, you're going,” Gerard stated in a firm yet regretful tone. “Maybe I should walk you to the door and let him explode on me and not you.”
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