Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Send In The Clowns
You guys are seriously blowing my mind with the responses. It makes me SO happy, you have no idea. Though more clearly, you can see how inspiring it is, as I have another chapter for you. A little fluff, and then a moment that I'm sure you've all been waiting for. By the way, as much as I love all the positive responses about Esmeralda, I can't take complete credit for that. IeroMyHeroMCR gave me the idea for a crazy person walking into Frank's room. Thanks Darlin XD Alright kiddies. OffWeGo! Back to Gee now, though I know you all loved Frank. Sometime in the near future we'll slither back into his brain, I promise.
Thank god we’re getting out of here, I think to myself, gripping the handles of Frank’s wheel chair tightly as I push him quickly out the automatic doors. Though he’d insisted he was fine, he had crumpled to the floor when he tried to walk on his own, and we’d been forced to get him a wheel chair, at least to take him out to the car. He looks very old, his face kind of sunken in, lacking the bright glow that I’d become accustomed to in the past couple weeks. It scares me.
Mikey yawns loudly, then smiles as me as he walks along beside us. He was cheery as always Mikey’s always had that way about him, being cheerful in every situation- the perpetual optimist, unlike me. He reminded me of a baby bird the way he yawned, and how his hair looked like he had stuck his finger in an electrical socket, something he’d had a habit of doing when he was younger, which nearly lead to his demise on more than one occasion.
We help Frank into the backseat of the car, and I instinctually climb into the driver’s seat, not at all surprised when Mikey opts to sit in the back with Frank. Frank looks comforted by this, and after a moment he rests his head on Mikey’s bony shoulder, then wrinkles his nose.
“What?”
“You smell bad. “
Mikey fakes an offended expression, gasping and putting his hands on the side of his face. Frank chuckles softly, and it’s reassuring to all of us, to see him laugh.
“Well I’m sorry if you don’t appreciate my natural masculine aroma!” Mikey retorts with a huff, crossing his arms, but grinning.
“Your natural masculine aroma is hospital cafeteria coffee and old people smell?” Frank giggles and I even chuckle to myself as I start up the car, watching the two of them fake fight in my rearview mirror.
“Well, I’m sorry if I needed my coffee and there happened to be lots of senior citizen residents who also needed it! Their smell rubs off! It’s like bananas!”
Frank arches an eyebrow over his tired eyes, though they have a lot more of their normal shimmer than they did yesterday. “Bananas?”
“Yeah!” Mikey says, like his analogy should make sense. “Oh come on! You know how bananas make everything else smell and taste like bananas when you put them near something? Like, if you put broccoli, cookies and goldfish crackers in a bag with a banana, they will ALL taste like a banana when you take them out. That’s how old people smell is. You stand in the same room with a bunch of old people and you’re gonna smell like old people!”
Frank is doubled over in laughter by the time that Mikey finishes his rant, which I know he did purely for Frank’s benefit. It seems to have worked. Frank’s pale cheeks are a little flushed from laughter when he sits up again, and he looks a little less ghost like.
Mikey sighs contentedly. “So boys, what’s on the agenda today? Horror movie marathon?” He waggles his eyebrows hopefully at Frank, who grins.
“I’m up for it if you are.” His eyes flash up to mine and meet in my mirror.
“How about you Gerard? What’re you doing today?”
I bite my lip as I think for a moment. There’s something I was supposed to do. What was it?
I’m still trying to remember when Mikey shouts out, “Starbucks!!!” and looks at me hopefully.
“Mikes, you already had…” and that’s when I finally remember my vow to see Mallory again, to take her out for coffee.
“That’s what I have to do.” I mumble to myself.
“What Gee?”
“Nothin’ Mikes. I’ll join you guys. I just got a couple things I have to do first.” I frown as I look at myself in the mirror. I look like shit. I ruffle my hair in a fruitless attempt to improve my appearance, but it doesn’t make a very significant difference.
I can tell Mikey wants to ask me what I’m going to do, but he learned a while ago not to ask me for specifics on things.
We’re kind of quiet for the rest of the car ride. Mikey and I are both watching Frank like hawks, waiting for any sign of him taking a turn for the worse. I can tell it’s making Frank uncomfortable, us staring at him, and he goes out of his way to seem normal, but I can tell he’s tired, and from the way he’s still shivering I can tell he’s still cold.
Meanwhile, my brain is moving way too fast for me to follow, thinking about Mallory, reliving the things she said to me. I can’t help but remember her expression when she took in my new haircut. She looked almost disappointed, like she found it predictable, even juvenile. Maybe she did. But what the hell did it matter? That was for me, myself and I. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I could feel myself blush as I realized what a lie that was. I WAS trying to impress her. Maybe not impress her as much as prove her wrong. I wanted to be able to say, you were wrong about me. But I couldn’t do that with simply a haircut.
“What’s wrong Gee?” Mikey looked at me inquisitively.
“Nothing, why?” I said, in my liar voice that he can always detect.
“Because you’re frowning, and you look like you want to hit something.”
I felt my blush go deeper. “I’m fine Mikes, don’t worry about it. “ I smiled encouragingly as we pulled into the parking lot.
It takes us twice as long as usual to get up to the room, because Frank insists on walking on his own. He’s capable of it this time, but he’s drained by the time we make it to the room, and he collapses onto the couch almost instantly, falling asleep within a couple of mere seconds. Mikey watches him worriedly, standing behind the couch and watching him sleep while I jump in the shower and throw on a change of clothes.
I walk out of the bathroom; towel drying my hair and Mikey is still standing in the same spot as he was before. I come up behind him, putting my hand on his shoulder and he jumps.
“Mikey, he’s gonna be okay,” I tell him.
Mikey sighs. “I know Gee. It just freaked me out. Frank’s always so…” he fumbles for a word and I answer, “Frank?”
He smiles in response. “Exactly. It was so scary for me, seeing him that way.”
I nod. “I know Mikey.” I pause, thinking for a moment. “Mikey, where did you even meet Frank? I never heard you talk about him or anything, and I’m positive the first time I met him was when he started living here.”
Mikey’s face turns beet red as he looks at his shoes. “It’s a long story Gee.”
I look at him through narrowed eyes. “I got time Mikey.”
“Nuh-uh. You said you had stuff to do.”
Dammit.
I sigh. “Fine. Later then, ok?”
“Alright,” Mikey replies dejectedly, not able to look me in the eye. I look at him suspiciously for another moment, before heading for the door, feeling extremely curious. There was clearly an amusing story there.
It took me getting into the car and coaxing it to life before I realized that I had no way of contacting Mallory. I had given her my number- she had never given me hers. I had placed the ball entirely in her court, and I by no means expected her return it. Angry with myself, I got out of the car, slamming the door so hard I was certain it was going to fall off its hinges, and trudged back toward the hotel.
I kicked the door open with my foot and grumbled choice things to myself as I headed for the elevator. I thrust my hands into my pockets, and that’s when my phone begins to vibrate.
I frown as I take it out, staring at the tiny number on the screen, not quite able to make it out with my rapidly deteriorating eyesight. I flip it open and answer it skeptically.
“Hello?”
There’s a soft cough on the other end of the phone, and a year long second of silence before the response.
“Hello Gerard.” That genteel blasé tone sends shivers down my spine.
I feel like a fish as I open and close my mouth repeatedly as I attempt, without success to come up with a reply to the simple greeting.
“Uhm…hi Mallory.” That’s all I can manage. Just hi. I am such a douche bag.
She laughs, a muted, soft sound. “You still up for that coffee?” She sounds hesitant, unsure of what my answer will be, though it’s obvious to me.
“Of course!” I say, sounding far too eager.
Mallory chuckles. “Is now ok? I’m out and about and it’s be easy to meet you now, if you’re up for it.” Again with the hesitation. Like she honestly thinks I’m going to say no.
“Yeah, yeah. “ I make a point not to sound so overly enthusiastic, like my whole life has been building up to this moment, though that’s how I feel at present.
Of course she sees right through me. I can hear it in her voice that my enthusiasm is throwing her off, making her uncomfortable.
“So…Starbucks maybe?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I love Starbucks. Starbucks is good.”
She exhales, sounding relieved. “Excellent. See you in a few?”
“Yep. See you.”
I try desperately not to hyperventilate as I rush back to the car, counting my breaths and focusing on breathing in and out as I drive toward Starbucks at a deliberately slow speed, trying to hit every single light and abiding by every stop sign, in an attempt to give myself more time to prepare. The honest to god truth is that I’m terrified. As I park the car and walk into the building, I wonder absently if this is how Frank felt when he had his panic attack.
She’s already inside of course, looking calm and controlled as she sits in a chair and looks around, eyes lingering for a little bit in certain places, while skipping completely over others. I’m about to take my final deep breath when her eyes lock onto me, and I freeze for a moment. I remind myself to walk, waving awkwardly as I sit down.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
Wow. This is terrible. I sort quickly through the half formed sentences in my brain, trying to find one that is even close to adequate.
“This is kinda awkward.”
Well at least she thinks so too.
“Yeah.” We both laugh, the forced abrupt. Neither of us really knows what to say.
“Look, I feel like I need to apologize again. What I did to you was vicious. Sometimes I forget that I’m doing that to real people, not just a case in a textbook. I forgot how it affects people to hear things like that.”
The one thing that I appreciate the most about her apology is that she does NOT apologize for being honest. She does not apologize for telling the truth.
“It’s okay. Seriously. It was...a wake up call. Some things you pointed out I probably wouldn’t have noticed in myself otherwise. Some things that need to be…changed. “ Subconsciously, I begin to play with my hair, and I notice an emotion flit across Mallory’s face.
“Your hair was fine how it was.” Her tone is strange- I get was she’s doing though. As if I don’t know it was a silly thing to do.
I feel the need to defend myself, even though I agree with her. “I just wanted a change. I’d been meaning to do something to my hair for a long time.”
“I see.” She nods, taking a slow sip of her coffee, which is black, and sets it back down on the table, turning the mug to what seems to be a very specific position.
She looks at me for a moment, the same way she did when she was “analyzing” me before, then says, “Why did you want to meet me here Gerard?”
“Come again?”
“Why did you want to see me again? I think most people would never want to see me again if I did to them what I did to you. So why did you want to see me?”
That’s the million dollar question right there. Why DID I want to see her again? I feel my teeth poking into my lower lip as I think, trying to come up with the real answer to that question. I felt she deserved the honesty. She was brutally honest with me. Why should I be any other way to her?
I knew she was waiting for an answer, so I shut my eyes and focused only on trying to think, shutting out all the other sounds and thoughts that I might have had. Time became inconsequential, so I can’t tell you how long it took me to figure it out. But after a certain period of time, the answer was just there, like I had known all along, which I probably had.
“Because you can read me. I’ve never been able to really say that I know myself. I just don’t get myself very well, and I don’t really think most other people understand me either. “ I take a deep breath. “But after listening to me talk for two minutes, you understood me completely. You can read me. You GET me. And I can’t let that go.”
Mallory looks me square in the face the entire time that I speak, her face completely void of any emotion or expression. Somehow, instead of making me uncomfortable, I find it encouraging. She’s not judging me. It encourages me.
“I have spent SO long hating myself, and not understanding myself enough to know why has been…difficult. I want to change. I want to not hate myself so much. And I just thought that maybe you would be able to help me do that.” My face is flushed by the time that I finish speaking, because despite her lack of reaction, I can’t help but feel stupid saying all this to a girl I met twice, for just a few minutes both times.
Mallory’s face is still blank, but I see so many emotions in her deep eyes, and they’re flashing wildly, like she can’t decide what she is feeling.
“Gerard, you are making me out to be way, way more than I am.”
“No. No I’m not!” I combat her violently.
She nods, averting her eyes. “All I did was say what I got from what you told me. I’m not some…interpreter. And I most certainly don’t know you better than you know yourself.”
I feel like she’s ripping my heart out of my chest as it pounds at a manic speed.
I take a deep breath, trying not to panic.
“I’m not asking you to be my fucking spirit guide or something. “
“I know.”
I exhale angrily. “Look, I just want to know you dammit. I’m in awe of what you did to me, and you seem incredible. And here’s the thing. I need HELP. I know I do. And I think you might be able to give me that. Please.” I sound pathetic, like I’m begging her. Embarrassed, I drop my head into my hands, rubbing my temples roughly. “I know this sounds ridiculous.” I tell her through my hands, my voice coming out mangled and muffled.
There’s another pause, and for a minute I think maybe she might have just gotten up and left. Then she sighs and I look up, because I know that her answer is coming. I brace myself for the obvious answer, expecting a you’re fucking crazy or maybe a possible restraining order.
“Alright.” One word. But that word might just turn my entire life around.
Well, what'd you think? Is Gerard completely blowing this out of proportion, like Mallory seems to think, or is this girl really what's been missing? Is she ever gonna talk about herself? Is there....ROMANCE in the air??? OOoohhhhh... keep up the awesome responses. I especially appreciate comments on content- I honestly do like to know what you're thinking. And believe it or not, I'm often influenced by what you guys say you want to see- for example, the crazy person. One of you said you wanted Mikey's POV and that will definitely be happening XD Speak your minds! I love you all!
Thank god we’re getting out of here, I think to myself, gripping the handles of Frank’s wheel chair tightly as I push him quickly out the automatic doors. Though he’d insisted he was fine, he had crumpled to the floor when he tried to walk on his own, and we’d been forced to get him a wheel chair, at least to take him out to the car. He looks very old, his face kind of sunken in, lacking the bright glow that I’d become accustomed to in the past couple weeks. It scares me.
Mikey yawns loudly, then smiles as me as he walks along beside us. He was cheery as always Mikey’s always had that way about him, being cheerful in every situation- the perpetual optimist, unlike me. He reminded me of a baby bird the way he yawned, and how his hair looked like he had stuck his finger in an electrical socket, something he’d had a habit of doing when he was younger, which nearly lead to his demise on more than one occasion.
We help Frank into the backseat of the car, and I instinctually climb into the driver’s seat, not at all surprised when Mikey opts to sit in the back with Frank. Frank looks comforted by this, and after a moment he rests his head on Mikey’s bony shoulder, then wrinkles his nose.
“What?”
“You smell bad. “
Mikey fakes an offended expression, gasping and putting his hands on the side of his face. Frank chuckles softly, and it’s reassuring to all of us, to see him laugh.
“Well I’m sorry if you don’t appreciate my natural masculine aroma!” Mikey retorts with a huff, crossing his arms, but grinning.
“Your natural masculine aroma is hospital cafeteria coffee and old people smell?” Frank giggles and I even chuckle to myself as I start up the car, watching the two of them fake fight in my rearview mirror.
“Well, I’m sorry if I needed my coffee and there happened to be lots of senior citizen residents who also needed it! Their smell rubs off! It’s like bananas!”
Frank arches an eyebrow over his tired eyes, though they have a lot more of their normal shimmer than they did yesterday. “Bananas?”
“Yeah!” Mikey says, like his analogy should make sense. “Oh come on! You know how bananas make everything else smell and taste like bananas when you put them near something? Like, if you put broccoli, cookies and goldfish crackers in a bag with a banana, they will ALL taste like a banana when you take them out. That’s how old people smell is. You stand in the same room with a bunch of old people and you’re gonna smell like old people!”
Frank is doubled over in laughter by the time that Mikey finishes his rant, which I know he did purely for Frank’s benefit. It seems to have worked. Frank’s pale cheeks are a little flushed from laughter when he sits up again, and he looks a little less ghost like.
Mikey sighs contentedly. “So boys, what’s on the agenda today? Horror movie marathon?” He waggles his eyebrows hopefully at Frank, who grins.
“I’m up for it if you are.” His eyes flash up to mine and meet in my mirror.
“How about you Gerard? What’re you doing today?”
I bite my lip as I think for a moment. There’s something I was supposed to do. What was it?
I’m still trying to remember when Mikey shouts out, “Starbucks!!!” and looks at me hopefully.
“Mikes, you already had…” and that’s when I finally remember my vow to see Mallory again, to take her out for coffee.
“That’s what I have to do.” I mumble to myself.
“What Gee?”
“Nothin’ Mikes. I’ll join you guys. I just got a couple things I have to do first.” I frown as I look at myself in the mirror. I look like shit. I ruffle my hair in a fruitless attempt to improve my appearance, but it doesn’t make a very significant difference.
I can tell Mikey wants to ask me what I’m going to do, but he learned a while ago not to ask me for specifics on things.
We’re kind of quiet for the rest of the car ride. Mikey and I are both watching Frank like hawks, waiting for any sign of him taking a turn for the worse. I can tell it’s making Frank uncomfortable, us staring at him, and he goes out of his way to seem normal, but I can tell he’s tired, and from the way he’s still shivering I can tell he’s still cold.
Meanwhile, my brain is moving way too fast for me to follow, thinking about Mallory, reliving the things she said to me. I can’t help but remember her expression when she took in my new haircut. She looked almost disappointed, like she found it predictable, even juvenile. Maybe she did. But what the hell did it matter? That was for me, myself and I. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I could feel myself blush as I realized what a lie that was. I WAS trying to impress her. Maybe not impress her as much as prove her wrong. I wanted to be able to say, you were wrong about me. But I couldn’t do that with simply a haircut.
“What’s wrong Gee?” Mikey looked at me inquisitively.
“Nothing, why?” I said, in my liar voice that he can always detect.
“Because you’re frowning, and you look like you want to hit something.”
I felt my blush go deeper. “I’m fine Mikes, don’t worry about it. “ I smiled encouragingly as we pulled into the parking lot.
It takes us twice as long as usual to get up to the room, because Frank insists on walking on his own. He’s capable of it this time, but he’s drained by the time we make it to the room, and he collapses onto the couch almost instantly, falling asleep within a couple of mere seconds. Mikey watches him worriedly, standing behind the couch and watching him sleep while I jump in the shower and throw on a change of clothes.
I walk out of the bathroom; towel drying my hair and Mikey is still standing in the same spot as he was before. I come up behind him, putting my hand on his shoulder and he jumps.
“Mikey, he’s gonna be okay,” I tell him.
Mikey sighs. “I know Gee. It just freaked me out. Frank’s always so…” he fumbles for a word and I answer, “Frank?”
He smiles in response. “Exactly. It was so scary for me, seeing him that way.”
I nod. “I know Mikey.” I pause, thinking for a moment. “Mikey, where did you even meet Frank? I never heard you talk about him or anything, and I’m positive the first time I met him was when he started living here.”
Mikey’s face turns beet red as he looks at his shoes. “It’s a long story Gee.”
I look at him through narrowed eyes. “I got time Mikey.”
“Nuh-uh. You said you had stuff to do.”
Dammit.
I sigh. “Fine. Later then, ok?”
“Alright,” Mikey replies dejectedly, not able to look me in the eye. I look at him suspiciously for another moment, before heading for the door, feeling extremely curious. There was clearly an amusing story there.
It took me getting into the car and coaxing it to life before I realized that I had no way of contacting Mallory. I had given her my number- she had never given me hers. I had placed the ball entirely in her court, and I by no means expected her return it. Angry with myself, I got out of the car, slamming the door so hard I was certain it was going to fall off its hinges, and trudged back toward the hotel.
I kicked the door open with my foot and grumbled choice things to myself as I headed for the elevator. I thrust my hands into my pockets, and that’s when my phone begins to vibrate.
I frown as I take it out, staring at the tiny number on the screen, not quite able to make it out with my rapidly deteriorating eyesight. I flip it open and answer it skeptically.
“Hello?”
There’s a soft cough on the other end of the phone, and a year long second of silence before the response.
“Hello Gerard.” That genteel blasé tone sends shivers down my spine.
I feel like a fish as I open and close my mouth repeatedly as I attempt, without success to come up with a reply to the simple greeting.
“Uhm…hi Mallory.” That’s all I can manage. Just hi. I am such a douche bag.
She laughs, a muted, soft sound. “You still up for that coffee?” She sounds hesitant, unsure of what my answer will be, though it’s obvious to me.
“Of course!” I say, sounding far too eager.
Mallory chuckles. “Is now ok? I’m out and about and it’s be easy to meet you now, if you’re up for it.” Again with the hesitation. Like she honestly thinks I’m going to say no.
“Yeah, yeah. “ I make a point not to sound so overly enthusiastic, like my whole life has been building up to this moment, though that’s how I feel at present.
Of course she sees right through me. I can hear it in her voice that my enthusiasm is throwing her off, making her uncomfortable.
“So…Starbucks maybe?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I love Starbucks. Starbucks is good.”
She exhales, sounding relieved. “Excellent. See you in a few?”
“Yep. See you.”
I try desperately not to hyperventilate as I rush back to the car, counting my breaths and focusing on breathing in and out as I drive toward Starbucks at a deliberately slow speed, trying to hit every single light and abiding by every stop sign, in an attempt to give myself more time to prepare. The honest to god truth is that I’m terrified. As I park the car and walk into the building, I wonder absently if this is how Frank felt when he had his panic attack.
She’s already inside of course, looking calm and controlled as she sits in a chair and looks around, eyes lingering for a little bit in certain places, while skipping completely over others. I’m about to take my final deep breath when her eyes lock onto me, and I freeze for a moment. I remind myself to walk, waving awkwardly as I sit down.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
Wow. This is terrible. I sort quickly through the half formed sentences in my brain, trying to find one that is even close to adequate.
“This is kinda awkward.”
Well at least she thinks so too.
“Yeah.” We both laugh, the forced abrupt. Neither of us really knows what to say.
“Look, I feel like I need to apologize again. What I did to you was vicious. Sometimes I forget that I’m doing that to real people, not just a case in a textbook. I forgot how it affects people to hear things like that.”
The one thing that I appreciate the most about her apology is that she does NOT apologize for being honest. She does not apologize for telling the truth.
“It’s okay. Seriously. It was...a wake up call. Some things you pointed out I probably wouldn’t have noticed in myself otherwise. Some things that need to be…changed. “ Subconsciously, I begin to play with my hair, and I notice an emotion flit across Mallory’s face.
“Your hair was fine how it was.” Her tone is strange- I get was she’s doing though. As if I don’t know it was a silly thing to do.
I feel the need to defend myself, even though I agree with her. “I just wanted a change. I’d been meaning to do something to my hair for a long time.”
“I see.” She nods, taking a slow sip of her coffee, which is black, and sets it back down on the table, turning the mug to what seems to be a very specific position.
She looks at me for a moment, the same way she did when she was “analyzing” me before, then says, “Why did you want to meet me here Gerard?”
“Come again?”
“Why did you want to see me again? I think most people would never want to see me again if I did to them what I did to you. So why did you want to see me?”
That’s the million dollar question right there. Why DID I want to see her again? I feel my teeth poking into my lower lip as I think, trying to come up with the real answer to that question. I felt she deserved the honesty. She was brutally honest with me. Why should I be any other way to her?
I knew she was waiting for an answer, so I shut my eyes and focused only on trying to think, shutting out all the other sounds and thoughts that I might have had. Time became inconsequential, so I can’t tell you how long it took me to figure it out. But after a certain period of time, the answer was just there, like I had known all along, which I probably had.
“Because you can read me. I’ve never been able to really say that I know myself. I just don’t get myself very well, and I don’t really think most other people understand me either. “ I take a deep breath. “But after listening to me talk for two minutes, you understood me completely. You can read me. You GET me. And I can’t let that go.”
Mallory looks me square in the face the entire time that I speak, her face completely void of any emotion or expression. Somehow, instead of making me uncomfortable, I find it encouraging. She’s not judging me. It encourages me.
“I have spent SO long hating myself, and not understanding myself enough to know why has been…difficult. I want to change. I want to not hate myself so much. And I just thought that maybe you would be able to help me do that.” My face is flushed by the time that I finish speaking, because despite her lack of reaction, I can’t help but feel stupid saying all this to a girl I met twice, for just a few minutes both times.
Mallory’s face is still blank, but I see so many emotions in her deep eyes, and they’re flashing wildly, like she can’t decide what she is feeling.
“Gerard, you are making me out to be way, way more than I am.”
“No. No I’m not!” I combat her violently.
She nods, averting her eyes. “All I did was say what I got from what you told me. I’m not some…interpreter. And I most certainly don’t know you better than you know yourself.”
I feel like she’s ripping my heart out of my chest as it pounds at a manic speed.
I take a deep breath, trying not to panic.
“I’m not asking you to be my fucking spirit guide or something. “
“I know.”
I exhale angrily. “Look, I just want to know you dammit. I’m in awe of what you did to me, and you seem incredible. And here’s the thing. I need HELP. I know I do. And I think you might be able to give me that. Please.” I sound pathetic, like I’m begging her. Embarrassed, I drop my head into my hands, rubbing my temples roughly. “I know this sounds ridiculous.” I tell her through my hands, my voice coming out mangled and muffled.
There’s another pause, and for a minute I think maybe she might have just gotten up and left. Then she sighs and I look up, because I know that her answer is coming. I brace myself for the obvious answer, expecting a you’re fucking crazy or maybe a possible restraining order.
“Alright.” One word. But that word might just turn my entire life around.
Well, what'd you think? Is Gerard completely blowing this out of proportion, like Mallory seems to think, or is this girl really what's been missing? Is she ever gonna talk about herself? Is there....ROMANCE in the air??? OOoohhhhh... keep up the awesome responses. I especially appreciate comments on content- I honestly do like to know what you're thinking. And believe it or not, I'm often influenced by what you guys say you want to see- for example, the crazy person. One of you said you wanted Mikey's POV and that will definitely be happening XD Speak your minds! I love you all!
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