FicWad

"Good morning, New York City!" The clock-radio greeted as I rose out of a seven hour coma. It was too early. Then again, it was always too early. This was how everyday began; rising my head buried deep in the purple, cotton pillow sham, realizing I wasn't living in the castle in my dreams and waking up stark nude next to the man of my dreams. The man I loved.

This was very much routine, yet, so pleasing. You see, long after I realized that I was still in our small, cramped apartment in Queens Village, in that same sinking queen mattress we moved in with; I turned my head to see the smile that makes this routine so worth it. His jet black hair spilled all over his pillow in a wild frenzy. Those green eyes globes peering up at me as if I made his morning. Not long after, that same smile is plastered on the front of my face; but could I really help it?

His name is Gerard. Gerard Way. We met in college, NYU. It was the Spring of Freshmen Year. He was Criminal Justice, I was Accounting. Not much of a match if you're comparing the majors. But as far as everything else, we were perfect for each other.

We met at a party. Cliche, I know, but we really did. It was his friend Ray's party. Ray was a film student who had his very own apartment while we still lived in our dorms. I knew Ray from a couple distant friends. Funny thing about it was, I wasn't going to go, considering I didn't even know the kid! If it wasn't for my roommate, Stella, I wouldn't have gone.

"Please, Mia! Please go?" Stella begged and pleaded until her little Russian accent couldn't push anymore. She complained that I was too much of a hermit, that I never wanted to have fun, that I never wanted to party. Though, that wasn't true. I just didn't feel like being bothered. Although Stella didn't listen much, I hated feeling like I was always the catalyst of us not-having-fun. So I decided to suit up, and go. Stella was so pleased she let me borrow an outfit. Precisely, a very expensive, but simple black dress.

"Win-win." She stammered. "That's what they say here in the States, right?" I couldn't help but laugh. She was the most adorable thing known to man!

A while after getting to the party, which really wasn't a party after all. It was more like a cool gathering of film geeks, horror movie addicts and smart people. I was liking this. But that didn't help the fact that Stella had gone off to talk with some kid that knew Russian and English (he must have lent her his tongue) and I hadn't known anyone there.

I was sat comfortably on Ray's leather love seat, with a can of soda in my hand casually. I was intrigued by a foreign horror movie that had been playing on the television sat in the center of the living room. So intrigued in the music building up to the climactic scene where the leading character finds out who's been causing the horror and how. So intrigued, I didn't even notice the solid presence that had been sitting next to me for a good two minutes. And then it spoke, right when the music comes up to a loud shrill and the main character is in danger. The startling suspense ascended me about three good inches off the couch and the coke went all over Stella's expensive, but simple black dress.

I wanted so badly to cry. I had embarrassed myself beyond redemption. Not to mention, I practically ruined a dress that I couldn't afford to replace. I was past the point of redemption, when I noticed the hazel orbs beaming at me with napkins wadded in his hands. As I sat in the same petrified position, the movie went forward.

"I am so sorry! Here you go." He frowned, handing me the wad of napkins. Still, I hadn't gotten a good look at his face. I grabbed the napkins in a huff and began to quickly wipe away at the spots where it spilled. I sighed, defeated.

"No, no. I..." I scoffed trying to get the right words out of my trembling lips. "I shouldn't even be here." I giggled in a monotonic tune.

"And why do you say that?" And then it happened--I looked! And--my, oh my--did I like what I saw! My soul left my body as I peered at those gorgeous hazel beams of his. Naturally, my eyes traveled up into his raven locks and instantly, I wanted to have my fingers laced within them. And his lips! Oh, I wanted to touch them! In so many different ways, with so many different things! Then, I realized I hadn't sounded like myself. Only to realize I hadn't responded. Fuck!

"I wasn't even directly invited. I just know Ray from a few friends who aren't even here." And then he smirked. I lost it! My body froze and a jolt of heat went right through it. What was happening to me? There was only one thing I knew how to do, and do it well--run! "I should be going. I gotta go find my roommate." I let out in a breath. Before I could get up, his eyes darted to the hall. In that hall was a closed bedroom door.

"You sure you wanna do that?" He laughed slightly. Smirk still in full effect. I was beyond dazed. Again, I couldn't let out a response. This wasn't like me, at all! I was smart, witty and quick! I liked sports! This was no time to be a deer caught in the headlights of a car with a hot driver!

"I guess not..." I trailed off, tearing my eyes slowly away from his. If you could imagine, it was like ripping off a band-aid. Moving my head toward the television, only to see the credits rolling up.

"So, I take it you enjoyed the movie?" He gave a nervous laugh. He wasn't as coy as I thought he may have been. It was time to pull myself together, get casual.

"I did. I love scary movies." I did the unthinkable and moved me eyes toward his. Getting lost in them before he could notice, waiting for his response.

"Me too. More than most, some might say. Argento's the best!" He had me beat by a thousand. Who was Argento?

"Oh, did he make this movie?" Bad move, on my part. It sounded good until I actually said it, and realized how stupid I sounded.

"Yeah." He answered simply, not a hint of judgment in his voice. "He has some really good ones, but this one's my favorite." I nodded thoughtfully. I didn't even know the name of the movie! Luckily, the case was left out on the coffee table that sat in front of the sofa.

"Suspiria." I spoke with confidence. "I liked the dark aesthetic of it. So fitting with the atmosphere but very symbolic with ballet." I expected him to respond. I wanted him to respond, but nothing came out. He kinda held his lips apart and nodded. Looking deeper into my eyes. He had an entranced gaze in his eyes, much like the one I had when I first got a good glimpse of his face. I smiled and cocked my head slightly to the left. "I'm Mia, by the way." Gesturing my hand out to him to shake. He was still in that daze after ten seconds of realizing I was introducing myself.

"Oh...Sorry, I'm Gerard. But you can call me Gee. Everyone calls me Gee." He laughed and took my hand softly in his. His soft palms and long fingers fit into the shape of my smaller hands and began to greet one another.

"Do you go to NYU?" He nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, I live not too far from here though. I know Ray from some friends back home." He finished taking his hand back. "Firm handshake you got there!" He laughed. It was more of a cheerful cackle but all I could do was smile.

"I'm so sorry." I laughed nervously. "So what's your major?"

"Criminal Justice. But...I don't know if it's right for me. I was thinking about transferring and then switching my major..." He trailed off looking down to the table and then back at me again. He was so open. This kid had not-a-thing to hide and he had confidence. "So what's your major?"

"Accounting, actually."

"Do you enjoy it?" I couldn't say yes, I couldn't say no. I had to be honest with that answer.

"It's okay. It's all numbers and I'm good at math so, it works out." I nodded.

"I hate math." Outwardly, he spoke in a monotonic tone. I couldn't bare to keep a straight face as his grief-stricken face conveyed how much he despised math. I let myself go and giggled lightly. He smiled again, and all I could remember is the light of his smile, and how I wanted to get to know so much more about him.

He was from New Jersey. Apparently, both him and Ray grew up in counties not too far apart. He had a brother, Mikey, both of his parents were still alive and together. He loved comics, Watchmen being one of his favorite graphic novels. He loved music just as much as he loved movies and he was also an artists. I was falling in love with my other half. As corny as it sounded, that's how it all went.

After that party, we started to meet for lunch and go on dates, and such. We got to know more about each other as the days, weeks and months went on. He was my first long-term relationship. And I was his...well...not first. But I was okay with that, because I was his present, regardless of his past. He had met my family, who had taken so well to him, and I met his family who adored me.

A year had passed and we were still very much together and very much in love, when he told me that he was transferring to an art school. Although it saddened me that wouldn't be able to see him on a daily basis, I was happy he was chasing his own dream. Plus, the art school wasn't at all far from my dorm hall. And he would visit faithfully.

Two years had passed, we both graduated out of our rightful colleges with our respective Degrees and decided to move-in together. Only to find out that maintaining an apartment in New York City, with absolutely no income, was harder than it looked. But that didn't matter, because we were in love, we had each other. So deep, we were smothered by it. So thick it was hard to miss. We took an oath to each other that if we did get rich (by some miraculous landfall), that nothing would change. We also didn't want to turn on each other from the stress of financial issues.

He took a job as a Bank Teller in downtown Manhattan. I worked at a Salon in Queens that Stella owned. That's right, my Russian roommie Stella. We remained friends after she froze me out for spilling Cola on her $300 dress. But in due time, I was forgiven.


With my head freshly withdrawn from the pillow under me. Puffy eyes and confused demeanor, I looked around our bedroom. It wasn't that castle in my dreams. Shit, it didn't have to be. If being dirt-broke meant being happy, then I was in it for the long-run. But I wasn't alone.

"Good morning." His pouted lips and smirk greeted me like the sun greeted the clouds. This was better than any dream. This was our life.