FicWad

Chapter 15.

The luminiscent glow from my cigarette lit up the dark room around me as I sucked the life out of the end. I hate smoking, yet, couldn't seem to get enough of the thick substance through my veins.
My hotel room reminded me very much of a Johnny Cash song; what with all the empty vodka bottles and clothing strewn everywhere, with my faithful guitar perched in the corner.

I sat in my boxers, feeling my toes twitch against the air while I sucked on my almost blunted cigarette. My present situation was sickeningly like the song: Cecila, by Simon and Garfunkle. It's pretty much amazing how every moment in my life at that time, had some random song by some artist I never listend to, that just happen to fit perfectly in my life.

I stubbed out my cigarette and hit the pack against my palm, letting another little white stick slide in between my fingers. I felt my eyes dialate as the flame flickered and died once it hit the end of my cigarette.
The door creaked open slightly and I apatheticly turned my head towards it, to see Mikey creaping in, all decked out in his pjs and his anthrax t-shirt while his sock covered feel padded across the hardwood floor at the entrance.

"What?" I asked harshly, still watching the glow of my cigarette, hanging off my fingers; ashes dripping onto the floor in a pile beside me.
Mike closed the door and slowly creaped towards me, fumbling through the dark for the light. Little did he know, said light was in a broken mess on the floor beneath my nightstand.
"It's broken, just leave it." I said, referring to the lamp in the floor.

Mikey cleared his throat, which was obviously hoarse and dry, begging him to keep his vocal cords closed.
"I-I-I" He stammered, poor guy, I was making his skin crawl, not that I could really blame him. "I just wanted to see if you were ok, I saw Lilana run out of here really upset and....dishoveld...?" He ended that very not-question-like question in a very question-like manor. It made me sick, and even more pissed, even though in all my hatred, I still felt sorry for him having to deal with me.

I felt heat on my left side, and the sound of Mikey's feet against the floor. "Frank, talk to me man."
"Fuck off Mikey." I tried to sound mean, but my heartache was starting to kick in, making it impossible for me to sound anything except pathetic.

Mikey clicked his tongue and hit me on the arm, "Don't dodge me Frank, fucking talk to me."
I felt hot tears forming in my tear ducts, which I was fighthing so hard, in vain might I add, to fight back.
I sighed deeply and took another toxic drag, "I don't know what's happening to me, Mikey. Tell me what's happening to me."

The room fell silent for a spell, way too long a spell for my taste. Mikey was always more understanding than Gerard, he knew when to force himself and when to back off; Gerard, just shoved and shoved untill you wanted to do nothing else than punch his pretty little face in.
"Do you love Jamia, Frank?" That small little question was pretty much a punch to my stomach, way moreso than Mikey could ever give me with his own fist.
"What?" I knew what he meant, and I knew I would eventually have to face this question; but, I was just avoiding this shit as long as I could. Something told me our little ring-around-the-rosy game, wouldn't be lasting much longer.

He remained silent, knowing my question meant absolutely nothing, it was shit, all of it. I had to shut the fuck up and deal with this situation like a man. Even though, that little Italian boy in me, wanted some of his ma's eggplant parmesian and a nice bath, before settling down in his batman pj long-johns. Shitfuck.

"You're not a kid anymore Frank." I could hear the smile in Mikey's voice as he read my thoughts; but the whole situation was so surreal, even this was no surpise, my thoughts seemed to have been extremely external lately.
"I feel like an asshole, Mikey."

Mikey snorted, "You are an asshole Iero!" we both chuckled gruffly against the darkness, sniffling and coughing afterwards like a couple of old men.
"Thanks for being there Mikey, I know I'm a dick to you alot; but just, well...thanks." I was almost embarrased telling my best friend I appreciated him. Of course I noted the wrong in that, but my mind was too fuzzy at that point to really put much thought into it.

"It's ok Frank, we all get fucked up sometimes, you're no exception." His words sounded sincere and strangely comforting. Mikey always has been the self proclaimed therepist of the group. No matter how fucked the rest of us are, he's always the one the clean the vomit off the floor in the morning.

"I wanted to tell you, Frank."
I rolled my eyes and groaned inwardly as I lit another cigarette.
"I mean, I feel really bad, and now, you're pissed at Gerard and the rest of us are stuck in the middle of some soap opera love triangle." He sounded afraid and unsure of my reaction, like I would jump him any second.

But, Instead, I sighed and took another drag from my cigarette, "It's ok Mikey, I guess it's Bob I should be mad at, not that that would do any good."
Mikey coughed out a stiffled laugh, "I suppose being so mad you want to kill someone, gets it's purpose defeated when that someone is dead already."

I scoffed, "Yeah, I guess. But Mikey, I can't be mad at him. He was my best friend and this whole week has been hell without him. I'm dying in my greif."

Mikey put a comforting arm around my shoulder and shook it lightly, "We all do Frank."

We heard the door open and the sound of soft footsteps on the hardwood, "Frank?" Gerard's voice.

Mikey pulled his arm away and whispered into my ear, "Want me to stay?"
I nodded my head, "No, this is between me and him. Thanks Mikey."

Mikey made his way to the door and gave Gerard a "good luck" glance before exiting the room.
Gerard awkwardly made his way over to me and sat down in front of my feet, keeping his head down and eyes averted from mine.

"I'm sorry Frank." It was one of those apologies you see in movies when a woman has cheated on her husband. It made me sick to my stomach and the soft carpet beneath me shifted slight as I straightend my back against the foot of the bed.
Gerard continued, "I just, I don't know, I saw how happy you and Jamia were and I didn't want to fuck anything up. Plus, I didn't want you beating the shit out of Bob and you guys never speaking to each other again."
"So you did it for the band?" I asked, disgust in my tone and tongue firmly in cheek.
"No, well, yes, but not only because of the band. I didn't want you getting hurt."

"Whatever Gerard." I wasn't letting this go so easily, he was just going to have to suffer longer, I needed to be mad at him. I needed to fuck Lilana, and I needed to drive Jamia crazy. I had them all in the palm of my hand, at the mercy of my new found insanity.
"Frank, listen." His voice sounded pathetic and desperate, what a pathetic little shit.

"No Gerard! You listen!" I jumped from my seat and switched on the light above me. I hovered over a cowering Gerard, tears staining his pale cheeks and his fingers digging into the carpet beside him.
"You're shit Gerard!! Complete shit!!"

Tears began to pour cheeks, and in my moment of cruel cruelty, I laughed at this vulnerable, pathetic site before me.
I paced the room nervously and sucked the living shit out of my cigarette, while listening to the quiet sobs of Gerard, who was now huddled in the corner.

"Say something you stupid fuck!" My voice was calm and collective, something I knew was driving him crazy.

Gerard, not bothering to wipe his face, looked up at me, lip quivering, "wha-what-what do you want me to ss--a-ay."
I laughed again, maybe even more insanity leaking through my vocal cords, I wasn't sure. "Say you hate me."
Wait, what?

"Huh?" He was confused, not that I can't say I wasn't confused as fuck myself, I was; but his confusion was rather pathetic to me, even though I was in the same boat.
"You heard me, and make sure you say it with feeling." I turned to face him, confusion written all over his face and fear in his eyes.
"Frank, I." I was getting fed up with him at that point.

"Fucking say it!!!!!!! Say it!!!"
"Ok! I fucking hate your goddamn guts Frank Anthony Iero!!" Gerard was sweating and crying and pretty much drooling all over the place, but his pathetic face turned to rage for some strange reason.
"Ok." Ok?? That's all I had to say? What the hell Iero.

Gerard struggled to his feet and stumbled towards me, bracing himself against the bathroom door. "What..the fuck...is wrong with you?" His breathing took a minute to study and when it did, he gulped, making the saliva audible enough for me to hear.

I ran a hand through my hair and let my palm slide down my face, pulling the bottoms of my eyes down, "I have no idea."

Ok, so, I realize I am making Frank into a complete PHYSCO! HELLO!! But, it's all in my plan, so just bare with me.
I actually kinda like this one, maybe I'm getting my groove back, eh?
This chapter is dedicated to the Wizard of Oz soundtrack, it's what I was listening to while writing this chapter. Odd? very.
Oh well. Anyhoo, rate and what not.