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Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank and cried. Frank slowly returned the hug.

“Why…” Gerard managed to say between sobs.

“I…I don’t know, Gee,” Frank replied miserably. Gerard froze. Gee. No one had called him ‘Gee’ since-

“We should probably sit down,” Frank said quietly, pulling away from him. Gerard nodded, sniffling, and wiped his eyes with one hand. No black eyeliner came off on his skin. None of them wore makeup anymore.

Gerard suddenly realized he was sitting in a chair, an uncomfortable one at that. He didn’t feel like fighting it, though. He placed his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, allowing his fingers to push his hair back slightly. It immediately fell across them, never able to be controlled. It was growing out again. It hadn’t been like that for a long time.

“You must be Gerard.” He looked up at the sound of his name and smiled.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Bob,” said the man, shaking his hand. They talked for a while, and Gerard’s smile became plastered on his face. He was starting to like this guy already.

“I’ve already been talking to Mikey and Ray,” said Bob, suddenly becoming serious. “They told me you had a drinking problem.”

Gerard nodded.

“I did. But I’ve given up alcohol now.”

“Regardless, I want you to do something for me,” said Bob. “If I’m going to be in this band, you need to promise me you won’t drink.”

Gerard frowned slightly. This seemed strange, but he could understand.

“I promise,” he said in a singsong voice, giving a soft smile and feeling like a little kid. Bob smiled back.

Gerard began to cry again as the memories overtook him. He wanted to see that smile so much it hurt. But he knew he would never see it again.

“Gee?”

Gerard opened one sleepy eye, seeing a field of black before him. He half smiled, feeling the soft cloth of his sleeves brush against his face. He lifted his head and rested it on his folded arms, using them as a pillow. He saw Bob staring at him and almost laughed at the sideways image.

“Yeah?” he asked, letting his jaw stretch into a yawn as he spoke.

“You…you promised,” Bob hissed. Gerard just looked at him blankly.

“…Did we win?” he slurred. “The…award thing?”

“Yes!” Bob shouted angrily, slamming his fists on the table and startling Gerard. “We won Album of the Year. And you ruined it by getting wasted!”

Gerard felt laughter bubble up inside him, like a soda that had been shaken too much.

“I didn’t pinky swear!” he cried, launching into a laughing fit. Before he knew it, he had fallen off the sofa and was on the floor, laughing hysterically. He hiccuped a few times.

“I’m leaving,” Bob said curtly. He stormed out of the bus. Gerard managed to pull himself off the floor and leaned against the frame of the narrow doorway, still letting out a few spluttering laughs and hiccups.

“See ya later,” he slurred.

He felt a hand grip his shoulder, and slowly looked up. He realized he was staring into Ray’s face.

“You okay?” he asked softly. Gerard blinked a few times. He felt like he was looking at empty space, as if Ray wasn’t there, as if no one else was around him. His mind was almost completely blank, jumping back to old, lost memories so easily he wondered how his brain was managing it.

“Gee?”

“And he just left?” Mikey asked incredulously. Gerard nodded grimly. He had never felt so clueless. His memories were fuzzy and silent, like a muted movie that wasn’t focused.

“But he would never do that,” Ray responded in disbelief. “He just wouldn’t.”

“Guys, can we just talk about this later?” Frank asked, wrapping Gerard in a much-needed hug. “Maybe he just needed some time by himself.”

“But why?” Mikey almost shouted. Gerard winced at the sound. Bob had shouted, too. He was almost sure of it.

“We’ll just wait for a while until he comes back,” Frank assured them.

“What if he doesn’t?” Gerard whispered. He spoke so quietly that the others could hardly understand it. Frank, though, had heard perfectly.

“What?”

“It was my fault,” Gerard said in a voice just loud enough for his best friend to hear. “I…came back here and-” He suddenly broke into deep, stabbing sobs that stole air from his lungs, and shining tears cascaded down his face. He curled up into a ball, rocking back and forth slightly. “It was me!”

Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing at all. He never lifted his gaze from the ground; it almost seemed too heavy for him to handle. His feet began to shuffle forward of their own accord. He realized he was being led, like a small child. No, he was lower than that. A stray dog being led somewhere unknown, unable to find its own way. He was worse than any of it.

Gerard finally stopped walking. Slowly, very slowly, like a lost puppy facing its retribution, he slightly lifted his gaze from the floor, half expecting to meet a pair of shocking blue eyes.

Instead he was met with dark, cold, polished wood. And he broke into tears all over again.

He threw himself at the object, sobbing hysterically, telling them all how sorry he was, how he wished all of it was different-

“He’s never coming back,” Gerard said with absolute finality in his voice. Mikey shook his head.

“He’ll understand,” he assured his brother. “He knows we can’t last without him.”

“You don’t get it,” Gerard said miserably. He folded his arms on the table before him, creating a soft, black pillow for himself once again. It was all too familiar. “I promised him. I promised Bob I would never drink another sip of alcohol. I didn’t just break that promise, Mikey.” He paused to take several shuddering breaths. Mikey hated seeing his brother so completely lost and broken.

“I shattered it.”

And then they were pulling him away, his friends, the same people who had always helped him, protected him, saved him. But they were keeping him apart from another friend, and he wasn’t sure he could take it.

And he continued to scream as he was dragged out the door, wanting to know why the casket remained shut, why his blue-eyed friend would never see the light of day again, why he had ruined it all on his own, why no one had stopped him, why, why-

And his sobs began to slow and die down, as if he, too, was losing life. And slowly but surely, he drifted into an uncomfortable, unwanted, dreamless sleep.