Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
#14) You Can't Save Me
1 review(R For Language...Very short until 15 comes up.) Frankie makes a bad dicision...and it might be the last thing he ever does.
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Frankie looked and felt like shit. It was almost like he’d gone back in time to when this all started…with the pills and everything that is. He glanced at himself in the dirty hotel mirror, staring himself down through the grime, dirt, old eyeliner and eye shadow…
You look like shit, Frankie boy… He told himself. He just nodded and shuddered. He knew it. He didn’t need anyone else’s opinion. He was fine with it anyway. Because tonight was the night. The night…
Frankie’s last night on this god forsaken, fucked up world.
*
Gerard was startled awake by a ringing on his cell phone. The ringer was set to blare ‘Rooster’ by Metallica. It was the ringer that went off when someone unknown called, everyone in his phone had their own ringer. So who was calling? He reached for the phone and squinted at the screen. He couldn’t make out the caller ID so he pushed the talk button and raised it to his ear.
At first he thought it was Mikey and Ray in the next room toying with him. But then the silence turned into breathing and the breathing turned into labored gasping. The gasping led to tears. He was worried now.
“Hello?” No answer. “Hello?” Still just heavy breathing. “Hey, who is this? Are you okay? Hello?”
“G-g-g-gee…” He identified the voice with the first attempted ‘juh’ noise.
“Oh my God…Frankie?” Gerard almost shouted, instantly lowering his voice as not to alarm the others. “Frankie? Frankie are you okay? What’s going on? Frankie!?”
There was a cough, that sounded wet, as if his mouth were full of water…or… “I-I-I…I-fucked…fu-ucked up-up…” Gerard went silent. Oh…fucking…no. “I-I…I-I-I miss-ssed.”
“What? What do you mean you missed Frankie?” Gerard couldn’t keep his trembling voice down any longer. He wasn’t screaming, but he was damn near it. “Frankie!”
“I-there-there…wa-was…there was th-this gun…” Gerard’s heart fell to his feet and rolled across the floor. He felt the blood drain from his entire body. “An-and…I…I shot…”
“Frankie.” But he was still talking, rambling, coughing, stammering. “Frankie, just tell me where you are, okay hunnie? Where are you?”
“Y-you kn-know…” He coughed again, which turned into a fit. He heard the sounds of someone vomiting.
“No, no I don’t Frankie.” He coughed again. Gerard stood up, throwing on his leather jacket, slipping his feet into some old black sandals. He didn’t bother with pants, didn’t have the time, didn’t care…just wanted to go and get Frankie…his Frankie. Check on him…
“Th-that hotel…w-w-where we use-used to go…” Frankie’s voice was fading, and quickly. Gerard knew exactly where he was now. Before the band had ever really made it, Frankie and him…they had a relationship. A great one…but they kept it secret. The guys would have freaked if they would’ve found out. The band might have broke up and then where would they have been now, to this very day?
He hurried towards the door, keeping Frankie on the phone, telling him not to talk but just breathe so he could still be sure he was alive and so he wouldn’t stress himself to much. He took the stairs two at a time, ignoring his brother’s voice when he called to him from the hallway. He grabbed his keys off the hook by the door and ran to the car, sliding in and starting it, balancing his phone on his shoulder and flicking the headlights on with his free hand.
“Frankie, I’m coming, okay? I’m coming and I’ll be there in a little bit, okay? I’m coming…” He kept reassuring Frankie, afraid to hand up and call 911 for the fear that if he lost contact with him, he’d die. And what if he called back and he didn’t answer? No, he had to get there first…had to see for himself. Needed to see…needed…
*
Frankie didn’t have any feeling at all, anywhere. There was no feeling in his toes, his feet, his legs…hell he didn’t even know if he had any legs. He knew damn sure that he had a head though, or at least half of one now. The pain that kept shooting through his neck and face was enough to keep him up, awake. The only other thing keeping him up was Gerard’s voice. He didn’t remember how he managed to call Gee, or how he managed to keep breathing for that matter. But Gee was on the way and he would be saved. Hopefully.
He whimpered in pain as another jolt of it wracked through him, his leg actually twitching. Gerard’s voice rose and octave at it and hurriedly told him that he was getting closer and was almost there. Gee forced a laugh when he mentioned something about, “Thank God there are no cops around at 3 in the morning”.
Please get here Gerard… He talked to Gee mentally. Even though I know you can‘t save me…
Frankie closed his eyes as more pain seethed through him. He only meant to close them for a second.
You look like shit, Frankie boy… He told himself. He just nodded and shuddered. He knew it. He didn’t need anyone else’s opinion. He was fine with it anyway. Because tonight was the night. The night…
Frankie’s last night on this god forsaken, fucked up world.
*
Gerard was startled awake by a ringing on his cell phone. The ringer was set to blare ‘Rooster’ by Metallica. It was the ringer that went off when someone unknown called, everyone in his phone had their own ringer. So who was calling? He reached for the phone and squinted at the screen. He couldn’t make out the caller ID so he pushed the talk button and raised it to his ear.
At first he thought it was Mikey and Ray in the next room toying with him. But then the silence turned into breathing and the breathing turned into labored gasping. The gasping led to tears. He was worried now.
“Hello?” No answer. “Hello?” Still just heavy breathing. “Hey, who is this? Are you okay? Hello?”
“G-g-g-gee…” He identified the voice with the first attempted ‘juh’ noise.
“Oh my God…Frankie?” Gerard almost shouted, instantly lowering his voice as not to alarm the others. “Frankie? Frankie are you okay? What’s going on? Frankie!?”
There was a cough, that sounded wet, as if his mouth were full of water…or… “I-I-I…I-fucked…fu-ucked up-up…” Gerard went silent. Oh…fucking…no. “I-I…I-I-I miss-ssed.”
“What? What do you mean you missed Frankie?” Gerard couldn’t keep his trembling voice down any longer. He wasn’t screaming, but he was damn near it. “Frankie!”
“I-there-there…wa-was…there was th-this gun…” Gerard’s heart fell to his feet and rolled across the floor. He felt the blood drain from his entire body. “An-and…I…I shot…”
“Frankie.” But he was still talking, rambling, coughing, stammering. “Frankie, just tell me where you are, okay hunnie? Where are you?”
“Y-you kn-know…” He coughed again, which turned into a fit. He heard the sounds of someone vomiting.
“No, no I don’t Frankie.” He coughed again. Gerard stood up, throwing on his leather jacket, slipping his feet into some old black sandals. He didn’t bother with pants, didn’t have the time, didn’t care…just wanted to go and get Frankie…his Frankie. Check on him…
“Th-that hotel…w-w-where we use-used to go…” Frankie’s voice was fading, and quickly. Gerard knew exactly where he was now. Before the band had ever really made it, Frankie and him…they had a relationship. A great one…but they kept it secret. The guys would have freaked if they would’ve found out. The band might have broke up and then where would they have been now, to this very day?
He hurried towards the door, keeping Frankie on the phone, telling him not to talk but just breathe so he could still be sure he was alive and so he wouldn’t stress himself to much. He took the stairs two at a time, ignoring his brother’s voice when he called to him from the hallway. He grabbed his keys off the hook by the door and ran to the car, sliding in and starting it, balancing his phone on his shoulder and flicking the headlights on with his free hand.
“Frankie, I’m coming, okay? I’m coming and I’ll be there in a little bit, okay? I’m coming…” He kept reassuring Frankie, afraid to hand up and call 911 for the fear that if he lost contact with him, he’d die. And what if he called back and he didn’t answer? No, he had to get there first…had to see for himself. Needed to see…needed…
*
Frankie didn’t have any feeling at all, anywhere. There was no feeling in his toes, his feet, his legs…hell he didn’t even know if he had any legs. He knew damn sure that he had a head though, or at least half of one now. The pain that kept shooting through his neck and face was enough to keep him up, awake. The only other thing keeping him up was Gerard’s voice. He didn’t remember how he managed to call Gee, or how he managed to keep breathing for that matter. But Gee was on the way and he would be saved. Hopefully.
He whimpered in pain as another jolt of it wracked through him, his leg actually twitching. Gerard’s voice rose and octave at it and hurriedly told him that he was getting closer and was almost there. Gee forced a laugh when he mentioned something about, “Thank God there are no cops around at 3 in the morning”.
Please get here Gerard… He talked to Gee mentally. Even though I know you can‘t save me…
Frankie closed his eyes as more pain seethed through him. He only meant to close them for a second.
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