Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Look Around If You're Guilty
The following morning I woke up early, Gerard was lying next to me, still asleep. I watched his chest rise and fall, the way his hair fell over his eyes… He was so remarkable, if only I could speak such thoughts out loud. A knock at the door disturbed me from my fantasies. It hadn’t woken Gerard so, pulling a jumper over my pyjamas, I went to answer it myself.
She was standing there; her whorish makeup smudged over her eyes, her tangled hair thrust in what she must have thought of as a sophisticated bun. But the worst thing was the stench; it was 9 am but already the alcohol hung in her breath, polluting the air around her. I don’t know how she found me, probably looking for Gerard through Mrs Way, but I was afraid, frightened beyond what I had ever felt before.
“Why did you leave me?” her voice was laced with honey, sickly sweet. “How could you do that to me?” I hung my head in shame. I knew I’d done nothing wrong, I owed her nothing, but still I was guilty beyond belief.
“Fucking cunt, answer me!” Her innocent mask shattered, leaving her face burning with rage.
“I…” She wouldn’t even let me get the words out before hitting me across the jaw. She lashed out like a mad woman, beating me with everything she’d got.
“Leave him alone.” The voice wasn’t loud, but it was powerful, commanding. I spun round to see Gerard standing in the door way, his face dark with fury. I tried to plead with him, to tell him with my eyes that this was a bad idea, but he didn’t back down.
“Who’s he, your boyfriend?” my mother jeered, then she stopped. “You’re not a fucking faggot? My son is not fucking gay!” She turned on me, her fist connecting with my stomach.
“Mrs Iero, please leave my house.” Couldn’t he see he was making it worse?
“Fine, but I’m taking my son with me.” Her eyes were bright with malice, Sighing I began walking towards the door.
“No.” Gerard’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. “I think Frankie would like to stay here for a while.” I couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, sticking up for me in a way no one had ever done before.
“He’s my son and he’s fucking going to come with me,” she yelled back at him. He looked pointedly at the telephone.
“I’m sure the police would love to hear all about you.” That was his final card played, and it looked like it had worked. She froze, her face twisting into an expression akin to fear.
“Fuck you,” she muttered before walking out the door and slamming it shut behind her
For a moment, or possibly an eternity, neither of us moved, then Gerard came to me and wrapped his warm arms around my shaking body.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his shoulder, “I’m so sorry.” He pulled away slightly and looked me in the eye, then he leant forward and gently brushed his lips against mine. They were only there for a second, possibly two at most, but a beautiful warmth filled me and for the briefest moment I forgot all my pain.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, “don’t you ever be sorry.”
She was standing there; her whorish makeup smudged over her eyes, her tangled hair thrust in what she must have thought of as a sophisticated bun. But the worst thing was the stench; it was 9 am but already the alcohol hung in her breath, polluting the air around her. I don’t know how she found me, probably looking for Gerard through Mrs Way, but I was afraid, frightened beyond what I had ever felt before.
“Why did you leave me?” her voice was laced with honey, sickly sweet. “How could you do that to me?” I hung my head in shame. I knew I’d done nothing wrong, I owed her nothing, but still I was guilty beyond belief.
“Fucking cunt, answer me!” Her innocent mask shattered, leaving her face burning with rage.
“I…” She wouldn’t even let me get the words out before hitting me across the jaw. She lashed out like a mad woman, beating me with everything she’d got.
“Leave him alone.” The voice wasn’t loud, but it was powerful, commanding. I spun round to see Gerard standing in the door way, his face dark with fury. I tried to plead with him, to tell him with my eyes that this was a bad idea, but he didn’t back down.
“Who’s he, your boyfriend?” my mother jeered, then she stopped. “You’re not a fucking faggot? My son is not fucking gay!” She turned on me, her fist connecting with my stomach.
“Mrs Iero, please leave my house.” Couldn’t he see he was making it worse?
“Fine, but I’m taking my son with me.” Her eyes were bright with malice, Sighing I began walking towards the door.
“No.” Gerard’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. “I think Frankie would like to stay here for a while.” I couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, sticking up for me in a way no one had ever done before.
“He’s my son and he’s fucking going to come with me,” she yelled back at him. He looked pointedly at the telephone.
“I’m sure the police would love to hear all about you.” That was his final card played, and it looked like it had worked. She froze, her face twisting into an expression akin to fear.
“Fuck you,” she muttered before walking out the door and slamming it shut behind her
For a moment, or possibly an eternity, neither of us moved, then Gerard came to me and wrapped his warm arms around my shaking body.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his shoulder, “I’m so sorry.” He pulled away slightly and looked me in the eye, then he leant forward and gently brushed his lips against mine. They were only there for a second, possibly two at most, but a beautiful warmth filled me and for the briefest moment I forgot all my pain.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, “don’t you ever be sorry.”
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