Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Without You Is How I Disappear
A//N
From now, on I'm going to be splitting the chapters up into two, because my new job keeps me away from the computer for quite a lot of the day, so I don't have time to type an entire chapter, but I promise a whole chapter at least once every other weekend. It's not much, I know, but Really, I'm only getting one person that comments on this story, so whatever. lol.
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Gerard's POV
"Well, I can stay for a while, but I have to be back in L.A. in a week or two because I'm getting very behind on my designs." Christi quickly explained. I hated that she was talking to our daughter as if she was one of her clients, and not a small child, her child.
"Oh... Come see my room, it's so pretty!" Julia said grabbing Christi's hand and dragging her up stairs. I shook my head and went back to my easel, where I was painting a picture of the guest house that had burnt down last summer, and I had never bothered with rebuilding it.
Christi's POV
I trailed behind Julia as she pulled me through the entire upstairs of the house until she got to the attic stairway and pulled the door open and led me up there. It was... quaint. There were tons of toys laying all over the floor, and she had a queen sized bed, but it somehow seemed empty. Like no matter how hard they had tried they tried, they couldn't transform this attic into a little girl's bedroom.
"Why do you live in the attic?" I asked as I sat down on her bed. She sat down at her dollhouse, and exact replica of the house right down to the furniture in each room. I couldn't help but notice the presence of easels in every room but three.
"Because daddy needed a room to paint in, and I always wanted this room, so I traded him my room for the attic." She explained as she took a doll out of a box next to the house. She looked at me, then at the doll, and put her on the bed in the attic.
"Aren't there rooms for daddy to paint in though?"
"He already painted in all of them. A lot of them are girls walking away, and daddy sitting on the floor crying. Things like that. I'm not supposed to go in the rooms, but I do. Daddy says the pictures are too sad for me to be looking at." She explained.
"Julia, supper's ready." Lucy called up the stairs.
"Gramma Lucy! Come see who's here!" Julia said, jetting down the stairs. Lucy stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me.
"Well, Ophelia, how nice of you to grace us with your presence after all these years." Lucy smugly muttered. I smiled and walked over to her.
"It's lovely to see you again too." I said sticking my hand out for her to shake. She rolled her eyes as I spoke, dissapointed that I had changed the way I speak.
"Will you be joining us for supper then?" She asked. Lucy was raised in a poor household in London, so she would never be unkind to anybody.
"Well, I'm going to be here for a few days."
"I'm going too go set an extra place at the table. Wash up and come down." Lucy said as she turned and left the attic. Julia ran to her dollhouse and put all of the people at the kitchen table. Except for the man. She left him standing at his easel, on the porch.
Gerard's POV
"Gerard, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?" Lucy asked as she walked out onto the porch, where I was painting.
"Um... No. I'm going to go upstairs. I'll have some later."
"It'll get cold."
"I'll be fine." I whispered. Lucy sighed, and after a minute she went back inside and put my dish into the refrigerator. I was surprised that she even still asked me if I was coming down to dinner. I hadn't sat at the table for a meal with the family since I came back from Chicago six years ago. I usually went upstairs and painted. On paper, on canvases, on walls. I painted wherever and whatever I could.
I went upstairs and into the room that had been Christi's and mine. On the wall next to the closet, I had painted myself, sitting on the floor crying, just like I'd done the morning she left. I had painted Christi on the back of the door. Well, Christi's back as she left. Other than that, there were only splotches of paint all over. On the walls, on the carpet, on the dresser in the closet. After I came back from Chicago, I was obsessed with changing, obsessed with winnnig her back. I searched my brain for days, trying to figure it out, and when I couldn't do it, I started throwing handfuls of paint all over the place. After that, I thought for a few days. I tried to learn the bass, but I lost interest. I got an edgy hair cut, and started dressing differently, but all that did was make me feel like a fool. I kept it up, hoping that after art school, I would get a chance to go and find her again, but by the time I graduated, Christi had mived to L.A. and she and Pete were regularly on magazine covers. It became apparent that unless she came back to me, I would never see her again. Then she sent divorce papers. I copied the address from the front of them, and sent them back. For the next year, she would send them back periodically, but I kept sending them back, and eventually she stopped sending them. I sat down on the floor and stared at the ceiling. After about an hour, I went downstairs to get my dinner. On my way to the stairs, I could hear Christi talking to Stacey about making her a dress while she was there. And as soon as the words left Christi's mouth, Stacey, ever the excited eleven-year-old, demanded she start right away. I laughed and continued my walk downstairs to eat my cold dinner.
From now, on I'm going to be splitting the chapters up into two, because my new job keeps me away from the computer for quite a lot of the day, so I don't have time to type an entire chapter, but I promise a whole chapter at least once every other weekend. It's not much, I know, but Really, I'm only getting one person that comments on this story, so whatever. lol.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
Gerard's POV
"Well, I can stay for a while, but I have to be back in L.A. in a week or two because I'm getting very behind on my designs." Christi quickly explained. I hated that she was talking to our daughter as if she was one of her clients, and not a small child, her child.
"Oh... Come see my room, it's so pretty!" Julia said grabbing Christi's hand and dragging her up stairs. I shook my head and went back to my easel, where I was painting a picture of the guest house that had burnt down last summer, and I had never bothered with rebuilding it.
Christi's POV
I trailed behind Julia as she pulled me through the entire upstairs of the house until she got to the attic stairway and pulled the door open and led me up there. It was... quaint. There were tons of toys laying all over the floor, and she had a queen sized bed, but it somehow seemed empty. Like no matter how hard they had tried they tried, they couldn't transform this attic into a little girl's bedroom.
"Why do you live in the attic?" I asked as I sat down on her bed. She sat down at her dollhouse, and exact replica of the house right down to the furniture in each room. I couldn't help but notice the presence of easels in every room but three.
"Because daddy needed a room to paint in, and I always wanted this room, so I traded him my room for the attic." She explained as she took a doll out of a box next to the house. She looked at me, then at the doll, and put her on the bed in the attic.
"Aren't there rooms for daddy to paint in though?"
"He already painted in all of them. A lot of them are girls walking away, and daddy sitting on the floor crying. Things like that. I'm not supposed to go in the rooms, but I do. Daddy says the pictures are too sad for me to be looking at." She explained.
"Julia, supper's ready." Lucy called up the stairs.
"Gramma Lucy! Come see who's here!" Julia said, jetting down the stairs. Lucy stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me.
"Well, Ophelia, how nice of you to grace us with your presence after all these years." Lucy smugly muttered. I smiled and walked over to her.
"It's lovely to see you again too." I said sticking my hand out for her to shake. She rolled her eyes as I spoke, dissapointed that I had changed the way I speak.
"Will you be joining us for supper then?" She asked. Lucy was raised in a poor household in London, so she would never be unkind to anybody.
"Well, I'm going to be here for a few days."
"I'm going too go set an extra place at the table. Wash up and come down." Lucy said as she turned and left the attic. Julia ran to her dollhouse and put all of the people at the kitchen table. Except for the man. She left him standing at his easel, on the porch.
Gerard's POV
"Gerard, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?" Lucy asked as she walked out onto the porch, where I was painting.
"Um... No. I'm going to go upstairs. I'll have some later."
"It'll get cold."
"I'll be fine." I whispered. Lucy sighed, and after a minute she went back inside and put my dish into the refrigerator. I was surprised that she even still asked me if I was coming down to dinner. I hadn't sat at the table for a meal with the family since I came back from Chicago six years ago. I usually went upstairs and painted. On paper, on canvases, on walls. I painted wherever and whatever I could.
I went upstairs and into the room that had been Christi's and mine. On the wall next to the closet, I had painted myself, sitting on the floor crying, just like I'd done the morning she left. I had painted Christi on the back of the door. Well, Christi's back as she left. Other than that, there were only splotches of paint all over. On the walls, on the carpet, on the dresser in the closet. After I came back from Chicago, I was obsessed with changing, obsessed with winnnig her back. I searched my brain for days, trying to figure it out, and when I couldn't do it, I started throwing handfuls of paint all over the place. After that, I thought for a few days. I tried to learn the bass, but I lost interest. I got an edgy hair cut, and started dressing differently, but all that did was make me feel like a fool. I kept it up, hoping that after art school, I would get a chance to go and find her again, but by the time I graduated, Christi had mived to L.A. and she and Pete were regularly on magazine covers. It became apparent that unless she came back to me, I would never see her again. Then she sent divorce papers. I copied the address from the front of them, and sent them back. For the next year, she would send them back periodically, but I kept sending them back, and eventually she stopped sending them. I sat down on the floor and stared at the ceiling. After about an hour, I went downstairs to get my dinner. On my way to the stairs, I could hear Christi talking to Stacey about making her a dress while she was there. And as soon as the words left Christi's mouth, Stacey, ever the excited eleven-year-old, demanded she start right away. I laughed and continued my walk downstairs to eat my cold dinner.
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