Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Wearing Drugs On Your Skin
Frank's P.O.V.
"Speak of the devil" I muttered below my breath as I took in another deep gulp of air, my finger hovering over the talk button in hesitation. I know as much as I'd like not to, that Jamia is right, I need to talk to him, or the very future of this band could be in jeopardy all because of my stupid, foolish, reckless, and fearful mistake. I pressed the button, shakily bringing the receiver to my ear.
"H–Hello?" I asked quietly, struggling to keep quivering voice to a low. I stared fearfully at Jamia who smiled lightly, pushing up off the bed and pacing out of the room, leaving me with privacy, although I am almost unsure that I even need it. He probably won't say anything, he might just hang up when he realizes that I'm a hopeless, and worthless thing to even be apologizing to. I'm not worth whatever it is that he might want to say, unless of course he called because he can't bare going another second without insulting me and letting me know just how much it is that I should suffer for being such an irresponsible and ignorant being. I personally don't even think I am worth being told that much, the whole thing would just be a waste of breath and time that he could be spending with the girl he must love more than anyone now...
"Frank... th–this is Frank, right?" his lovely voice asked, pouring through the speaker and dousing my eardrums in the beautiful, magnificent, and somewhat comforting sound. His voice has always been enough to lift a slight bit of stress from me, but at this moment in time, I think it can only cause more stress and hurt, because I know whatever words he is about to say to me can only crack what's left of my heart. They can only break the remainder of my thin, happy disguise and expose me the bitterness of the truth, putting me in direct contact with the small bit of information that I have been struggling to ignore. I sharply inhaled after a few moments, the blood rushing away from my face again.
"Yes....i–it is..." I struggled to get out, already feeling my throat constrict, sobs threatening to claw their way out of my throat as I winced, preparing for a plethora of insults and hurtful words. I swear whoever the hell came up with the sticks and stones saying must have been the biggest dumb ass that ever was born, because that it the most absolute, untrue saying in the world. If anything, I would rather be struck with sticks and stones then face any of this mans cruel words.
"F–Frank, go pack your bags. Get a lot of clothes, maybe, s–say uhm, a few months worth" his voice demanded quietly, almost to the point of a whisper, definitely not at all the response I was planning on hearing.
"W–What?" I breathed out from shock and confusion, completely taken aback by the fact that he wasn't yelling and screaming profanities at me. What, was he going to come and try and kick me out of the house? Was he about to contact Jamia and tell her what happened and expects her to kick me out after she knows?
"Pack your bags, Frank, you heard me correctly" he stated again, this time his voice slightly more determined and stern than before. I chewed my lip nervously, trying to devise some sort of response to those words, I mean, what am I supposed to say? I don't even know what the man is talking about...
"G–Ger–Gerard..." I choked out quietly, stifling a cry as the tears began leaking from the corner of my blurry, salt water washed eyes. There could never be a creature in this world that I both feared and loved more than him, he has always held the power of hoisting me up from the rest of the world, but at the same time has the strength to shatter my fragile, worthless life.
"Hey, hey, are you crying? Stop it, don't cry" he demanded, obviously trying to sound rough, and stern, failing terribly at the disguise as a small whine slithered through the back of his throat hidden below a deep sigh. I'm sure no other person would have heard it, but I've always been one for detail and focus, and missing a single breath that escapes this mans mouth, or a slight flinch that shakes his unbreakable determined body would be one of the biggest and most painful losses. There's beauty in every drop of his blood, and precipitation from his breath, all of it is magnificent and gorgeous and I'd trade the world just to hear a single sigh escape his lips if it were to be the last thing I hear. There's nothing I could ever adore more, nothing more beautiful than the simple, microscopic signs that let me know he is still alive and here. I tiny sob managed to leak through my vocal chords and crack into the phone as I struggled to tackle the silence before he did.
"W–what is going o–on? Why do I–I have to pack my b–bags? Do... do you hate me so much that you're g–going to tell J–Jamia? Am I that much of a s–shameful mistake to you? You really want me to s–suffer that much, don't you? I–I should have figured..." I mumbled quietly, regretting even saying a word as I heard his sharp inhale on the other line. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, once again preparing for the worse, I tend to have quite a way with making people upset with me.
"Frank, I'm not telling anyone anything, I'm not trying to make you suffer. Just, look okay, just... pack your bags, I'm about to give Lyn Z the phone, so give the phone to Jamia, she will explain to her what is going on. Be at the airport in an hour and wait at gate 12..." he trailed off as I sniffled quietly, once again I'm sure no one else would notice that he didn't state that I'm not a mistake... that he didn't reassure me that I was worth it while it lasted, no, he said none of that.
"W-why?" I questioned below my breath, as I forcefully smudged the tears off my cheeks.
"Just be there, Frank, okay? No more questions, just do as I say. Now please hand the phone to Jamia" he demanded in a once again stern and strong voice that I could see right through. I shook my head fearfully, not quite realizing that Gerard couldn't see my actions. How can I possibly trust the fact that the minute I hand the phone to Jamia that he won't just start confessing to her all of the things that have happened so that I can have my life crushed just as bad as I've probably crushed his? How can I trust that he honestly doesn't want me to suffer... because it's now obvious that I never was more than a mistake... that he must have lied to me all those years, that he didn't really give a damn and that I was destroying a perfectly beautiful relationship with Jamia just to be falsely directed by a man who didn't even love me like he said he did.
"What is L–lyn Z g–"
"I said no more questions, Frank. Now hand the fucking phone to Jamia before I change my mind" He growled in a threatening tone that made me shrink away from the receiver. I might love him more than anything, but even the single raise in his voice frightens me more than anything. No, not because I think he would ever hurt me, physically anyway, but more so that I just fear how much power I know he has over me, it's dangerous. He could kill me very easily without even having the intentions to do so...
"F–Fine, asshole" I mumbled into the phone as I paced down the hall handing it over to Jamia before stalking back into my room, tears quickly streaking my raw cheeks once again. I wish I could hate him sometimes. I really wish I could have the power to stand up and say no to him, to stand up and actually have support under my feet that I myself put there, and not him. If there's anything in this world that I hate more than anything, it's the fact that I have to love him no matter what...
"Speak of the devil" I muttered below my breath as I took in another deep gulp of air, my finger hovering over the talk button in hesitation. I know as much as I'd like not to, that Jamia is right, I need to talk to him, or the very future of this band could be in jeopardy all because of my stupid, foolish, reckless, and fearful mistake. I pressed the button, shakily bringing the receiver to my ear.
"H–Hello?" I asked quietly, struggling to keep quivering voice to a low. I stared fearfully at Jamia who smiled lightly, pushing up off the bed and pacing out of the room, leaving me with privacy, although I am almost unsure that I even need it. He probably won't say anything, he might just hang up when he realizes that I'm a hopeless, and worthless thing to even be apologizing to. I'm not worth whatever it is that he might want to say, unless of course he called because he can't bare going another second without insulting me and letting me know just how much it is that I should suffer for being such an irresponsible and ignorant being. I personally don't even think I am worth being told that much, the whole thing would just be a waste of breath and time that he could be spending with the girl he must love more than anyone now...
"Frank... th–this is Frank, right?" his lovely voice asked, pouring through the speaker and dousing my eardrums in the beautiful, magnificent, and somewhat comforting sound. His voice has always been enough to lift a slight bit of stress from me, but at this moment in time, I think it can only cause more stress and hurt, because I know whatever words he is about to say to me can only crack what's left of my heart. They can only break the remainder of my thin, happy disguise and expose me the bitterness of the truth, putting me in direct contact with the small bit of information that I have been struggling to ignore. I sharply inhaled after a few moments, the blood rushing away from my face again.
"Yes....i–it is..." I struggled to get out, already feeling my throat constrict, sobs threatening to claw their way out of my throat as I winced, preparing for a plethora of insults and hurtful words. I swear whoever the hell came up with the sticks and stones saying must have been the biggest dumb ass that ever was born, because that it the most absolute, untrue saying in the world. If anything, I would rather be struck with sticks and stones then face any of this mans cruel words.
"F–Frank, go pack your bags. Get a lot of clothes, maybe, s–say uhm, a few months worth" his voice demanded quietly, almost to the point of a whisper, definitely not at all the response I was planning on hearing.
"W–What?" I breathed out from shock and confusion, completely taken aback by the fact that he wasn't yelling and screaming profanities at me. What, was he going to come and try and kick me out of the house? Was he about to contact Jamia and tell her what happened and expects her to kick me out after she knows?
"Pack your bags, Frank, you heard me correctly" he stated again, this time his voice slightly more determined and stern than before. I chewed my lip nervously, trying to devise some sort of response to those words, I mean, what am I supposed to say? I don't even know what the man is talking about...
"G–Ger–Gerard..." I choked out quietly, stifling a cry as the tears began leaking from the corner of my blurry, salt water washed eyes. There could never be a creature in this world that I both feared and loved more than him, he has always held the power of hoisting me up from the rest of the world, but at the same time has the strength to shatter my fragile, worthless life.
"Hey, hey, are you crying? Stop it, don't cry" he demanded, obviously trying to sound rough, and stern, failing terribly at the disguise as a small whine slithered through the back of his throat hidden below a deep sigh. I'm sure no other person would have heard it, but I've always been one for detail and focus, and missing a single breath that escapes this mans mouth, or a slight flinch that shakes his unbreakable determined body would be one of the biggest and most painful losses. There's beauty in every drop of his blood, and precipitation from his breath, all of it is magnificent and gorgeous and I'd trade the world just to hear a single sigh escape his lips if it were to be the last thing I hear. There's nothing I could ever adore more, nothing more beautiful than the simple, microscopic signs that let me know he is still alive and here. I tiny sob managed to leak through my vocal chords and crack into the phone as I struggled to tackle the silence before he did.
"W–what is going o–on? Why do I–I have to pack my b–bags? Do... do you hate me so much that you're g–going to tell J–Jamia? Am I that much of a s–shameful mistake to you? You really want me to s–suffer that much, don't you? I–I should have figured..." I mumbled quietly, regretting even saying a word as I heard his sharp inhale on the other line. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, once again preparing for the worse, I tend to have quite a way with making people upset with me.
"Frank, I'm not telling anyone anything, I'm not trying to make you suffer. Just, look okay, just... pack your bags, I'm about to give Lyn Z the phone, so give the phone to Jamia, she will explain to her what is going on. Be at the airport in an hour and wait at gate 12..." he trailed off as I sniffled quietly, once again I'm sure no one else would notice that he didn't state that I'm not a mistake... that he didn't reassure me that I was worth it while it lasted, no, he said none of that.
"W-why?" I questioned below my breath, as I forcefully smudged the tears off my cheeks.
"Just be there, Frank, okay? No more questions, just do as I say. Now please hand the phone to Jamia" he demanded in a once again stern and strong voice that I could see right through. I shook my head fearfully, not quite realizing that Gerard couldn't see my actions. How can I possibly trust the fact that the minute I hand the phone to Jamia that he won't just start confessing to her all of the things that have happened so that I can have my life crushed just as bad as I've probably crushed his? How can I trust that he honestly doesn't want me to suffer... because it's now obvious that I never was more than a mistake... that he must have lied to me all those years, that he didn't really give a damn and that I was destroying a perfectly beautiful relationship with Jamia just to be falsely directed by a man who didn't even love me like he said he did.
"What is L–lyn Z g–"
"I said no more questions, Frank. Now hand the fucking phone to Jamia before I change my mind" He growled in a threatening tone that made me shrink away from the receiver. I might love him more than anything, but even the single raise in his voice frightens me more than anything. No, not because I think he would ever hurt me, physically anyway, but more so that I just fear how much power I know he has over me, it's dangerous. He could kill me very easily without even having the intentions to do so...
"F–Fine, asshole" I mumbled into the phone as I paced down the hall handing it over to Jamia before stalking back into my room, tears quickly streaking my raw cheeks once again. I wish I could hate him sometimes. I really wish I could have the power to stand up and say no to him, to stand up and actually have support under my feet that I myself put there, and not him. If there's anything in this world that I hate more than anything, it's the fact that I have to love him no matter what...
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