After Europe, we returned to Japan. It was weird for me, being on that plane. I felt like a completely different guy, not like the one who had thought about how he would die, how he would kill himself, on that very same route. And being there was like experiencing it for the first time, since I couldn't remember anything from that first trip, except that strong death wish I'd had, the sickness, not only in my stomach but under my skin and Lana's voice in my head as I sat alone in my hotel room. Now, I needed positive, new memories, just like she had said, to replace the bad ones. We didn't have a lot of time off to actually go and explore but it was enough to fascinate me, especially Tokyo. I loved that mix between modern and traditional; temples, in the middle of bright neon colors, elegant old Japanese men walking down the street next to Harajuku girls. One day, I had to come back with Lana and show her all this, I thought.

On our way back to the States, we stopped in Hawaii which was also beautiful. But my mood was ruined when Brian knocked on my door, wanting to talk to me. I knew what this was about. Mark, the guy we had met in 2003 and who had booked us for our first Warped Tour the year later, had called, asking about whether or not we were up for it again this year. Back then, he had given me drugs, alcohol, unaware that he was feeding a habit that was getting out of control. Although I didn't hold a grudge, I didn't exactly want to see him again either.

'If you don't feel comfortable doing it, we won't.' this was Brian's tactic. He was pretending to give me a choice when he really didn't because he then guilt-tripped me into saying yes.

'Brian, you and me both know that you already confirmed. What's the point?' I called him out and he sighed.

'It's Warped, man. It's those kids you wanna reach. And they want you! It will be totally different this year. We'll have a bus, for starters. We'll have money to stay at hotels every once in a while. Lots of great bands, we'll ban all the booze from the bus if you want. We get more hands-on with the fans, just like you wanted.'

Why was he still talking? He knew I couldn't say no, even if I wanted to. And yes, he was right. It was the most important festival of the summer, although it didn't pay much, it would give us massive exposure throughout the country and if we wanted to keep going at the current pace, we needed it.

'Yeah. No worries. I'm in.' I said and he smiled, slapping me on the back.

'Awesome. Hey, don't worry, alright? You know we all support you.'

They did and they had been. But it would still be hard for me. All I knew was that I would never, under any circumstances, go back to drinking and doing drugs. That was in the past. I hated the person I used to be and I was now learning to actually like myself instead. Being sober opened up my mind to so many new things, not to mention that it brought Lana back into my life. Challenge accepted, I thought, as Brian left the room.

*

Freckles and I became inseparable. She slept in her little bed at the bottom of mine, although I had let her into bed with me a couple of times, not able to resist a cuddling session. For a puppy, she was actually very well behaved and I had enough free time to sign up for a training class with her which was also important since she got to meet other dogs and socialize.

Célia and Noah were in love with her too, understandably, and babysat her a few times when I couldn't take her with me and didn't want to leave her alone all day. She was literally the best present Gerard could have given me, she reminded me of him and now, the memories weren't painful anymore. He was clean, he was sober, he was doing what he loved doing, and while I missed him, I was content with counting down the days until I would see him again.

Slowly but surely, the snow was disappearing, giving way to the first fragile signs of the approaching spring. It was the beginning of March and my mother and Greg were visiting for a few days. Meaning, my mother was shopping and Greg was meeting his french clients and business associates but still made more of an effort to spend time with me than my mom. But eventually we managed to get together for a fancy dinner at Le Meurice, which I had always hated. It was so over the top with its crystal chandeliers, heavy damask curtains, antique mirrors and frescoes, looking more like Versailles than a restaurant but Mrs Thompson loved everything expensive so I ended up feeling like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, trying my best not to send any slippery little suckers flying across the restaurant.

What annoyed me the most about my mom was the fact that she wasn't even rich, nor had she ever been. Not that it mattered but she had always pretended to be the member of some elite club when really, the club was way too elite for her. Nonetheless she had managed to get a reservation while Greg and I clearly would have preferred some cozy bistro or bar.

'Are you not having any of the wine, sweetie?' sweetie? What in the fuck?

'I'm not drinking.' I answered, gaining a confused look from her.

'Why? I thought you were perfectly healthy?'

'I am. I just don't want any wine.'

I didn't really want to get into it. The reason I didn't drink, the reason I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol although I was allowed, was of course, Gerard. It wasn't a solidarity thing but more like something I did out of respect for him. Alcohol had lost its appeal, even something simple as a glass of wine with dinner. Which was quite weird for a girl from Paris and I didn't have a problem with others drinking around me, still, I couldn't help but feel repulsed by the thought of enjoying something that had almost killed someone I loved.

'Whatever happened to the boy you met in New York? What was his name again?'

'Gerard.' I said. 'We're still friends. He was here last month, touring with his band.'

'Friends? When I saw you two, I got the impression you were a bit more than friends. Oh, he was so cute.' my mother giggled and I rolled my eyes at which Greg laughed.

'Well, right now we can only be friends. But he's gonna visit again in April.' as a matter of fact, he had decided to come to Paris to see me after a short tour in the UK in just a few weeks.

'In the meantime, you got Freckles.' Greg stated.

'Who's Freckles?' my mom asked, completely clueless although she had met my puppy.

'My dog? She was a present from Gerard.'

'Oh. That's nice, I guess. Although, I would have preferred diamonds. Or a handbag.'

Yeah, luckily, I'm not you, I thought, exchanging a look with Greg.

*

'Have you seen the video yet?' I asked Lana over the phone, excited, curious and kind of anxious to hear what she thought about it.

It was the video for 'Helena', the song about my grandmother, and we had reenacted a funeral for the music video which we had shot in a church.

'No not yet, where can I see it?'

'Ugh fuck, I don't think it has premiered in Europe yet. Wait, I'll email you a link.' I held the phone between my ear and shoulder while sending the email and a sound in the background announced that Lana had received it.

'Okay, I'll watch it and then I'll call you back okay?' she said and hung up.

The video had been really hard to shoot. Especially since I couldn't even remember the actual funeral due to the fact that I had been drunk and stoned out of my mind. It felt like reliving it all over again. But I was happy with the result and so far, it had been well received by fans and critics alike which meant a lot to me although the opinion I cared about the most, was Lana's.

About five minutes later, my phone rang again and I took a deep breath, picking up. Immediately, I could hear that she was crying.

'And?' I asked carefully.

'I think it's perfect. Gerard, it's beautiful. All of you guys did a great job. And the dancing girl...it's so sad but I don't know how to describe it...it also made me kind of happy?'

'The ballerina...' I said, aware that she knew it had been my way to incorporate a piece of her in the video too.

'I bet Elena is up there in Heaven, bragging about having a famous song and music video dedicated to her.' Lana replied and I had to laugh at the thought. As much as it still hurt, as much as I still missed her, I had found comfort in knowing that she was still watching over me.

We spent another hour talking, about my grandma, about Freckles and her shenanigans, Lana's work and how annoying her mother was. Somehow, at the mention of her mom, I had to think of the morning she had caught us in bed together. The morning after we had made love for the first time. How perfect everything had been back then, the feeling of holding her in my arms, knowing she was mine and I was hers. Even though I had told her that I disapproved of the fact that she wasn't seeing anyone, somehow I was glad about it. No, I didn't want her to be unhappy and if she was to meet a guy, a guy who treated her right, a guy she'd end up loving more than she loved me, I'd want her to be with him. I'd be heartbroken, insanely jealous and bitter but I would respect her choice. After all, it was my fault that what we'd had, had ended.

And I knew she ultimately wanted the same for me. Although I hadn't been with any other girl either. I hadn't even felt tempted. The guys had teased me, were still teasing me, constantly, trying to hook me up with girls, trying to introduce me to so-and-so's friend or someone so-and-so had brought but for what purpose? For a quick fuck? To forget about Lana for a few brief moments? Nah, that wasn't worth it. And I much rather thought about her while jerking myself off. Which was a lot nicer, actually.

We were off to tour the US and Canada for the whole of March now, before we were scheduled to do a mini tour in the UK, playing two shows on one day in London for my birthday. The guys would fly back to the US while my plan was to spend a few days in Paris with Lana. Everything was easier with the prospect of seeing her again soon.

*

I looked at Greg, nervously cracking my knuckles under the table. We had met in a café, without my mother trying to control every conversation. They were going back to New York tomorrow and now I was about to ask him for a favor. I had no idea how he would react and his questioning expression didn't exactly help.

'Umm...you can say no, of course. I'd understand.' I began.

'How about you ask me the question first?' he smiled and it calmed me down a little bit.

I cleared my throat, pretending to adjust Freckles' collar to avoid eye contact with him. 'Well, you know, I haven't been to my dad's grave ever since his funeral. My mom never took me and I don't even remember where exactly it is. I don't wanna go by myself. So...I was wondering if you could come with me, maybe? Or is that too awkward?'

'Oh Lana, no, it's not too awkward. Of course I'll come with you.' Greg answered to my surprise.

'Really? Thank you so much, Greg. It means a lot to me.' I reached across the table and took his hands. Thinking about it, he was more family to me than my own mother. No wonder she was so jealous of our relationship.

It had been my conversation with Gerard that had given me the idea to visit the cemetery. And at first I had thought about waiting for him, to ask him whether he'd come with me to my father's grave. But it only seemed fair that I'd asked the man who had taken on the role as a dad. Also, it was time they 'met' each other.

We asked the cemetery gardener for directions to my dad's grave and luckily, he was able to help us out. I felt so shitty and careless as we approached it, the fact that I hadn't been here in over ten years making me feel guilty. My mother had grieved on her own, so caught up in her painful loss that she forgot that she had a daughter who had suffered it too. I didn't blame her, I imagined it to be the most difficult thing to do, to care for someone in the middle of all this. But I was her child, for God's sake. She could have tried harder.

Surprisingly, all the thoughts and confusing feelings disappeared as I stood at his grave with Greg by my side. It had been such a long time that I felt almost detached from it all. My dad had been a great guy, a great father. As much as I tried to deny it, I had inherited my mother's seriousness which sometimes made me seem cold, even bitchy. But mixed with my father's witty sarcasm, I had acquired my dark sense of humor. That was my interpretation anyway.

'I can only assume that you're just like your father because you are certainly nothing like your mother.' Greg spoke in a low voice and his words seemed to come at just the right moment.

'I'd like to think so.' I smiled and put down the flowers I had brought.

'Do you mind if I speak to him alone for a moment?' he asked and I gave him a confused look but nodded.

He caught up with me at the entrance a few minutes later. 'What did he say?'

'He said yes.'

'Yes to what?' I wanted to know, not able to tame my curiosity.

'I asked him if he would mind if I walked you down the aisle at your wedding.' he smirked and I felt my mouth fall open in shock.

'Why would you ask him that? I don't even have a boyfriend.' I replied. I couldn't believe that he would even think of something like that.

'Well, you know. Just a provision for the future.'

Whatever, I thought, as I got into the car, knowing for sure that I'd never get married.

Notes

thanks everyone for reading, subscribing, voting and commenting - it means a lot to me

btw, this sequel is already getting longer than the original first story
and I'm still not finished so there will be a Part 3, making it a trilogy or series if you like :)

until next time - I'll try to update on thursday or friday!