"Dude! For fu- I seriously? No, wait.. wait! Fuck, gimme a chance! Shit, no, no, no!" Ray finally gives in, throwing the game cube controller at the wall. The wire catches it just before it collides, and it falls to the ground, landing on a pillow.
"Well, I win. You know what that means," I grin sloppily at him, leaning back against my old beat up couch. His face drops.
"No,"
"Yes, c'mon, you promised," my grin widens at the horror in his eyes. "We made a deal. I told you I would kick your ass,"
"But, Gee..." he tries giving me his best puppy dog eyes, and even uses my nickname. Not gonna work. Especially when you use that name, Toro. I thought you knew me better than this...
"Nope. A deal is a deal, so say it. Say it now," I persist.
He squirms, clearly uncomfortable. I find myself enjoying seeing him in pain like this. Serves him right. Nobody beats the master, not even Ray Toro. It takes a minute for him to sum up the courage to look me in the eye again.
"I am your bitch," he spits, glaring at me.
"Go on..." I nod in agreement.
"And I want you to make me moan, Master Gerard please fuck me," his voice is dull and bland, not a speck of emotion in it.
"Good Ray, good boy," I smile and reach forward to pet his hair as if he were a five year old. Except no five year old could ever have hair as epic as Ray's.
"I hate you," he says, letting me play with his hair.
"I know," I say in a happy tone, and scoot closer toward him. He slouches backwards, slurping at his beer. I sit up beside him, and plant my hands into his fro. It's soft and fluffy, and feels incredibly deep. Delving in further and exploring the darkest reaches of the bundle of fuzz, I manage to dig my way to his head. "Aha!" I smile triumphantly. "I found it!"
"Found what? He twists around, pulling me with him. Glancing up at me, he gives me a look of pure concern as if he thinks I'm crazy.
"Your head. It was hiding under all this hair," the look of pure concern on his face turns into a look of amusment. "You're a crazy asshole, and you seriously need help,"
I shrug. "Maybe, maybe I do," and then I go back to playing with his hair.
Eventually I end up making some cute plaits out of his crazy locks, and I admire my creation as I sit back to get a good look at my master piece.
"Gerard, look,"
"Hm?" I blink, then look at the screen. "What is it?"
I don't know why I asked, as it was pretty obvious. On the television, a news reporter sits at a desk, and an image of a boy, around seventeen is beside her. Underneath the image, it says 'MISSING'. I purse my lips. This hasn't been on the news for a while now. Nobody knows where this kid is, he went missing years ago. Why are they putting it back up? I guess they have just found a lead or something. Or maybe they just found his dead body. That's how most kidnapping/disappearences are solved these days.
"It's that kid, the one who went missing six or seven years ago. Don't you remember? He lived just down the street from your parent's house,"
"Yeah, I remember now. What's happened?" I stop messing with his hair, and sink back into the couch. I reach for another beer and crack it open.
Ray doesn't say anthing. So I instead pay attention to the news reporter. "-since the boy was last seen. But, uncomfirmed sources have informed the police department of an annonymous tip that has lead Detective Lindsey Ballato to believe that despite the evidence of Iero's death, the boy may be still in fact, alive. Details of the case haven't been released yet," the reporter does that thing where she gathers all of her papers and neatens them out, tapping them against the table. I look back to Ray.
"Poor kid, I hope they find him," he mutters, shaking his fro. "More video games?" he asks me before I get a chance to input on the missing kid. I smile, but it feels forced as I nod.
"Yeah, sure. Just gonna get another coffee, I'm not in the mood for this crap," I gesture to the cheap can of lager I had put on the table. "You want one?"
"No, your cheap coffee is even worse than this cheap booze," he sticks his tounge out at me as if he were a child. I roll my eyes, knowing that the crap that just came out of his mouth is bullshit. I only buy the best coffee.
"You should be glad I offered, it's not often that somebody like you would get the privlage of drinking Way brewed coffee,"
"Dude, you buy your coffee. You don't even know how to 'brew' it. Besides, I thought you brew tea, not coffee," he frowns, stopping to ponder the mystery. I chuckle at him then quietly slip out of the room. Once I'm in the kitchen, I start to do what I first set out to do, but something catches my eye and I stop. I glance behind myself, just to check that Ray hasn't snuck up on me. No one is there. My gaze returns to what caught my eye. I know I shouldn't. Mikey made me promise that I wouldn't, and I'm sure Ray wouldn't be happy with me either if I do it. I chew my bottom lip, and shuffle toward the small plastic container I had left out from last week before Mikey found out. I had meant to bin them, but I'd completly forgotten about their existance. Picking it up, I inspect the insides. There are about ten left, at a guess. I can just have one, then no more. One isn't going to do much more than give me a small buzz. It's not like it will kill me.
I shrug, and pop it open. Nobody is here still, so I'm safe. I carefully tip it upside down, trying to get just one out, but I end up with two. I don't bother putting one back, and I quickly throw them in my mouth before I stash the rest of them somewhere I know Mikey will never find them. I finish making coffee, and then go back into the living room to see a pissed off looking Ray.
"Who shoved a stick up your ass?" I ask, sitting down and putting my coffee on the stained table.
"Huh, wha...?" he blinks, then looks at me, gormlessly. I roll my eyes.
"Fucking idiot, never mind," I grumble, punching him in the fro. Something dangerous stirs in his eyes, as if he's about to tackle me to the ground and feast on my flesh, but he doesn't, because somebody knocks at the door. I will have to thank that person at some point. They may have just saved my life.
"I'll get it!" I blurt out instantly, and jump to my feet with a small, not needed giggle. I dart over to the door, and pull it open. Looks like bean pole boy is here. I swear he's grown even taller since I last saw him. He towers over me now, it's quite intimidating. I remember when he was shorter than me. I wish it was still like that. He's done something different with his hair that makes me want to giggle some more, but I don't because that would be mean. He usually gells it backwards with some special moose crap to make it look darker, but today it's straightened into sort of like a mohawk.
"I was wondering when you would finally get your ass over here," I say, gesturing for him to come in. I'm glad that I erased the evidence of my 'drug use'. He would freak out if he saw it. Not that they are really 'drugs', drugs. It is legit medication.
"I was a little busy," He says, looking shady. He's got his hands behind his back, and I can't tell what, but he's holding something behind his back I think.
"Doing what?" I ask, frowning. I wanted to add a dirty comment about him and Alicia there, but I didn't. Instead, Ray does.
"He's been having violent, passionate sex with his girlfriend," I really didn't expect to hear that come form Princess Fro Fro's mouth.
"N-No I wasn't!" Mikey instantly puts his defensive barriers up, turning a deep shade of red. "I was out shopping,"
"Were you shopping for a new haircut by any chance?" I raise an eyebrow up at him. he turns an even darker shade of red. It's kind of more a purple actually.
"No! I uh, cut it myself..." he admits. "I was actually out at the music store,"
Instantly, Ray's fro bob's up and he looks at Mikey. Looks like somebody is interested. I'm fairly curious too, and I gesture for him to go on.
"Well, you see, I've been thinking a lot lately. I might try play bass again. I was pretty crappy at it before, but I wanna give it another shot. Plus, I've come up with a killer band name, so I need to start a band and use it," he explains in a rushed tone. "So, I kinda maybe used up all of my money buying this," he whips out a brand new, very, very, very expensive looking bass guitar from behind his back. It's certainly nice, and if you can play well, then it's definatly worth it. It's a deep red, resembling it's owners face right this minute, but it looks too perfect in a way. I can just imagine Mikey trying to play it, but being too scared of scratching it's flawless glossy paint job. I was like that with my guitar, but after a while, I smashed the fuck out of it and made a right mess of it's perfect body. Afterwards, it looked pretty kickass, and it still works which was a miracle.
"Holy fuck..." Ray flops off the couch then wiggles over to Mikey to admire his bass. "It's... do you know what you're holding...?" he looks up at my brother, a gleaming sparkle in his eyes.
"Um, well it-"
"Shh.... don't... don't..." Ray takes the bass in his arms, sort of hugging it. Weirdo. I leave them to have fun with their new toy, and I go into the kitchen. Time to make more coffee. Mikey might say that he comes to my new apartment so he can see me, but really I know he comes for the coffee because Alicia won't let him buy a decent coffee machine.
I have some time to think. So my little brother wants to start a rock band, huh? It's cute. He can play quite well after all, do I don't see why not. He's not brilliant, but he was only playing for about six months before he gave it up, and he was pretty good back then. I can't remember what happened to his old bass. I think it got destroyed in an argument he had with his girlfriend, but I'm not sure. Maybe him and Ray can start their own band together. Ray is one mother fucking good guitarist. He's proberbly the best I know to be honest. I don't think he's busy with any other bands right now. He was playing drums at one point with some other guys, but he ditched the drums a while ago.
With Mikey becoming a freshly inspired musician, of course I feel the familiar temptation to go dig out my old guitar, but it's useless. I can't play. I suck at it. I'll just draw instead later. I just need to get the whole creative stream out of my system. Besides, I have some stuff I need to get finished for work.
When I go back in, somehow an amp has appeared out of thin air, and Ray seems to be giving Mikey lessons. I stop and watch them from the doorway for a moment. Ray is sat on one of the wooden armless chairs, and has Mikey propped up on his lap. He has his ams wrapped around him so he can show Mikey where to put his fingers on the fret board by moving his hands around with his.
"No, no, you don't do it like that, right. Watch for a minute, I'll show you," Ray flicks Mikey's left hand away from the bass and proceeds to take over the fret board. He pushes his fingers down on a few different strings to form some complicated chord that I would never stand a chance of learning. "Strum now," he orders. The sandy blonde instantly complies, and firmly runs his pick over the strings. A strange, but enchanting note rings out from the speakers.
"Ah... I get it now. Can I have a go?"
"No. I'm on it, I just wanna try something," Ray hogs the bass, clearly adopting it as his own, whereas Mikey sits there groaning, waiting to actually get a go. I shake my head at them, and bring the coffee through. Mikey looks up at me mouthing 'HELP ME FOR FUCK'S SAKE' with what almost looks like tears in his eyes. I chuckle at my little brother's pain.
"Mikes..." I say, raising my voice sightly over the elaborate bass line that Ray is currently performing. "How much was the bass exactly?" I've been slightly worried about asking this question. It does look VERY expensive, and he looked pretty guilty when he told us.
"Why?" he asks, getting defensive again. I frown.
"Because you haven't told Alicia you've bought it yet, have you?" I read his mind using the super powers I wish I had. He gulps.
"No, I haven't..."
"So, how much?"
"I... uh..."
"It was three thousand and seventy dollars," Ray suddenly informs us, killing the bass by pulling the jack out.
"How the fuck did you know?" Mikey snaps, jumping off his lap.
"I've seen it before," Ray starts to explain, but I'm about to cut him off.
"Three thousaund dollars?" I explaim, glaring at my brother.
"And seventy," Ray adds, being the asshole he is.
"Well, yeah. I mean... oh, Gee, I just had too! Look at her, she's so beautiful!" he glances down to 'her' and gazes at it lovingly.
"Do you even have three thousand dollars?" I take a step closer toward him, and although he's towering over me right now, I feel pretty intimidating. Good. He should be crapping his pants. Not because of me though, but becuase of Alicia. She is going to kill him.
"No, not any more I suppose," he gives me a stupid smile trying to lighten the situation. He notices that I'm not impressed. "Look, Gee," he uses my nickname. Only he can get away with that. "It's gonna pay off, I mean, what if I can actually get in a good band? What if we actually make it?"
I bite my lip. I want to tell him the truth, that making a band get big is hard work, that there is a good chance he's going nowhere, but I don't wanna make him feel like shit. Instead, I just shrug it off. "Well, go and ask your girlfriend that. She's the one you've gotta be scared of,"
"Yeah, Alicia scares me. No disrespect there dude, your girl is awesome and all, but she can be really terrifying," Ray admits. I fall back into the couch, and let it's overly softness suck me in. I rub my eyes with a loud yawn. I only just realize how tired I am.
"You guys wanna crash? It's getting late and I want sleep so you can either fuck off or stay here and be quiet," I leave the question to hang in the air for a moment. Mikey is the first to answer me.
"I'm not staying here, my bed at home is too comfy to abandon," he get's up and stretches.
"You just wanna have some awesome sex with Alicia..." Ray teases him with a smirk. Mikey scowls before turning to leave.
"You're forgetting something," I state. He turns to face me and smiles sheeplishly.
"Yeah, if you don't mind I'm gonna leave it here for now," he rubs the back of his head. I sigh, and they both leave after another ten minutes. I decide to get some long overdue art work finished, so I collect my things, and lay some paper out on the coffee table, being careful not to get it wet from any of the spills. I frown at the page, chewing the end of my pencil. I can't think of very much to draw. I have plenty of things that the Cartoon Network has set me to do, but none of it interests me. I rub my temples and close my eyes, waiting for inspiration to hit me.
I hum quietly to myself. It's a tune I don't recognise, but it interests me so I carry on. I open my eyes, and look back at the page. Artist's block. It's definately the one thing I hate more than anything. Especially when I actually have work to get though, but how am I supposed to draw if I have nothing to inspire me? How do I meet deadlines if that's the case? My boss doesn't understand this, I don't think.
"Hand in mine, into your icy blues..." I murmer to myself, fixing it in with the tune I have stuck in my head. "And then I'd say to you, we could take to the highway..." I feel as if more words should follow on, but I go silent. I'm not in a singing mood, or a creative mood whatsoever. Maybe I should just go to sleep. Maybe I'll get lucky and wake up really inspired by some crazy dream.
I yawn again. I lie down and let my eyes fall shut. I expect sleep to take me away instantly, but it doesn't. Instead, the thought of the missing kid pops up into my head. I wonder where he is... if he's actually still alive. Ray said that he used to live near my parent's house, back before I moved out, but I don't remember him. I try to recall his name, but I can't. I only heard his second name on that news report. Iero, I think. It doesn't ring a bell. Maybe Ray was wrong, maybe the kid isn't even from New Jersey. I have no idea. I never got out much, and still don't, so I never really paid much attention to the neighbourhood kids. He didn't go to my school though, that's for sure. I would have known him if that was the case.
I think it would be kind of interesting to be kidnapped. Not that I want to be abducted by some strange old man or anything, I just imagine it to be a pretty awesome experience.
Still not being able to sleep, I roll myself a cig. Mikey stole my last packet, so I'm having to live off baki until I can be bothered to go out and buy some more. That will proberbly be a while yet. It's not often I put up with going outside. Scramblng around the couch, I try to find a lighter. I know there is one here somewhere, I saw it yesterday. I check under the cusions, but with there is no sign of it anywhere. With a sigh, I give up. I guess this means I'll have to use my energy to actually get up and fetch the matches from the cupboard.
The cupboard is on the far side of the room, so I heave myself off the couch and stumble over toward it. Digging through the piles of crap I've stored inside, I find the small box. I pull it out and slide it open. Not many left. I strike one against the side of the box then spark my cig up. Instantly, I feel more relaxed from the nicotine entering my system and I let myself fall onto the couch. I pick up a random comic off the floor and open it to the first page. Batman. I've read this particular issue thousands of times, and it never ceases to dissapoint me. It's comics like this that inspired me to become a comic book writer. Yeah, hell like that worked out. Breakfast Monkey wasn't exactly a huge hit either. Maybe Mom is right. I will end up just wasting my life away in this tiny apartment, slaving away and drawing pictures for the Cartoon Network.
At least Mikey has hope. That's proberly one thing I lack. I've given up on all the different careers I've wanted to take up. Hopefully, Mikey will have a break through. Or Ray, I know how much the two of them are into music. I guess I am too, but my musical talent is equal to a chipmunk's. Just to clarify, that means I'm not very good. My life is pretty much useless.
Once I've finished chain smoking about seven cigarettes, I feel sick and my eyes feel heavy. I roll over and close them, trying not to think of anything as I let myself go to sleep. Eventually, I do drift off.
Waking up the next morning isn't a very nice experience. I had forgotten to close the curtains, so I end up melting in the relentless sunlight that streams in through the huge window. Grumbling to myself, I roll over, forgetting that I'm not in my bed and fall onto the ground. "Fuck..." I groan, wincing. Great start to the day so far, Gerard, just mother fucking great. Genius kid strikes again.
Already pissed off at my own clumsyness, I go into the bathroom, hoping to compose myself. When I decide to look in the mirror, I wish I hadn't. I look disgraceful. Well, when don't I? Although, this is worse. It's a surprise that Mikey and Ray would want to come near a mess like the one I'm staring at now. When was the last time I washed my hair? It hangs low, looking longer than it usually does. It's stringy and uncomfortable, and almost looks wet. I pull a face at myself in disgust. "Ugh... no wonder you couldn't get a fucking prom date," I mumble to myself before clambering into the shower. I should stop talking to myself, It's not normal.
The shower is hot. Too hot, but I barely come in here so I have no idea how the fuck to make it colder. I don't even dare messing around with any of the many differnt knobs and buttons, so I let it scold my skin painfully as I lather myself in soap. It takes a lot of scrubbing to work through the dirt that has gathered on my skin. Wow, I really am one gross fuck up. I'm grimacing the whole way throught the cleaning progress, and then when I shampoo my hair, I manage to get a huge dollop of it in my eyes. Cursing violently, I reach out blindly trying to find a towel.
I've just decided I don't like showers.
Going back into the living room to flop out and be lazy on the couch, I grap some painkillers. I seem to have developed a nasty headache. The kind that feels like someone is stabbing you in the brain just behind your eye. Not nice. Knowing my luck, I proberbly managed to get it somehow from being in that damned shower. Can you get headaches from showers? I have no idea. The small box han't been opened yet, so I try to figure out how to get to it's contents. Eventually, I manage to swallow one and wash it down with a mouthfull of coffee.
The sky has darkened since I woke up. The contrast is much different from the bright chirpy sunlight that was flooding through before. Gray storm clouds fill the whole view out of the window, and rain is just beginning to pour. I smile. This weather is much more favourable to that of earlier this morning's. I keep watching out of the window as I get comfortable on the couch and grab a bag of chips. The large oak tree just outside the building is swinging slightly, it's branches flailing in the strong wind. I barely take note of it, but somewhere amongst the green, I see what looks like a streak of white floating in the wind