Heartbreaker Records

I told Mikey that I was going to need a few hours of sleep before we cleaned out Frank’s apartment but now that I was actually laying in bed, sleep just wasn’t coming for me. I hadn’t really slept since he was hospitalized and I don't know why I thought I was going to be able to now. I guess in reality I just wanted to be alone. Mikey probably knew that.
After an hour of staring at the ceiling I finally gave up and got out of bed.

I lit a cigarette and turned the coffee machine on, staring blankly at the kitchen around me. It looked so empty without Frank in it, even though he had only been in it a few times. I sort of knew this would happen if I let him in. Even if he died he’d never leave my mind. He’d never leave my apartment. My place was officially haunted by my former lover.
I flicked the ashes of my cigarette into the sink.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and texted Mikey. I wasn’t going to sleep and I wanted to help Frank so I needed to get this over with. Mikes and I had talked about it already. We decided to divide Frank’s stuff up between our places. I’d take all his clothes, guitars and records. Mikey would hold onto the furniture, since his apartment building had a storage unit.

By the time I got to Frank’s apartment Mikey was already waiting outside for me with cardboard boxes and trash bags.
“You look like shit.” he said plainly as I stepped out of the car.
“I feel like shit.” I responded mechanically.
“Are they gonna let you see him yet?”
“No.” I choked.
“Did they say when?”
“They won’t fucking tell me anything… I’m so worried about him, Mikey.” He pulled me into a hug.
My eyes burned. I’d been crying so much, tears didn’t even come anymore.
“Gee, are you sure you want to do this? Ray’s already upstairs cleaning up... You really don’t have to do this.”
“I want to help him...”
“Ok, dude. But if this gets to be too hard I want you to go home.” He folded a cardboard box and handed it to me. “Why don’t you sort through his paperwork. There’s a lot of like, bills and shit in the kitchen. Should be easy enough. Might help him sort his shit out once he’s released...”
Mikes was trying hard to be gentle but an edge of darkness clouded his voice. He was unbelievably mad about this, I could tell.

We made our way up the stairs. I hadn’t gotten the chance to really look at the place before. It looked completely un-lived in. The smell of cigarette smoke and incense hung faintly in the air.
“Gerard!” Ray shouted cheerily the second he saw me. He hugged me gently. “Haven’t seen you in forever, dude! How-” He stopped himself from asking how I’d been and smiled weakly.
“I’d actually been doing pretty great before this week. How you been?” I said, smiling sadly.
“Oh. You know, good. Been doing some recording...”
Ray was so fucking awkward. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the dude until I saw his awkward, nervous face. I could basically see his brain struggling for words. He wasn’t so good with emotional shit. A smile crept its way onto my face.
“So uh…” he continued. “I’ve actually made pretty good progress. Seems like Frank never moved in fully. A lot of his clothes and stuff was still in boxes. There’s a lot of art on the walls, though… Posters and stuff. The dude definitely loves his art…” He motioned around the room.
The walls were covered in framed posters. Intricate screenprints, tour posters from band’s we’d toured with, some even looked like his own drawings. Ray resumed carefully putting things in boxes.
I headed towards the kitchen, just like Mikey said, a huge pile of papers was scattered across the counter. I dropped onto a barstool and started to sort through the envelopes. Bills, bills, royalties from warner brothers. I tossed it all into the box Mikey had given me.
A document stood out from the others, I pulled it out from under a stack of opened envelopes.

Divorce papers.

Divorce papers? He had these and he hadn’t signed them? I can’t say if I choked on the air or if I just forgot how to breathe it. Mikey was right. This was too much. I quickly pulled all of the other envelopes off the counter and shoved them into the box, burying the divorce papers.
I grabbed the box and stepped into the living room.
“Mikes… you were right.” My voice sounded strange. It didn’t sound like me.
“Hey, that’s totally ok, Gee. You’re going through a lot. Wanna meet me and Ray for a drink later??” Mikey said softly. Ray shot me a sympathetic grin.
“I… would like that…” I said, practically running out of the apartment.


Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My thoughts were racing. Why would he-? If he wanted to be with me then why didn’t he-? Maybe he didn’t want to be with me? I was just convenient. Easy game. He knew I was in love with him so he could predict everything I would say and do. I shoved the box in the back seat and got in the car. I tried to take a deep breath.

This was bigger than us. It had taken me forever to sign those damn papers myself. It had been the final nail in the coffin for me and Lindsey.
In spite of everything I hadn’t even tried to take things slow with him at all. What was I doing going along with a married-with-kids druggie? I had literally tried to fuck a married dude. A married dude that still wore his ring. We had definitely been taking things too fast.

But the dude in question was my long lost Frankie. The boy of my dreams. I needed to see him, to talk to him. I was so confused. I drove home nervously, having a hard time focusing on the road.
I stepped into my apartment and dropped onto the sofa. Nothing sounded good. Not getting drunk. Not a steaming cup of coffee. Not drawing. Not cigarettes. This was worse than the initial post-Frank depression that had settled in when the band broke up.

I don’t know why I was so determined to torture myself but I started spinning an old MCR record. The first couple measures of Helena washed over me, a tide of emotions rising with them. I didn’t feel like drinking but I poured myself a glass of straight whiskey anyways. I stared into the room helplessly, entirely unsure what I should do with myself, and tried to muster up the willpower to take a sip. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I all but ripped it out of my pocket. I reached for the volume knob to turn the music down.

“H-hello?”
“Gerard?”
“Frankie, hey. How are you doing? Are you okay?”
“I’m alright. Withdrawal’s a bitch… and I miss you.” He chuckled.
“It’s so good to hear your voice, Frank. I’ve been so fucking worried...”
“Will you come see me then?”
“The doctors won’t let me. I’ve been trying to see you for days.” I moaned.
“They said I could have visitors if I was good and took all the pills they gave me... I've been good...”
“I’ll head over there right now, ok? I’ll see you real soon.” I pulled the phone away from my ear to hang up.
“Gee, Wait…”
A sinking feeling gathered in my chest, I brought it back to my ear. “Uhhh… ya?”
“I uh… I love you. So much. I’m so sorry about all this.”
I swallowed hard. “I love you too.” I mumbled, quickly hanging up before he could detect how upset I was. I didn’t want him to know I loved him. I wanted it to be a secret. My tired eyes watered. Fuck this.
I flicked the switch on the turntable and watched the record stop spinning. I slowly pulled on my jacket, abandoning my glass of un-sipped whiskey.

I drove to the hospital in a daze. A nurse brought me to Frank’s room. It could have been 5 years, it could have been 10 minutes. He looked up from novel he’d been reading when he heard the door squeak. It looked like a tattered collection of H.P. Lovecraft stories. He was thinner and paler than ever, partially obscured by white hospital blankets. The tattoos on his arms jumped out of his white skin much more vividly in the white of the hospital room. His eyes lit up as soon as he saw me.
The nurse quietly told me that visiting hours ended at 5:00. I sat at the foot of his bed. Frank tackled me as soon as the door clicked shut, pushing me down into the scratchy white blankets.
“Gerard. I don’t even know where to start. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking- I guess I wasn’t. But now you’re here and we can-... Fuck, I just want to kiss you.”
I turned my head, just barely dodging his lips. His soft lips connected with my cheek. It felt nice. I wanted to kiss him, but we couldn’t go on like this.
“Hey! What gives? You saved my life and I can’t even thank you properly?” He teased.
“Frank, we need to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk, Gee. We have the rest of our lives to talk.” He was making his voice do this adorable fake-grumpy thing. He leaned in to try and kiss me again. I gently pushed him away and sat up.
“I mean it, Frankie. We need to talk. I want to pretend everything is perfect, too, but it’s not. Everything is really fucked up. You’re in the hospital for drug abuse and attempted suicide not to mention you were evicted. Plus I’m begging our boss to let you keep your job. I’m sorry to be such a downer, but I don’t get how you’re being so cheery about this…”
“Well, I have you, don’t I?” he said softly. “We can finally be together like you always wanted.”
“That’s the worst part, Frankie...” I gently caressed his cheek. “You’re still married.”
“I’m getting a divorce, though, Gee. I’ll sign the papers as soon as I get them...”

I sighed. I didn’t know if he was in denial or on some weird meds to dull the withdrawal symptoms or what, but this was gonna be harder than I thought.
“You already have the papers, Frank. Why haven’t you signed them?”
The sparkle in his eyes dulled. “How did you……..” he trailed off.
“I’m sorry. I stumbled across them when I was helping to clear out your apartment.”
“Gerard… I don’t know what to say.” He turned his face away.
“I’m not mad at you, Frankie. I’ve been through it, too. I know it’s hard.”
“Then what’s the problem?” He turned his face back, looking into my eyes, cupping my face. A pouty frown tugged at his lips.
“I just…We just need to take things slow. Before I found those papers I was going to ask you to move in with me. But I haven’t been thinking clearly.”
“Gee, I don’t wanna take it slow.” He paused. “I guess there’s no use in trying to surprise you…” His eyes darted to his lap. “ I was gonna propose to you as soon as I got out of here...”
My heart stopped, my eyes widened. For the second time that day I don’t know if I forgot how to breathe or if the air suddenly became thick enough to choke on.
“What?” I whispered. I felt my face get hot.
“You really had no idea? Damn, I shouldn’t have told you yet...”
“Frankie…” I exhaled his name gently.
“Does this mean you’ll let me fucking kiss you now?” He chuckled, inching closer to me.
I was completely frozen. How had I never thought about marrying him? I guess I hadn’t wanted to torture myself with something that seemed so impossible.
“Gee? Hey. Are you okay?” He was still grinning, but his brows knit into a concerned expression. “We don’t have to get married if you don’t want to.” he said softly.
I snapped out of my trance. “How the fuck can you even say that?” I growled, leaning in to kiss him long and slow. His shaky hand reached up and caressed my cheek. I gently pushed him down onto the hospital bed.
“Is that a… yes?” He asked as if afraid to press any further.
“Yes.” I whispered against his lips. “But this has to be our little secret.”
He looked hurt, he opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off.
“Frankie, our boss will fire both of us if he finds out I’m crazy enough to be making marriage arrangements with my suicidal, drug-addicted ex-bandmate that he just hired...” I fought back a laugh. It all sounded like the punchline to a deeply unfunny joke.
“Yeah… ok.” He whispered, burying his face in my chest and inhaling deeply. “Can we at least tell Mikey?”
The door to his room squeaked open.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the nurse informed, “but visiting hours are over, Mr. Way.”
“We can tell Mikey together. I’ll come back tomorrow, after work.” I told him, kissing him one last time before following the nurse out of the room.

Notes

hi buddies.

yesterday was a very sad day for all of us. mcr's greatest hits album was released for pre-order. i got it, mostly for the "THANK YOU FOR THE VENOM" tee.
i've been going between "completely unable to eat" and... "eating my weight in mac n cheese." i'm very stressed out and sad. i can't believe it's real. this pre-order was this kind of... terrible reminder that it's not all just a bad dream. they're actually over. leaving nothing in their wake. (well, nothing but our broken hearts...)

anyways,
stay strong! mcr fanblogs have been getting me through this difficult time.

thanks for reading. comment/rate/subscribe

ciao,
saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad girl