Heartbreaker Records

“I don’t see how you can love me...” He said dryly.
I could practically taste the bitterness he felt. There was this enormous pool of sorrow and anger deep within Frank. I’d always known it was there. I had to pause and remind myself that the acidity in his voice wasn’t meant to be directed at me. I just happened to be here now, and the emotions inside of him were too much to handle. They were spilling over, flooding his mind.
I held his hand tightly, searching for reassuring words.

I wondered if Mikey had ever told Frank about my own suicide attempts that followed in his absence. In some ways, the pain that came with loving him was no match for the sheer beauty that came with it.
There were so many days after the band broke up where I would just sit around wishing I would die. Killing myself seemed like too much work. I was afraid. Afraid it would hurt. Afraid of what it would do to my parents. Afraid of what it might do to Mikey.
Even if I couldn’t bring myself to die... there were still just so many dark days where nothing made sense and nothing seemed worth fighting for. I wanted to die just to spite him. Just so he knew how much I was suffering without him.
But it was on those days that there’d be this tiny voice that told me not to give up just yet. If I could fall in love with Frank, then maybe there was someone else out there somewhere that could do what Frank did to me.
If I died I’d never know if anyone else could take his place. I’d never know if I could fall in love again. And that was enough to keep me the hell away from razor sharp edges and bottles of prescription pills. The promise of a love as deep as ours was enough to get me through it.

I’d find myself looking for him in other people. I’d date girls who would look at me with that same expression he’d always given me. Girls who could peer over my shoulder into my drawings without feeling the need to say something about them. I’d hang around people who liked the same bands he did. I’d hang around guitarists who preferred vodka to gin. Whatever it took to find little pieces of Frank Iero in other people.
It wasn’t the same, of course, but sometimes it was just enough to satiate the aching feeling in my chest.
I’d look up from my drink at some party Mikey had dragged me to and wonder where he was. If he missed me, if he even remembered me. I’d shake my head, swallowing the rest of the cup and go find some way to put on a band that Frank Iero didn’t like.

But how could I explain that to him. How could I?
“Frank, of course I love you… I don’t know how to not love you…” I looked down at his face. His head rested peacefully in my lap. He had slipped into a deep sleep.

Frank slept for a long time. Hours and hours passed and he never stirred.

I would periodically check to make sure he wasn’t feverish. His temperature was normal but I was still worried sick. I considered calling the doctor who’d been treating him after the overdose but stopped myself when I thought about the possibility them asking me to drag Frank back there. Remembering the way he’d been earlier… I knew I couldn’t do that to him.

I involuntarily let out a huge yawn. I didn’t remember romantic involvement being so exhausting. I debated whether coffee or a good night’s sleep would be better. I looked up at the clock, it was midnight. I was definitely in need of some sleep.

I gathered Frank up in my arms and carried him to our room. I gently let him down on the bed and slid his hoodie off. I crawled under the covers with him, pulling him into my arms.
“Frankie?” I whispered.
He groaned and stretched his sleepy muscles.
“...Gerard? How’d I get in here?”
“You slept on the couch all day… I didn’t want you to wake up alone so I brought you here.”
“Oh…” He said, nuzzling into my chest.
“Is everything okay, Frank?” I whispered, stroking his hair.
“Yep. Fine. I’m just soooo...” he stifled a yawn, “tired.”
I chuckled. “Yeah… I can tell.”
“I’m sorry if…” he paused thoughtfully, looking up at me, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, “When I pictured us getting back together I didn’t see it happening like this.”
“You mean you…. thought about us getting back together? Like, before Bill hired you?” I asked, my heart fluttering.
“Are you kidding? Of course I did, Gerard.” He said, matter-of-factly. He’d woken up a little more and was staring intently into my eyes. “Fuck, I used to beg Mikey to give me your number after you moved. He wouldn’t do it. He said you needed space...” he said sourly.
“Mikey never told me about that. I didn’t even know you guys still talked... What would have been the point anyways? It’s not like we could’ve been together. Not like this.” I interlaced my fingers with his, for emphasis.
“I don’t know…” he leaned and pressed his lips against mine softly. “I mean, I missed this.” He brushed his lips across my cheek. “I missed being so close to you. Your smile, your kissing, the way you could always make me feel better when I was having a shitty day.” He sighed. “But even more than all that, I just missed being your friend.”
“Frank…” I breathed. My vision was swimming with the overwhelm of emotions.
He gave me a confused smile.
“Of course I thought about it.” He reiterated, shaking his head. “Did you really think I could just forget about you? I’m so hopelessly in love with you, Gee.”

I wanted to argue but my words were bottled in my throat by his lips. We could talk about it later. For now I had a very attractive dude sliding on top of me and nibbling at my throat.

~~~~

The next morning I couldn’t get Frank to wake up. He’d slept uneasy all night - tossing and turning and mumbling unintelligible things so I figured I’d let him sleep.

I got up and made a pot of coffee. I smiled as I put twice as much coffee grounds in the basket. I’d have to buy it twice as often, or buy twice as much. Either way I’d always need enough for 2.

I’d kind of been hoping the smell of coffee would be enough to wake him up. I brought a cup back to the bedroom and sat it on the nightstand.
“Frankie?” I rocked him a little.
He groaned and rolled over.
“Fraannnnnnnnnk.” I moaned. “Wake up, beautiful.”
“Can I sleep just a little more?” He groaned, nestling into the pillows.
“Ok… I’m going to work. Call me if you need anything.” I pushed him onto his back and kissed his lips gently.
He mumbled something else before burying his head under the covers.

He was still asleep when I got home from work. I tried to wake him up, but he just groaned and went back to sleep.
He’d been through a lot. Everyone deals with things at their own pace. Or rather, avoids dealing with things at their own pace. Maybe sleeping was just his way of coping?

I poured myself a glass of whiskey and coke, and busied myself with working on a comic I had started a little while before. I put on a record quietly to get myself into the right mood.

A few hours later and I had a good buzz going and several pages completed. I wasn’t really slowing down either. I didn’t have to go into the store tomorrow, so I planned to just keep drawing until I couldn’t anymore. I looked up at the clock...

2:03 AM.
It was 2 in the morning.

I lit a cigarette. I tried not to smoke in my drawing room, because the smell had this way of lingering and lingering forever. But sometimes it was late and it just happened. As long as I didn’t smoke more than one it would be fine.

“Gerard? Hey. How long have you been home? Why didn’t you wake me up?” Frank snaked an arm around my neck and kissed the top of my head.
“I tried to wake you when I got home at 8…”
“Sorry… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just so tired…”
I turned my head to look up at him and was met with his lips. His face was pale, his eyes were puffy from sleep.
“Maybe it’s your bed? It’s just so comfortable, I never want to leave… Have you been drinking? You smell like booze.” he chuckled, grabbing the cigarette out of my hand. He puffed it lovingly before leaning in to kiss me again.
“Yeah… I’m kinda drunk. It helps me with the story lines. Do you want a drink? Or- can you? Maybe it’s not such a good idea actually...”
“I’d love a drink but I shouldn’t…” He admitted, yawning. “Can I see what you’ve been drawing?”
He slid onto my lap and started flipping through the finished pages. He laughed at all the jokes and stared intently into the full-page panels. His fingers traced the lines that I’d spent the most time on.
I buried my face in his neck, kissing gently. My fingers slid across the skin on his hips.
“You already know this, I’m sure… but you’re so fucking good at this.”
“...Drawing or kissing?” I asked innocently.
“Both.” He laughed.
“It’s still nice to hear…”
He slid through the pages for a little while longer before he started to fade.
“I’m just so fucking tired.” He groaned.
He pulled me back to the bedroom without a word.

Notes

hey everyone,

wanted to get this up yesterday but it just didn't happen!!

i was looking at pictures of frank iero playing guitar and i am like, completely perplexed by that shit. like, how can you play in those positions? i been playing guitar for almost 8 years but i have NO IDEA how the dude like, somersaults around on the stage and still gets sound out of his guitar. what the fuck? how does he do it??!?

love u all. thanks for reading. comment/rate/subscribe~

-saaaaaadgirl