Heartbreaker Records

I sat in the worn leather chair as the tattoo artist set up, a mock-up of the design had been mapped out on my ring finger. But right now I didn’t want to think about my left hand. I looked down at my right hand which was tightly death-gripping the armrest. My white skin stretched over my knuckles. I tried not to think about the sounds the tools were making as they were laid out on the tray..
Frank’s colorful fingers brushed the back of my hand.
“Hey, Gerard. Look at me.”
I didn’t realize I had been tensing the muscles in my neck and shoulders until I tried to tilt my head. Frank was smiling at me sympathetically.
“This will be over in no time, babe.” He said softly.
The tattoo gun made a loud buzzing sound. I cringed against my own control. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my hands tightly against my chest.
“Jeeze, dude. Are you sure you wanna do this? You seem kinda tense.” The tattoo artist chuckled. He was a friend of Frank’s but I couldn’t remember his name. All I could think about was the impending pain of a needle piercing my flesh. “Do you wanna like, smoke a cigarette first?”
“Dude, if we let him smoke a cigarette he’ll never come back in here. Are you kidding?” Frank laughed.
“But I haven’t even touched him and he’s already freaking out.” the dude sighed.
“Gerard. Hey, Gerard. Look at me.”
I opened one eye. I didn’t mean to act like such a bitch, but I found myself scowling at him.
“We talked about this remember? This isn’t for nothing. We’re doing this because you love me and I love you.” He leaned forward and pecked me on the lips. “It’s such a small design, it’ll be over in no time. I promise.”

“Ok Gerard, I think I’m about ready to start. Please try to stay still. I’d hate to see such an important tattoo come out imperfectly.”
Franks fingers slid under my clenched palm.
“Squeeze my hand if it hurts.” Frank said.
“Are you ready, Gerard?” he grunted. “I’m going to turn on the gun but I won’t start until you nod okay?”
Sharp buzzing vibrations filled the air in the room. I squeezed Frank’s hand.
“Jesus Gerard, that hurts!” He chuckled. “He hasn’t even started yet and I’m pretty sure my hand’s already broken.”
The artist grabbed my hand and held it lightly in his own, positioning himself to carry out my worst fears.
“Ready?” He asked.
I clenched my teeth and nodded.
I yelped as the needle drove into my skin. A huge grin spread across Frank’s face as I stared at him, wide-eyed and horrified. My wrist twitched a little at the terrifying sensation.
It didn’t feel like needles. I was unbelievably thankful I hadn’t looked at the rig. It felt like a burning vibration pounding into my finger. Frank smiled encouragingly as I persevered.
“You’re doing so good, Gee.” He called over the din.
I felt the burning trace over places I thought he’d already done.
Each time I wanted to scream at the guy but I kept my teeth clenched.
Frank brought my free hand up to his lips and ran soft kisses along the back of my hand.
I winced as the burning dug deeper and deeper into my skin. It felt like the skin on my ring finger had been burned clean off.
The buzzing came to a stop.
“All done.” the dude said. “Not sure what you were worried about, Frankie. He did fine.”
I couldn’t believe it was over. It was so fast. He started to rub an ointment onto the tattoo. I wanted to punch him in the face. It stung, but it was starting to go numb.

“Take a look.” dude said cheerily..
I looked down to see a perfectly symmetrical heart with a tiny ‘F’ inside. Frank’s lips quickly found their way to mine. It was over, I’d survived my first tattoo. Frank was mine. I was his. Tears stung in my eyes.
I didn’t want to make out in front of a stranger and I didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger either. I turned my head to break off the kiss.
“Thanks dude.” I said weakly. “It’s perfect.”

“Now we match…” he mumbled into my ear. His breath was warm against my hair and neck. I wanted to be alone at home. I wanted to kiss him and be kissed by him.
The guy wrapped the tattoo in a bandage and offered to give me care instructions. Frank waved him off. “Look at me.” he’d said. “I think I Gerard’ll be just fine.” I’d wanted to point out that when it came to self-care, Frank was the laziest dude I knew. But all of his tattoos seemed to have healed fine, so I kept my mouth shut.

He offered to drive us home. He acted like I’d broken both my fucking hands.
I stared out the passenger side windows in silence, holding my hand protectively close to my chest. I could feel the heavy weight and permanence of Frank’s initial on my finger. I’d let him in. I’d let him all the way in. From now on he was on me, where everyone could see, even if he left.
Marriage was just a piece of paper you had to pay a lot of money to get rid of. I knew that. But this felt different. I didn’t need an inky scar on my hand or a piece of paper to make it real.

I slid my hand onto his thigh. He didn’t take his eyes off the road but the smile on his face widened. One of his hands slid off the steering wheel and ghosted little lines on my wrist. The last rays of the afternoon sun cast across his face in an orange glow.

When we’d made it back to our apartment, he ran around the car to open the door for me.
I stepped out, “I appreciate the chivalry, Frankie. But I’m ok, I swear.”
“You were being such a baby… I just thought you could use some pampering.” he chuckled.
I pressed a kiss to his forehead.

I followed him up the stairs. He disappeared down the hallway once we got inside.
The apartment was still warm from the sunny day, though the sun had long since set.
I wandered into the kitchen and absentmindedly reached for the bottle of vodka I had stashed in the freezer. I sighed as I held it in my hands. I probably shouldn’t. Not with Frank like this. I put it back in it’s resting place and stood over the sink.
I started to unwrap the bandage on my finger.
I stared at the glistening, swollen skin.
“I can’t believe you actually got a tattoo.” Frank murmured from the doorway.
“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” I said. I was immediately received with a dramatic eye roll.
“You wouldn’t even go inside the tattoo parlor with me the last time I got something done.” He said, pretending to sound hurt.
That’d been a long time ago and I’d been married to someone who had a lot of tattoos since then… But I didn’t feel like talking about her.
“I still think it’s painful and terrifying.” I pulled him into my arms. “I have no idea how you have so many.”
I buried my face in his hair. He reached for my hand and gently poked at the skin surrounding the tattoo.
“You know, I feel like Bob and I mighta made a bet about whether you’d ever get a tattoo or not. Guess that guys owes me money. I owe him a call.” He laughed.
“Come on.” He said, pulling on my wrist and dragging me towards our room with a hungry expression.

~~~~~~~~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~~~~ ~ ~

I awoke from a bad dream in the middle of the night. I couldn’t remember much about it. Something about my car not starting in the dead of winter.

I got up and headed for the kitchen, where I knew I’d left my cigarettes. I pushed open the kitchen window and sat on the counter. I lit one and sucked in a long drag.
The breeze coming in through the window gave me chills. I reached for Frank’s oversized leather jacket, folded over one of the stools. I liked wearing it because it smelled like him. A rattling came from one of the pockets as I shrugged it over my shoulders.
I held the cigarette between my lips and reached in.
My heart sank as I pulled out an orange bottle of pills. Oxys by the look of it.

I stared blankly at the bad omen in my hands. It was such a blatant reminder that Frank was sick. I couldn’t decide if I was mad or not.
I lied.
I was totally mad. He was supposed to be getting better and this was the opposite of better.

“Godammit, Frank.” I whispered under my breath. I inhaled sharply on my cigarette, suddenly needing it more than I had when I woke up.

I rolled the bottle in my hand, listening to the pills slide against each other. My brain froze. My mind, a resounding “No. This isn’t happening. No no no no no no no.”

Why hadn’t he just told me he was struggling with staying clean? Why didn’t he trust me? I put the pills back into the pocket and slid the coat off my shoulders. If he couldn’t stay away from the pills he would still be safer if he told me.............

Losing Frank Iero had been the cause of so many sleepless nights.
I'd never realized that getting him back would lead to so many more.

Notes

hi.
sorry it took me an actual month to write this mediocre update.
sorry sorry sorry
follow me on tumblr: postmortemdecorum

kisses,
marcia dethhhhhh
(intentially w/o the a, haha)
DETHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH