Heartbreaker Records

I looked from my clenched fist, to Mikey, to the slammed apartment door.
My hand hurt, which meant Frank’s face probably hurt even more.
This wasn’t the first time we’d gotten into an argument that had escalated to physical violence. Back in the day punching each other in the face was just how we argued.
But this was different. I knew it. My brother knew it.
The resulting silence in the room was deafening.

Mikes broke it. He turned to pull on his coat.
“You know something, Gerard? If someone asked me for advice on how to manage a relapsing drug addict, what you just did is maybe the opposite of what I would tell them to do.”
“I don’t know what came over me. I just-” I trailed off, shaking my head.
Mikey took a deep breath.
“Look Gee, I love you. You’re my brother. And I love Frank, he’s one of my oldest friends. But I have to be honest here. I am sick of you guys doing this shit. Over the past decade, I’ve never been able to tell if you’re... relationship or whateveryouwannacallit, is beneficial for either of you. It looks so toxic. You either need to figure out a way to smooth it all out or just get the fuck away from each other…””

I’d never really thought about how everything impacted Mikey. It was probably shitty to watch the decade-long soap opera between Frank and Gerard unfold - so much drama and drugs and psychosis. A new layer of guilt fell over me.
“I want to smooth it out, M. I love him.” I choked out.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Frank.
It rang twice before he picked up.
“Fuck. Off.” He spat and quickly hung up.

I reached up and swiped a tear off my cheek.
“What the fuck is on your hand?” Mikes reached for my hand and studied the small design. “Oh… this is… oh.”
More tears spilled over my lids.
“Come on.” Mikes said gently, passing me my jacket. He grabbed his car keys off the counter.
“He could be anywhere… how are we gonna find him?” I moaned.
“Well we’re certainly not going to find him by crying in your kitchen.” Mikey chuckled, equal parts sarcastic and sweet.

We left the apartment unlocked and drove around looking for Frank. A dusting of snow had fallen on the neighborhood. I called for my fiance out of the passenger window and into the night. My hands were numb from the cold. My tears froze to my cheeks, making them icy and clammy.
After 45 minutes I was starting to really worry. I tried calling him again. It rang twice and went to voicemail; he was ignoring my calls.
“Frankie. It’s freezing out here. Please come home. I love you.” I pleaded into his voicemail box.

We checked back at the apartment twice, but after another hour there was still no sign of him. He was going to get so sick if he stayed out in the cold like this.

“We should split up.” I suggested. “I’ll go on foot, you keep driving around.” I slid out of the car.
“I’ll call you if I find him.” Mikes called through the open window, I nodded at him before he sped down the street.
I wandered down the familiar streets of my neighborhood, trying to guess where he would go. He wasn’t in his right mind, but then again, neither was I. The alcohol haze had faded completely.
I called and called but he never picked up. He just let it ring. The batteries in my phone were starting to run low.
You deserve this. I told myself.

I wandered into the park at the end of the block. There were footprints all through the park from people who walked their dogs at night. Shoeprints partnered by pawprints zigzagged all over the frosty fields, along the pathways, into the groves of trees.
I sauntered into the playground and dropped onto the swing set. I tried calling Frank again but this time it went straight to voicemail. Great. Now Frank’s phone was dead.
It was freezing out, it was getting late. I just wanted to be asleep in bed with Frank. Not worrying where the fuck he was because I’d punched him in the fucking face.
I swung back and forth listening to the screech of the rusty metal.

My ears pricked up at the sound of slurred, whiny singing.
I’m trying, I’m trying
To let you know just how much you mean to me
And after
All the things we put each other through
“Frank?!” I called out, jumping off the swing and scanning around for him.
And I would drive on to the end with you
A liquor store or two, keeps the gas tank full~
I followed the sound of his voice. In the the dark I could make out a silhouette laying under the jungle gym.
“Frank!”
I ducked under the playground and pulled him into a hug.
“Am I dead? Is this hell? Heaven?” He murmured quietly as I ran kisses along the side of his face.
“No. Frankie you’re- I’m-” I stammered, resolving with: “Let’s just get you home.”

I called Mikes, who arrived in minutes. I helped Frank up and lead him to the car. He was delirious and strung out on god-knows-what. He crawled into the backseat, I slid in after him, never letting go of him; I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his icy hair.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” I kept telling him quietly over and over.
In the passing streetlights I could see the swelling on Frank’s face. I’d only punched him once, but I’d hit him hard. The upper-left side of his face was pink and swollen. His eyes were puffy from crying. His pupils were blown out from whatever he’d taken.
He was a total mess and it was all my fault.
Mikes drove us back to our apartment and uneasily said his goodnights after we got Frank under a pile of blankets in our bed. He must have noticed Frank was acting weird because before he disappeared out the door he pulled me into the hall.
“Gerard, if he gets worse I want you to call me okay?” He demanded under his breath. “You don’t have to deal with this on your own.”
“But Mikes, earlier you said that y-”
“I know what I said, Gee, but right now Frank needs us.”
“Ok. I’ll call you.”
“Be safe, ok?”
“Ok, mom.” I echoed.
He smiled warily before heading out into the night.

I headed back to the bedroom to face the damage I’d inflicted on my checked-out fiancee.
I perched on the edge of the bed and leaned over to peer into his face.
“Frankie? How’s your eye?”
“It hurt at first… but it’s fine now. I feel nothing.” he said flatly, not looking at me.
I traced the side of his face with my fingertips. He winced at my touch and his eyes filled with tears. “I’m really sorry.” He whispered.
“You’re sorry?” I laughed nervously. “What the fuck are you sorry for, Frank? I’m the one that fucking hit you.”
“But I make you crazy. I know I do.” Tears streamed down his puffy face. “That’s why I can’t stand to be sober. I can’t deal with what I do to you. I’m such a fucking nightmare.”
I slid into my place next to him and pulled him into my arms. “Let’s talk about this when you’re sober.” I told him gently. He nodded and pressed his face into my shoulder.
“I love you so much. I’m sorry I’m such a fucking idiot psychopath trainwreck.” He mumbled.

I opened my mouth to speak but he pulled my face closer to his and kissed me hard.

And that was all I needed to know I’d been forgiven. He slid on top of me and pressed his hips against mine. His lips trailed kisses down my throat.
He paused to suck on my neck. “Do you remember on tour how we used to always sneak off and fuck...” he growled seductively against my skin. Like it was something I could forget.
Everywhere his skin touched mine screamed forgiveness. Everywhere my skin touched his begged for apology.
“I could lose myself in afternoons like those forever, Gerard.” He continued seductively, undoing the buttons on my shirt. It was alarming how his addiction clawed at me, trying to suck me in to endless weeks of lovemaking and pill popping.
Fuck telling him it was wrong to want it. I knew what it was like to want it. I slid my hand up his thigh, palming over his tightening jeans. He pulled his shirt over his head.
“I don’t need drugs, Frankie.” I moaned as he worked at the button on my jeans. “You’re enough.”

Notes

hi everyone.

leave me something nice ; )

-Marcia