Gerard's POV

I scribbled and crossed out words on the tattered paper. The song was nearly done, just needed some sort of prologue, something to start it. Ray and Mikey were immersed in their guitars, Bob had gone, and Frank was playing the shitty piano that looked horrendous compared to our sleek glossy black one. Emma was sat, playing with her hair. I looked up at her, and she smiled back at me.
'When are we going to get home, Gee?' she asked in a soft voice. I glanced at the time; it was getting on for 8, and we'd been here since the morning. I looked down at my song and frowned.
'Um..well I-' Frank's robust frame appeared in the frame of the door that separated the recording room from the mixing space.
'I'll take her.'
'You sure?' I asked. I was wary; I knew he was jealous of me and he'd be determined to prove that Em loved him too.
She came over, and kissed me on the cheek.
'Don't be too late, okay?'
'Okay' I smiled at her, and pecked her lips lightly. I got back to my song, not thinking about her at all, just thinking of the words and emotion I had to somehow articulate. I sighed. Despite what I had told her, this night would be a long one.

Emma's POV

Frank hadn't spoken a word to me in the car on the short ride home. We walked up the stairs in silence. I couldn't work out his lack of emotion; was he angry, or just tired? It had been a long day after all. He unlocked the door with his key, walked in, and held open the door for me. I walked through, and he slammed the door shut before I could move, so I was pinned between his arm and the door.
'Now' he said as he trailed his nose along my neck and jaw, 'why are you still wearing those clothes, hm?'
Anger threatened to break through his steady tone. I'd not seen him drink, but I'd barely seen him at all today, and his breath reeked of Jack.
'No.' I didn't want to sleep with him, I wasn't in the mood.
'No? No. Well then, you bitch, looks like I'm going to have to force you.' He pulled me to the couch by my hair, the first flaw in me, the woman's long hair. He stifled my scream with his hand, repaid my bite with a hard slap that sent me into a shocked silence. He tore off my skirt and shirt.
'Stockings? You? I like those. I like those very much..' his fingers wandered up my inner thigh and I screamed again. Shocked tears leaked from the corner of my eyes and I tried to pull away, slapping and kicking him as hard as I could. I managed to land a kick in his groin, and he bent over in agony. I stood over him, feeling victorious for a moment. I should have run.
'You little cow.' He stood up and punched me in the face. I fell to the floor, and felt the hot blood slide down the side of my head. He stood over me, panting, and ripped off my panties and pushed my tits above the fabric of my bra as I lay there, dazed. He squeezed and twisted my breasts so it hurt. He shoved apart my legs.
'Not wet for me? How dare you.' He turned me over. I felt lifeless; he was stronger than me. He stamped on the back of my hand, hard, and walked to the bathroom. He came back quickly, and slid a moistened finger into my ass. He proceeded with two, three, four fingers, and seemed fascinated when he managed his fist. I lay and wept with the pain, it fucking hurt. I tried to crawl away, but he pinned my legs still with his knees. He pushed himself all the way into my ass, and rocked himself in and out, pulling the back of my hair, one hand threatening to throttle me. He came, and took a moment to compose himself. He kicked me in the head when he got up, and left me there in the middle of the room, a defenseless wreck.

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