Married In My Mind

“I’m not getting out of this bed.” I protested.
“Why not, Gee?” Bert drawled. He wrapped a hand around my ankle and tried to pull me off the mattress. I pulled out of his grasp and tucked my legs under myself, curling up into a little ball.
“What’s the point?” I mumbled into the fabric of my sweatshirt.
“You’re being awful dramatic, you know that?” He chuckled, flopping back onto the bed beside me. He pulled the blanket over our us and smirked at me in the dim. “You really don’t even wanna hear what I had in mind?”
“My life is over. I’m allowed to be dramatic.” I croaked. “And no, I have no interest in your revenge plot.”
“Gee, your life isn’t over. I don’t see how anything has changed at all. He wasn’t your boyfriend before and he’s not your boyfriend your boyfriend now. What’s different about your life?” Bert asked.
“A lot.” I breathed. “A lot has changed, Bert. The fact that I’m here right now is proof of that.. He loves me back, I’m mis-”
“You should just go out with me instead.” he interrupted flatly. “I could be your rebound.”
I stared at him hard, trying to read his face.
“Bert… I’m…” I mumbled, letting the shock was over me. “I’m a fucking mess right now and-”
“A hot mess.” Bert laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just wanted to see the look on your face. I know where we stand...”
I blinked at him. Confusion and shock and misery all fighting for the center of the stage in my brain.
“You’re an asshole.” I groaned.
“Yes.” Bert agreed, “But okay... I was kind of serious. You should pretend to be my boyfriend, Gee.”
“This is your scheme to get back at Frank, isn’t it?” I asked wearily.
“You bet it is.” Bert smiled. “Come on, dude. I won’t even make you meet my psycho parents or anything.”
“Why on Earth do you think this is a good idea?” I asked.
“Think of how pissed Frankie would be.” He smirked, rolling towards me and wrapping an arm around my middle.
“Bert…” I sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Okay… Forget Frank for a second.” He continued, “It might get those press vultures off your back, right?”
“How?” I breathed.
“Damage control, baby.” Bert smirked, “Right now you’ve given ‘em a whole lot to write about. Everyone found out about your fanfics and you relapsed and-”
“Don’t call them fanfics.” I interrupted with a groan. “Oh my god.”
“Stories. God, whatever.” Bert said. “Anyways, you and Frank are obviously on bad terms. If that information gets into the wrong hands, Gee, that’s just gasoline on the fire…. so all I’m saying if you just make it really publicly obvious that you’ve moved the fuck on and your band is doing fine then there’s nothing for them to write about.”
“I’m not following.” I mumbled.
“If you walk around pretending you’re all happy with your new boyfriend it’s like saying ‘fuck you’ to the whole situation.”
Bert’s eyes were wide and shiny and full of evil hopefulness.
“Just… go out with me a few times.” he continued. “Be seen with me. Kiss me in front of the cameras. Everyone will think that shit you wrote about Frank was nothing if you’re seeing someone else.”
I closed my eyes. Agreeing to Bert’s scheming always felt like making a deal with the devil.
“I just… I don’t know.” I said, honestly.
“Come on, Gee.” Bert cooed. “It’ll be fun.”
“Okay… maybe. But just a few times.”
“Great! Get the fuck out of bed!” Bert yelled, darting forward and planting a sloppy wet kiss on my nose. “I’m going to be the best boyfriend. You have no idea!” An evil laugh escaped his lips.
Suddenly Bert was ripping the blankets and leaping across the room to pick up his phone.
“I know of a few parties going on tonight that we could totally hit up and-” Bert mumbled excitedly to himself, tapping away at his phone.
I sat there with the blankets pooled in my lap, watching Bert scheme. Bert wasn’t bad necessarily, but he was definitely evil.
“Okay… so back to getting you dressed up.” He said, spinning towards me and surveying my appearance.
A nervous feeling settled in my chest. Nervousness or perhaps regret, as I wondered what the fuck I had actually just agreed to.
“If you don’t get out of my bed, Gee, I swear to God…” he threatened openly. I shuffled towards the edge of the bed and swung my feet off.
“Happy?” I asked, tucking my hair behind my ear and smiling weakly.
“No. Up!” He scolded, taking my hands in his and lifting me off the bed. The blood rushed to my head, making little dots swim in my vision.
“Okay… Now spin for me.” Bert tutted. Chewing his lip and considering my clothes.
I held my arms out and turned slowly, letting out a dramatic sigh.
It would be an understatement to say that my appearance had gone downhill over the last couple of weeks. Being with Frank, taking care of Frank, keeping my band together, keeping myself together… all of those things had come before stuff like laundry or touching up my roots. I hadn’t really thought about it until Bert said we had to dress up.
“Mmmmm. I like the jeans. They’re… tight in all the right places.” Bert commented. “But I don’t know about the shirt. Take that one off.”
I pulled the shirt off and dropped it on the floor.
Bert spun around and flipped through the garments on hangers in his closet, humming to himself thoughtfully. He produced a tattered metal shirt. I couldn’t read the band name in the intricate font, but a faded green goblin sat atop a mountain of skulls. I pulled it over my head. There were holes all over the shirt.
“Bert I can’t go out in this.” I said, poking my fingers through one of the holes.
“Why not? Cause of all the holes?” Bert asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. “It’s called the ‘distressed’ look and it works great on pale model-boys like you.”
“But, it’s also like… winter?” I said.
“Well I’m going to give you something to put over it obviously.” Bert sighed, rolling his eyes. “I just have to find one that’ll fit over your shoulders.”
He resumed flipping through his clothes, settling on a plain oversized black cardigan.
I pulled it on and turned around to look at myself in the mirror. I felt better somehow.
“Sit down, I’m wanna touch up your eyeliner.” Bert instructed.
I perched on the edge of his bed with my hands folded in my lap.
He pulled a box out of somewhere and rifled through it. He produced a black eyeliner pencil and stepped towards me.
“So… I know you told me not to… but I sort of… did some research...” Bert said, brow furrowed in concentration. His stale cigarette breath washed over my face as he brought the eyeliner pencil to my lower lid.
“On?” I asked, trying not to twitch against the prodding sensation of the pencil.
“So... there’s this thing called ‘shipping’ and-”
“Oh my god we are not talking about this.” I grumbled, jerking my head back.
“Hold still. You’re gonna make me mess up.” He scolded, moving the pencil along my upper lid.
“What do you want to know?” I asked begrudgingly, heaving a deep sigh.
“Well okay…” Bert continued happily. “So… you and Frankie. That’s an example of a ‘ship’. It’s got a name. It’s ‘Ferard.’ Only, I don’t know if that’s the correct pronunciation?”
“There’s not really a correct way, since it’s more commonly typed than spoken.” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up.”
“Makes sense…” Bert mused. “Did you know that some people ship us?”
He moved to my other eye, sliding the eyeliner pencil along with practiced movements.
“Yeah… I did.” I said softly.
“How come you didn’t tell me?” He asked, letting out a breathy laugh.
“I don’t know… It never came up. I don’t like talking about that stuff... It’s embarrassing.” I shrugged.
“Don’t move.” He scolded again, pulling the pencil away to observe his work. “I mean… what’s so bad about it, Gee? Honestly? Some people do way worse things. What you’ve done hasn’t hurt anyone… except maybe you. Could be worse. A lot worse. You could be addicted to drugs like me. You could be a murderer. You could-”
“But I ruined Frank’s relationship.” I pointed out. “Frank got hurt.”
“You didn’t do that.” Bert said, tilting my chin up and turning my head back and forth slowly. He brought the pencil back to my eye to touch up a spot he had missed.
“What do you mean? Frank and Jamia broke up because of what I did.”
“I don’t believe that.” Bert argued. “You’re um, involved with Frank so it’s probably hard for you to see things subjectively… but there’s no way that writing out a few of your daydreams destroyed their relationship. And even if that was the case, which, again, there’s no way, if something that small broke them up they shouldn’t have been together anyways.”
I smiled weakly, considering Bert’s words.
“Anyways. Enough about Frank. So there’s Frerard,” Bert said with a smirk, still rolling the word on his tongue like it tasted funny, “and then there’s Gerbert... so that means people ship us, right?”
“That’s what that means, yes.” I said softly, trying not to move my face as Bert moved on to applying white face powder over my cheekbones.
“I just don’t understand the concept, I guess? If I like someone does that mean that I ship myself with that person?”
“If you’re a fucking nerd maybe.” I mumbled through pursed lips as he slid the brush over my jawline. I wanted to point out that he should’ve done the powder before the eyeliner but I kept my mouth shut.
“I don’t get it.” Bert sighed.
“I think ‘shipping’ exists more in the realm of fiction... “ I said, blushing, “The term isn’t really meant to be applied elsewhere.”
He laughed and shook his head, moving on to put product in my hair.
“Just a little volume.” He mumbled to himself, squinting as he tousled my hair, humming softly. His fingers ghosted over my neck.
“Did Frankie do this to you?” He asked, smirking and staring at what remained of the bruises littering my neck.
I’d almost forgotten about the fading hickies. They served as a reminder that Frank had been all over me. My breath caught in my throat at the remembered sensation of his lips on my skin...

“No one’s going to fucking believe it was me.”

“I’m gonna make you all mine and I don’t fucking care who knows.”

“Sorry I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Bert whispered, brushing his thumb against the corner of my eye. I didn’t even realize I’d teared up.
He took a step back and bit his lip in thought.
“You look good, Gee.” He said earnestly, smiling. “Let me get myself all pretty and then we’ll go.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“That’s for me to know.” He singsonged with an evil smirk on his face. “Relax, okay? We’re not going anywhere fun.”
~

Bert had promised over and over that Frank wasn’t going to be where we were going. I wasn’t sure if he was being honest with me or not, but I refused to leave his apartment until he promised. That way if Frank was there I could at least be mad at him for breaking his promise.
He told me some of Frank’s friends might be there, which, he said, didn’t mean Frank would be there.
The car drove through a part of the city that looked semi-familiar. I recognized the buildings we drove past in a vague sort of way. All of manhattan looked the same, though, really.
“So… just make a left up at the next light.” Bert told the cabbie. The guy nodded silently and changed the radio station. The music was too quiet to really make out in the back of the car.
“I feel sick.” I mumbled.
“Just look out the window and focus on things that are far away.” Bert said softly, squeezing my hand.
“I’m afraid of seeing Frank again… I’m not carsick.” I laughed.
“Well If you focus on things that are far away you won’t see Frank, even if he’s right in front of you.” Bert pointed out. “Which he won’t be. He’s not gonna be where we’re going.”
“How can you be so sure?” I asked, taking Bert’s advice and looking out the window. “Where are we going?”
“Frank doesn’t care about parties.” he said.
“He’s not exactly predictable.” I said.
“True. Which is weird, cause assholes like him usually are...” Bert shrugged. “But he hates sceney shit. He won’t be a problem for us. I promise.”
Bert paid the cab driver and pulled me out of the car by the hand. I stepped onto the littered sidewalk, wind-whipping around me. Everything was lit up, casting neon glows against every surface.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked as Bert held open the door for me.
“It was my idea, wasn’t it?” Bert pointed out, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, yeah, but-”
“We’re already here. Let’s just have a good time, yeah?” Bert said quietly, stepping in after me. “We can leave whenever you want. Just say the words.”
I nodded and looked up at the room full of people. All of them had drinks in their hands.
I told myself to act natural but I couldn’t seem to remember what Gerard Way would naturally do. It was disorienting, everyone and everything was moving too fast. I wanted a drink, just to slow everything down.
“Can I get you a drink?” Bert asked, brandishing a private smirk.
“Mmmm, diet coke please.” I nodded, smiling shyly. He squeezed my shoulder and disappeared into the people crowded around the bar. I gazed around the room, not recognizing any of the faces staring back at me. That crippling paranoia that they knew about my writing set in pretty quickly.
I tried to think about the fics as very public daydreams, as Bert had put it. It helped a little. I still wanted to retreat to a quiet bedroom with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a marathon of bad daytime television for the next decade. I glanced over at a girl who was staring at me with a curious look on her face. Two decades, maybe. Long enough for half of the people in the room to have died off, moved away or become irrelevant.
I stared at my feet, wishing the place wasn’t so fucking well-lit. I felt vulnerable and exposed, even if it was all in my head.
“Hey Gerard.” a voice said. I glanced up to find Bert’s bandmate, Jepha, staring back at me. “Glad you guys made it. You already look like you could use a cigarette.” Jepha commiserated, tilting his head towards a door leading to an outdoor area.
“You have no idea.” I nodded. “I’m, um, waiting for Bert, he’s just-”
“Don’t worry, your boyfriend will find us.” Jeph smirked, clasping a hand over my shoulders and steering me towards the door.
“My- Oh! Um. Okay.” I stammered, realizing Jepha must be in on it.
“Real smooth, Gee.” Jeph laughed. “Totally convincing.”
“Sorry, I’m going to have to work on that aren’t I?” I mumbled.
“Not necessarily.” Jeph hummed. “You’ve always been fucking awkward, Way. You start acting all eloquent and people might get confused.”
I was surprised Bert had told his band already. He hadn’t mentioned telling anyone. It was nice, I supposed, that Jepha was in on our scheming.

Bert found us smoking outside on the patio a few moments later. He passed me my drink and lit a cigarette for himself. When he pushed the smoke out of his lungs he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
“You don’t have to do that when no one’s around.” I whispered against his ear, out of Jepha’s range of hearing.
“You never know who’s watching, Gee... Besides, you’re too pretty. Maybe you should’ve worn different jeans...” Bert leered softly, taking a sip of his drink. “
He must’ve interpreted my lack of words as disapproval because his face went from smug to apologetic.
“I’m only teasing, Gee. Don’t freak out.” He said softly, squeezing my shoulder.
“I know” I assured smiling weakly.
What Bert didn’t know was that he had demonstrated what Frank was trying to explain when he’d said he didn’t want to see me anymore. Frank had never made me feel so wanted. Not out in public anyways. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to.
And it was nice to feel wanted…
The thought had me comparing and overanalyzing every difference between Frank and Bert in the hour or so that followed. The time just sort of passed as I considered the differences between the one guy who was off limits and all the other people on earth who weren’t. Bert kept his hand on my lower back, on my shoulder, on my wrist, as we went around the party talking to people he knew. They would smile or raise their eyebrows whenever Bert leaned in to kiss me on the cheek or whisper something in my ear. Just as he’d said, we ended up in a lot of pictures together.
I wished it was Frank beside me, kissing me gently and leaving the rest of the world to wonder what it meant.
At some point I started to feel fuzzy and lightheaded. Bert had been hanging off of me in front of some music journalist he said he knew. She had asked if there were upcoming plans for My Chem and The Used to possibly tour together. Bert thought it sounded like a great idea and planted a sloppy kiss in my hair. Her mouth kind of hung open a little as her eyes darted back and forth between the two of us, silently making the connection in her brain. I could practically see the gears turning in her pretty blonde head.
I tried not to choke on the sip of diet soda in my mouth.
I mumbled out an excuse, telling them both that I saw someone I needed to speak to and that I’d be right back. Bert gave me a small, understanding nod.
Her reaction had been what I wanted. I tried to remind myself of that as I wove through the crowd, bumping into people as I kept my head down. I had wanted people to think Bert and I were together.
I shouldered into the bathroom, checking under the stalls to make sure no one else was in the room before slumping against the counter and letting out a dramatic sigh.
I held my breath and counted backwards from 15, trying to fight off the looming onset of one hell of a panic attack. I don’t know how long I stood there, listening to the muffled roar of people talking over the music and praying no one would come in.
I felt around in my pockets for my phone.
I had put my phone on the silent setting when Bert and I had been getting ready because it had been ringing like crazy. Frank was calling me every half hour like clockwork and I had no interest in speaking to him.
Things felt over between us in a way they hadn’t felt before. I was resolved to the end of our pathetic excuse for a relationship. I wasn’t okay with it, but I could accept it. I would make a point to start dating again. I could get Mikey to set me up on some blind dates or something. Other fish in the sea or whatever my mom always said when I came home with a broken heart.
I knew there were a lot of things Frank and I still had to sort out, but I just found it completely amazing that he wasn’t even going to give me the time or space to sort out my feelings first.
I pulled my phone out of the sweater pocket. The battery was drained to almost nothing.
17 missed calls.
2 texts.
All from Frank.
“me and J didnt get back together. can you stop acting like this and answer your phone?” The first one read.
“please. we need to talk” The second one said.
I drafted out a few different things I wanted to say to him. Nothing I could fit in a text really covered what needed to be said. It was so weird how Frank had gone from being my best friend and my guitarist to being this person I desperately wanted to avoid. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him… I just didn’t know what to make of that anymore.
Bert’s suggestion of finding a new guitarist came to mind. I wanted to punch myself for even thinking about it.
I settled on “i don’t want to talk to you.” and almost hit send but thought better of it.
I spun around and inspected my appearance in the mirror. Through the nerves I could still appreciate how good Bert had done on my hair and makeup. If his band wasn’t already taking off I would’ve found some way to enlist him as my makeup artist, even if he applied products in the wrong order.
I was stalling. Ignoring the fact that I had to deal with Frank.
My phone screen lit up, alerting me that I had another text. Frank again, of course.
I held my breath as I opened the message.
“just fucking promise me youre okay. dont make come find you.” it read. Classic Frank.
If I didn’t answer he’d call Mikey and Mikey would call Bert and… I didn’t need everyone getting involved.
“i’m fine. i just dont want to talk to you.” I settled on writing. I hit send before I could change my mind.
I set my phone down on the counter and swiped at the corner of my eye where my eyeliner had smudged.
The phone screen lit up with a new message.
“can I see you later?” Frank wrote.
No. No. A thousand times ‘No’.
“i cant” I wrote back.
“you’re out with bert aren’t you?” He responded.
I wanted to tell him it was none of his business where I was... Which was stupid because he was the entire reason I was out.
Before I could think of a response the bathroom door swung open with a squeak.
“There you are.” Bert said cheerily. “How’d I know you’d be in here?”
He crossed the room and pulled me in for a hug.
“We should go.” He mumbled into my hair. “I shouldn’t have even brought you out. I don’t know what I was thinking. You’ve been through enough today.”
“I’m fine. We don’t have to leave if you’re having a good time.” I said, hooking my fingers around the arm that was stretched across my chest. “I just needed a moment...”
I glanced up at our reflections in the mirror. I liked how we looked together. Not even in a romantic way, necessarily. Bert and I looked like we belonged side by side. The pale skin, the crazy hair, the bloodshot eyes. On second thought it could’ve had more to do with the fact that I was wearing Bert’s clothes.
“I always have a good time, Gee.” Bert sighed, resting his head on my shoulder. “Have you ever seen me not having a good time?”
I thought about it for a second, trying to pull up a time that Bert might’ve been a drunken, crying mess or took too many pills or something. I couldn’t think of any times like that. Bert chuckled softly. The sound echoed in the silent bathroom.
“You always have a good time.” I resolved.
“I always have a good time.” He repeated fondly, squeezing me gently before pulling away from me. “Let’s go. You haven’t eaten anything today and I wanna take you to dinner.”
The suggestion sounded nice.
“Okay… yeah.” I nodded.
He grinned back at me, reaching out and pulling me by the arm out of the bathroom and into the crowded room. I felt at least a dozen pairs of eyes on us as Bert wrapped his arm around my waist, steering me out of the bar.
~

“I want a burger.” Bert said, linking our arms as we walked down the block. “Can we hit up a diner or something?”
“I know a good one not too far from here.” I said, breathing in the frigid winter air.
“Is it walking distance or should we get a cab?” Bert asked.
“Mmmm. We can walk.” I hummed.
“Lead the way.” he said, linking our arms together.
I pulled out a cigarette and cupped my hand around the end to light it. The second I had it burning, Bert plucked it from my lips and puffed on it. I glared at him as he passed it back to me nonchalantly, leaning into me and smiling to himself as we walked.
We walked through the busy manhattan streets, sharing cigarettes and holding hands. Bert would comment on what he thought of the outfits that hung on the people we passed. I put a stop to his rendition of ‘Fashion Police’ after he criticized the coat on some drunkard who turned around and asked Bert if ‘he wanted to say that again’. I picked up our pace, pulling Bert along and mumbled an apology to the guy over my shoulder. Bert, of course, thought it was hilarious.
Eventually we shouldered into a restaurant. It wasn’t the one I had in mind, but my fingers were going numb and Bert had to pee.
The waitress showed us to a booth up against the windows in the back of the place. It was completely empty aside from an old couple a few booths down.
I sat there taking in the peaceful silence, waiting for Bert to return from the bathroom. I pulled my phone out to check if I had any more texts from Frank. He hadn’t texted me but he’d called 3 more times.
I turned my phone off and stared at the black screen.

“Talking to your boyfriend?” Bert singsonged as he slid onto the seat across from me.
“He wants to see me.” I sighed.
“Course he does.” Bert sighed back, mimicking my tone again.
“What the fuck am I going to do?” I asked, scrubbing my hands over my face.
“You just totally ruined your makeup.” Bert sighed, picking up a menu and flitting through the pages.
“Fuck… I forgot I was wearing it.” I groaned. “Why are you looking at a menu if you already know what you want to order?”
“You look tragic. Do you know what you want?” Bert asked.
“I don’t want anything. I want to die of starvation.” I grumbled.
“Not an option.” Bert tutted.
“Can I get you two anything to drink?” A waitress with a pad in her hand asked cheerily, pausing in front of our table.
“Two coffees.” Bert told her with a wink.
“Do you know what you want to order yet or do you need a minute?” She asked.
“Mmmm. I’ll have a cheeseburger deluxe.” Bert hummed. “And my friend here will have the eggs benedict.”
The waitress smiled back at him, scribbled on her pad and walked off with our menus.
“Why’d you order for me?” I asked.
“Do you want to go see him?” Bert asked, ignoring my question.
“I don’t know... Yes and no.” I mused.
“You’re going to have to see him anyway eventually. Like, at band practice tomorrow?”
“We’ll just fight.” I sighed. “That’s all that will happen if I go see him.”
“But wouldn’t you rather fight in private than in front of your band?” Bert asked.
“It’s not like it’ll be one or the other. We always fight.” I said, pulling a pen out of my pocket and starting to doodle on the napkin in front of me.
“What do you even fight about?” Bert asked. He’d crossed his arms over the table and was resting his chin against them, staring at the motions of my pen over the napkin. I usually hated when people paid attention to what I was drawing. It never bothered me when Bert did it, though. Probably because he didn’t ask about the drawings until I was done with them.
“Everything. We fight constantly.” I explained, adding shading to the scene I’d sketched. I glanced up at Bert in the interest of adding him into the picture.
“At least there’s no lack of passion.” Bert commented with a bored smirk on his face.
“What do you mean?”
“I ordered for you because you seem to be having difficulty making decisions.” he said, changing the subject back. “And everyone likes eggs benedict.”
“Except Frank.” I pointed out.
“Right.” Bert agreed with a smile. “Except Frank.”
The waitress brought us our coffee and Bert busied himself mixing cream and sugar into his coffee.
“You want anything in yours?” He asked.
“Just a little cream.” I said.
“So… please tell me all this bullshit hasn’t gotten in the way of your art.” Bert said, rolling up the paper from an emptied sugar packet and flicking it across the room.
“I guess... it has.” I said, flipping the napkin over to start a new drawing on the other side.
“That sucks.” he said.
“Yeah.” I shrugged.
“You really need to do something about all this.” Bert said. “Seriously, Gee. I hate that you’re not drawing.”
“I am doing something about it.” I replied. “Right now.”
“You are?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I’m out on a date with you and I’m drawing you a picture on this napkin.” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. “Moving on.”
“But what are you gonna do about Frank?” Bert asked.
“Nothing.” I shrugged. “He said he doesn’t want to be together. He’s made up his mind about it.”
“His mind didn’t seem so made up when I talked to him earlier.” Bert pointed out.
“What did he say?”
“Mostly threatening shit. But he also seemed worried he’d ruined things with you forever.”
“Things aren’t completely ruined. I still want to be in a band with him and stuff. He’s still my friend.”
“You should tell himthat.” Bert sighed. “He’s really freaked out.”
“My phone’s dead.”
“Wanna use mine?” Bert asked, sliding his phone across the table.
“He’s just gonna yell at me and ask to see me. I’ll just deal with it tomorrow.” I said.
“Okay.” Bert said, pulling his phone back.
When the waitress came out with our plates Bert asked her if they had any paper behind the counter. She came back with a stack of several sheets of paper. I couldn’t figure out what Bert wanted them for until he slid them across the table towards me.
“Draw me something pretty.” He insisted.
I stared down at the blank page for a moment, terrified of the blank space. After making the first couple of marks I quickly got lost in a frenzy of drawings, only pausing to take sips of coffee.
Bert ate his burger in silence as he watched me work.
At some point the sound of him sliding into the booth startled me. I hadn’t even noticed that he’d gone out for a cigarette. I hadn’t noticed that my plate of food had been replaced with a small white box inside of a plastic bag.
“What time is it?” I asked, drinking my refilled coffee cup.
“About 3:30 in the morning.” Bert replied.
“Seriously?” I gasped.
“Apparently they’re open all night.” Bert laughed. “Wanna go home?”
“Uh yeah. Sure. Shit, dude, why didn’t you say something?” I asked.
“Was good to see you work.” Bert shrugged, collecting the papers, now littered in drawings, off of the table. He folded them carefully and slid them into his pocket.
“Come on, I already paid. Let’s get out of here.” Bert said, sliding into his coat.
I slid out of the booth and followed Bert out of the diner.
It had gotten colder outside. We huddled against each other for warmth as we hailed a cab.
“Your place or mine?” He asked through chattering teeth.
“I don’t put out on a first date.” I told him sarcastically. A cab slowed down for us in the street.
“Liar.” He smirked. “Let’s go to yours. Easier for you to get to practice in the morning.”
“Sure, whatever.” I said, climbing into the back of cab and giving the driver my address.
It was much warmer inside of the car. I leaned into Bert who was still shivering like crazy.
We rode in comfortable silence. I watch the city roll by. Neon signs clashed with street lights, blending together in a colorful blur of light.
As the cab pulled up on my apartment complex I felt a pang of dread. Frank still had a key to my place. I hoped he wasn’t there… because I had Bert with me.
I paid the driver and climbed out, glancing up to my floor. The windows of my unit were dark which was a good sign.
Bert practically shoved me inside of the building and up the stairs, grumbling about the cold, the winter and ‘fuck New Jersey’.

There was no one in my apartment and I couldn’t tell if there was more disappointment or relief in my heart.

Bert made himself at home, sliding out of his jacket, kicking off his shoes and disappearing into my room to flop down onto my bed. By the time I had followed him he was already flipping through the channels on the TV and dozing off.
I dropped onto the bed beside Bert, and stared at the TV. I found myself wondering what Frank was doing. Feeling sick when I wished it was Frank snoring beside me. I close my eyes and tried to push all thoughts of Frank away. When I’d finally gotten the thoughts of him away, I was left with one haunting notion:

Practice the next day was going to fucking suck.

Notes

sorry for not updating for so long!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i hope the length of this chapter makes up for it.

i don't know how i feel about this update or this story in general. i read through it all and i just... kind of hate it? like, i feel like i tried to do too much in one fic.

the next update won't take so long, i promise!! like, it's basically already written.
i love you all!! thx for your comments n encouragement n shit. <3

-m