Every Burden Has a Version

Frank and I toddled shoulder to shoulder near a super mall that now covered a scenic landscape view. I know, I should be use to malls destroying the terra firma, but no one ever is. No one is ever energized for another nail salon ran by Asians.

“Are you hungry?” Frank asked me.

“I’m dying for a martini,” I replied, observing Frank’s expression.

“It’s breakfast time though.”

“Well, throw some toast with it.”

“The Los Angeles life took the toll on you.”

I busted with cackles. “I’m fooling with you, bud. But, yeah, I’m hungry for caffeine.”

“Maybe that’s the reason you’re always up.”

“It could be. It could be the nightmares.”

“Let’s head to Mikey’s work. They have a coffee shop in there,” Frank uttered, torpidly and numbly. He was so emotionless anytime I mentioned a connection to my past.

“Later we can go to Taco Bell,” I offered, optimistically and hopped around Frank on the sidewalk. “Have you had that fucking Volcano Taco?” Frank shook his head. “No? No? Fuck, life is too short to not have that lava hot taco. I had it the other day with my coworkers. I was all like,” I opened my mouth and fanned my hands around the edges of my mouth, “fuck! That is fucking hot! I drank a fish tank after that.” I was slapping my knee, laughing.

Frank didn’t budge. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Are you tired, Frank?” I questioned.

“Very,” he chuckled.

“Is it the weed? I can hear that you have a weed laugh.”

Frank nudged me. “My mom noticed. Scariest day of my life,” he sniggered.

“What happened?”

“Oh, it was before I moved out so months after you left. I came home super late and Mom was just flipping out at me. I didn’t know I was stoned, but apparently I ate the whole fucking refrigerator. My mom detected I was paranoid since I broke a lamp thinking aliens could fine me. Oh, fuck, Violet. You would have been cracking up.”

I smiled. That was Frank all right.

“You do the smoke?”

“Every now and then," I laughed.

“I was a hippie for awhile,” Frank declared, gleefully.

“The grass is always greener on the other side, isn’t it?” I grinned at Frank who was shaking his head, pleased.

We arrived at Mikey’s place of work and Frank tugged me to the music section that Mikey ‘specialized’ in.

“Hey, how can I help you two young folks?” someone questioned from behind us.

We both turned around to see Mikey with a pleasant, happy-go-lucky expression. His hair was slicked back and his glasses hung at the end of his nose. He had a black blazer on with black pants. Honestly, if I was to enter this bookstore and I need assistance, I wouldn’t approach him. Mikey looked like a creeper that had slugs as pets.

“Hey, Violet,” Mikey shouted, waving his index finger in my face.

“Do I know you?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

“It’s me! Mikey,” he whimpered. “You met me last night!”

“Did I? You sure I wasn’t a figment of your imagination?”

Mikey coward into a music case, causing the rows of CD’s to fall back like dominoes.

“She’s just kidding, Mikey,” Frank interrupted, patting Mikey on the back. “She does that on purpose. It’s her way of becoming friends.”

“Jeez, Frank,” Mikey croaked, “you know Violet very well.”

“Friends since childbirth,” Frank said, linking arms with me. “Oh, hey, I forgot to get you breakfast. What would you like from the coffee shop, Violet?”

I smiled and shrugged. “Surprise me,” I answered. “Triple shot it though.”

Frank let got of my arm, leaving Mikey and I alone.

“So, Mikey,” I muttered, “how long have you been working here?”

“A year or so,” he replied, dexterously. “After a year I still haven’t been given a raise or a promotion.”

I squinted and tightened my face. “I’ll put in a word to the manager.”

“After so much I’ve done for this place,” Mikey shook his head. “I got my brother a job here too and I still haven’t been moved up to working at the cash register.”

I can see this guy not being too good with money.

“I feel your pain,” I lied, smacking him in the shoulder.

His eyes lit up. Oh, light bulb!

“Want to meet my brother, Violet?” Mikey nodded his head till I bobbed my head too.

“This way,” Mikey squealed, pushing me to the book subdivision “His name is Gerard.”

“Good to know,” I snorted.

“Have you seen my brother?” Mikey asked another employee, I assume.

The employee pointed to the literature division. Mikey and I strolled over there where I saw a pastel skin guy sitting on stool used to get high books from shelves. He had an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

“Gerard, put that away! You’ll get fired and then the manager will think I’m not trustworthy or dependable.” Mikey flicked the cigarette out of Gerard’s mouth.

Gerard then glanced up at me. His pale frosting of skin and shoulder black hair glowed from the ceiling light above him. He dressed just like Mikey with the exception of his hair. His hair was exceedingly muddled and greasy like he hasn’t washed it in days.

“She’s visiting here from California,” Mikey spoke.

A half smirk rose from Gerard’s taut lips forcing me to shiver and creepily smirk in return.

“You ready for the time of your life?” Gerard tittered with a ‘ha-ha-ho-he’.

Mikey backed up, tripping over his own two feet. He stared back and forth at us.

“There you are, Violet. Here’s your triple shot caramel latte.” Frank blocked my inspection of Gerard, handing me the coffee cup. “I see you met Gerard.” Frank leaned closer to me and whispered, “He’s a mysterious guy. The brother you never had, but seriously do not want.”

I exploded with laughs and giggles. Mikey trembled in a book shelf at how close Frank’s face was to mine. I glared over at Mikey.

“Boo!” I yelled.

Mikey grabbed onto his hands and dug them into his pocket.

“Mikey,” I gurgled. “You have to get use to me and understand the more you whimper and coward, the more I persecute you with fear.” I moved Frank out of my way to witness Gerard.

“Hey, Gerard, you know what?” Frank articulated, sitting on the floor in front of him and bringing me down to his lap. “Violet is a tattoo artist.”

“Does that mean you have random needles in your pockets and up your shirt sleeves?” Gerard inquired.

“I’m a tattoo artist,” I declared, offended, “not a meth addict.”

Gerard looked at me and then his brother. “Get back to work, Mikey. This is adult time.”

Mikey grinned and departed back to the CD section.

Frank and I sat down. Frank sat behind me, wrapping his legs with mine. I felt Frank’s warm arms wrap around my lower chest in a cuddly matter. I took a chug of my coffee. Gerard reached out his hands, stealing my coffee, taking a sip, and giving it back.

“Let’s go to the back lot,” Gerard suggested, standing up and going out the fire exit door.

I stood up, helping Frank up from the floor.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” I sang as we followed Gerard.

“It’s just him, unfortunately,” Frank sighed.

We too exited out the same door as Gerard. We found him underneath a shadow transmitted from the building. He crouched against the wall, lit his cigarette, and took a long drag. He kept his head down the whole time like he was humiliated.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Gerard solicited when Frank and I stood in front of him.

“We’ve been friends since babies, literally,” Frank said. “We are best friends.”

“Are you just friends, Frank?”

“Well, yeah,” Frank responded, bamboozled. “Violet let Jersey three years ago to pursue her dream. Although, she made a promise to me that on my twenty-first birthday she would come here to do what I wanted.”

“That’s right,” Gerard said to himself, silently. “Your birthday is on Halloween.” His voice grew louder. “What are you going to do?”

“It’s a secret. Violet is going to stay for the whole week.”

“What?” I barked in alarm. “Frank, I have to get back to work. I can’t let Brea take all my appointments,” I argued. “I left my life in Los Angeles. I can’t just drop everything.”

“You left your life here, Violet,” Frank quarreled. “Besides, you’re famous enough where taking off work won’t ruin your reputation.”

“How do you know that?”

“Who is your boss?” Gerard posed an off topic question.

“My boss? Uh, Brea Del Amo,” I answered, rolling my eyes.

“I’ve heard of her. I saw her book here,” Gerard motioned himself at the door we excited out of. “She’s good at doing her tattoo thing.”

I nodded my head. “See, Frank, I could ruin Brea’s status and rep. She’s my best friend.”

“What does that have anything to do with? You’re my best friend,” Frank disputed. “I deserve you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Please, Violet, you’re killing me.” Frank snatched my hands. “Stay for me.”

I gaped at his grief-stricken eyes. They filled me with guilt; as if I didn’t have enough already.

“I’ll place a call to Brea. You fucking sap,” I snarled.

Frank smiled, letting go of my cold hands. “You can use my cell since it’s a long distant call.”

“Thanks bud.”

“Sure,” Frank mumbled, walking away with Gerard after giving me his phone.

Gerard stopped and stood glaring at me.

“You’re killing him slowly and softly,” Gerard pronounced. He put his cigarette to his mouth.

“Am I now? I didn’t notice,” I snapped. "Give me a cig."

“Bitch,” I heard him say after he handed me a cigerette.

Wow, he wasn’t the first to think that.

Notes

Introducing the one and only Gerard Way.

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-christy-