My Way Home Is Through You
Headfirst for Halos
My feet were carrying me to so many different places. I had no idea if I'd be able to get back to the practice space. The guys were probably worried. Molly was probably worried. I hated making people worry. Not much I could do about that. I just had to find her something that would make up for all those years without her dad.
Stores flashed past my eyes but nothing looked like something she would want. How would I even know what she would want? I barely knew the kid! I barely knew my own daughter. The realization hit me fast and hard. Again. She was my daughter. That brought up about a few thousand questions.
Would she want to live with me now?
Does she even want me in her life?
Would I get sold custody, or do her adoptive parents still have her?
Would I be cooking for her?
What kind of food does she like?
A brightly lit boutique entered my vision. I practically gagged. The view from the window looked like someone puked pink all over everything. Molly didn't seem like the girl who would go to a boutique. I mean, she was wearing a My Chemical Romance hoodie for the love of God, she had to be a fan. Boutiques weren't in the description. I mentally slapped myself. That was stereotypical of our fans. I shouldn't think like that. Our fans like what they like. They could go to boutiques for all I knew.
I sighed. I guess now the last option I had was to go to the mall and risk being recognized. It wasn't really that big of a deal, I mean, I loved meeting fans, but I was in a hurry to get back. It would be dark by the time I navigated my way back to the practice space again.
Just as I stepped into the mall and flipped up my good, I had an idea. I didn't know if she would like it, but it was an idea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MOLLY'S POV
It was quiet again. We were waiting. Not waiting for Frank to come back. The chances of that were slim to none. We were waiting for the sound of his car leaving. Ever since he stormed off, no such noise had been heard. We just had to assume that his car was still there. We were all too afraid to actually go and check.
Ray still glanced at me from time to time, obvious anger burning in his eyes. Bob lightly tapped out a beat on his drums, and I eventually realized it to be from Demolition Lovers, but didn't say anything. Mikey stood in the corner, looking dejected and talking to someone on the phone. Probably Alicia. I had no idea, but I didn't really care. Gerard stayed close to me, seemingly scared that if he left the room Ray would verbally abuse me for fucking up the whole band.
Me?
I just sat on one of the two couches, curled into a ball, trying to repel all the bad feelings that were sinking from my brain down into my toes through my blood stream. That line from Headfirst for Halos kept running through my mind.
[i]Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts. Think happy mother fucking thoughts.[/i]
Suddenly a click came from above. Then a car door opening and closing. Everyone looked towards the sound. It was Frank's car. It had to be.
It was almost as if the whole room held its breath as footsteps came down the stone stairs leading into the practice space.
The doors burst open.
There was Frank. Grin in place. Some sort of bag slung over his arm.
The quiet in the room turned to a dead silence. We all just stared as he set down the bag. I was afraid he was just a figment of my imagination, and this was all happening in my head. When he spoke, and everyone reacted, I knew it wasn't.
"I'm back."
There was a surge of movement. Bob god there first, somehow leaping over his drum set to grab Frank in a spine-crushing hug. Ray came after, clapping him on the back. Mikey stood by and smiled, his conversation with whoever apparently over, happiness radiating from every pore. Then Gearard stepped up.
The tension seemed to come back instantly as they stared each other down. Neither was smiling, their faces absolutely expressionless. Frank stepped forward. I was almost afraid he was going to slap Gerard when his hand moved, but instead Frank yanked Gerard's ear playfully and pecked him on the lips. They both broke out in broad grins. All was forgiven.
Then Frank looked at me. I was terrified. Did he hate me? Never more in my life did I wish that I could read minds. Frank stepped back and picked up the bag, I now recognized it as a back pack that was almost full to the brim, then stepped towards me. I wanted to sink into the upholstery. He must hate me. I started this whole mess. He almost quit My Chem because of me.
He handed me the back pack. It was a sturdy thing, heavy with the weight of the things inside it. It was yellow, black, red, and white. Every single color I was wearing from the tips of my nails to the soles of my shoes. I looked at him in confusion.
"Open it." He grinned at me.
Cautiously, I unzipped the bag. A blue-purple-ish color spilled out. I pulled the thing free and realized it was a dress. Not exactly my size, but somehow close. I glanced at Frank, and he nodded encouragingly. I continued to empty the bag. A new pair of Chucks followed the dress, along with a CD, a gift card to a book store, a new iPod, a pack of crayons, a few bracelets, a rainbow pack of headbands, a scarf, an eye shadow set, a pack of guitar picks, and a key with a note attached to it.
I was more interested in the key, so I snatched it up from the couch. On the note an address was scribbled. Realization dawned on me as I read the address for the fourth time.
"Why are you giving me a key to your house?"
"What? My kid can't have a key to her own house?"
My heart almost stopped right in that moment as those words escaped his lips. This was a joke right? Did he just admit I was his kid? He just grinned at me, and slowly I grinned his grin back. He said I was his kid. He understood I wasn't shitting him. That's why he came back!
Then another thought came over me.
"What's with all the stuff?"
"That's for you. Fifteen years of presents for fifteen birthdays I wasn't able to spend with you."
I felt my eyes welling with tears. This had to be a dream. I was absolutely terrified that this was just a dream.
"Aw, don't cry Mollers! Come on, there has to be one more thing you were wondering about!"
I looked at him, and then back at the pile of gifts. I looked at the guitar picks. I didn't have a guitar. The sheer force of the surprise hit me like a slap in the face.
"YOU DIDN'T!" I practically screamed out of surprise. This wasn't happening. No way he would buy me something that expensive!
"Come on down to door number three!"
He grabbed my hand and led me outside. It was already getting dark. I had a flash of a thought that Gerard should take me home soon, but then it was gone as Frank pulled the most beautiful piece of equipment I'd ever seen out of his car.
The guitar was a deep shade of green and just my size. It seemed to shine in the glow of the street lights. I pinched myself just in case. This wasn't a dream.
"If you don't want it I could trade it in for a drum kit or a bass or something. I wasn't sure if you would want-"
"No! No, don't do that!" I reached out and caressed the glossy surface of the instrument. It already had captured my heart. I wouldn't have returned this thing for the world. It was too beautiful. Too significant to this night to ever be put back on a wall.
"Hey, Mollers?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
I looked up into his eyes. He had just said the words I had been longing to hear for most of my life. I have no idea how, but he somehow found a way to stow my new guitar back into his car before I threw myself int a hug that I wished would never end.
He slowly wrapped his arms around me and held me close, mirroring my wish to stay in this moment forever. I didn't care that the guys were watching. I didn't care that it felt like it was twenty degrees out that night. I wanted these next words to be burned into Frank's memory forever.
"I love you too, Dad."
......................
[i]Can't find my way home, but it's through you and I know what I'd do just to get back in your arms....[/i]
Stores flashed past my eyes but nothing looked like something she would want. How would I even know what she would want? I barely knew the kid! I barely knew my own daughter. The realization hit me fast and hard. Again. She was my daughter. That brought up about a few thousand questions.
Would she want to live with me now?
Does she even want me in her life?
Would I get sold custody, or do her adoptive parents still have her?
Would I be cooking for her?
What kind of food does she like?
A brightly lit boutique entered my vision. I practically gagged. The view from the window looked like someone puked pink all over everything. Molly didn't seem like the girl who would go to a boutique. I mean, she was wearing a My Chemical Romance hoodie for the love of God, she had to be a fan. Boutiques weren't in the description. I mentally slapped myself. That was stereotypical of our fans. I shouldn't think like that. Our fans like what they like. They could go to boutiques for all I knew.
I sighed. I guess now the last option I had was to go to the mall and risk being recognized. It wasn't really that big of a deal, I mean, I loved meeting fans, but I was in a hurry to get back. It would be dark by the time I navigated my way back to the practice space again.
Just as I stepped into the mall and flipped up my good, I had an idea. I didn't know if she would like it, but it was an idea.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MOLLY'S POV
It was quiet again. We were waiting. Not waiting for Frank to come back. The chances of that were slim to none. We were waiting for the sound of his car leaving. Ever since he stormed off, no such noise had been heard. We just had to assume that his car was still there. We were all too afraid to actually go and check.
Ray still glanced at me from time to time, obvious anger burning in his eyes. Bob lightly tapped out a beat on his drums, and I eventually realized it to be from Demolition Lovers, but didn't say anything. Mikey stood in the corner, looking dejected and talking to someone on the phone. Probably Alicia. I had no idea, but I didn't really care. Gerard stayed close to me, seemingly scared that if he left the room Ray would verbally abuse me for fucking up the whole band.
Me?
I just sat on one of the two couches, curled into a ball, trying to repel all the bad feelings that were sinking from my brain down into my toes through my blood stream. That line from Headfirst for Halos kept running through my mind.
[i]Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts. Think happy mother fucking thoughts.[/i]
Suddenly a click came from above. Then a car door opening and closing. Everyone looked towards the sound. It was Frank's car. It had to be.
It was almost as if the whole room held its breath as footsteps came down the stone stairs leading into the practice space.
The doors burst open.
There was Frank. Grin in place. Some sort of bag slung over his arm.
The quiet in the room turned to a dead silence. We all just stared as he set down the bag. I was afraid he was just a figment of my imagination, and this was all happening in my head. When he spoke, and everyone reacted, I knew it wasn't.
"I'm back."
There was a surge of movement. Bob god there first, somehow leaping over his drum set to grab Frank in a spine-crushing hug. Ray came after, clapping him on the back. Mikey stood by and smiled, his conversation with whoever apparently over, happiness radiating from every pore. Then Gearard stepped up.
The tension seemed to come back instantly as they stared each other down. Neither was smiling, their faces absolutely expressionless. Frank stepped forward. I was almost afraid he was going to slap Gerard when his hand moved, but instead Frank yanked Gerard's ear playfully and pecked him on the lips. They both broke out in broad grins. All was forgiven.
Then Frank looked at me. I was terrified. Did he hate me? Never more in my life did I wish that I could read minds. Frank stepped back and picked up the bag, I now recognized it as a back pack that was almost full to the brim, then stepped towards me. I wanted to sink into the upholstery. He must hate me. I started this whole mess. He almost quit My Chem because of me.
He handed me the back pack. It was a sturdy thing, heavy with the weight of the things inside it. It was yellow, black, red, and white. Every single color I was wearing from the tips of my nails to the soles of my shoes. I looked at him in confusion.
"Open it." He grinned at me.
Cautiously, I unzipped the bag. A blue-purple-ish color spilled out. I pulled the thing free and realized it was a dress. Not exactly my size, but somehow close. I glanced at Frank, and he nodded encouragingly. I continued to empty the bag. A new pair of Chucks followed the dress, along with a CD, a gift card to a book store, a new iPod, a pack of crayons, a few bracelets, a rainbow pack of headbands, a scarf, an eye shadow set, a pack of guitar picks, and a key with a note attached to it.
I was more interested in the key, so I snatched it up from the couch. On the note an address was scribbled. Realization dawned on me as I read the address for the fourth time.
"Why are you giving me a key to your house?"
"What? My kid can't have a key to her own house?"
My heart almost stopped right in that moment as those words escaped his lips. This was a joke right? Did he just admit I was his kid? He just grinned at me, and slowly I grinned his grin back. He said I was his kid. He understood I wasn't shitting him. That's why he came back!
Then another thought came over me.
"What's with all the stuff?"
"That's for you. Fifteen years of presents for fifteen birthdays I wasn't able to spend with you."
I felt my eyes welling with tears. This had to be a dream. I was absolutely terrified that this was just a dream.
"Aw, don't cry Mollers! Come on, there has to be one more thing you were wondering about!"
I looked at him, and then back at the pile of gifts. I looked at the guitar picks. I didn't have a guitar. The sheer force of the surprise hit me like a slap in the face.
"YOU DIDN'T!" I practically screamed out of surprise. This wasn't happening. No way he would buy me something that expensive!
"Come on down to door number three!"
He grabbed my hand and led me outside. It was already getting dark. I had a flash of a thought that Gerard should take me home soon, but then it was gone as Frank pulled the most beautiful piece of equipment I'd ever seen out of his car.
The guitar was a deep shade of green and just my size. It seemed to shine in the glow of the street lights. I pinched myself just in case. This wasn't a dream.
"If you don't want it I could trade it in for a drum kit or a bass or something. I wasn't sure if you would want-"
"No! No, don't do that!" I reached out and caressed the glossy surface of the instrument. It already had captured my heart. I wouldn't have returned this thing for the world. It was too beautiful. Too significant to this night to ever be put back on a wall.
"Hey, Mollers?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
I looked up into his eyes. He had just said the words I had been longing to hear for most of my life. I have no idea how, but he somehow found a way to stow my new guitar back into his car before I threw myself int a hug that I wished would never end.
He slowly wrapped his arms around me and held me close, mirroring my wish to stay in this moment forever. I didn't care that the guys were watching. I didn't care that it felt like it was twenty degrees out that night. I wanted these next words to be burned into Frank's memory forever.
"I love you too, Dad."
......................
[i]Can't find my way home, but it's through you and I know what I'd do just to get back in your arms....[/i]
10/8/13