3 Years Ago

Have you ever been to a funeral? I hadn't until now. This was the first one I had ever been to. I dont think they're meant to be this awesome. I'm supposed to be saying goodbye to my old art teacher, Greg. Not making out with his godson. It wasnt like I didn't care about Greg, I loved him in school and afterwards with the private art lessons. We had technically already said our goodbyes at the cremation. Besides, I was way too drunk to care what other people thought and this guy was fucking hot. I only knew 3 things about him:

1. His name was Frank.
2. Greg was his godfather.
3. He liked my Misfits shoes.

Its not much I know but hey, at least I know his name. It doesnt really matter though. I'm not gonna remember any of this in the morning anyway.

I first saw Frank at the end of the service kissing Greg goodbye, dripping red and black tears into the coffin. I had already had a couple of drinks before hand so I wasnt thinking straight when I had thought the crying midget was hot.

He was wearing a black suit with a red tie and before his tears had ruined it, his eys had been covered in red eyeshadow and coal black eyeliner. He had a flat black mohawk with the sides of his head dyed red. In short, he was gorgeous. He was a head shorter than me and right now, the zing of cold from his lip ring on my collarbone was enough to make me come.

In the back of my head I knew I had to stop before it went too far. Frank couldn't be like the others. Not when he was so vulnerable like this. There was something about him that was different to the others. If he ended up the same as the others, I would never forgive myself and I had no idea how to explain it.

"Oh fuck Frank."I gasped as he palmed me through my black skinnies.
"You feel so good."Frank breathed onto my chest. I hadnt even noticed him undo my shirt. Frank slowly sank to his knees, his eyes connected with mine, and slowly undid my belt buckle.

"No."I whispered. Frank's fingers froze and he raised an eyebrow at me. It took every ounce of me to step to the side, away from him. We were in Greg's art room at his house. The room where I had last spoken to him about my painting. Thinking back now, I wish I had said something more than,'I'll bring you a new one tomorrow' to him as I left. I think someone had started to come in while we were making out but given the fact that we were in plain sight of the doorway, they wouldnt have stayed long. Frank had me up against the very desk I sat at for my lessons.

"Whats wrong?"Frank asked quietly. He stood back up and watched as I moved further away from him.
"I cant do this again."I mumbled through my hands,"Not to you. You're too vulnerable. I dont want to do this. Not again. You cant be like the others. Not you."
"Gerard what are you on about?"He looked at me curiously through his bangs. I ignored him and did up my shirt. The alcohol made the buttons merge together, making it difficult.

"I'm- nevermind. I need to go."I looked at Frank longingly for a second before turning around into a table with paints covering the surface,"Fuck."I muttered. I staggered around it and left Frank alone. I spotted Greg's wife talking to another woman and dragged myself up to her, mumbled a consolation and thanks, then went home. As soon as I got home I went straight to bed, ignoring the looks from my brother Mikey and my Mom.

*

"Fuck."I groaned. Flashes of a red tie, black hair and a silver lip ring passed in front of my eyes but the only thing I could make of it before the headache set in was that once again, I had gotten too drunk and slept with some guy who probably didn't deserve to be treated like that. I lay in bed for an hour after taking painkillers, waiting for them to kick in. With a heavy sigh I rolled over and reached under my bed. I felt around until my fingers grasped the cold glass of my bottle of whiskey. I took a swig and put it back.

"Gerard?!"Mom's voice pierced the blissful silence and my head. I slowly stumbled out of bed and over to my mirror. I was still wearing my shirt and jeans from yesterday. A flash of cold on my collarbone made me groan and run my fingers through my hair, messing it up more than fixing it. Who the hell did I screw last night?

There was a knock on my door, pulling me out of my muddled thoughts.
"Fucking what?"I sighed as I opened the door. Mikey was standing there, staring at me with a weird look on his face.
"Um. Come with me,"He glanced down the hallway as a door shut.
I glanced back at my bed and with a regretful sigh I said,"This better be fucking worth it."
"Trust me, it's worth it,"Mikey grabbed my arm and tugged me down to the kitchen.

At the table Mom and Pete were sitting down drinking coffee.
"What's this abo- hey!"I pushed Mikey away and sat down myself,"I don't need your help. Now tell me what's so important?"I glared at them as Mikey shut the kitchen door.
"An intervention,"Mom said quietly.
"A fucking inter- are you kidding me?! You've tried that before and it didn't work. You know why? Because I don't need one! I don't have a fucking problem for fucks sake!"I shouted at them. I went to stand up but immediately Mikey was there to stop me.

"Last time we made mistakes. Said the wrong things,"Mom rubbed her face and pinned me in my seat with a heartbreaking look.
"We're not gonna make the same mistakes again, Gerard,"Pete said seriously. I looked from Mikey to Pete to Mom,"What are you gonna do this time?"
"In two days you and Mom are flying to California. Mom has put you into rehab,"Mikey said over the top of me.

"You can't make me go. I won't be here,"I growled. I slapped Mikey's hands away from my shoulders and stood up. I yanked open the kitchen door and stepped into the hallway to see Bob, a guy I never really liked that much anyway, step away from my door,"Bob? What the fuck are you doing heere?"I asked as I walked up to him.
"Gerard get back here! I'm not done talking to you!"Mom said behind me.
"No. I'm leaving. For good this time,"I eyed Bob suspiciously as I walked into my room. He was just standing there awkwardly.

Mom followed me into my room and said,"Is it done? Good. Lock us in."
"What do you- No!"I grabbed at the door but it was too late. Bob had locked us in. I pounded on the door and rattled the handle,"Open the fucking door!"I screeched. I spun around to face Mom who was waiting patiently on my bed.
"Gerard sit down and and talk,"She said calmly.

"Fuck you! You have no fucking right to do this! What are you gonna do? Lock me in my room for two dats? Manhandle me onto the plane?"I raged for about three minutes straight. She just sat there silently, waiting. When it seemed I had ran out of steam I sat down on the other side of the bed with a sigh.
"Gerard. You are my son. I love you. I will not sit by and watch you destroy yourself like this.
"But I'm not-"
"You've said your bit. Shut up. It's my turn."

The bed tilted as she did something. I heard bottle clink together and had a mini heart attack.
"Look at me, Gerard. You think this is normal?"She was holding up three empty whiskey bottles, one empty bourbon bottle, and my half full whiskey,"Gerard this is just your bedroom. God only knows how much you drink out of the house,"She dumped the bottles on the bed and came round to sit next to me,"You have got to sort yourself out."

I looked at her and said,"What are you gonna do then?"
"You're not coming out of this room until Doctor Williams and his muscle get here."
"Doctor who? Mom, this is ridiculous! I need a drink,"I muttered. I grabbed the half empty bottle and unscrewed the lid, keeping eye contact with my Mom as drank most of what was left.
"I hope you like your room, Gerard,"Her voice shook as she said it, tears threatening to break free.

She got up and walked to the door.
"You can't just keep me- in here..."I sighed as I heard the door lock from the outside. Fucking Bob. He had no right to change the locks around. I went to my window and howled in frustration. There was a padlock on the outside.
"What the fuck?!"I shouted and kicked the wall angrily.

I sat down on my bed and drank the last mouthful of my whiskey and threw the empty bottle at the wall, smiling as it shattered everywhere with that loud smashing sound. I got down on my knees and looked under my bed for more alcohol.
"Holy shit..."I murmured as I took in the seven or eight empty bottles in the centre of the floor space,"Maybe I do need to cut back a bit,"I sighed. I lay down on the floor and stared at the bottles.

I had started drinking heavily after Dad had died. I was sort of over it now but I was having too much fun. Almost every night each week I would go out, get extremely drunk and find some guy to sleep with. It wasn't healthy. Living in the small town of Chesterson in the shitty state of New Jersey did not help either. I couldn't walk down the street without getting a glare from at least one guy. Maybe going away for a bit would be good. Maybe.