Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I was so late!

I jumped into a pair of jeans lying on the floor and put on a shirt hanging halfway from an open drawer before running out the door and down the stairs. I ran down to the corner of the street and right down to the subway station. It was times like these that I was grateful for having an apartment right by the station otherwise getting to work in my hung-over – and very much late – state would be a nightmare. It would have been even quicker to catch a cab, but who could afford that nowadays? Besides, with my terrible luck it would get stuck in traffic, still leaving me screwed. There was no time to stop and appreciate the clear blue sky or the fact that I was alive for yet another day. The only thing on my mind at that moment was the fact that I was going to be late for work and the incessant pounding inside my skull.

The station was crowded as expected, but I instantly found my train. It was kind of cramped, but I stayed standing, by some miracle, until it dropped me off twelve blocks further. As I ran into the Starbucks, closest to work, Ray was already holding a cup of coffee out to me. I didn’t stop to pay, because he already knew that I would be back later that day to get more coffee and pay for both. Out the door and two more blocks down I ran into a building, walked through a set of doors and finally sat down in my cubicle completely out of breath.

There were several painkillers in my drawer of which I drank two with the coffee. After finishing my coffee I reopened my drawer and pulled out a toothbrush. I was all set up. My being late was a daily occurrence. Instead I kept a toothbrush and hairbrush at work – I could only dress on my way out and do the rest when I got to work and not be terribly late. That’s why Ray had a coffee waiting for me every morning, so I could just grab it on my way to work. Without a cup of coffee in the morning I wouldn’t be able to function. Now if only there was a bar nearby that would do the same for me.

In the bathroom I quickly brushed my teeth and fixed my hair before returning to my cubicle. Papers were scattered all over the desk. There were a lot of pictures – cartoons I was working on. It was hard work drawing everything, but I loved it. Drawing was one of my passions and besides that I always liked comic books too. It was my dream to become a published comic book writer. However, that dream was set aside for the time being as I worked to make a living and figured out everything else. Aside from that, I had bills to pay, including a student loan.

When you’re in middle school they always tell you that things are easy now and that high school wasn’t going to be all fun and games, that you’ll have a hard time adjusting and that everything would be a lot more difficult. Not really so. In high school they tell you the exact same thing. College wasn’t going to be all fun and games. There’s a lot more work and you’ll have to adjust and work hard to keep your head above water. These words held a little more truth than before, though, yet again, it’s not all bad. Then you reach college and finally you think this time you’ve got it. They’ll be preparing you for life this time. Guess what. They said that life after college was not going to be so easy-going. It was going to be so much different than what you’ve experienced so far. In short you would have to get your shit together and grow up in the blink of an eye.

This time they were right. Nothing I’ve ever experienced in life would have prepared me for this world. True, I’ve seen it for all its possibilities, but on the other hand also its cruelties and some days it felt like the latter far outnumbered the former. And they always gave you these speeches on how much harder the next part of life was going to be, but no one ever bothered telling you how to deal with it. They simply expected you to know, just like we’re expected to know the answer to every question put to us or how to deal with every major obstacle life threw at us. How do you deal with the loss of a loved one? How do you take care of yourself in a selfish world where every person is only concerned with his or her own wellbeing? How do you deal with hate, love, lies, greed, misery? What about self-loathing? Maybe they should stop preaching to us and feeding us all these negative images and start teaching us, giving us hope and the promise of a better future. Maybe they should start giving us tips on how to survive all of this. No wonder people were afraid of life before they’ve even experienced it. But these thoughts were too depressing this early in the morning.

I was always dehydrated in the morning and every time I visited the water cooler, Sarah Allman just happened to be there. She had long blonde hair, tied back tightly and she wore stylish glasses. She always wanted to talk about topics of current interest, which was not my favorite topic. She could be funny when she tried to look smart and I liked her. She was the only person who bothered to talk to me or pay any form of attention to me in this place. Everyone else just kept to themselves which I kind of preferred though to be honest. People asked questions, questions that I wasn’t willing to answer.

“What do you think about alcoholics?” she asked me once I reached the water cooler and filled a cup with the cool, clear liquid.

“What do I think of them?” I asked amused drinking the water and feel it clear my mind if only a little. A beer would’ve gone down a lot better at that point in time, but unfortunately I didn’t have any. A cigarette would have to suffice for the time being, as soon as I managed to sneak outside for a smoke break.

It was way too early in the morning to be having this conversation, but I would humor her for a few minutes.

“Yes, well, I saw a program last night about the effects of alcohol and it got me thinking. Why do these people love alcohol so much? What do you think?”

I wanted to sigh loudly, but that would be mean and instead I managed not to show what I really felt. “You really want to know what I think, Sarah?”

She nodded.

“Alcoholics are people just like you, that’s what I think. To them it’s a way of life. What do you do every night before you go to bed?”

“I watch my favorite television programs and read a book.”

“Well, that’s what alcoholics do. Only, where you read and watch television, they go out and drink. Would you be able to sleep if you didn’t read a book first?”

She shook her head again.

“The same with them. It’s a habit and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

She looked skeptical, “Yes, but don’t they realize that it’s destroying their lives?”

“Says who? They also live normal lives like everyone else. How do you know that I’m not an alcoholic?”

I managed to keep a straight face while asking this. She had no idea how ironic all of this was.

My co-worker blushed profusely at this question. “No… Uhm, you’re not. You’re too nice.”

“Are you sure?” I asked again causing her blush to deepen. “And what does nice have to do with it? Alcoholic people aren’t devoid of personality.”

We started to walk back to her cubicle.

“You know, alcoholics can actually be nice. You won’t know. You can’t tell them from anyone else when they’re sober, because they’re just like you,” I said pointed out truthfully.

I left her standing in her cubicle with a satisfied smile on her face. The problem was that she didn’t like me. She liked the idea of me. It was ironic that she asked me of all people what my thoughts on alcoholics were. She had no idea what my opinion on the topic was. She had no idea who I was.


*

“I’m sorry to hear about Bert,” Ray said later that afternoon when I dropped by Starbucks for some coffee.

Ray worked at Starbucks and I informed him about what happened to Bert the night before. Ray was probably my only sober friend. He didn’t do drugs and he wasn’t really into the whole party scene either. The puff head always wanted to get me to clean up my act, but of course to no avail.

I nodded, “The funny thing is that Joe warned us beforehand.”

“I’ve warned you before too, not that you ever listen to me,” he said sternly. “I’m telling you – this
life is going to kill you,” he added and left me to help a customer.

“I’ll have a Decaf Latte,” the man placed his order.

I sighed deeply, because Ray was right. My crazy lifestyle would most likely end up killing me, but right now it was pretty much the only thing that still kept me going. Besides, I couldn’t just stop. I would definitely die.

The guy that ordered the coffee stared at me, but I simply ignored him. Behind the counter I saw a girl I never noticed before – and I came here every day. She looked really familiar, but I couldn’t say how. Her jet-black hair was short and slightly spiked up at the back and her eyes were a piercing blue. She would’ve been extremely beautiful if it weren’t for the fact that she looked tired and worn. There were dark circles around her slightly bloodshot eyes and her hair looked like it hasn’t been washed in weeks. Then again I couldn’t really judge. From another person’s point of view I probably looked the same.

“Who’s that girl? She looks familiar,” I asked Ray once he returned.

“Of course she does. She’s been working here for the past year and a half.”

I frowned slightly, sitting back. I knew her from somewhere else. Yes, I’ve come here daily for years, but this was not where I’ve seen the mysterious girl before. Maybe the alcohol was starting to affect my brain. Oh well. I finished the last of my coffee and jumped up.

“Oy! Where are you going?” Ray called when I was half way to the door.

“I’m going to drop by the hospital for a quick visit to Bert and then I’m going out.”

“Are you serious? One of your best friends is in a hospital because of blood poisoning after he consumed too much alcohol and you still feel like going out?”

Of course he would have a problem with that, but Bert was the one in the hospital not me. There was nothing stopping me from going out. What else would I do anyway?

“Yeah,” was my short reply before running out.

*

The middle-aged nurse led me down the hallway towards the ward Bert was in. I hated hospitals. They were full of sick people and always reminded me of death. It smelled like medicine and antiseptics and the fluorescent lights hurt my eyes.

She stopped and opened a door for me. I walked inside and saw Bert sitting up in bed and playing cards by himself. He looked up when I entered the room and his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Gerard! You have no idea how glad I am to see you. I knew you’d come to save me.”

I chuckled. He was clearly going out of his mind in here and I didn’t blame the poor guy. It must’ve been torture.

“You have to get me out of here, man. It’s like hell in here. If you don’t I swear I’ll die,” he exclaimed melodramatically.

“I’m sure it’s not that terrible,” I said, trying to comfort him even though I would feel the same.

There was no way I would be able to get him out, because the doctor was adamant about him staying in the hospital for another night. The least I could do was try to make it a little more bearable even if it was only by telling him that it was for the best and that he would be out soon.

“It’s worse. It’s never quiet – someone’s always coughing or crying or the nurses are parading the hallways. It’s driving me insane. And I’m supposed to just sit here going out of my mind.
They don’t even feed us,” he complained.

My eyes widened, “They have to feed you.”

“Feeding requires them actually giving you food. The slosh they give us can hardly be classified as food, never mind edible. I’d rather starve than touch it.”

I cracked up at how picky he was.

“I’m serious. Please do something,” he pleaded desperately.

“How much longer do you have to stay in here?”

“The doctor wants me to stay here until tomorrow morning.”

“It’s not that long and he just wants to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay? There’s nothing wrong with me to begin with,” Bert said firmly.

“Maybe it’s best if you stay. You gave us quite a fright last night.”

It was true. Despite the fact that I only found out about everything this morning, I was still worried. Bert may have been a greasy drunk, but he was still a good friend and I would take a bullet for him if I had to.

“Ha! Liar! You passed out before I did.”

“I was worried when they told me!” I said defensively, but clearly he didn’t buy it.

He crossed his arms and looked at me skeptically.

“Don’t be like that. It might do you good to go to sleep sober for once.”

“Fuck you!” he spat. “You’re the last person on earth who could say something like that. I bet you can’t even remember the last time you were sober.”

I laughed as I turned back and started walking out the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“Don’t leave me here! Where are you going?”

“Where do you think I’m going?”

“Wait! Gerard, you motherfucker! Get back here!” he shouted after me.

I just laughed and kept walking down the hallway, ignoring his outraged cries.

*

I couldn’t believe it. None of the guys showed up that night. It was after nine and I was still alone. The whole incident with Bert must have really spooked them. I sighed and ordered another beer.

At the end of the bar a girl sat all by herself. She looked sad. Then I remembered the girl from the night before. Of course it was her, the girl who reminded me of me. It would appear that she was me, only the female version, judging by the fact that she was also in here night after night, drowning her sorrows. After ten minutes of consideration I finally got the courage to walk over and join her.

“Do you mind if I join you?” I asked sitting down next to her.

“It’s not like I have much of a choice,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

I noticed that she had beautiful blue eyes. Even in the terrible lighting of the bar, they seemed to shine. Her black hair was cut short at the back, but kept a little longer at the front. It suited her.

“Are you here alone?” I was curious to know, because it was impossible for someone like her not to have anyone around. Then again, wasn’t that the whole point? It was the people who didn’t look alone that were the loneliest. This girl here was alone in every possible way.

“That was the plan,” she said still avoiding eye contact.

“Sorry, I just thought… Well, since we’re both alone, I thought we might keep each other company.”

She looked me up and down and sighed, “Fine, but under one condition: no personal questions.”

“Deal,” I smiled, but of course she didn’t reply. “You’re a real bitch, aren’t you?” I noticed bluntly. It was out before I could stop myself and I honestly didn’t mean for it to sound that way.

She looked a little surprised, finally showing some emotion. “Maybe I am. Just don’t think that you know me all of a sudden.”

“I’m Gerard Way.”

She ignored my outstretched hand and said, “Katherine Leone.”

I thought about her name for a second before asking, “Can I call you Kat? No offense, you have a beautiful name, you really do, but it sounds very royal.”

I saw the corners of her mouth twitch, as if she wanted to smile, but no such luck.

“Knock yourself out,” she muttered. “Why aren’t you with your friends?”

“How do you know that I have friends?” I countered.

“Everyone has friends. Besides, I’ve seen you with them.”

“You have? When?” She noticed me too. That was an interesting surprise.

“I was at the bar that night your friend collapsed.”

“Oh…”

“By the way, is he okay?” she wanted to know, seeming sincere in her worry.

“Bert? He’s fine. Nothing gets him down that easily,” I smiled. “He’s still in the hospital, but at least he’s still alive and kicking. I’ll bet he’ll be back in the bar the second he gets out.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “You guys should quit while you’re at it. This gets harder, you know?” It wasn't a question.

“What does?” I wanted to know confused.

“Gerard!” Shawn grabbed my shoulders before leaning against the bar right between me and Kat. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here,” he smiled, “I thought no one was going to come after what happened last night.”

I was kind of disappointed that he showed up just then. I didn’t know the young female, but maybe she just needed to know that she was not alone. Maybe we’d have a connection of some sort by the end of the night and become friends. Plus we were right in the middle of a conversation. I couldn’t help noticing that she used the interruption as a chance to sneak away. Oh well, if that’s how it was going to be.

I focused on my friend and smiled back at him. “I thought I was going to be alone all night too.”

“Not to worry, because I’m here now.” He chuckled. “By the looks of things you might just wake up tomorrow without a hangover.”

“You want to bet?” I asked grinning, pushing the lonely girl to the back of my mind.

“Jerry, can we have a couple of drinks, please?”

*

I was too intoxicated to know what time it was, but it was a lot later that night and Shawn and I were completely fucked. Neither of us would even be able to tell you our own names if you asked. We clearly weren’t thinking straight and that’s why we found ourselves outside the hospital ready to help Bert ‘escape’.

“Are we just going to walk in there?” I wondered, looking at the brightly lit entrance.

Shawn shook his head, losing his balance in the process and nearly falling.

“Visiting hours are looooooooong over,” he drunkenly stated trying to straighten up from where he was standing on all fours. “We’ll neeeever get in.” He had on his thinking face as he stared at the hospital entrance. “I know!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Let’s leopard crawl… Wait, no… Gee, I think I need a doctor. I’m not feeling too well,” he groaned, falling into my arms.

Due to all the alcohol in my system I nearly dropped him on the ground. I giggled at how dramatic he was being and then started to drag him into the hospital. That was not an easy mission, since we both needed somebody to carry us in our current conditions.

“Help! Somebody help! My friend… he’s,” I stopped not sure what was wrong with him and I had to stifle a laugh. “What’s wrong with you?” I whispered loudly.

“I’m fucking dying, Gee!” he growled. “Try to take this seriously.”

I bit down on my lip to keep from laughing and said, “He’s dying. Please help him.” I begged desperately to anyone who would hear.

A nurse hurried over to us and wanted to know what was wrong.

“I’m dying,” Shawn croaked out still clinging to my shoulders helplessly.

“Are you sure you’re not just drunk?” the woman asked sternly with her hands on her hips.

“Miss, please. I love him. He’s my everything. I can’t lose him,” I pleaded, looking down at the boy in my arms.

“I love you too, Gee,” Shawn whimpered and then he started shaking with sobs.

It was like we rehearsed everything beforehand. Everything just fell into place perfectly. I was surprised by how good he was. I almost believed his act too.

“Okay, fine,” the nurse sighed, taking him from me and leading him over to a wheelchair. “Follow me,” she motioned, starting down the clean corridor.

As soon as we were out of sight of the reception area I turned down another hallway, losing sight of the nurse and Shawn. It took longer than I expected to find Bert’s room. My drunken little brain cells conveniently decided to forget where it was. Soon enough though, I stumbled into the right room, making such a noise in the process that Bert woke up swearing loudly.

“What the fuck? Who’s in here?”

“Shhhhh, it’s me!” I whispered loud enough for anyone to hear.

“Gerard? What the fuck are you doing here?” Bert hissed, turning on a small light by his bed.

I grinned stupidly at him as he surveyed me in the dim light.

“You’re drunk,” he stated, earning a giggle from me, “Yeah, I am. But I’m here to save you.”

“Save me from what?”

I waved my arms around wildly, gesturing the hospital room he was in.

“Shawn is keeping the nurse busy so we have to hurry up,” I told him. There were several unimpressed murmurs from the patients who shared a ward with Bert, but I was deaf to it all.

The dark-haired male scrambled out of the bed and found his clothes before pulling on his jeans in a rush. I clumsily tried to help him get dressed, but only ended up delaying the whole process.

My head poked out the door to check if the hallway was clear and when it was, I indicated that he should follow me.

“Gerard, why the fuck didn’t you get me out of here this afternoon when I asked you to?” Bert wanted to know. “This would’ve been a lot easier if you were sober, you know?”

“Shhhh!” I hissed at him over my shoulder as I slinked along the wall.

We were almost back at the reception when we heard a noise and turned around to see Shawn racing towards us still in the wheel chair and an angry nurse and security following shortly behind him.

“Run!” the intoxicated male shouted wide-eyed, catapulting himself out of the wheel chair as we reached the doors and stormed outside.

Adrenaline pumped through our bodies as we sprinted down the street, looking back every now and then to make sure that the hospital security wasn’t still after us. It felt like forever before we finally stopped to catch our breath.

“That was fucking awesome!” Shawn grinned widely. “We should do that again, though maybe with a different nurse. This one was angry. She nearly stabbed me with a needle.”

“You were dying, remember?” I reminded him with a chuckle.

“Still, that was some freaky shit. So, Bert you’re alive.”

“Thanks to you guys,” Bert nodded. “But honestly I feel like dying now,” he huffed, dropping down on the sidewalk and heaving for air. “I can’t remember the last time I ran like that.”

“That’s the result of smoking like a chimney,” Shawn teased, plopping down next to him.

“Not that I’ve had a single fucking cigarette all day,” Bert grumbled in response and I tossed my packet of cigarettes at him. “Thanks,” he muttered in response as he pulled out one of the cancer sticks and lit it. “Okay, so you two are drunk off you asses and I’m sober. Am I the only one who can see the problem here?”

“I’m always up for another round,” I grinned at him, because I already felt a lot more sober than was welcome. Sober meant emotions returning and that meant that I was returning to my miserable life.

Bert looked up from his place on the sidewalk, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“I know, Gerard, you’re always up for another round.”

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Shawn demanded, jumping back to his feet and pulling Bert up with him, earning a chain of curses from the latter.

“Need I remind you that I was just busted out of a hospital?”

“Shut up, it’s not like there’s anything physically wrong with you,” Shawn stated matter-of-factly. “Now are you coming or not?”

“Of course I’m coming,” the greasy haired male stated, dropping the cigarette down on the dirty pavement and stepping on it with the heel of his shoe. “Let’s go.”

Notes

As promised, here's chapter number two!
xoxo