Demolition Lovers

"Gerard how, how did you get this kind of money?" she asks, taking a step toward me with a hand delicately touching her lips.

I didn’t get this kind of money. I stole it. It was hands down the hardest thing for someone to do, but it was relatively easy for me, the solution was so damn obvious. But I can’t tell her that.

“Don’t worry about it, the only thing that matters is I got it for you. Its your’s, all your’s. Here.” Extending my arm with the bass in it to her, I feel my heart skip a beat when she stops herself just inches away from grabbing it. Pushing my hand out a little further, I attempt to close the chasm between her and the bass but she immediately snaps her hand back.

My eyes move sullenly from her smoove milky white hands up to her red puffy eyes behind my curtain of black hair.

“Gerard, you have to leave.” She flinches at the sound the bass makes when it slides out of my hand, and on to the floor.

Her pink pillowy lips part as if to say something, and I wait patiently through the various sounds that vibrate in her throat and the constant rubbing of her eyes as her chest heaves without rhythm. I would have held her, comforted her, but that’s not what she would have wanted. I could tell by the way she’s standing. Her body tells me what she wants, what she doesn’t. I know she wants the bass by the way she moves her ring finger on her right hand, and that she wants me by the way she is clutching the hem of her shirt with her left. It’s all so obvious, I know all of this. It’s so clear to me, but I just want to hear her say it.

“I want you to take this bass, and leave. Go home. Do not call me anymore. Do not come here again, ever. If you do, I will call the police and get a restraining order. Stay the hell away from me Gerard.” She hisses hatefully through clenched teeth and sobs.

“I’ve given you everything,” I gasp, pained as she turns on her heels and closes her apartment door, placing me alone with my peeved thoughts.

I don’t understand. I thought this would work. No, I knew this would work. This isn’t right, she’s ruining everything. This isn’t how it was supposed to happen, me and Darren had worked this out. Darren is a genius, he’s isn’t wrong there’s no way. He can’t be wrong. Darren has taught me everything I know, he knows everything. No, she’s wrong. She’s wrong!

“Why won’t you just admit you love me, that you want to be with me! I know you do, just stop denying it! You’re ruining everything! Stop torturing me!” I shout pounding on the door separating me from her.

“I’m not torturing you Gerard. It’s just,” Lindsey mumbles from behind the door.

“Just what!” I spit violently as I step back from the door, sizing it up for what I was about to do.

“This is wrong, I made a mistake.” she breathes at me, as I wrap two hands around the neck of the bass.

“All of those days after class when you would whisper those sweet things into my ear as you walked past me in past? All of those afternoons when you would lay across the desk and beg me to fuck you until you shaking uncontrollably from my touch? All those days when you would palm me under the desk in plain sight of everyone in the class? What about the nights you would call me to sneak out my house because you wanted me so badly and you just couldn’t wait? Where those all mistakes? What about you taking my virginity in the locker room showers after school on April twentieth of last year? Was that a mistake too? ” I shout, tightening my grip on the neck of the bass.

“Yes!” She snarled, “They were all terrible mistakes and I’m sorry Gerard! I’m sorry, and now you need to leave!”

“Sorry? Why, because we’re in love?” I demand while swinging the bass over my shoulder. The door flies open and I’m faced with the hate filled expression on Lindsey’s face.

“No! I’m sorry because I’m your teacher Gerard! I’ve stolen your innocence and I’ve taken advantage of you. You’ve never known love, and you never will if you keep hanging around trying to convince yourself that you love me. I don’t love you Gerard. I never have and I never will, so stop wasting your time on me. I used you. I just wanted sex and you were the only thing desperate enough to do anything for me. I’m sorry I had to tell it to you this way, but you just don’t fucking listen. Now if you don’t get the fuck out of here in the next five minutes you’ll be going to jail because I called the police and they’re on the way.” With that she slams the door in my face for the last time.

I scream as loud as my mortal body allows me to, as I swing the bass with the precision of a major league baseball player and watch it snap into two pieces against her steel red door. I bring my arm back and swing with the small piece that remained in my hands three more times until I’m holding what resembles an enlarged splinter. Letting myself slam to my knees I grab a handful of my hair in each hand and scream until my lungs are raw with the amount of strain I’ve put on my vocal chords.

With the anger still poisoning the blood barely flowing through my now visible veins, I stare at the remains of the bass. Taking three shallow breaths, I force myself to return to my normal emotionless self as I collect the shattered remains and placing them back into the duffel bag.

I stand up and tuck my shirt back into my pants, then I zip up my jacket and walk down the steps with the duffel bag in my hand. Completely retracing my steps, remembering where I had stepped and mimicking them on my way out of the complex. As I close the gate behind me, I approach Frank’s black trunk and toss the duffel bag in and walk over to the passenger side and taking my seat in the car next to Frank. His puppy eyes had been watching me ever since I had gotten to the gate of the complex.

“Gerard! You had me shitting myself, what took you so long?” He questions extending naked hand onto my forearm. I stare at his hand for a while. He loves tattoos, he’s always talking about how awesome they are and have badass I would look if I had some, but I always tell him no, because needles are gross. Especially tattoo needles, why would I jab myself in the arm repeatedly just to have a picture permanently etched on me, one that I might not even want a year from now. Yet, I think he should get a tattoo. It would suit him, many more than one. I retract my eyes from his hand and look out the window and shrug.

“Ugh! Who did you visit then, can you at least tell me that?”

“A friend.” I grumble coldly.

“I swear Gerard, I don’t know why I hang around you sometimes.” Frank huffs before turning on the car and coasting down the street to the red light.

“So, where to prince Gerard?” I Ignore his tone, he’s clearly upset and needs time to cool off. He needs me, he has no choice to hang around me because I’m all he’s got after his mother threw him out when we both got arrested that one time. He was so afraid, he didn’t have anyone else but me at that moment when I was holding him in that jail cell. When he looked up at me with his tear streaked face, that was the first time I saw anything in his eyes. It was the first time the reflection in his eyes showed me, and that is all I’ve been able to see ever since.

“Let’s go to Burning Image.”

Notes

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