"You might want to invite Mrs. Francis for a coffee this noon, Mr. Way," Matt said.
I sighed heavily. Matt was a really good person, and he really helped me succeed in selling and promoting my art, but meeting this Francis lady again wasn't in any of my plans in this life. Neither in my next life. Or the next. Well you get the idea.

"I suppose," I said, and got up from the sofa of the hotel room.
I was in Illinois for a few days, so I could convince an art company to expose my work in their next exhibition in Chicago.
Mrs. Francis was the company director, and I had to gain her approbation.
I crashed back on the sofa, sighing even heavier. "Is it really necessary?" I asked, looking at Matt with pleading eyes.

He chuckled slightly and nodded.
"Plus, I heard that your charisma got her trapped in your web, so I think convincing her to expose your art won't be too difficult," he said.
I looked at him, frowning and wearing my disgusted face.
He saw it and added, "So you can be done quickly and never see her again."

I bit my lip, passing my hand through my hair. I really reconsidered exposing my art in her gallery.
"Fine," I said.
Matt smiled and handed me my cell phone, with the number already dialed. I glared at him, and he held back a smirk before leaving the room.
I hesitated a minute and eventually pressed the call button. I didn't even hear the second ring because yeah, she had already answered.

"Hello, Gerard," she said, and I hoped I didn't cause the excitement in her voice.
But then I remembered what Matt had said and immediately thought that maybe, flirting with her a little would multiply my chances to expose and get her to talk about me to other companies.

"Good morning, beauty," I said and almost choked when the word 'beauty' came out of my mouth. It sounded so cheesy, and so not me.

She giggled slightly.

"Ah, I see you're still as charming," she said.
I could hear her smile. To be honest, she was pretty decent. She was around her twenties, maybe twenty-fourish. She had beautiful eyes, between green and blue, yet not hazel. Her hair was a dark-ish blonde with sweet curls. She really was decent. She just wasn't man enough for me. She wasn't man at all. I was more attracted to anything man related than boobs, you know.
"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" She asked.

"Well, I would like to know if you would be okay with having coffee with me?" I said, forcing my voice into a seductive tone.

I swear I heard her smile grow.

"Of course, yes, absolutely!"

"Alright, meet me at the café on the First Washington Street at one pm then?"

"Yes, ok, that's perfect, um, is it a date?"

I forced myself to chuckle.

"Well," I said, "We'll just see how it turns out."

"Ok," she said, probably grinning now, "see you there, Gerard." And she hung up.

I sighed again, and threw my phone on the sofa.

I walked to my closet, and picked a random black button-up shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. I hesitated about if I should wear a tie or not and eventually closed my closet door. I put the clothes on and walked to the kitchenette.

Matt was leaning on the counter, a bottle of soda in the hand.
"So, how did it go?"
He squinted a bit, "Oh, I'm sure Mrs. Francis will approve of the outfit."

I smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, I'm meeting her at the Atwood café," I paused, and looked at my watch, "in about thirty minutes, shit."

Matt put his hand on his mouth to hold back a chuckle, and covered it by coughing.

Laugh while you can, moron.

I wasn't that close to the Lake Michigan. I was about, well twenty minutes away from there by bus.
Bus, because yeah, Matt said we wouldn't need my car here because we wouldn't move too far from the hotel.
Damn you, Matt.

I sighed and took my leather jacket. I put it on and walked to the door.

"Have fun, Mr. Way," Matt mocked.

"Screw you," I said as I heard him laugh.

I closed the door, and ran to the bus stop as a bus had just arrived. I climbed in and took a seat. I would make it in time.

During the whole ride, a man was staring at me. Not the staring that says 'whoa, I like what I see.' No, not at all. The sort of staring that makes you uncomfortable. The sort of staring that says he could read me, know everything about me since the day I left my mother's body. I suddenly felt naked, and ashamed of what the man could possibly read from my past.

Fortunately my stop arrived and I hopped out of the bus, feeling better already.
I walked to the Atwood café and saw she was already there, leaning against the wall right next to the door, bringing her cigarette to her lips to light it up.

I pulled out my lighter as I walked toward her without her noticing and took the cigarette from her lips, lighting it up and dragging on it.

"A pretty woman like you shouldn't flirt with cancer sticks. There are other types of stick you could get on well with," I said, and looked at her.
She blushed and looked down. I smirked and took another drag before giving her back the cigarette.

"Thank you," she said, still blushing.
I smiled and she looked down. Where did all her confidence go?
She looked up at me again and put the cigarette out.

"Shall we go inside?" She said, smiling.

I opened the door.

"Ladies first," I said.
She looked down again to hide her red cheeks, and walked into the café. She walked toward a table in the back of the room and I followed her. She sat down and patted the seat next to her. Couldn't I sit in front of her?
I sighed quietly.
I eventually sat down beside her and we ordered.

Then she looked at me, as if she was waiting for me to say something.
Ok, yeah maybe I should say something, eh?

As I opened my mouth, she cut me off. Doll, you don't want me to get mad now do you?
"So, why did you want to see me?" She asked.

"Well," I said, "first, since I was in Chicago, I immediately thought about meeting you."

She smiled.

"That's nice of you," she said, "I won't lie Gerard, I've been thinking about you quite a lot since the last time I saw you."
Um, oh. I smiled, hoping she wouldn't see I really wasn't pleased about her thinking about me.
"Especially since I've found this gallery for the exhibition, um, would you be ok with exposing your work there?" She asked.

Haha. Inner laugh. This was too easy, where's the trick.

This time, I didn't try to fake a smile, but more tried to contain a wide grin and, fail. I was beaming like a fool.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, that'd be pretty bada- uh, awesome."
I really didn't fit amongst this type of people. I couldn't curse, at all. Never. And swear words were like, seventy percent of my vocabulary.

"Good, you'll have to send me some pictures of your new artworks, and I'll pick what fits with the theme of the exhibition," she said.

I couldn't help the grin. It had been really too easy.

"Thank you Jonna, really," I said, "What is the theme, exactly?"

"Ah, come on, it's nothing. You're talented, it's the least I can do," she said, grinning as much as I did. "And the theme is something dark, yet something that gives you hope, you know? Some kind of disease we all have deep inside that will eventually kill us, although being anything but an enemy. Something bad and scary, that you can't help but love," she explained.

Thrilled is the least I could be. Man, I had new ideas fussing in every part of my brain. I just wanted to unleash my imagination and create, right about now.

"I, you know, I think I'm going to work on new pieces as soon as I get home, because fuck, I just want to!" I said and put my hand on my mouth when I realized I had said 'fuck' in front of her.

But she just giggled and kissed my cheek. Erm.

"Well, then go ahead, go home and create, dumbass!" She said, still smiling.
But, I, I was shocked, did she just, swear? In some way, she kind of did, didn't she?

"Don't look at me that way!" She said.

"Well, hey, the worst thing I had heard you say was 'idiot'. Let me enjoy this moment," I said chuckling and slightly poking her shoulder.

She leant in, kissed me, and pulled away immediately.

"I'm sorry, I- I've got leave," she said, and got up.
I heard her mutter some curses under her breath while she got out of the café, and that amazed me, that she could say such words, yet, stay so classy.

I stayed there another two minutes before realizing I could actually get back to the hotel.

I paid the bill, and got up.

I walked to the bus stop and damn I waited like, what, fifteen minutes in the pure cold of Chicago. Those few minutes truly felt like an eternity.
The bus eventually appeared, and I propped myself up from the wall I was leaning against.
I climbed in and sat at the front, since it was the only seat where no one would be next to me.
But in a blink of an eye, the man I had seen in the bus when coming to the café, was sitting next to me.

I kind of jumped in surprise, because he really came out of fucking nowhere.
I looked at him questioningly and he smiled, all his ugly yellow teeth showing.
His smile suddenly vanished and he was looking sad. But he didn't seem sad because of something he had lived, more for something he saw in me. That's when I realized his hand was on my shoulder. I snapped it away quickly. He didn't look offended, just, still pitiful for me.

"What?" I snapped.

"You think you got through it, but you didn't. You're still a tormented soul," he said calmly.

"Um, excu-"

"-Isn't it painful to pretend everything's fine?" he cut me off.

I looked at him mouth hanging open, what the fuck did he want?
I couldn't talk; I wanted to cry actually, with no reason. Just to unleash the rage and pain. It's as if he had compelled me into realizing how bad I was actually feeling.

"If you could change what you lived, if you could help your young self get better when no one was there to help you, would you?"

I still didn't manage to say a word. I was visualizing my past, those day spent in the dark, fucking myself up.

"I, I.."

"Take this," he said, handing me a weird turquoise necklace, "and squeeze it while falling asleep."

"W-what is it going to do?" I managed to say.

"Help you," he said, and I suddenly wasn't in the bus anymore, but in the street of the hotel.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled under my breath.

I put the necklace in my pocket, and walked to my hotel room to be greeted by a sarcastic Matt.

"How was it, then? Had fun?"

"Yeah, she's exposing my work," I said absent-mindedly. And it hit me then, she had actually kissed me. I made a disgusted face and ran to the bathroom to rub my mouth with water.

Matt followed, apparently laughing his butt off.

"Oh," he managed to say between two chuckles.
His laugh started dying and he rubbed his eyes, "Did Mrs. Francis rape your mouth in any way?"

I was resting on the sink as I turned to glare at him. He coughed uncomfortably and got out of my sight.

I looked in the mirror, and for one split second, I didn't see me. Or not the thirty year old me.
As weird as it can be, I saw the fucked up nineteen year old me. Eyes red with dark circles around them from tiredness. Pale face, dried lips.
I gasped when I saw it again.
I had sworn to myself I would never look like this again, though, that's what my inside still looked like.

I splashed water over my face and rubbed it with a towel before getting out of the bathroom.
I felt the weird necklace the man had given me in the bus, pressing on my thigh. I got it out of my pocket and threw it on the bed.
"Stupid bullshit," I muttered.

"What did you say? Did you call me, Mr. Way?" Matt asked from the little kitchen.

"No Matt," I sighed, "I didn't."

He walked to the living room, where I was now, and looked at me slightly concerned.

"What has gotten into you Mr. Way? You seem seriously bizarre. What went wrong out there?"

"Nothing," I said and faked the biggest smile of all time, showing my every teeth, "I'm totally fine."

"I can know very well when you, sir, are lying. But I'm not forcing you into telling me anything," he said, "just, if you- you know, talking," he trailed off and ended the sentence with an annoyed whimper, and then left the room.

I laughed to myself, because he was the one acting weird right now.
I sighed then, walked back to the bedroom, and saw the necklace shining on the bed, and sighed another time. What could it possibly do? How the hell would a necklace help me get 'better'?

I took it in my hand and started fiddling with it until it fell.
It wasn't broken but it was making a weird noise. Like, a baby chipmunk cry. I picked it up and it stopped immediately.

I really looked at it for the first time –I wasn't really paying attention to its features before—and started analyzing it.
It had white and turquoise beads that lead to a pendant in the form of a flower. This same pendant led to another big turquoise bead.
The flower was an old dark silver, and in the middle was a tiny little baby, who seemed to float on water. The baby had an oddly sad and fearful expression.

I frowned and got back to playing with it while walking to the living room.
Matt wasn't there, I didn't know where he left, or why, actually.
I sat on the sofa and looked intensely at the necklace again.

Ever since the man had told me I was still a tortured soul, -- even though it was only ten minutes ago -- I didn't find purpose in my life anymore. Like, it crushed me somehow. I felt like I had gone back to the me that just hid in the dark, and fucked everything up. And I was really curious about what this item could possibly do to help that.

I mean, maybe I could just try? I've got nothing to lose. I could just lie down, and squeeze it and see what happen, couldn't I?

I lay down reluctantly, and closed my eyes.
I hesitated for a minute about squeezing the thing.

My eyes flew open and I got up. What the fuck? Everything the man had said was just a lucky shot, seriously, who hasn't been depressed once in his life? This magical thing was pure bullshit, correct me if I'm wrong, but what could a necklace do except being itself, and not fucking move or unleash stupid powers, eh?

I put it around my neck because when it was in my pocket, it just disturbed me.
Matt still hadn't shown up, and I found it weird because, where could he possibly go? I hadn't even heard the front door.

"Matt?" I called.

No response.

"Seriously Matt, what the fuck?" I walked past the kitchen and to the bathroom.

"Jesus!" I exclaimed.
I hadn't found Matt yet, but once again, I saw the nineteen year old me in the mirror. It wasn't for just one second this time. It stayed like this. It stared at me, blanker than ever. Eyes still red.

"Help," he mouthed. And I sure hadn't moved my mouth at all, "HELP!" He screamed.

"Wow," I said backing from the mirror and getting out of the bathroom because fuck, what was that.

The necklace, of course. I put it off, keeping it in my hand, and went back to the mirror. I saw the thirty year old me, with the nineteen year old me flickering every now and then. I dropped the necklace, which started the annoying noise again, and the nineteen year old me wasn't appearing anymore.

Ok. So what, it made me hallucinate? I was certainly tired, that's fucking all.

"What is this horrible sound, Mr. Way?" I heard Matt say, in addition of the flush noise.
So, he was in the toilets this whole time. Ok. What.

I picked up the necklace, and the sound stopped. Really, should I start believing there was something weird with it?

"What sound?" I asked, wearing an innocent face.

He came to the bathroom and cocked an eyebrow, "Never mind, sir," He said. I really had to improve my lying skills, "I'm going to the groceries, anything special you'd like?"

"Um, no I'm fine, thank you. You can take what you want, Matt," I said smiling, and handed him thirty bucks.

He smiled back and headed out. I sighed. Now that this necklace revealed itself to really be, well, supernatural, I just wanted to try what the man had told me to do.

I went to the king sized bed and lay down, closing my eyes and taking care of squeezing the necklace properly. I had no idea what I meant by properly, but I still did.
I waited a few minutes but it didn't seem like anything had happened, except that, when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a dark room. The necklace started the noise again, and I just closed my eyes hoping the dark room would vanish.

I waited for the necklace to stop screaming to open my eyes again, but it just wouldn't.

"Stand up," a hoarse voice told me, "keep your eyes closed."
I did so, and a blinding light hit my eyelid making me squint quite hard. I heard somebody chuckle, and say, "Never take the necklace off of you," and then nothing more.
No more light, no more noise, beside my breath. Though, I heard my breath from in front of me.
I reluctantly open my eyes, and gasped. I was in my basement. The basement I used as a bedroom, when I still lived with my family.

I almost fell on my ass when I saw myself sitting on my bed, classifying random shits I used to take to get wasted.
The worst was that I remembered this moment. It was probably the worst part of my fucked up era. I really was doing whatever went through my head, even if it was the most dangerous thing in the whole wild world. I was testing my limits and 'oh well' if I died.

Seeing myself like this, pills all over the bed, brought a bitter taste to my mouth.
I didn't know what to do by then. I knew I would scare the shit out of, well, myself if I stepped closer.
But wasn't it why I was there, though? Not to scare the shit out of my young self, but to actually get close to him, and get him out of this misery. Help my young self, make me feel better and gain the self esteem I'd never gotten the chance to have.

I cleared my throat and he snapped his head up, fear in his eyes.

"Hey, it's ok, calm down, I mean no harm," I said calmly.
This was going to be difficult, now, wouldn't it.

"What the fuck?" He said, "Who are- what?"

Ok, was I allowed to say I was him? They didn't give me, like, fucking rules or things to respect so I guess I wasn't breaking the law if I told him?
I took one step closer, and he moved back in the bed.

"B-be careful, I know karate!" He said.

"My ass you do," I laughed, and he frowned, "I know you don't."

"And how is that?" he snapped, sounding a little unsure.

"Ok first, calm down, I'm not here to hurt you," I said, and he relaxed a little, "good."
I stepped closer and sat on the edge of the bed.

He had brought his knees up to his chest and he was resting his head on his knees.
I stayed silent for a minute, searching a way to actually tell him I came from the future. Knowing myself, he would either believe it and be thrilled, or fucking laugh his butt off and then freak out. Depends on how high I, I mean, he was. This was confusing.

“Uh,” I said and rubbed my nose, “don’t you think we look a bit like-“

“Holy shit, why do we look so much alike? You’re like, the old me,” he cut me off, speaking calmly, “are you from the future or something, man?”

Ok why was everything that easy today?

So his sudden reaction to our resemblance proved how high he already was.
I cleared my throat.
Even though he had pretty much guessed everything, he was wasted, and wouldn’t try to understand half of what I was going to say. He would listen, react, freak out, and try the lame karate moves -- the ones he thought he knew how to do-- on me.

I stood up and started cleaning the bed, taking every pills, and the little bags of weed and coke.

“Wow, hey, what the- man give it back,” he whined, getting up lazily.

He grabbed my arm and I easily pushed him away.
He jumped on me, and I fell on my back. I didn’t remember being that fucking heavy at nineteen?

“Ungh, get off of me,” I said.
And he actually did get off of me, putting a strand of hair behind his ear. I sat up and he looked sorry. Ok, he was glaring a little but he really did look sorry.

“Seriously, why do you- I mean please, you can’t take those away from me,” he whined again.

I felt a stabbing ache in my chest. This was the worst, most painful thing I saw.
Seeing my young self, so dependant, unable to live without this. The pleading, yet wasted and sorrowful look in his eyes. I'd never had an outside view of myself, and I guess if I had had one at this time, I would’ve quit all of this dumb shit I thought was helping me.
He looked so desperate; waiting for me to give him the drugs back, just like a puppy would wait for- oh.

“Quit the puppy eyes,” I said, “won’t work on me.”

And he started glaring again. I used to be such a manipulator seriously. Do you realize my young self almost tricked me? I almost forgot how, younger, I used the puppy eyes all the fucking time.
I still felt the aching in my chest, though, because it was really saddening me to actually see –and not just remember-- how destroyed and crashed I was.

“Are you going to tell me who you are, then?” he asked sitting back on the floor.

“You pretty much guessed it already,” I mumbled.

“Huh?”

“I’m you, I mean you’re me, we’re the same. I’m here because I was given the chance to help my young self. And yeah, here I am with you who's more fucked up than ever,” I sighed.

“Huh?” He repeated.

“What?”

“Do you really think I can believe half of the shit you just said or?” he asked, an amused smile on his face.
I sighed again.
“Prove it,” he said.

“Fine,” I said, “ask.”

“Ok, uh, my brother’s name?”

“What, seriously? Man, for all I know, it’s not something secret,” I said.

“Well answer, then?”

“Mikey,” I said in a 'duh' tone.

“Your mouth does the same twitch on the side as mine when I speak,” he said, looking closer, “ok, harder, who am I crushing on?”

And to that, my friends, I stayed clueless. I couldn’t remember crushing on anybody at nineteen. I probably never had the guts to go talk to them and ask them out, and ended up alone and fucking myself up even more.

“Uh, was I- are you seriously crushing on someone?” I asked.

“So I won’t ever be with him,” he said looking down, and suddenly up again, “not that I believe you,” he added.

I chuckled slightly before going back to my concern, did I really crushed on some guy so bad it could crash me to know I wouldn’t ever date him? Why couldn’t I remember him?

“Don’t you have any other question?” I asked, hopeful.

“Well, no, not really,” our gaze met, “will I really look like that?”

“So you believe me?”

“It’d be in my favor, wouldn’t it? I mean, I wouldn’t complain believing I would really end up looking that good,” he said smirking.

“You know, it feels weird. What you just said. You’re telling yourself that you think you’re sexy, I feel violated.”

He snorted and looked away.

“Wait, where are you going to stay? I can’t really hide you here, I mean, Mikey would see you, and-“

“Mikey’s here? Can I see him?” I asked desperately, my eyes widening.

“What? Why? Does anything happen to him in the future?” He asked, horror on his face.

“You, well, um, crap. I don’t know if I can tell you?” I mumbled, looking down.

“Please?” he looked really concerned, and who was I to hide the truth from myself?

“You’ll drive him home wasted someday and will have a car crash. He will lose his ability to talk or move,” I said, guilt rising through me.

After the accident I never drank or did drugs again.
I still hadn't gotten over what I did to Mikey though, and that was understandable, wasn't it?
I had never seen him since. Or maybe two or three times in the month after the accident.
But every time I came, his pulse got too fast and it was too risky for his health. The hospital said I wasn't allowed in his room anymore but just at the window of it.
So I decided I wouldn't allow myself in the hospital anymore.

Though, I got pretty optimistic after telling it to my young self. I mean, he could possibly change it. I would get him to sober up and none of that would happen.
He saw the sudden glint in my eyes and got my thought. Thank God we thought alike. Ok that's legit but shh.

"I'll try my best," he said hopefully, "I swear, I'll stop."

"Good," I said.

We stayed silent a few minutes.

"You need a cover up!" he suddenly exclaimed.

"Wha-"

"Yes, something to tell people when they meet you? You're not going to go out saying you come from the future, are you?"

"I guess not," I said, "I can say I'm your cousin?"

"Yeah, mom and dad are totally going to eat that. It's not like they would know if you're from the family or not." He said.

"Get the sarcasm off, shithead."

"What did you call me?"

"Shithead?"

"You're going down," he said and jumped on me. He started hitting me playfully as I tickled him on the most ticklish spot I knew I --so he-- had.

"Ow, no! Stop, ok, ok! You can call me whatever you want!"

I stopped and the basement door opened as a kid I knew as my brother came in. It took me my everything not to take him in my arms.

"Whoa! My eyes. No. I don't want to see you and your last male cougar shot doing dirty things in this fucking room or house or fucking town, Jesus," he said, hiding his eyes all along.

When you actually looked at it this way, the young me was straddling me and my hands were resting on his waist. And what shouldn't be uncomfortable, became the most awkward situation in the whole world.

The teenage me laughed, though. Yeah, wastedness.

"Mikey, first I've never brought any male cougar or cougar or, actually, anyone home because.. because," he said, and yeah, it's not like I had a lot of success with whatever love related at that time, "second, he's my uh-"

"-boyfriend?" Mikey cut him off.

I pushed Gerard junior --that's how I am going to call him-- off of me and stood up, brushing my now dusted clothes.

I held a hand for Mikey to shake, as he had, by the time, uncovered his eyes.

"I don't know where that went, I don't want to touch it," he said, looking at my hand like it was some piece of garbage.

I laughed and kept myself from hugging him. I had missed all of this sarcasm.

"I'm not with Gerard," I said, smiling.

He reluctantly shook my hand and brushed past me to talk to Gerard junior I presume.

"He looks just like you," Mikey whispered not quietly at all, "it's weird, I think he's not clean. What if he's from the future and is here to kill me for something I would do to you in the future? Wait what."

Gerard junior shot me a glance, and I nodded.

"You actually got it all right. Except he's not here to kill you. More likely, to protect you from me."

Mikey turned to me and frowned.

"What?" he said, "Oh god, don't tell me I'm going to die young! I want to live, damn!" He whined over-dramatically.

"You, um, don't worry," I said.

It was surprising how the two of them had believed it. I mean, they probably are the only ones who would believe such a story without asking any questions.

"Whatever," he said, "you need a cover up!"

Ok I really missed my brother, and the time where we both had the same ideas.

"I thought-"

"You could be Gerard's personal art teacher?" Mikey cut me off.

I looked at my young self for approval and he nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh my god, will my drawings get better in the future?" he asked.

"Definitely better, you- we will even live from our art," I said.

He sat back, his mouth hanging open.

"This is perfect," he said.

And then it hit me, what if the fact I told him about his art success made him take it for granted already? I actually worked a lot to get where I am now, he couldn't destroy that.
That's really when I understood I had to be careful about what I said. To get my young self sober up without totally re-writing my future would not be easy, at all.

"Hey, uh don't take it for granted ok?" I said, "I'm not sure how this whole time travel thing works, and I have no idea on what kind of an impact the words I'm saying right now could have on our future, like, you know, the way it could change it."

The young me nodded, quite enthusiastically and Mikey frowned.

"Yeah, so you're going to be Gerard's personal art teacher and your name-"

"-No way Mikey, I choose the name." I cut him off, and actually tried to come up with a good name but couldn't.
There were a damn lot of names and I couldn't come up with a good one.
I ended up thinking for three whole minutes while Gerard Jr. and Mikey were fiddling with random items in the room.

"Ok that's it," Mikey said, reaching his patience limit, "your name is going to be Peter."

"No way! No way Mikey, there's no single hell out of a way that I'm going to be called Peter!" I exclaimed and my young self nodded.

"I agree, like, why not Brian when you're at it," Gerard Jr. said.

And I could see Mikey really considering the Brian thing.

"You are not thinking about it Mikey, are you," I said a little threateningly.

"What if I was? Ok, what about Arthur? It's your second name so it suits you, doesn't it?"

I brought a hand to my hair and thought a little. Arthur would do. I think.

"Yeah," I said, "yeah ok."

Mikey made a woop noise.

"What about we get out?" Gerard Jr. said, "I mean, get some coffee?"

My eyes lit up at the idea of having my first coffee of the day since I hadn't been drinking the one with Jonna.

"Yes, yesyesyes," I said and Mikey shot me a knowing look as he caught the craving-for-coffee look in my eyes.

We all climbed upstairs and it felt like the good old days. I had never realized how much I had missed it. How much I had missed going upstairs to hug my mom, steal Mikey’s coffee, and get out for a smoke.
The scent of whatever my mom was cooking in the kitchen and the warm feeling of being in this house again overwhelmed me. I couldn’t find back what had gotten me into doing drugs and stuff. I had an easy life, let alone the bullying. I seriously could have been happy. I should have been happy.

“Hi mom,” the young me said, hugging her. I really needed a hug from my family, too, right now. “Um, this man here is Ge- Arthur, he’s my personal art teacher,” he continued.
And my- fuck, our mom was staring blankly at me, a little shocked.
“He does it for free,” he added, and she unfroze immediately, greeting me with hug.

Could I say hallelujah here? Because hugs frome my mom, man.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, and it felt like the weirdest thing on earth to say.

She smiled.

“Are you staying over for dinner, Arthur?” she asked, and it took me some time to realize that I was Arthur.

“Oh, um, if I’m not bothering?” I said.

“Come on,” she said and Mikey went to whisper something in her ear. Her eyes grew wide, “oh my God, I am deeply sorry Arthur, your wife can rot in hell, of course you can stay here we have a spare ro-“

“-No he can sleep down there with me!” My young self exclaimed.

Our mom narrowed her eyes but eventually shrugged and smiled at us.

So, according to Mikey, my unexistant wife had done something bad to me, like, pushed me out of her house, leaving me with no place to sleep at.
He really came up fast with this lie.

“Oh Gerard, before I forget it, like the air-head I am, your friend, Frank, he called twice saying he still needed your help at the store? So move your ass down there,” she said to my young self.

Frank… Was he the guy I was supposed to have crushed on?

The young me blushed a dark red, and oh..

“Shall the two of us go?” I asked him.

He nodded, biting his lip.

Notes

So here is the first chapter. Hope you liked it!
Um, I'm not sure yet but I think every chapter's title will be inspired, or taken from the song Painting Flowers by All Time Low, so I probably won't own the titles of the chapters. :)
[url=http://i1157.photobucket.com/albums/p581/Pedicunt/1056993681_gP7SN-L.jpg]Jonna Francis.[/url]
[url=http://i1157.photobucket.com/albums/p581/Pedicunt/paintingflowersnecklace.png]The ugly necklace ;).[/url]