This chapter isn't anything special in the way of what happens but rather, that I wrote most of it today while blasting Revenge trying to not think about the fact that I won't ever see them live.
So, in memory of The Black Parade and The Fabulous Killjoys. In reminiscence of My Chemical Romance, the band that saved my life so many times and continues to do so more often than I can realize I want to say thank you to each and every one of them for fighting for us for 12 years, even though they didn't have to.
And to the MCRmy I want to say "Stop your crying, helpless feeling, dry your eyes and start believing, there's one thing they'll never take from you". My Chem will alway be there for us, with or without shows, with or without new records. The idea behind it, the intention they had will carry on to translate to their fans and I refuse to let their lights fade
away.
So it's time to hit the red-line and up thrust volume out there.
Keep running, Killoys

They sat in uncomfortable silence for what couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes until, finally, the doorbell rang. The first time since Frank had sat down he looked at Gerard and caught him staring at him. Although it should have, it didn't feel awkward at all. He just nodded at Frank once, signaling, that he should get up and open the door, which he then did.
Frank always hated opening doors, no matter on which side he was standing. Even if you knew, who you were expecting you could never be entirely sure. You couldn't know how that person would show up, what mood they were in, how their face would shift, when they saw you behind the piece of wood. They could be happy, delighted to see you, humming a song under their breath and greet you with a hug (the latter part Frank did not like). But just as likely it was to find someone standing there angry, rage pumping through their veins. Those people would glare at you before you even had the chance to say hello and stump inside without asking to be let in.
This time Frank couldn't be less sure of what to expect. The man waiting at the other side of the door was a stranger to him now and Frank didn't know a thing about him anymore.

He inhaled deeply before facing Gerard's brother. The atmosphere in the apartment had changed after Frank had called him. The air around them felt heavier, weighing him down, as if it was all his fault, that Gerard had acted the way he had. Granted that was almost entirely correct, seeing his ex-best friend's little brother didn't exactly make him feel better.
"Mikey", he said flatly, not knowing what to do. The person in front of him now was no longer the skinny, shy 12 year old with the weird glasses but a grown man. The glasses had been replaced by contact lenses and his hair was dyed. Mikey was still incredibly thin but had a much stronger appearance and towered Frank by a couple of feet.
"Frank", Mikey replied breathlessly, he had obviously been running up the stairs. "He really met up with you.", he concluded astounded.
"Yeah", Frank muttered and lowered his gaze "We ran into each other, kinda...It was less voluntary. At least on his side." Nervously he played with the hem of his shirt.
"Oh, okay", the other Way commented, some of the hope vanishing from his face.

To Frank's surprise there hadn't been any anger in his voice at all. Frank had imagined him to punch him or at least yell at him but instead Mikey moved on with the conversation, eager to find out about the circumstances that required him here.
"Anyways," he looked at the shorter man, "what is it with Gee?"
Frank's head snapped back up. "Yes, right. Well" he chewed his lip ring uncomfortably, "he...I...we kinda met in that one coffee shop and well...he didn't want to talk to me so he left. I...I went after him cause I just wanted to explain everything and yes...he reluctantly let me in and then he...he-"
"Frank what is it?"
"He pulled a bottle of whiskey out of a box and poured himself a drink", he rushed those last words and concluded the overview of what had happened. Mikey stared at him wide eyed before his expression hardened and turned angry.

"Gerard! Arthur! Way!" He shoved Frank to the side and marched into the apartment. Frank stood in the doorway for a moment longer considering if he should just go and not interfere right now.
"What the hell were you thinking?", he heard Mikey shout and then decided to stay in case his help was needed. Cautiously he made his way back into the living room, where he found the older brother sitting on the couch. When Mikey suddenly appeared in front of him he buried his head in his hands.
"I don't know, Mikey. I'm sorry, I was just-" Frank could hear a quiet sob escaping the black haired man and winced. He hadn't meant to hurt him by calling his brother, was that why Gerard didn't want him to call Mikey? Because his brother would be disappointed and get angry with him?
But then Mikey softened and keeled next to Gerard, the sensitive person Frank once knew coming back to the surface.
"Hey, Gee, stop, man. I didn't mean it like that. I was just upset because you promised you would always reach out to me when it got bad again."
Gerard didn't move and all that Frank could see from him hiding his face was that now, he was crying.
"I'm so sorry Mikey. So sorry.", he sniffed, "I didn't mean to. I was just so overwhelmed and angry and I didn't know what to do." Gerard looked up at Mikey. Frank could see the tears, stained with eyeliner running down his cheeks. Suddenly Frank felt very out of place. Gerard rested his head on his brother's chest, who the soothingly patted Gerard's hair, trying to calm him down. The gesture seemed weirdly intimate and Frank felt like an intruder. He watched the siblings for a while longer until Gerard quieted down and sat back up straight.
"Just, please, Gee, please do not ever do this again. You're lucky Frank stopped you."
"I know.", Gerard looked back to the floor and these words coming from Mikey felt incredibly wrong. Essentially it had been Frank's fault that had put Gerard in this situation so he didn't feel like he deserved any gratitude for his actions.

Mikey stood up again and walked over to Frank.
"Thank you", he said genuinely.
"Doesn't matter", Frank murmured, "I kind of owed him."
He was still surprised, that Mikey hadn't acted out on him. Back in the days of high school the boys had been so protective of each other Frank could be glad that Mikey had been to young to attend the same school as them. If Mikey had been in high school with them, then Frank could have been sure that he would have beat some sense into him. Although he couldn't really imagine the younger Way beating anyone up, so it might have only been a conversation containing lots of swear words and threats. Maybe that would have been better in the end for everyone though...
"I know", Mikey commented, "this here doesn't mean that I'm not insanely pissed at you for what you've done. You're just lucky that our mom seems convinced you're back to being a decent human being."
Frank gulped heavily, "I...I know", he stuttered, "I'm so sorry, I really want to make it right again."
Mikey stared at him intently before lowering his voice and saying "I hope you succeed. If it's not to late for that."

“I think I should go now.”, Frank managed to say after taking in the picture of Mikey staring down on him with sad eyes and he still couldn't understand, why the younger Way was so inclined to have him around.
“Probably for the best.”, Mikey sighed and awkwardly patted Frank's shoulder, “Make sure you come back, though.”
“Yes, I still need to tell him everything.”, his glance shifted to Gerard who had one hand in his hair, the other one nervously rubbing up and down his thigh, trying to steady his shaking leg. That image reminded Frank too much of all the times Gerard had had to give a presentation in middle school and was so afraid of standing in front of the class, that they had to sneak into the bathroom minutes before the lesson started to calm him down. Frank would always hum one of their favorite songs and hug his best friend tightly, telling him it was gonna be alright, that he would do just fine.
Right now he felt the urge to do just the same only different from back then, this wasn't about dreadful pre-teens staring at him but about real adult-life problems and Frank had no idea if it was ever just gonna be okay.
“Right”, Mikey said and followed Frank's gaze. The shorter man shook his head ever so slightly and flashed Mikey a shy smile before retreating from the apartment. When he grabbed the doorknob he could feel his hands beginning to shake so as soon as he closed the door behind him he held onto himself tightly to prevent himself from trembling.

As soon as he was out of the apartment building he hailed a cab, which, as always took forever because nobody seemed to notice him in between the New York City skyscrapers. It was days like these that Frank felt invisible in the city. Too many people, not even half of them actually living here. Houses way too high so no one could fathom what it was like at the top. Streets so busy everything seemed like a haze of yellow cars and people rushing on the sidewalk as if every single one of them had to be somewhere this second or the world would perish. Sometimes this feeling of invisibility gave him peace. He would realize, that no matter how bad he fucked something up, in the end it wouldn't make any significant impact. He could just go on with his life and nothing in the city would change, everything would always be the same.
Today though, that knowledge tore him inside. Thinking about all these people going on and about with their usual days as if nothing changed made him go crazy. He dug the fingers of his left hand into his scalp pressing until it hurt, while keeping the other one up, hoping a cab driver would finally notice him.
If he screwed things up with Gerard, if he couldn't make him forgive him then nobody on these streets would know. Eight million people and everyone of them would go on with their normal lives, while Frank's shattered.

Until a few weeks ago none of this had seemed to matter. Sure, every once in a while he had regretfully thought of his childhood (what he had thought to be unrequited) love and wished he had done something differently but it never had this effect on him. Never did he feel like his chest would burst open because of all the things bottled up inside. Never did he feel like he had to restrain himself from crying in the middle of the day in an open street in Brooklyn.
Frank couldn't name one exact moment, when that had changed, it was more of a string of occurrences, that had made him this way.
First, one of his friends finding an old photo booth with pictures from so long ago. Then this shitty Smashing Pumpkins coverband at a club he went to playing a song Gerard used to love. After that, under a pile of old mail the invitation to class reunion, that he hadn't accepted and lastly just a couple of days ago his mother calling him to tell him, that she had talked to Donna Way recently and getting him updated on life back in New Jersey.

Frank gave up on getting a cab and decided to walk home instead, the not so fresh air of the city helping him clear his mind. He didn't actually live that far away and he could use the time to think. Finding a small alley next to a record shop Frank hid himself in the shadows and leaned onto the cold brick wall behind him. The early afternoon sun disappeared behind the tall walls, that Frank rested his head on and he could feel the slight chill that came with late August wind. He closed his eyes and desperately tried not to think about Gerard. Frank blocked out the sounds of the city roaring in the background, his heart rate increasing with every passing second, that he couldn't erase the picture of Gerard frantically pouring himself a drink flashing before his eyes. This was all his fault. If he hadn't been in that coffee shop today, if he hadn't insisted on talking to his old friend, if he hadn't gone to his apartment.
No, this had started even earlier. If he hadn't been so frightened in high school, if he hadn't let the other boys cloud his judgment, if he had never distanced himself from Gerard in that way, none of this would have happened. The other man would not be in the state he was now. He would have been able to enjoy a drink without relapsing, he wouldn't have to see a therapist for depression. Frank felt like he deserved the blame for every thing, that had ever gone wrong in Gerard's life.
He ran his hands up and down his body wanting to stop the tingling he could feel underneath his skin. The sudden numbness in his fingers spread through his hands and Frank felt small drops of cold sweat running down his neck. He brushed them away and wheeled around, a feeling of terror creeping up his back. With shaking fingers his held onto the bricks now in front of him and lowered himself to the ground kneeling on the dirty pavement. He knew what this was but he hadn't felt it in such a long time that he was completely overwhelmed and everything he had learned about dealing with panic attacks vanished from his memory
“Breathe”, he told himself staggering, “breathe”, he repeated.
Clutching his hands to his chest he shut his eyes violently and buried his head in his lap, not caring if anyone found him this way.
Minutes passed and slowly Frank began to be aware of his surroundings again, he felt his hands stabilizing and his heart beat normalizing. He let out a long ragged breath and opened his eyes again. Thankfully nobody was there, staring at him and so he weakly pulled himself off of the ground grabbing hold of the small parts in the brick wall that stood out enough to curl his fingers around them. He tried to recollected himself and focused on a graffiti on the opposite wall. A black and white man walking through a city full of colors, sparkling from the windows of houses and the streets. Frank contemplated the image for a moment during which he brushed the dirt off his jeans.

He took a step forward, the warm sun shining at him and he winced at the sudden brightness. Rapidly looking back to the cobblestone he gathered everything he had and finally found the guts to face the world again.

The next minutes Frank didn't feel like he was part of the city. He pulled his jacket close and stared to the ground, while finding his way back home The apartment building he had been living in for a couple of years now was nothing special. Just another collection of small flats, cheap enough, so that struggling artists and notorious fuck-ups like him could afford a place. It looked quite similar to Gerard's home, dirty, uninviting and discomforting. Apartment 6B was stacked with guitars, CDs and long abandoned hopes and dreams of a bright future.

Frank unlocked his front door and threw his jacket somewhat in the direction of where his coat hook was hanging. In his haste he very obviously missed but stepped over the bundle of cloth laying on the floor on his way into the kitchen. There was a half empty beer can from yesterday evening, which Frank grabbed and headed towards his small living room.
A blinking light on the house phone reminded him of his boss, who was probably furious because he didn't show up for work today.
Frank winced at the thought of facing him tomorrow but then have up worrying and turned on the TV to find something to get his attention, to turn his mind away from the events of the day. And it wasn't even over yet. Frank's eyes shot open, when he realized that. It couldn't be that late. Actually, it might not even be time for his shift yet. Frantically he jumped off the sofa to check the time.

According to his cellphone it was only 2pm. Frank groaned loudly, it felt like it was already ten in the evening and all he wanted to do was crawl into his bed and fall asleep and maybe even never wake up again. The day had drained him from all his energy and he already felt the tiredness spreading in his body. His shift at the bar he worked at started at five and he was sure he wouldn't make it till then. His gaze shifted back to the landline phone and he jerked, when he realized, that if he wasn't late for work it couldn't have been his boss to call him.
But who then?, Frank wondered and picked up the phone, curious who had attempted to contact him.
He pressed the button, which he figured was supposed to play the message that had been left for him. Frank wasn't an expert, when it came to technology. He was glad, that he had a cellphone he could operate and a laptop, which was easy enough to work with. Thinking about it, he couldn't remember, when somebody had ever left a message or even called his landline.
“One unheard message.”, the robotic voice informed him, “First unheard message:
Hi, Frankie, it's your mom. I wanted to ask you to come home next weekend. We're having guests over and they would like to see you. Let me know, if you can come. Love you”

The message ended and after the strange voice told him, that he didn't have any other ones to listen to he hung up and put the phone back on the coffee table in front of the couch.
Frank went home to see his parents every once in a while but he didn't really care to do so any time soon again. After today his plans for the weekend had consisted of bad movies, Doritos and claiming to be sick so he didn't have to work. More precisely he planned on not leaving his bed and blaming himself for every bad thing that Gerard had ever witnessed. But apparently that wasn't going to happen, although he could still fake being sick and ditch work today. It was partly true, too. He didn't feel good. He still hadn't fully recovered from his panic attack, a small tremor running through his tattooed fingers, whenever he pictured Gerard.
Involuntarily.
Frank didn't want to think of anything right now but he couldn't help it. His mind didn't obey his orders and again he found himself sitting on a cushion on the warm floor of his apartment imaging how things could have been, if he hadn't been such a jerk back then. Quickly he sent a text to the owner of the bar he worked at apologizing for not being able to make it today, saying he had a really bad cold and couldn't get out of bed. Then he let his head fall back against the sofa and figured, he should give his mom a call and let her know he was gonna come but decided against it. He could do that later. What he needed right now was something to distract him from the one person he had thought he'd long lost.

Pacing through the room he finally settled on a crap movie, which was so dull Frank could only laugh at the critic whose quote on the back cover described the movie as 'a profound masterpiece in cinematic history'

He turned off his phone, so that he wasn't tempted to call anyone remotely related to Gerard and sank into the cushions of his way too comfortable sofa. The movie started and Frank gave his best to engross all of his mind into the plot of it. It didn't take long though and his fatigue took over, the emotionally draining day pulling Frank into unconsciousness and the last thing he thought of was who those guests his mom had mentioned might be.

Notes

I apologize for the probably not so eloquent content I just really wated to post something today although writing about them certainly didn't do any good in trying to get over them but fuck it.
As I said,
Gerard, Frank, Mikey, Ray, what you did was amazing. You were incredible and nobody will ever forget that.
The Black Parade will never die.