Home Is Where the Heart Is

Gerard stumbled onto the night bus, his breathing uneven and heavy, his shoulders aching under the weight of his heavy guitar case and the duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He didn’t pack much; only a few spare items of clothing, a toothbrush and toothpaste, his phone, a charger, several pairs of tangled up earphones, body wash and shampoo he stole from his mum’s shower, the six hundred dollars he’d been saving up ever since school finished last semester, his guitar and notebook, a few pencils and his sketchbook. Even after packing light, just walking up a few streets to the bus stop exhausted him- maybe it involved a bit of mid-running when he glanced back at the watch on his wrist to realise he was going to miss the last bus of the night, but even so- if he was going to somehow manage to keep this up and lug around his shit without literally passing out on the sidewalk, he was going to need to build up a bit of stamina and strength.

He let out an exasperated sigh and gave a light-hearted, but still genuine smile to the bus driver, before handing his bus pass over to him, who returned all three action’s with a nod and an exchanged smile of gratitude and sympathy.

Gerard looked down the bus, and to his relief, it was completely empty- not that it was a huge surprise, it was the late hours of the night- before making his way to the back seat that spread out over the width of the bus.
He propped his guitar up against the window in the designated leg area, and dropped his duffle bag beside it, before curling himself up along the seats taking up at least 3 spaces, but it wasn’t like anyone else was going to get the bus at this time- well maybe, but there were plenty of other seats, so it was fine to assume he wasn’t taking up an old lady’s space because of his selfish needs.

Gerard was particularly conscious of other people’s needs, maybe that was one of his best attributes, but maybe it was one of his worst. If it weren’t for Mikey practically begging Gerard to get out, Gerard would still be at ‘home’, curled up in bed, waiting for the day to come that he could flee from his parents’ manipulative raft and pursue what he always wanted to do. Because Gerard cared so much for his little brother, who wasn’t actually that little anymore, and in fact wiser than most kids his age, Mikey had such an excellent understanding, he had an insight beyond his years, he could perceive even what Gerard couldn’t quite grasp. Gerard was smart and understanding, but he doubted too much, where as Mikey always seemed to know what to do, and for a fourteen year old who’s parents practically neglected him, he sure was pretty amazing, to Gerard at least.

That’s why Gerard could leave that house with a smile on his face and his bags on his shoulders with no intention of coming back, he trusted Mikey, he knew Mikey would do the sensible thing, he knew mikey had plenty of people to turn to, like Pete, like Ray, like Elena, like Alicia, really, the only thing Mikey now needed from his brother was for him to be happy and do what he wanted for once, because all Gerard’s life he had been looking after Mikey, he had been working his ass off every day, he put up with so much shit and rarely was he happy.
It took a while for Gerard to understand that, it took almost a year of endless, persistent begging on his brother’s behalf for him to actually fathom the fact Mikey didn’t need him anymore, not like he used to, Mikey just needed him to be happy.
And so here he was, curled up on the backseat of the night bus, eyes fluttered shut and breathing shallow, his earphones plugged in, pumping soft music into his ears whilst the driver dimmed the lights for the small boy’s sake, on his way to the outskirts of town to catch various trains all the way to New York.

From a very young age it had been Gerard’s dream to make his own way into the bustling city of New York to busk, it wasn’t with intentions to go far, really that was out of his league, he just wanted to play his music, do what he absolutely loved, in a city so marvellous. He first visited New York with school on a trip his first year into middle school, he didn’t go for the shopping, or because it was going to be a good time with friends, he originally went because of the art, his beloved grandma told him all about the galleries and the art college there, and he was instantly intrigued, and so, she payed for his trip. Though, throughout it all, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that art wasn’t his first option, it was just going to be easiest out of his two main interests.

At the age of fifteen, he got a job at a crappy fast food stall at a roller derby, he’d be rushing around all throughout his shift, one table, to the next, to the till, to another customer. He and one other person-who was actually a complete douche-worked there, six hours a night, six days of the week. The pay wasn’t particularly bad, but considering his co-worker got paid the same for slacking and doing shit all, it was unfair, to say the least. His co-worker got all the tips too, just because of his ‘good looks’ and false charm, Gerard never once received additional payment and he was always the sweetest-unless you count eleven-year-old Mikey Way with his equally as goofy friends, who’d tip ‘Mikey’s awesome big brother who rocks at video games and plays really cool guitar’ because it was Mikey’s brother, and Mikey told them to, because Mikey at that age could already understand how Gerard beat himself up about not being ‘good enough’ for a small tip.

After a year and a few months, he bought himself a new guitar with the money earned, a really expensive one that he couldn’t resist, not because it made him better, or made him feel better because he had an expensive guitar, he chose one which sounded so beautiful and melodic, with little sparkly bits engraved around the sound hole, because, well there was no real reason for bit that apart from it was really beautiful and it contrasted with the mahogany wood and- really Gerard was a slut for pretty guitars and he couldn’t avoid that, he just had to spend his money on that guitar, it was inevitable.

He started busking at that age, just in his local town, doing covers and stuff, it wasn’t really something he planned, he’d just sit down in a park and play, because his parents would tell him to shut up if he played all the time at home, and if they found out just quite how much Gerard had spent on that guitar rather than fund it to the ‘family’, they would quite literally kill him. Not that they paid much attention to their kids, certainly not to Gerard anyway, so it was easy enough to keep his guitar in a case that looked vaguely similar to the one his old baby acoustic used to be in, just about twice the size, and take it to school every day for music class then hide it under his bed when he got home.

But then other people started to pay attention to him, cross-legged on the park bench, playing his guitar, even singing sometimes; in fact, especially when he plucked up the courage to sing, some people even stayed to watch for a few minutes, or they’d slip change onto the bench next to him, they’d even turn around in their seats in the out-door café if he played in that particular spot in the park, they’d actually stop their conversations to listen, then clap or tell him he was good. He felt such a rush, just doing what he loved, feeling the passion, whilst other people enjoyed it too, and even gave him some money for it, when he never even considered he could get money for just doing what he loved. As soon as people started slipping dollars into his case, he immediately viewed that as a tip, and that was all middle fingers up to the dickhead who claimed all the tips in the fast food stall.

Then, once he finished school, he got two more jobs; so he had three going at once, one with late night and early morning shifts at a coffee bar, and one cleaning dishes at an upper-class restaurant, where he honestly had no idea why he even tried to get a waiter job there in the first place. He constantly looked like shit, he was clumsy as fuck, they were expected to wear tux’s and polished shoes and be at least presentable- and Gerard was far from that with an inability to spend his well earned money on a tux, as well as little sleep and about a ten minute time gap in the whole week to shower- but he tried, and he got paid for cleaning dishes, polishing wine glasses and folding napkins into ‘exquisite doves’ as he had explained to the owner who was a little more than curious as to what the fuck Gerard was doing spending his lunch break in the kitchen pre-folding napkins, so it wasn’t a total loss of time and effort. In fact, he quite enjoyed the origami napkin sessions he had whilst everyone else was eating, and smoking, and doing normal stuff people do on their lunch breaks, even if it wasn’t at all obligatory and he wasted an hour everyday on his phone app ‘origami adventures’ to find a new bird of the day to dazzle the customers with. Yes, he could’ve been spending his time sufficiently, maybe even showering- who knows.

His boss even considered upgrading Gerard’s roll to a waiter, even when he looked like he did, just because of his pure dedication to symmetrical table layouts and hanky arts. It was quite perplexing how an eighteen year old could be quite so lame, and devote so much time to do a job that wasn’t even his own. But he dropped too many glasses already in the kitchen, he certainly didn’t need to drop glasses on people and send them to hospital with shards of glass in their limbs, gain bad reviews for the restaurant service, and minus pay checks when he was sued by the authorities and health services on behalf of the many unfortunate people who suffered the consequences and aftermath of Gerard’s clumsy, and recurring mishaps- with glass shards in their legs.

So, it was probably for the best Gerard didn’t have his heart set on being a waiter, and in fact something way more independent, where only he could be at risk- not the innocent people ordering a simple glass of water to quench their thirst after a 20$ cubic centimetre of tiramisu.

So when he reached a grand total of just over six hundred dollars for nine months of his hard labour, he just quit his jobs like a responsible adult, and finally, after several years of putting up with his parents’ shit and their arrogance towards him and his little brother, he said something to them, he stood up and told them what was wrong and why the fuck he was not only so desperate to get away because of music and his adoration for the big city, but because he wanted to get away from them too.

He spent his childhood raising mikey, he did everything in his power to make sure his brother’s childhood wasn’t quite as shit as his own, sure, people had it worse, but he was sad, he was lonely, and when he turned to them, they’d only ever turn him away. They used to go on holidays all the time, leaving Gerard and Mikey by themselves, they never, ever, cared for them, days when Gerard would come home crying his eyes out because of the bullies at school, his mother would only turn around and snap, shout and tell him to just get a grip, do something useful for once, and maybe people wouldn’t make fun of him. His father would demand endless house chores, and Gerard could only oblige to them.

He grew a thick-shell, though, of course he had many doubts, far to many that would consume him, fill up his brain with endless chants and false statements; his insecurities always got the better of him, and sometimes he was too polite, too kind and a little too generous, too scared to speak. But if was something that he was passionate about, he would overcome the fears-eventually.

After blowing his fuse and standing up to them, his parents kicked him out, he was 18 after all, so it wasn’t like many people frowned it upon. It was irresponsible and irrational, though, it was careless- but that was all they’d ever been anyway, so it wasn’t much of a surprise.
He went to crash at his Grandma’s for a few nights, whilst he contemplated leaving Mikey to finally go to New York, and it took Mikey a few days, but soon enough Gerard unknowingly agreed to Mikey’s elaborate plan of how the hell he was going to make Gerard happy, by packing even less than the few things he owned and making his way across to New York.

Sure, Gerard was aware of the rules and policies, he knew you couldn’t busk in specific places, he knew you had to have permits for some places, he knew you couldn’t be too loud, and you should probably run from transit police, because people still got the hell fined out of them by the shit heads- he knew how often people got their belongings stolen, and their money, he knew he was going to have to sleep on side walks and end up eating little to nothing at all day some days, he knew there were bad people out there, and also others just like himself. He knew he was probably going to get fucked over at some point and it would all end disastrous, because his money was going to run out, and you don’t earn much busking unless you’re promoting an album- but that was illegal, and Gerard didn’t even have a fucking album to promote to start with- he was going to be homeless, in New York, because of his stupid love for his glittery guitar and the feeling it evokes when he plays, the bright lights and ambiance of sophistication tied in with freedom, rebellion and virtuosity. He was insane, to put it simply, he was out of his mind to do something so drastic and hazardous, when in reality, he had so much on the line, so much to loose; but if he had learnt anything in his many years of endless grafting and napkin crafting, he learnt the good things don’t come easy, and when they do come, you embrace the fuck out of them and you don’t spare a single thought for tomorrow.

Notes

aaaaa okay so i'm back!! i've been dying to write more stuff, i have so many stories in my head i want to elaborate on, but things have been kind of tricky lately and i'm only just getting back into the swing of things. so, yeah, here is a new story, and the other chapters are most definitely going to be longer, and things will actually happen in them, and i'm really excited for this story because i can talk about it on a more personal level i guess.

i've also got a wattpad!! My user is the same as on here, i haven't posted anything on it yet, but i'm considering uploading this story on there too? When i get a few more chapters done, anyway.

so yeah, please leave feedback and stuff, it'll be really appreciated, as with spelling and grammatical corrections, because i make typos and mistakes like that more often than not, and it's infuriating when i look back and i've spelt half the words wrong.

please comment, vote and subscribe, i'll try update as much as possible, i have a hell of a lot of work right now, and this is top procrastination considering i have over ten pieces due in two days and i've done absolutely none of them yet, but whatever, i'll update in the next few days :)))