Be My Emergency

I hurled over the nearest trashcan. I had been to many a punk show, had gotten drunk at many a punk show, but this one really got out of hand. Ever since 9/11, I couldn’t remember a night where I hadn’t gone out and gotten hammered. How long had it been since then? A week? A month? I looked down at my watch, October 1st. Had it only been three weeks? Before I had time to contemplate the tragedy further, I once again released everything inside of me into the can, collapsing on the ground.

A pair of twiggy arms tried to pull up my husky 22 year old body. “Gerard I’m not putting up with your shit tonight. I have a test in my econ class in the morning” I managed to focus on my younger brothers face amongst the spinning of the room. He was wearing a beanie, hiding his greasy hair, his glasses sliding down his nose and almost off his face, but Mikey didn’t reach up to push them back, he wasn’t letting go of me,his big brother. I nodded my head, letting Mikey pull me up. I remembered why I brought him out in the first place, to see the show. Instant guilt filled me. How many times would I ruin things like this for my brother? I felt him try to pull me through the crowded room. By now I was sober enough that I could walk on my own, so I patted his back to let him know I was okay. He looked at me sympathetically, like one looks at a stray dog he gives his leftovers to. We walked home in a comfortable silence, until Mikey broke it.

“Gerard I’m- Gerard I’m.. concerned” He stuttered, pushing his sleeves around his hands.

“About?” I could hear my voice come out of my mouth, congested, slightly slurred. God I was a fucking mess. I ran my hands through my greasy hair. When was the last time I had managed to shower?

“You. Not because of tonight, well yeah kind of because of tonight, but mostly because of…”

“Because I quit my dream internship and moved back home and haven’t stopped drinking since those fuckers killed thousands of innocent people?” i smirked a little, knowing I had read my brother's mind.

“Yeah. I know you're dealing with it the best you can dude, but uh, you’re not really dealing with it at all. I know you don’t want to go to a therapist but I think-”

“Mikey, I’m fine. Dr. Anderson prescribed me a new prescription last month. I’m not fucking depressed dude” I swayed, turning him towards me on the dimly lit sidewalk. He was taller than me now, my baby brother, the college freshman.

“I just think you need something to take your mind off of what happened. That’s not alcohol” He looked embarrassed to say it, and I was certainly embarrassed to hear it.

“I’ve got Natalie too…” I rambled, trying to use the girl I fucked every once in awhile but didn’t really care about to get him to let it go.

“We all have a Natalie dude. And you know you don’t give a shit about her, so why pretend? I just… I just want you to take this guys phone number-”

“oh so you think a dude will take my mind off of all my shit?” I spat.

“Not like that man, goddamnit just listen to me okay? His name is Matt. He’s a drummer I met a year ago in a comic shop okay? You said when all this first happened that you wanted to save lives, to change things for the better. Just give this guy a call. My friend Ray said he was interested in joining a band that wasn’t a fucking ska band”

“He’s still in that fucking skate park band?”

“Unfortunately” my brother laughed under his breath. “I’m serious Gerard, I believe in you” He looked at me, his heart breaking behind his eyes. How could I say no.

“Alright dude, I’ll hit him up. I’ll even try writing a fucking song or something. Just know that I only give a shit because of you” I mumbled. Mikey smiled at me, pushing his glasses up his nose. We walked home the rest of the way in silence.

I woke up the next day, head pounding, room spinning, nothing new. I looked over on my nightstand and saw that I had slept in until eleven again. Sighing, I stood up. I was only in my boxers and undershirt, but nobody was home, so I was free to roam the house. I got downstairs to try and find something to eat. On the fridge were two phone numbers written on a napkin.

“Don’t forget!

Ray- 347-925-8866
Matt- 347-878-6523

-Mikes”

I groaned, remembering my promise to my brother. Begrudgingly, I picked up the house phone near the fridge and dialled Matt’s number. It rang for so long I considered hanging up, but then a deep voice answered.

“Yo this is Matt whats up?” I was shocked at the chipperness.

“Uh hey Matt this is Mikeys Brother Ger-”

“GERARD FUCKIN WAY HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” This guy sounded like if i had been standing in the the same room as this guy he would have picked me up and swung me around.

Laughing I answered “I’m uh, I’m doing alright man. I called because my brother wanted me to see if you would be interested in joining our band” Mikey wasn’t going to get out of this one so easy.

“I didn’t know baby mikes was in a band” Matt bellowed.

“Yeah, crazy right” I smirked,

“I thought you were with Cartoon Network now?”

I grimaced “ I, Uh, I was in the city when the twin towers fell, and I , I couldn’t really justify going back and doing bullshit commercial art after watching people die. It just wasn’t right. I’ve felt called to this for so long and I think I’m ready to give it a try now. I think I’m ready to fight the good fight, you know of not for myself then maybe for someone else” I pulled a cigarette out of the box I kept in the kitchen. I wasn’t suppose to smoke in the house but what my mom didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Man, I’m sorry. Fuck If I had known you’d been there I would have called or something. Shit” his voice was suddenly serious. “Gerard, I want in. I’m tired of smoking weed in my parents garden shed. Let's make something happen man” We talked about inviting toro in on the project , when we would get started ect.

I didn’t get drunk that night.

Notes

Hey guys! Please let me know how you guys feel about the two chapters I'm posting tonight! I know not a lot of folks on here read OC fanfictions but if you do I would appreciate hearing from you!
xoxo char