The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

I stepped out of the taxi and made my way to the front door, opening it. After taking off my coat and shoes, I began to realize something- it was quiet. Too quiet. Oddly quiet. Ray told me he'd be home around three, and it's just past five right now, so chances are he should be home by now.
“Ray?” I called out. I looked around the kitchen and made my way down the hall into the living room, still not finding anyone-
“Surprise!” A mass of people jumped up from behind the sofas, none of them I recognize, except of course for Ray, Bob, and Mikey. They were all, for some reason, all wearing party hats and throwing confetti in my direction.
Okay, just what the hell is going on? It's definitely not my birthday. That was more than a month ago.
“Congratulations!” Ray exclaimed, running up to me and patting me on the back.
“Uh, Ray…” I looked around the room, trying to figure out just what exactly is taking place. “What is this?”
“What do you think it is? We threw you a surprise party to congratulate you on your new job! At the Tragician!”
Oh. Duh.
“Oh,” I said, feeling dumb for just now realizing what this whole thing is all about. “Really?”
“Yeah! We brought some friends over to celebrate,” Ray replied, stating the obvious. “So, whaddaya think?”
I really don't know what to think. I really do appreciate Ray and the others throwing a party for me to congratulate me on my new job, I really do. But...did they have to bring over so many people? I am honestly not very good in huge crowds of people (except at concerts, of course. At times like that I feel like I'm with family, all coming to one place to...well, go fucking nuts and have a good time while...well, insert band name here jams out on the stage). I can't really go as far as to say I have a legitimate social anxiety problem, it’s just that I feel extremely uncomfortable around plenty of people, especially ones I don't know. I don't know why, though. I never bothered to care.
“It's...awesome. Thanks, man,” I smiled awkwardly, trying to not look like a shy, antisocial dork. I looked around the room, finding plenty of drinks and red Solo cups, as well as-of course-Bob’s bong, and other ones some of the partygoers brought along. I definitely know what kind of party this is gonna be; a party where you're with a bunch of people you don't know and will probably never see again, getting wasted and staying up until you pass out from being too drunk or high...or both. I just hope to God I don't end up doing anything I'll end up regretting the next day…which is probably why I shouldn't let myself get too wasted...or take a hit from Bob’s bong.

A few drinks later (and probably a few hours later as well) and I am surprised I'm still sober. Maybe it's because I decided to pass on Bob’s offer to get stoned with Ray and Mikey, who are both now laughing hysterically at absolutely nothing and munching on chips. Hell, I'm probably the only one that isn't drunk or high right now. Everyone else is either dancing drunkenly to the loud music, grinding up against one another, or passed out cold on the floor from one too many drinks. This is exactly why I was never much of a party animal-I’m too scared to get too tipsy, while everyone else does, and being the only sober one at the party always feels pretty awkward. It’s not like I can go to bed right now; I'm far from tired, and even if I was, it would be pretty hard to fall asleep when you're around a bunch of wasted people with loud music blaring.
That's it. I need to get away from this. I can't sit here and waste the night away painstakingly waiting for it to end while everyone else around me is clearly not sober. I stepped out of the living room and into the kitchen, deliberating my options on how to spend the rest of my night. I just can't be the only sober one here…
Wait. What about Gerard? What is he doing right now? Maybe now is my chance to go down and say hi, maybe get him to come upstairs and join the party? I may not be the best at parties, but I gotta admit, I feel bad he's not a part of it. It shouldn't hurt to at least ask him to come up for a while and have a good time, while getting some time away from that dark basement. Even if he declines my offer, it's fine. At least I would have attempted to get him to get out of his supposed social shell a little. Since Ray and Mikey are both clearly not on their most alert state of mind, this is probably now my chance to find out just who-and what-lies down in that basement.
I walked down the hall, looking around the place to make sure the coast was clear of any onlookers, especially Ray and Mikey. After doing so, I opened up the door and stepped through, again greeted by pure darkness. I pulled out my cell phone for some light and began to make my way downstairs, shutting the door behind me. All the noise from the party throughout the house seemed to have instantly vanished the second the door closed, leaving me in pure silence. My nose became filled to the brim with the stench of mildew, so much it made my stomach churn. The vibes from last night at the door of the basement suddenly returned to me, stronger than before. I was stepping into forbidden territory, alone in the dark.
I made my way down to the bottom of the stairs, finding masses of junk scattered throughout what looks like a living room; there's a sofa that's of course covered in trash, as well as a coffee table and a television. I don't know what the carpet is like because it's also covered to every inch in garbage. The whole place is literally a dumping ground for someone’s trash, like something you'd see straight out of an episode of some reality show about hoarders. I also noticed there’s also a little kitchen area near the supposed living room, complete with a refrigerator, sink, and a microwave, which is also, of course, as filthy as the other furnishings of the room. Ray was definitely right about one thing about Gerard: he definitely does live down here. This is his home, and it's a fucking pigsty. I can only imagine how much worse his bedroom must be...and dear God, the bathroom too.
Overpowered by the stench of trash and mildew, I covered my nose and mouth, feeling myself just inches away from puking out the three hard ciders I consumed throughout the night, as well as horderves. As I did, something caught my eye- the walls. The walls are covered to every inch in what appears to be someone's artwork, artwork that’s beautiful and vibrant and colorful, contrast to the mortifying rubbish scattered amongst the floor. I focused the light of my cell phone on one of the pictures, which appears to be a sketch of scenery painted in watercolors; there's someone's signature scribbled on the bottom right hand corner. I expected it closely, trying to read out the artist's name…
Gerard Way
He really made this? He made all of these pieces of artwork? There's a wide variety of them all over the walls, from murals to self-portraits to drawings of comic book superheroes and villains. I scanned some of the other pictures, finding the same name scribbled on them all in the same place as the watercolor sketch. I just couldn't help but stare in awe. This must be what Gerard does in his spare time. Whoever this guy Gerard is, he may be a slob, but also a damn good artist...so good that it kinda made me jealous, but in a good way. I now feel like I'm in some sort of museum; a museum of one person's artwork, a person that clearly seems to be a genius...a genius with a cleanliness problem.
I turned around and made my way down a small hallway, passing a room with the door slightly ajar. I peeked inside, quickly noticing it's the bathroom, which is just as filthy as the living room and kitchen, just as I feared. Right in front of me across the bathroom door is a single door, obscured in the shadows. This has to be Gerard's room. I'll be damned if isn't.
I gulped, feeling butterflies in my stomach. This is it, the moment of truth. I now finally get to reveal what Ray and Mikey were so urgent to hide from me, the person they told me to stay away from, the supposed recluse named Gerard Way.
I must admit, I don't think I came prepared. My whole body is shaking and sweating with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. The person I have been itching to know about lies beyond this door, and I don't know whether to be excited or fucking scared.
I shut my eyes and knocked on the door, feeling my chest constrict. Now I wait.
No reply. Not even the shifting of feet.
Maybe he didn’t hear me? It would be odd if he were asleep; it isn't that late.
I tapped on the door again, not feeling any less nervous and hoping to God he heard me this time.
“Hello?” I said.
Silence again.
Guess I gotta knock one more-
“Get out”
Uh oh. I clearly didn't take Ray's words well. Gerard doesn't really like to be bothered, does he?
Already feeling discouraged from offering Gerard to join the party upstairs, I backed away from the door.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to-”
“I said get-” The door flung wide open, making me jump back a little. It was at that moment that I first came into contact with his eyes.
He stood there silently in the doorway, his lightless, sunken hazel eyes blankly staring at me with an expression of both annoyance and confusion. His skin is very pale and bruised, so pale and white it's almost ghostly, contrasting against the darkness of his bedroom. His hair is long and jet-black, very tangled and as unkempt as the place he lives in.
As we both stood there in awkward silence, I stepped back a little to take a good look at him. He's very frail, like it's been days since he's eaten anything. The pair of black pajamas he’s wearing is clearly too big for him. I swear he's also shaking, clearly uncomfortable and maybe even terrified.
Seeing the fragile state he's in, I felt my heart sink into my stomach. I didn't expect Gerard to look modest and charming, but...I didn't think he'd look like a complete mess. Okay, that sounds mean. To put it in somewhat better words...there's something clearly wrong with him. In fact, many things.
All the hostility Gerard may have previously had seemed to have vanished the minute our eyes locked. He stood there, bruised and pale and shaking, completely hesitant yet forlorn.
“Hi,” I said, trying to break the silence that grew between us. “I...ah…”
Goddamnit, Frank. Quit looking like a dunce. Ask him already!
“I just wanted to know if...you wanted to...you know, come upstairs and...join the party?”
I fucking bombed it, didn't I? He's gonna say no.
“I...I-I can't,” Gerard stuttered, looking down.
“Why not?” I asked, surprised he didn't slam the door shut on me. “All your friends are up there. Ray, Bob, Mikey…”
“I can't,” Gerard repeated, shaking his head. “Too many people,” His eyes stayed focused on the floor, completely soulless.
“Really? Not even for a little bit? I'm sure your friends would be happy to see-”
“No,” He shot up his gaze at me, his eyes ice-cold and brimming with anger. “I-I said...no,” he stuttered, the glare instantly gone.
I swear I can feel my heart beginning to break. He was too scared to go upstairs. I can see it in his vacant eyes. Him living down here for God knows how long has really taken a toll on him. He's a complete alien to the outside world, so much that he dares to not step out of his own world. But he's also lonely. He has to be. Maybe Ray is mistaken. It's not that Gerard is antisocial, like it seems to be. Maybe he wants to be able to interact with the people around him, but is too afraid.
“Alright,” I said. “That's fine. Don't you wanna maybe come out of your room for a bit and hang out? We can...I dunno, maybe chill out on the couch?”
Gerard stared blankly at me, as if he had no clue what I just said.
This isn't going anywhere, is it?
“Alright, then…,” I huffed, turning away. “If you wanna stay down here, I guess I'll just-”
“Wait!” Gerard suddenly said, making me jump again. “Don’t leave…”
I turned around to look at him. Did he just tell me to not leave? He wants me to stay with him?
“What?” I asked. “You want me to stay down here...with you?”
Gerard nodded, his eyes full of desperation.
“P-please?”
I felt touched. He really is lonely. I was right. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted someone. He wanted me to be with him. He longed for human interaction, but was too afraid to step out of his haven, or his comfort zone…
“Okay,” I smiled. “I'll stay. Why don't you come out of your room? Let's go sit down somewhere,”
Gerard scanned his surroundings, hesitant to leave where he's standing. He then looked back up at me, then back to the floor, still shaking with fear.
“Here,” I extended my hand out to him. “Come on out,”
He gazed at my hand for a few seconds, unsure what to do with it. Then, after what seemed like a painstakingly long time, he slowly grabbed my hand, his grasp light, shaky, and cold to the touch. With Gerard's hand in mine, we walked down the dark hall and back out to the living room, using the light of my phone as guidance. I felt around for a light switch, soon finding one and turning it on. Now that there's some light in this place so I can see where the hell I'm going, I guided Gerard to the couch. Before I could start to remove some of the trash on it to give both of us a place to sit, I turned to him, motioning to it.
“You mind?” I asked.
“No,” Gerard whispered, shaking his head.
I threw some trash off the couch and sat down, motioning Gerard to join me. He sat down, his gaze locked onto me, his face partially hidden by his dark, messy hair. It’s so messy that I so badly feel the urge to comb it for him. It's a weird habit I have. If someone's hair is a little off, I get the overpowering urge to jump in and fix it for them, no matter what kind of awkward stares I get from others. I used to be so picky about my hair that I would sometimes spend hours in the mirror making it look just right. Of course, that has died off some time ago, or at least now it’s not as bad as it used to be.
To my odd luck, I found a hairbrush by Gerard’s side and picked it up.
“Hey,” I said. “Don't wanna come off as weird, but...you mind if I comb your hair for you? It's a little...tangled,”
I honestly would have expected Gerard to look at me funny, but instead he just smiled.
“Go ahead,” he said, turning around to let me brush his hair.
I grabbed some locks of his hair in my hand, combing it in gentle strokes to get the tangles out. Not only was his hair very tangled, but greasy as well. It's obvious that it's been a while since he last washed his hair...hell, his whole body for that matter.
“So,” I said, trying to start up a conversation. “all these pictures on the walls...you made them all yourself?”
“Yeah,” Gerard replied. “Why?”
“Because you're a very good artist,” I said truthfully, because he definitely is one. “You know, you would make a great comic book artist, seeing you're into that kind of thing...you know?” I continued to comb his hair, the tangles coming out with ease. I began to smooth it out, making some finishing touches.
“You think so? You mean it?” Gerard asked.
“Of course,” I laughed. “Why would I not?”
“I dunno...,” Gerard shrugged.
Silence.
“Where are you from?” He asked suddenly.
“Me? New Jersey. Grew up in Belleville. How about you?”
More silence.
“You live around here?” Gerard asked, ignoring my question.
Maybe he didn’t hear me. Oh, well. No big deal.
“Well, yeah,” I said. “I actually live here, as a matter of fact,”
“S-seriously?” Gerard’s eyes widened a little as he turned to face me while I combed out a giant clump of black, tangled, and matted hair. “Since when?”
“Yesterday, actually. It’s kinda a long story…”
Oh, no...is he gonna ask?
“Ah...I see,” Gerard turned his head back.
Oh, thank fucking god. He didn’t ask.
“Yeah. It’s kinda nice here, staying with Ray, Bob, and Mikey. You know?”
Hearing no reply from Gerard, I finished up combing his hair, smoothing it out one last time.
“Alright, I think I'm done…”
Gerard turned back around, facing me, his eyes locked on to me once again.
Oh my god…
I swear I could almost feel my jaw drop. I kept it shut, trying to not look like a dork.
He looks...really good...no, not just that...he’s-
“How do I look?” Gerard asked.
“You look great,” I replied, smiling. Even saying that would be an understatement, though.
“You sure?”
“Definitely. I wouldn't lie,”
“Oh...okay,” Gerard briefly looked down,then back up at me again. “Thank you…” He smiled shyly.
There's just something about him that really stands out to me. It must be his eyes, which now seem to have more light in them, and are no longer dead, empty, and full of hidden pain. How in the hell can someone...so beautiful hide himself from the world? What made this guy want to hide away from everyone?
But then again...the world can be a pretty ugly place…
“Oh, umm…” Gerard stuttered, biting his lip. “What’s your name?”
“I'm Frank,” I replied. “Frank Iero,”
“F-frank?”
“Mhmm,” I nodded.
“Oh, alright...I’m Gerard,” He held out his hand.
“Gerard,” I said, shaking his hand. “It's nice to meet you. That's a really cool name, by the way,”
“Really?” Gerard let go of my hand.
“Yeah, it's got a nice ring to it. Don't hear a name like that often. It's a hell of a lot better than mine,”
It’s true. I honestly really hate my name. It's too plain.
“I don't think so,” Gerard said.
I guess he's right. There are worse names out there...much worse.
“Yeah, I suppose,” I nodded. I looked around the room a little, trying my best to think of a topic to keep the conversation going.
The expression on Gerard's face suddenly changed. It was one that wasn't very pleasant. He went from smiles to a look of distress, like something was wrong.
“Gerard?” I said. “You alright?”
He looked down at his feet, muttering something under his breath that I couldn't make out. He shook his head, chattering his teeth as he continued to mumble to himself.
“S-stop it,” he spat. “No, shut up, shut-”
“Gerard?” I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to regain his attention.
Gerard gasped, jumping a little. He looked back at me, eyes wide.
“Who are you talking to?” I asked.
“Oh...no one,” Gerard frowned, looking down remorsefully. “I'm sorry…”
Oh no…
Maybe this is what Ray was warning me about. I already knew from the minute I went down here that there wasn't something quite right with him. This man clearly isn't all right in the head. Like I said before, there are definitely some things wrong with him. Something really awful must have happened to Gerard, and a part of me doesn't even dare to know what exactly…
“It's alright,” I said, trying to put what just happened behind the both of us.
“No, it’s…” Gerard paused, sighing in frustration. “Just pretend it never happened…okay?”
“Alright,” I nodded reluctantly, knowing deep down that denying what just took place won't make a difference.
I don't care about the way Gerard is. I don't care that he’s...well, a strange case. He's an interesting strange case. He's artistic, and a genius in disguise.
And he's just so fucking beautiful…
“Frank,” Gerard said. “What time is it?”
I looked at the time on my phone. It's past ten.
Holy shit...it's later than I thought it was. Did I read time wrong earlier, or did time fly by that fast being around Gerard?
“It’s past ten,”
I figured now would be a good time to go to bed. I've got work early tomorrow morning…
Fuck, where am I gonna sleep? There's a good chance that the party is still going on upstairs, and an even higher chance that someone is already passed out on the futon…
“Hey, Gerard,” I said. “It's getting pretty late. I think I'm gonna crash and call it a night. I got work early tomorrow morning,”
“Oh, you do?” Gerard asked. “Where do you work?”
“Place called the Tragician. Ever heard of it?”
“No,” Gerard nodded. “What is it?”
“It's a concert venue. A lot of local bands play there. Gotta get the place ready for a show,”
“Oh...alright,” Gerard looked down again. He crossed his arms. “Hope work goes well for you,”
“Thanks, man,” I smiled, but that all changed when I got a good look at Gerard. He sat there slumped on the couch, his head hanging down and arms crossed, like he was really bummed out. The glum expression on his face didn't make it look any better.
“What's wrong?” I asked, unexpectedly putting my hand on his limp shoulder. “You alright?”
Gerard looked back up at me, his mouth opening slightly, then closing. He shook his head.
“I'm fine,” he said flatly.
I hate hearing those words. He isn't fine. Something's on his mind. When people say those two dreaded words, I know they're lying.
“No, seriously, what's wrong?” I asked.
Gerard sighed, rolling his eyes.
“You really wanna know?” He asked.
“Yes,”
“I...I don't want you to leave,”
My eyes widened. Am I hearing this right?
“I want you to stay down here...Frankie,” Gerard gasped, covering his mouth. “I-I’m sorry, Frank,”
“No, that's fine,” I replied. “You can call me Frankie. I don't mind,”
I honestly always hated being called Frankie. That's what my parents used to call me, as well as some bullies from high school. I even used to yell at Ray for calling me that, sometimes. That or Franklin. But with Gerard, it's fine. He can call me whatever he wants.
“Can you...stay down here with me?” Gerard asked again. “Please?”
“Why?” I asked out of genuine curiosity.
“Because…” Gerard whispered, his eyes gazing at me in desperation. “I’m...lonely,”
I'm at a loss of words. I was definitely right. All this time he has been cut off from the outside world, fearing what lies beyond the basement door, and all he's longed for is someone to be there with him. He wants someone. Hell, he needs someone. He needs a friend. One that's willing to sneak down beyond forbidden boundaries, just to be there with him.
Wait…fuck. I can't stay down here. What if Ray and Mikey find out? How am I gonna be able to explain myself? I can't afford to lose their trust. The worst that can happen is that Ray kicks me out if the house for not abiding by his rules (or just his one and only rule, really). I can't let that happen. But then again, where am I gonna sleep? The party is probably gonna go on all night, and some whats-his-name will be passed out on the futon. Besides, being passed out and vulnerable to plenty of others at a house party isn't the best situation to be in, clearly. I shouldn't even have to explain why.
Maybe I’ll stay down here for a while, then wait for Gerard to fall asleep, then head back upstairs and hope to God I can find a decent place to sleep. That way when Ray and Mikey wake up the next morning, they won't find me here in Gerard's basement.
“Gerard,” I began. “If you really want me to spend the night down here, I will,”
“Really?” His eyes widened. “You mean it?”
“Yes, I do,”
I don't think I'll ever forget the smile that just spread across his face. He just looks so genuinely happy...and seeing him like that makes me happy, too.
“Thank you…Frankie,”
“No problem,” I smiled back.
“Wait here,” Gerard stood up from the couch, walking to his bedroom and closing the door. A few moments later, I heard him come back out, followed by a slight click sound after shutting the door. He walked back to the sofa with a pile of pillows and sleeping bags. He glanced at me, looking slightly concerned.
“You don't mind sleeping on the couch...do you?”
“No, of course not,”
“Alright. I'm sorry it isn't much, but…,”
“It's okay, man. Where are you gonna sleep?”
“The floor,” Gerard set down the pile of sleeping bags and pillows, handing me one of each.
“Really?” I said. “Don't you like...you know, have your bed?”
“Yeah, but…I’d rather be out here with you. Plus…,” Gerard sighed. “I don't think you'd want to see my room…”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Well...it-it’s…” Gerard stuttered. “It's uh...just messy. Worse than out here,”
“Oh, alright,” I shrugged. I took the sleeping bag and pillow Gerard handed to me and got myself settled on to his couch under the covers, laying my head on the pillow.
“Comfy?” Gerard asked, getting under his sleeping bag.
“Yeah,” I nodded. As I laid there on Gerard’s couch under the sleeping bag, I felt my eyes grow heavy, my body telling me to go the hell to sleep already. I glanced over at Gerard, who reached for what appears to be a sketchbook and fountain pen.
“Aren't you tired?” I asked.
“Nah, far from it,” Gerard flipped open the book and immediately began drawing away. “What about you?”
“Me? I'm fucking ready to pass out,” I huffed. “Got a big day ahead of me,”
“Alright, Frankie,” Gerard said. “Goodnight. Sleep well,”
“Thank you,” I smiled. I think I actually like it when he calls me that…

I opened up my eyes, my mind trying to process where I am. Quickly realizing that I'm in Gerard’s basement instead of upstairs in the living room, I checked the time on my phone; it's past seven.
Oh, fuck…
I was supposed to go back upstairs while Gerard was asleep. Instead I slept throughout the whole night. Oh, no...Ray and Mikey are gonna kill me…
Accepting the fact that I'm probably gonna get an earful from Ray, I quickly stood up from the couch, ready to head back upstairs. Before I did, I looked over at Gerard. He's fast asleep on the floor, his body snug under the sleeping bag. Close to his side is his sketchbook, open on a page. I peeked at it, noticing the drawing on it- it’s a picture of me, sleeping in the couch. Gerard sketched a picture of me while I was asleep. I couldn't help but smile, admiring the elaborate detail of the drawing. He actually stayed up and sat there, drawing me in such great detail while I dozed on the couch. He really is a good artist…
I headed upstairs, dreading what lies in store for me. I exited the basement, walked down the hall and into the kitchen.
“Holy shit, Frank!” Ray’s voice erupted. He emerged from the living room and marched right up to me, his eyes wide with devastation.
I've got a shitload of explaining to do…
“Didn't I tell you to not go down there? How long were you down there?”
“Ray...I know you're pissed off at me. I can explain…”
“Oh, please do!” Ray crossed his arms. “Just what in the hell were you-”
“Look, I went down there because I wanted to try to get Gerard to join the party. You know, encourage him to be a little more social,”
“There's no way in hell he'd do that,” Ray snorted.
“Well yeah, he didn't wanna come upstairs, but…he told me he wanted me to stay downstairs with him-”
“He what?” Ray’s eyes nearly bulged out of sockets. “Are you serious?”
“What's going on?” Another voice emerged. It was Mikey, walking out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, joining the conflict between me and Ray.
Oh, great…
“You really wanna know?” Ray turned to Mikey. “Frank snuck down the basement last night...and stayed there the whole night,”
”What?” Mikey looked over to me, his brows furrowed. “Are you kidding me, man? He didn't try to...hurt you, did he?”
“What? No, of course not,” I replied defensively, clearly confused by what the hell Mikey just asked me. “He was nothing like that,”
“Yeah,” Ray chimed in. “Frank just told me that he was down there with Gerard the whole night!”
“Wait...what?” said Mikey, looking as if he just saw a herd of cows flying across the sky. “Frank...are you serious?”
“Serious as a heart attack,” I replied, clearly getting fed up being interrogated by Ray and Mikey. This is getting ridiculous. “You know what, why are you two ganging up on me? What's the big deal, anyways? Gerard didn't even come close to hurting me. He was nothing like that. I went down there to ask him to join the party upstairs. He didn't want to. Instead, he asked me to stay downstairs with him for the night...because he felt lonely,”
Both Ray and Mikey looked at each other, then back at me, clearly perplexed by what I just said.
“What?” They both said in unison.
“He said he was lonely,” I continued. “And he begged me to stay downstairs with him, so I did,”
Ray and Mikey just stood there in silence, looking dumbfounded.
“Mikey…” Ray sighed, his voice calm. “Maybe you should...talk to Frank…about your brother,”
Wait, what?!
“I gotta get to work. There's a good chance I'll be working overtime, and I really don't want...this to ruin my whole day,” Ray walked past us, removing himself from the conflict. He made his way to the front door, turning back around to look at Mikey, who clearly didn't look pleased, seeing the glum and emotionless look on his face.
“Fine…,” he sighed. “I will,”
Gerard and Mikey are brothers? There's no way they can be. They don't even look alike!
Ray shut the door, leaving me and Mikey alone in the kitchen. I seriously wanna know what the hell this is all about. But on the other hand, I wanna get the hell outta here, not just because I have to get ready for work, but also because I can't stand being fucking interrogated as if I just committed a crime. Another part of me wants to confront Ray and Mikey, and tell them that they're both misunderstood about the lonely man in the basement...at least, based on what I had just witnessed down there.
“Frank,” Mikey said, turning back to me. “Listen, I really don't wanna have to have this conversation with you, but I will. I will because it's for your own good,”
“Why?” I replied. “Do you people really think he's that dangerous? He didn't fucking hurt me!”
“You don't understand!” Mikey revolted. “That man down there is my brother. And sure, maybe he didn't hurt you, but...that's only one time you've met him. You really don't know what you're getting yourself into,”
“Well, then fucking enlighten me, Mikey!” I yelled. “Why the hell do you and Ray want me to not be around Gerard? What makes this guy so dangerous, according to you two?”
“Frank, he's sick,” Mikey replied, clearly becoming as fed up as I am. “You should be able to see that. You saw him, you know how he is!”
“I know that, Mikey,” I replied, playing back back the memories of me and Gerard from last night. “I know he isn't all that well in the head, but...that doesn't mean you guys should just let him rot down there. What makes you think he'll get any better of you guys leave him like that?”
“Look, Frank….I understand where you're coming from. I really do,” Mikey said, calming down a little. “We tried helping him. We all did. But nothing worked. We have no other choice but to keep him here…,”
Mikey looked down, his eyes vacant and full of sorrow. He crossed his arms, looking back up at me, his face still holding the same sullen expression.
“I honestly appreciate you trying to help him, Frank. I know you want to do all you can for him...but the reason why we don't want you down there is because…we don't want you to get hurt. We’re not trying to be assholes, we’re just looking out for you,”
“I know, but…,” I huffed, feeling myself shake with frustration. “I'm just saying that maybe now he's asking for help, but doesn't quite know how to, because he's afraid. He's really fucking scared, Mikey. I may not know him like you do, but...just give him another chance? Please?”
“I've given him too many chances, Frank. Maybe he didn't hurt you or anything, but...just…,” Mikey shook his head in defeat. “You know what? Just don't go back down there again, okay?” he begged. “I don't even wanna sit here and have to do this to you. Just leave him be, okay?”
I don't wanna have this conversation either. It's making me sick, sitting here listening to Mikey tell me lies. I wanna just storm out of here and just scream. I need to get out of here, and fast.
“Fine,” I spat. “I will,” I turned away from Mikey, getting myself ready for work, like I should have done a long time ago.
I know what I'm doing when I come back from work. I'm gonna see Gerard again, whether Ray and Mikey like it or not. I gotta do it off their radar, though. I am not willing to go through what just happened. They may not realize it, but Gerard doesn't need to be left alone.
He needs a friend.
He needs help.
He needs to be fixed.

Notes