The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

My first day working at the Tragician mainly consisted of me, Monique and a few others getting the place ready for a show for some local punk-rock band. After my eight hour shift was over, Monique offered me to stick around for the show, which I politely declined. I need to see Gerard again. I know he’s down there in that dark basement, waiting for me to come home. All day at work, I could not stop thinking about him. Memories of him from last night kept on playing in my head, from the time we first made eye contact all the way up to the moment I saw his sketching of a sleeping me before leaving for work. I can only hope that Ray or Mikey are not around. I cannot afford to get caught sneaking down the basement. Not again.
I decided to walk home rather than take a taxi, not only to save money but to make time drag on a little longer, since it was only six when I got out of work, and it’s obviously too early for Ray and Mikey to be asleep. Ray did mention he’s working overtime today, so I can only hope he’s either still not home from work, or he’s home now and is planning on going to bed soon. When I got home, I found that Ray is indeed still not home, and both Mikey and Bob are in their rooms doing...whatever, I guess. I figured maybe it’s a good idea to make some coffee to try to stay up as late as I can. Luckily, I have tomorrow off, so if I stay up super late and wait for Mikey to fall asleep, I can spend some time with Gerard.
I went over to the coffee machine in the kitchen and prepared myself some, being sure to add extra sugar, as well as some french vanilla creamer; I’ve never been one to have my coffee black, because I just cannot stand the bitter taste of it. I need the extra stuff not just because it tastes better to me, but the extra sugar will help keep me awake.
While I waited for Mikey to pass out, I sat in the living room sipping on my coffee while watching some shitty vampire horror movie on tv. All throughout evening, I kept on looking at the time on the digital wall clock as I grew more and more impatient. Right now it’s only quarter to nine. In other words, it’s probably still too fucking early for Mikey to be asleep. When the movie cut to a commercial break, I got up and made my way to the bathroom, briefly peeking into Mikey’s room as I passed it; he’s sitting on the end of his bed, playing his bass. After taking a quick piss, I got out of the bathroom, where I was almost immediately greeted by Mikey, who’s now sporting a band t-shirt and...unicorn pajama pants? Yeah. Fucking unicorns. Not Spiderman, or Batman, or even Aquaman, as expected from someone like Mikey. No. He is seriously wearing pajamas with pink and white unicorns on it.
“Please, don’t ask,” Mikey said bluntly, clearly seeing me questioning his choice of sleepwear. “By the way, I got some news,”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I just got a call from Ray. He’s gonna be outta town for a few days,”
“Why?”
“Family emergency. His mom got in a bad car accident. He’s gonna be seeing her in the hospital,”
“Oh, damn. I should call him,”
“That would be a good idea, man. He’s pretty torn up about it,”
“I don’t blame him,”
“So…,” Mikey paused. “Yeah, that’s what’s going on,”
“Alright,” I said, starting to make my way back to the living room.
“Oh, wait!” Mikey said suddenly. “By the way…,”
“What?” I asked, turning back. Uh oh…
“I’m gonna be going to bed pretty soon...so please...do me a favor,”
Fuck me sideways. I know what he’s gonna ask me to do...or rather, not do.
“...don’t go downstairs again. I’m serious,”
Fucking called it.
“Alright,” I said, nodding. “I won’t,” I made my way down the hall and back to the living room, feeling Mikey’s glance still on me. All I gotta do is wait. I must admit, I do genuinely feel bad about Ray and what happened to his mom. I will make a note to myself to call him sometime tomorrow morning. Since Ray won't be around for the next few days, that means I have one less person to worry about finding me sneaking me down to see Mikey’s brother...

It wasn’t until another two cups of coffee later when I was almost completely sure that Mikey finally fell asleep. I took another quick peek in his room, finding him asleep, snoring softly. I tiptoed down the hall to the basement door, taking a deep breath before entering the void that is Gerard’s haven.
I shut the door behind me, this time not greeted by pure darkness, surprisingly. The living room light is on. I made my way to the bottom of the stairs, finding Gerard sitting on the couch, drawing away in his sketchbook. He looked up at me, smiling shyly.
“Hey, Frankie,” he said.
I would have expected myself to smile back seeing him, except I didn’t. Something’s wrong. It’s the bruises on his face. There are new ones on him, clear as day, both sticking out like a sore thumb. One of them, a deep purplish-red, is right above his left temple. Another one, darker than the other new bruise, lays just under his right eye.
“Hey, Gerard,” I replied, trying to hide my concern, which Gerard clearly wasn’t falling for.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“The bruises on your face,” I pointed out, instantly giving up on masking my concerns. “What happened?”
“Oh…” Gerard looked down. “I fell…”
“Oh...I’m sorry,” I replied, knowing in the back of my mind that Gerard is lying. I shouldn’t bother asking how he got the bruises. There’s something he clearly doesn’t want to tell me…
I sat down next to Gerard on the couch, looking down at what he’s drawing in his sketchbook. It appears to be some superhero. Or supervillain? Who knows.
“I was gonna make us some coffee when we got up. But when I woke up...you were gone,” Gerard said, disappointment radiating from his hazel eyes. “I really wanted to say good morning to you…”
“I’m sorry, man. I had to get up early for work,” I replied, now feeling kinda guilty for not saying goodbye to Gerard before leaving for work. I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink a little seeing the look of genuine sadness behind his eyes.
“I know. It’s fine though. How was work?” Gerard asked, changing the subject.
“It was alright. I had to help out get a show ready for the night, it was for a local punk rock band,”
“Oh...that’s cool,” Gerard replied, his eyes glued to his sketchbook. “You like working there?”
“Yeah, totally,” I said. “Hell of a lot better that any of my other jobs,”
“That's good,” Gerard smiled a little, making some finishing touches on his drawing.
“You know, we should go there some time for a show. That would be fun,” I smiled back.
Gerard said nothing. It's clear he doesn't like talking about anything that involves him having to leave his basement.
“So…,” I said, laughing uneasily as we stood there in awkward silence. “What have you been up to, Gerard?”
“Nothing really,” Gerard shrugged his shoulders. “That is, unless you count sleeping and drawing as something,”
“Sure, it does. What else do you like to do besides drawing?” I asked.
Gerard gazed up from his picture, looking as if he's very deep in thought.
“Well…” he started. “I like to watch horror movies,”
“Really? Me too!” I replied, not being surprised that someone like Gerard would be into that kind of thing, seeing his many drawings of horror icons like Dracula and Frankenstein scattered around the walls. “I actually watched this one horror movie earlier. It was about vampires. It wasn’t that good, though,”
“Oh, really? What was it called?”
“Come to think of it…,” I said, trying my hardest to remember the name of the mediocre vampire film with bad effects, as well as even worse acting and a horribly written script. “I can’t even remember what it was called,”
“Oh, that’s too bad. If you knew the name of it, I’ve probably seen it. I’ve seen so many horror movies, like you don’t even know. Especially vampire movies. Bram Stoker’s Dracula is one of my favorites,”
“Oh, yeah. That’s a good one!”
“Definitely,” Gerard smiled. It’s the same smile from last night. It’s the smile that just gives me butterflies in my stomach. There’s something about the way he smiles that makes me melt, even though that honestly sounds kinda sappy.
Okay, it sounds really sappy. But whatever. There’s no better way I can put it in words.
“You know…” Gerard said. “Speaking of horror movies, we should totally have a horror movie marathon night. I have a huge collection of movies on dvd, and obviously...most of them are horror movies,”
“Yeah, totally. That would be awesome,” I said, unable to look away from the genuinely irresistible smile on Gerard’s face, as well as his radiant hazel eyes.
I don’t care how we spend the night down here. All that matters is that I’m with him. He needs to be with somebody; somebody to talk to, somebody to be friends with, somebody to not make him feel all alone, and that somebody is undoubtedly me. We could spend the whole night just sitting on the couch talking about horror movies, and I would still be happy. All that matters is that I’m with Gerard. Nothing else.
But still...where did those bruises on his face come from? I’ve gotten myself hurt too many times to know that you simply can’t get bruises like that simply from falling. It looks as if he got those bruises from a fight, like he got punched in the face. But if that’s true, then with who? As far as I know, Gerard is the only person that lives down here, and I’m very likely to be the first person he’s talked to in a very long time…
“Frankie?” Gerard said suddenly, the smile gone. “What’s wrong?”
“What?” I shot my head up, realizing that I’ve been spacing off. God, having ADD can really suck…
“You just...don’t look well. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m alright,” I replied, clearly lying. I’m not alright. I want to know where those bruises came from…
“You don’t look like it,” Gerard said flatly. “Come on, tell me. What’s on your mind?”
I really shouldn’t bring up the bruises again. I don’t wanna make Gerard feel like I’m prying. I’m not gonna bother asking. I don’t wanna upset him. He already gave me an answer, so I’m only gonna pretend he told me the truth, even though he really didn’t. It’s clear he doesn’t ever wanna talk about it. The best I can do is hope that the real way he got them aren’t as ugly and dark as the bruises themselves...
Now that I think about it, there’s definitely a lot on my mind. Gerard knows I live in this house with him and his brother Mikey, as well as Ray and Bob. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s gonna wanna know how this all came to be, me living with these guys and all. Everyone else besides Gerard know what happened to me, yet ironically I feel such a close connection to him, like we’re already good friends. I know we’ve only known each other for only two nights so far, yet I feel like as Gerard becomes more social, the more I wanna tell him. He’s already come a long way from where he was when we first met last night, even though he still has a long way to go, in terms of breaking out of his social barrier.
Maybe now I should tell him everything; about how I came to live with him and the other guys. If I do...maybe then Gerard will open up to me more about himself. Maybe then he’ll tell me why he’s so afraid to leave his basement, and why Ray and Mikey have such a big problem with me seeing him. If Ray and Mikey won’t tell me anything, maybe Gerard will…
“You know what, Gerard?” I started, immediately feeling myself shake a little. “Maybe I should tell you something…”
“What’s that?” He asked.
“I should open up to you a little about why I moved in with you, Ray, Bob, and Mikey. It isn’t gonna be easy, though…” I sighed, trying to keep my cool, but already starting to falter, seeing that I’m shaking and my chest is starting to feel tight.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Frankie. I understand,” Gerard said, setting down his sketchbook. He focused his eyes on me, giving me a look of genuine concern. “I don’t wanna pry,”
“No, Gerard,” I shook my head. “I have to tell you. It’s the best way that...I can cope with what’s happened to me. If I never tell you...I’ll never get better,”
“I know what you’re saying. But I hate seeing you like this. I don’t want you to be upset. Now I feel kinda bad for asking…” Gerard frowned, looking down in guilt.
“No, you shouldn’t feel bad about anything. I want to get better. I want to stop feeling this way about my past. I want to get over it already!”
I clenched my fists tightly, frustrated with my inner demons of being too scared to tell the truth. I haven’t even started and I’m already shaking and sweating and freaking out. Fucking hell…
“Frankie…,” Gerard looked up, suddenly putting his cold hand on my shoulder. “If you really want to tell me, that’s fine. You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you,”
“I’m not worried about you judging me, Gerard. I’m just scared to tell you because it just hurts having to look back…,”
Feeling defeated by my own thoughts, I hung my head down in defeat, still shaking. My eyes started to feel warm and moist, blurring my vision. Oh my god...am I crying?
No. I can’t cry. Why the hell am I crying? I didn’t do that in front of Ray. God fucking damn it...I am such an idiot. I look so stupid crying in front of Gerard. I haven’t said a single fucking word to him about my past and I’m already in tears. I can’t even remember the last time I cried!
Stop it, Frank. Stop fucking crying. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t-
“Frankie!”
Before I knew it, Gerard suddenly leaned forward and wrapped me in his arms, hugging me. He held on to me tightly, his body shaking. My face is buried in his shoulder, my tears being smeared on his black hoodie that smells of cigarettes. The minute he began to hold me, I suddenly stopped. I’m not scared. I’m not shaking anymore. It’s like the storm of emotions that was erupting in my head earlier suddenly stopped.
He is so warm. He smells bad, but I don’t care. I want to stay with him, wrapped in his arms. I want him to be here with me. I don’t ever want him to ever let go of me…
“Listen to me, Frankie,” Gerard said shakily, looking at me right in the eyes. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t think I’d make you feel...like this,” He looked down remorsefully, still holding me in his frail arms.
“No, I want to tell you,” I replied, drying my tears. “I need to talk to someone. I need to talk to you. I want to open up to you. I want you to be the person that helps me get over this!”
“But why?” Gerard asked. “I don’t want to see you so sad, feeling so much hurt,”
“I’m not hurt. I’m healing. It’s a long and hard process, but in the end, it’ll all be better. I want to open up to you because I want to stop feeling this way. I want to start getting better. I want to not be afraid anymore. I want to open up to you because...I trust you,”
“Frankie…” Gerard’s eyes grew wide, his grasp on me becoming tighter. “Are you sure you wanna do this? Do you...really...trust me?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed, feeling more tears swell up in my eyes. “I want these feelings to go away! I need help. I want you to help me stop being scared...please,”
“Alright,” Gerard sighed, bringing up his hand to my face and wiping my eyes clean of the tears. “If that’s what you want to do...then I won’t stop you,”
I smiled, feeling an imaginary weight of my fears slowly being lifted off my shoulders. I really wanna do this. I wanna do this in front of Gerard. I want to be able to escape from my inner demons...and I have a feeling that Gerard is the one that can chase them away.
“After all, Frankie...you helped me last night. You were there when nobody else was...so it’s only fair that I return the favor,”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I said. We let go of each other, still making eye contact.
Come to think of it, I could stare at Gerard all day and be completely fine. I just still wish those bruises weren’t on his beautiful face…
“So, anyway…” I began, taking a deep breath. “The reason why I moved here was because Ray offered me to stay with him and the others. We met up at a bar downtown. I was homeless at the time…”
“How did that happen?” Gerard asked.
“What? Me being homeless?”
“Yeah…,” he nodded. “If you’re okay with talking about that, anyway…”
“Yeah, I’ll get to that,” I replied, dreading the moment I’ll actually have to go into detail about that. “I knew Ray from high school, as well as Bob. We were both good friends, so it was kinda nice running into him again. I didn’t know Bob and Mikey all that well, though,”
“You know...M-Mikey...is...my little brother, right?” Gerard asked, stumbling over Mikey’s name.
“Yeah, I do. I actually never knew that until Ray told me recently,”
Gerard didn’t say anything.
“So, anyway,” I continued. “When I ran into Ray at the bar, he asked what was up with me, and...well, I kinda had to tell him what happened…”
Gerard remained silent, his full attention still focused on me.
“So, the reason why I was homeless was because...I’m gay, and my parents found out about it, and they didn’t take the news too well,”
“How did they find out?” Gerard asked.
“Well...to make a long story short, I was very secretive about being gay, since my parents were against that whole thing. I ended up telling someone that I thought was my friend...and he stabbed me right in the back...he fucking told them…”
The image of Derek Groell came to my mind. I’ll never forget what he fucking did to me. I’ll never forget that smug, shit-eating grin he always had on his stupid face. I thought this motherfucker was a friend. I was dead wrong. He ended up being a fucking backstabber, just as bad as the fuckheads that bullied me and Ray in high school. I don’t know why I came out to him, but for whatever dumb reason it may have been, I really should have thought twice before opening up my fucking mouth to him. Just thinking about him now brings my blood to a boil, even months after that dreaded day…
“Frankie...calm down,” Gerard put a hand on my knee. I snapped back to reality, realizing that my mind had drifted off again. My fists are clenched so tight. My jaw hurts from gritting my teeth. I let my inner rage take over without even realizing it.
“Oh...I’m sorry,” I looked down, trying to keep my cool.
“No, Frankie. You have a right to be mad...I just don’t want you to...you know, freak out,”
“No, I won’t. I’m okay,”
I took another deep breath, hoping to god I don’t let myself loose like that again. I’ve always had a short temper, and I really don’t wanna let that get the best of me. Not here. Not in front of Gerard. Never.
“Anyway...Derek told my parents. I should have known it was a mistake to tell him, because...I’ve tried hiding me being gay for a long time, and I never really told anyone about it. I only told him and Ray, as far as I know,”
“When did you find out you were...you know, the way you are?” Gerard asked.
“I had to be like maybe fourteen or fifteen. I know it was not long after I started high school. I just...never really found any girls attractive. I remember some guys always talking about how hot some girls at school were, you know? How much they wanna get in their pants and all, and I was just like...no, not really,”
It honestly feels very awkward looking back at a younger me (but then again, who doesn’t feel like that?). I can just envision fourteen-year old me clearly in my head-a short, scrawny kid with neatly kept brown hair, and almost no sociability or friends whatsoever. He always focused on how he looked, from the way his hair was combed to the clothes he was wearing. He spent his spare time collecting records and playing guitar rather than jerking off to naked girls on the internet, like many other teenage boys fresh into puberty. He never found any girls attractive, not even the ones you see on magazine covers or on television, their starved bodies glamorized and dollied up. That kid was a younger, teenage version of me.
“I knew I was gay because I would see some guys, and think ‘oh my god...he’s just so beautiful’. Not just good-looking, but someone I’d want to talk to. Someone I’d want to hang out with. Someone that I can see myself asking out on a date, maybe. You know? What a guy thinks when he sees an attractive girl...at least, in some cases,”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Gerard said, laughing a little.. “I know how it works. I may not have a major in adolescent psychology but...I know what you’re saying, Frankie,”
“Alright,” I laughed along with Gerard, stopping myself from going into great detail how the hormonal teenage human mind works.
“So yeah, that’s when I knew that...well, that I pretty much like men, and not women. That’s when I also realized that I had to hide that from my parents,”
“Why didn’t they accept people being like that?”
“It’s part their religion. I was raised Catholic, so...I’m assuming you know what their views are on gays is like, right?”
“Ugh, of course,” Gerard rolled his eyes. “How bad were they with it? The whole religious thing?”
“I must admit...pretty fucking bad,” I said, cringing at the thought of growing up in a strict, conservative Catholic household. “Borderline strict. Had to dress like a good little Christian boy, had to go to church every Sunday morning, had to read the Bible, had to say my prayers at the table and before bed...you know, that kind of shit,”
“Oh, yeah. Trust me, I know,”
“Wait, your parents were like that with you?” I asked.
Gerard froze, his eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets. He turned away, shaking his head and waving a hand.
“N-no,” he said. “They weren’t,”
“You alright?” I felt my heart skip a beat. “I’m sorry if-”
“No, it’s fine,” Gerard turned back to me, the mortified look still clear on his face. “Let’s j-just...not...t-talk about that right now...o-okay?”
“Alright,”
This was a big mistake. I’m the one that’s supposed to do all the talking, and I’ve already made Gerard feel uncomfortable in the process...this isn’t going good at all. I really shouldn’t have done this...
Gerard shut his eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath and then opening the back up, looking back at me, trying his best to smile, despite it coming off as forced and full of inner discontent.
“Anyway...you were saying?”
“Right…” I said reluctantly. “So, because of how my parents were...I couldn't let them know about me being gay. I mean, that’s not the only thing I had to hide from them. I had to hide my collection of rock n’ roll records, my horror movie tapes, hell-I had to hide my own fucking guitar from them, which I got at a garage sale, for fuck’s sake! They thought if I became a musician, like in a rock band, that I’d end up worshipping Satan or some shit like that,”
“Really?” Gerard cringed. “That’s just ridiculous,”
“Psh, no kidding,” I shrugged. “My mom and dad wanted me to grow up to be a pastor, or just anything church-related, when I really just wanted to be in a band, play guitar and stuff. Not a Christian band, though. Like, punk-rock or something along those lines, like The Misfits, Black Flag, Green Day, you know?”
“Yeah, definitely. Your parents should support you trying to go for something like that,”
“Well, clearly they didn’t. They didn’t support anything I wanted to do, only what they wanted for me,”
“And that’s just really shitty,” Gerard sighed, nodding in disapproval. “They shouldn’t fucking control you like that. You’re not a puppet. You’re a human being. You’re their son, for fuck’s sake!”
“I know…,” I felt the tears come back. I didn’t even attempt to hold it back this time. There’s just no use. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them, as crazy at is sounds, knowing how they are, but...they’re my parents. They raised me. They took care of me. Yeah, they were hella strict, but they looked out for me. I had it better than others. It’s not like they beat me or anything like that. They wanted me to lead a good life. It’s just that...they were just too paranoid, you know? Too afraid that I’ll go against what they wanted for me, and if I did...I’d end up on a bad path, or whatever. Like a drug addict, or in prison, or dead,”
“I understand,” Gerard leaned over and handed me a box of tissues. “But you didn’t end up any of those things, did you?”
“Well, no,” I took the box, my hand trembling. “But when they found out about me being gay...they told me to get out...and to never come back, or they’d call the police...and I just...”
Before I knew it, I was sobbing. I put my hands in my face, muffling my cries, the box of tissues long forgotten. It just came over me, without any warning. I don’t think I cried this hard in a long, long time. I don’t even care how ridiculous I must look right now. I knew this would be coming sooner or later. I knew all of this wouldn’t be easy.
I looked back up at Gerard, who was absolutely speechless. He stood there, his eyes brimming with utter shock and dismay, his mouth open.
“They wouldn’t even let me pack anything. They just threw me out of the house, only with the clothes on my back,”
“Frankie…” Gerard said under his breath, still mortified.
“And I was left to live out on the streets. No fucking place to go…”
“Frankie...how long was it like that?”
“Honestly…” I sniffled, rubbing my tearful eyes. “I’ve lost track of time...it had to be months...several months,”
Gerard didn’t say anything. He just shook his head in disapproval, his face still holding the same forlorn look.
“Frankie…”
I jumped as I suddenly felt arms being wrapped around me, holding me in a familiar tight, shaking embrace.
“Frankie!” Gerard cried.
That was when I let it all out. I sobbed and wailed so fucking hard with my face buried in Gerard’s shoulder, I could hardly breathe. I wrapped my arms around Gerard, not ever letting go. I was letting it all out. I had to, and it felt so fucking good doing so. But I also feel fucking terrible. All this time I’ve tried avoiding the memories of my past, locking them up in the darkest depths of my mind, and this is what it’s done to me…
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry if I made you upset. I’m sorry if I-”
“No!” Gerard exclaimed. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t worry about me. You have nothing to be sorry for,”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m damn sure!” Gerard held me up, his shaking hands on my shoulders. “How can you be sorry if you didn’t do anything wrong, Frankie? You’re letting it all out. You’re letting go,”
“I know…” I stopped and tried to breathe, regaining control. “I know I’m letting it all out. That’s what I wanna do. I wanna let go of what’s happened. I don’t wanna be afraid of it anymore!”
“Well…” Gerard wiped the tears from my eyes, smiling. “How do you feel now?”“I…,” I paused. How do I feel now, actually? I know that the past is the past. It can’t be changed. There’s nothing I can obviously do about that. But can I move on? Can I look at my past without any fear? Can I face those demons and tell them I’m not scared anymore?
Yes. Yes, I fucking can. I spilled out everything. I cried. I sobbed. I felt the pain. It hurt like hell, but not anymore. I’m not scared anymore...and it was all because I let it all out, in front of Gerard. I have nothing to be afraid of anymore.
“Gerard…” I said. “I feel better...so much better,”
“Really?” Gerard asked. “You swear?”
“I swear on my grave,” I smiled. “I mean it,”
“Good,” Gerard smiled back, hugging me once again. He is still so warm. I breathed in the scent of cigarettes on him, still smiling. I never, ever want to let him go. I don’t want him to let go of me, either.
“Well…,” I said, looking up at Gerard. “I guess now you know why I’m here,”
“Pretty much,” he nodded, smiling down at me. “And I’m glad you’re here, Frankie. I’m glad you came down here last night. I’m glad that...I had someone that wanted to talk to me, when no one else would,”
I swear at that moment I caught myself blush a little. I could barely stop myself from smiling, hearing Gerard say those words, seeing his beautiful face, seeing the light behind his eyes…
“Thank you, Frankie,” Gerard whispered.
“You’re welcome, Gerard,” I said. “And...thank you. Thank you for letting me vent.Thank you...for listening. I really appreciate it,”
“No problem...Frankie,” Gerard put a hand on my head, lightly ruffling my styled black hair. I just smiled. If it were anyone else that did it, I would have gotten mad. I hate it when people touch my hair, let alone mess it up. But not here with Gerard. I don’t care if my hair is ruined. In fact, think I actually like being patted on the head by him…
“You really like calling me Frankie, don’t you?” I laughed.
“Yeah, so you better get used to it!” Gerard sneered. “Fraaaaankiiieee,”
“Oh, come on!” I playfully slapped him, still giggling. “Maybe I should call you something too,”
“Like what?”
“Oh, gee, I dunno…” I said.
Wait a minute. I know.
“That’s it! I’ll call you Gee!”
I swear, the look on Gerard was priceless. He’s gonna really hate his new nickname, isn’t he?
“You can’t be serious,”
“Oh, I’m dead serious...Gee!”
“Oh, no. Not gonna happen!” Gerard turned away, crossing his arms.
“Oh, come on! It sounds so cute!” I cooed. “It’s so fitting, too!”
“It sounds dumb!”
“No it doesn’t. Come on, man. Stop being such a killjoy...Gee!”
Gerard shook his head, facepalming.
“Ugh...how did I not know you were gonna be so stubborn? Are you like this with the guys?”
“Who?” I asked.
“You know…” Gerard said. “The guys upstairs. Ray, Bob...my little brother, Mikey,”
“Oh, I dunno. It depends, I guess,”
Maybe now is a good time to ask Gerard how he knows Ray and Bob. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask how he came around to moving here. I already told him everything about me (at least, what lead up to me moving in). Maybe...it’s okay to ask him why he stays down here all the time, and get his side of the story. Now that he knows more about me, he’s a little more warmed up to me, isn’t he?
“You know, speaking of them,” I said. “How do you know Ray and Bob? What made you come move in here? Where did you…”
I shut my mouth after I saw how Gerard reacted the minute I started asking him. He sat there with his head hung down, his eyes vacant and wide, his mouth slightly agape. What little color his skin may have previously had instantly vanished.
Oh, no...what have I done? Goddamn it, Frank…you dumbass...
“Gerard?” I said, reaching a hand out to him. “You alri-”
“No!” Gerard snapped, slapping my hand away. He wrapped his arms around himself, shaking uncontrollably as he began to rock himself back and forth.
Oh, fuck...oh, fuck...I’ve really done it...I really fucked up…
“Gerard, I’m sorry, “ I said weakly, foolishly reaching out to him again. “I didn’t mean to-”
“No!” Gerard screamed, looking back up at me with utter fear in his eyes as he shoved me away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me! Don’t you fucking dare!”
I sat there, feeling myself shrink in the couch, wanting to disappear. I can’t believe I let myself do this to him...I pushed him too far...I feel so fucking awful right now, and I’m terrified, seeing him lose himself.
Gerard clamped his hands to his head, grabbing and tugging at his messy hair. He huffed frantically as he continued to rock back and forth violently.
“No...please...stop it!” He yelled. “Don’t hurt them...don’t...no, daddy, mama, please, no! Daddy! Mama!”
Gerard curled up in the corner of the couch, letting go of his hair and started hitting himself on the head, as if trying to fight with whatever nightmare was going on in his head.
“Mama!” He cried. “Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!”
Oh my god...now I know where the bruises came from…
“Gerard, stop it!” I sprang up from the couch and reached for Gerard’s arms, trying to stop him from beating himself to death. “Stop hurting yourself, Gerard!”
“Go away!” He screamed, swinging a fist right at me. “Get the fuck away from me!”
Gerard’s fist hit me right in the chest, making me fall back on the floor. I coughed and gagged, feeling the air rush out of my lungs. The impact of the blow left my chest pulsating in pain, making me weak and groggy. I backed away from Gerard, who now stood over me with a baseball bat clutched in his hand, with twisted fear and rage beaming in his eyes.
Oh no...he’s gonna kill me...I’m gonna fucking die here...
“Please…” I coughed, cowering away from him. “Please...don’t kill me,”
“Get out!” Gerard hollered, swinging the bat at me. “Get the fuck away from me!”
I sprang up and dodged his attack, the bat slamming on the hard ground instead of my head. I ran like hell and jolted up the stairs, escaping from the psychotic Gerard. I opened up the door and slammed it shut behind me, gasping for air as my whole body trembled. I ran to the bathroom and locked it shut, still trying to catch my breath. I sank down and sat on the tile floor, burying my face in my sweat-drenched hands. I feel like complete garbage. I feel sick to my stomach. I feel like I’m gonna throw up…
I gagged, feeling bile build up inside of me. I rushed to the toilet, puking up my weak dinner of potato chips and coffee. I coughed and gagged and retched, the vile taste of vomit burning my dry mouth and throat. I flushed the toilet, turning on the sink and splashing my face with ice cold water. I looked up at the vanity mirror, cussing at my own ugly reflection.
“Frank, you fucking son of a bitch!” I said under my breath. “You motherfucking dumb piece of shit! What the hell were you thinking?!”
I slammed my fist on the counter, desperately holding back every single urge within me from punching the mirror and shattering it to pieces. I screamed, falling back on the floor and wrapping myself in fetal position, begging to vanish from this fucking place. I screamed and cried and cursed so much I thought I was going crazy, like the murderous madman downstairs.
I don’t believe it. None of this is happening. This can’t be fucking real. I was almost murdered. My whole head would have been a mush of blood and skull fragments and guts and brain matter, had I not reacted in time. Gerard almost fucking killed me in cold blood. The same man I spilled my whole heart and soul out to almost ended my own life…
Holy shit. This is what Ray and Mikey warned me about. This is why they didn’t want me to go downstairs. They were right. I may as well have been signing my death certificate going down there...they were right all along. I’m such an idiot for thinking I can tame the beast in that godforsaken basement...I was so wrong. In fact, dead wrong…
“Frank?” A voice called out, followed by a light knock on the door. “You alright?”
It’s Mikey.
“Frank?” Mikey called, tapping on the door again. “I know you’re in there. You okay?”
“Yes…” I replied, lying to myself and to Mikey. “I’m...okay,”
I’m not okay. I’m not o-fucking-kay. I was almost brutally murdered by your mentally disturbed brother downstairs! Of course I’m not okay!
“You wanna come out?” Mikey asked. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No...I’m not hurt,” lying again, gritting my teeth. My chest still hurts so bad from when Gerard hit me. I know it’s gonna hurt for a long, long time…
“You wanna come out?” He asked again.
No. No I don’t. I wanna fucking disappear right now. I don’t wanna sit there as you tell me the painfully obvious, how right you were along. It’s not gonna fucking happen, Mikey. Never.
“No,” I hissed. “Leave me alone,”
“Please, Frank?” Mikey begged. “I’m really worried about you…”
“Oh, really?” I sneered. “Why?”
“Because...my brother tried to hurt you…”
“Well, no shit, Sherlock!” I yelled, so badly wanting Mikey to just go the fuck away. “In fact, he tried killing me! You know what this all means? You were right all along, Mikey! Are you fucking happy, now?”
“No, I’m not!” Mikey refuted. “Just please come on out. I’m not gonna be an ass to you, okay? I just wanna make sure you’re alright,”
I said nothing. I just sat there and buried my face in my hands, hoping I can cry myself to sleep in this bathroom…
Why did I think it was a good idea to go down there? I regret not listening to Ray and Mikey. Here I am, thinking I can prove them wrong, thinking that Gerard can be helped...and the end result was me almost being killed by him, all because I asked him the wrong questions at the wrong time…
“Come on, Frank. Please come out. Let’s talk, okay? I just wanna make sure you’re alright...please?”
It’s no use. I have to come out. I can’t stay in here forever, as much as I wish I could. I have to talk to Mikey. I have to tell him everything that happened. I have to tell him about his brother...and ask him questions about him, too. In fact, lots of questions...

Notes