Life on the Murder Scene

The plane ride takes too long. I sit next to Frank, biting at my nails. He tries to calm me down as best he can without making it obvious that something is going on. As much as I’d love to crawl into his seat and curl up in his lap, I know I can’t. Even though things are much better for Gerard I still want to keep Frank and I’s relationship a secret for a little longer. The band just brought in a new member and they need to focus on that. Frank doesn’t seem to mind too much, enjoying the fact he has to sneak kisses. The secretive aspect to our relationship gives it some excitement. Regardless, after sitting on my ass for the last three or so hours all I want to do is curl up with Frank.

“How are you doing, babe?” Frank whispers in my ear.

I glance over at Ray who sits at the end of our aisle. His eyes are shut tight, mouth hanging open pulling air into it in short grunts. I’m convinced Ray took something before the flight. He’s been knocked out since before we even took off.

I lean my head into Frank’s shoulder pressing my lips to the sensitive flesh right under his ear. The guitarist’s short fingernails dig into the sink of my wrist, letting out a breathy moan. I smirk into Frank’s neck, proud of myself for being able to elicit such a response. “I really want a cigarette.”

“We will get you one as soon as we land, I promise,” Frank answers back with a smile, all of his teeth showing. “Are you excited to be going back to California?”

I chuckle, shooting a quick glance back at Gerard. He’s still scribbling away in the black leather bound pad he’d packed. “I just hope that everything goes smoothly and being back into serious band stuff won’t upset Gee’s recovery. He’s been doing so well.”

Although Gerard has completely renounced all forms of alcohol and won’t even take a damn Aspirin for his occasional migraines, I still worry. The last tour was rough and most days I wasn’t sure if my oldest brother was going to return home in the van or a body bag. Now that he’s back to his normal self I want to cling to that for as long as I possibly can. I worry that anything too demanding or high priority will send him spiraling down again.

“Hey,” Frank twists a little in his chair, putting the armrest up so that he can scoot closer to me. His finger’s curl around my exposed knee, eyes focused on mine. “Gerard is going to do just fine. I’m going to make sure of that. I’m sure you will too. He doesn’t want to go back down that road. Don’t worry about him okay, Mak? You just enjoy this trip.”

I nod, chewing on my lip. I know all the things Frank has just told me are true, but I still can’t help but worry. At this point I’m chalking it up to not having been able smoke for the past few hours and not taking my pills today. Ever since the tour, my anxiety has gotten increasing worse. I freak out over the smallest things, worrying that it’s the end of the world or that those involved won’t make it out alive. The pills help, but only sometimes and I usually forget to take them. Holed up in Frank’s apartment I haven’t really needed them. There isn’t too much to worry about. The guitarist and I are attached at the hip and even when we aren’t I know he’s just in the next room. Being outside and having responsibilities again just sets everything off. Frank has been very understanding, always sitting and rubbing my back and softly singing various songs to me until I’ve calmed down enough to talk to him about what’s going on. Unfortunately, we are stuck on this blasted plane and he can’t do either of those things.

Taking in a deep breath I remind myself that in another hour or so we will be in Los Angeles and will have the whole rest of the day to snuggle up in bed and just be with each other. “How is the hotel room situation working out?”

Frank shrugs, “I’m assuming that the way it’s all going to be set up is a room for Ray, Bob and myself and then a room for your brothers and you. That will probably change over the course of the two weeks though.”

I nod my understanding, scooting over and resting my head on Frank’s shoulder. He’d looked up a few touristy things for us to do in what little spare time we’ll have. One day the entire band is going to visit Disney, which I’m positive all of us are pretty excited for, seems as we weren’t able to take the trip to Six Flags. Another day Frank wanted to take me down to Santa Monica and Venice Beach. I think it’s sweet that he plans stuff even though he knows I’d be perfectly content just drinking shitty hotel coffee and watching whatever it was we found on television that day.

“Flight attendants prepare for landing,” the fuzzy male voice of our captain sounds over the plane loudspeakers.

Frank and I let out a collective sigh, both equally happy knowing we are going to be getting off the plane soon. The guitarist reaches over me and slides the window open so that we can see our decent into LA. Rolling my head over to the side, I keep my eyes focused on the buildings, getting larger and larger as we continue towards the ground.

Frank presses his lips to my cheek, pulling away only seconds before Ray begins to stir, shifting around in his seat and throwing his long limbs around as his eyes flutter open. The curly haired guitarist yawns, turning his gaze on Frank and I, “Are we almost there?”

Frank grins, “Dude, we’re landing.”

Notes

Sorry if these past few chapters have been kind of boring. I promise things will pick up again within the next two or three chapters.
Thank you to everyone that continues to read, comment, subscribe and vote it means so so much to me.
As always, I love you guys and keep your chins head high :)