Brother (Frerard)

I sit at my desk, blankly staring at the paper before me, pen in hand; my mind aimlessly wandering as the sun blares through the window of my study. The scent of coffee lingers; the smell touched upon by the rising smoke of my cigarette, slowly burning away in the ash tray. “Everything okay, babe?” Lindsey chimes, popping her head in the doorway, breaking me from my hypnotic state.
“Uh, yeah. I’m good,” I reply. My wife knows me better, giving a slight nod at the obvious lie that escaped my lips and leaves me to myself.

I stare at my empty page once again, glance at my laptop and let my eyes drift to the framed record on my wall, hanging oddly by itself; before my eyes fall to the phone atop my desk.
I remember that day so well. We had come so far as men…as a band. I was so proud; of Ray, Bob and my little brother, and I was proud of Frank especially. Fuck. I haven’t spoken to Frank since the band split. I realize silently to myself. I’ll call him. Then it hits me. I don’t even have his fucking number. Why? We used to be so, so close. There was a time when we would confide in each other about every little thing that happened in our lives, now I didn't even have his number. I’ll call Mikey.

Like me, Mikey still lives in Los Angeles with his girlfriend in Beverly Hills and Ray and Christa are still here. Bob too, however he is planning the move back to Chicago, last time we caught up. It was just Frank who moved…I think. Wait, do I even know where Frank is? I grasp the concept that I really know nothing about him anymore and at that, my heart sinks. I’m drowning, reaching towards the surface fighting desperately for oxygen, sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss, losing consciousness, losing life.

I snap out of my daydream and draw my attention back to the depressing problem at hand, which is basically tracking down his number in the least stalker way possible. I pick up the receiver anyhow and dial Mikey’s number, listening to it ring at least five times. Just as I’m about to give in I hear a voice on the other end.
"Hello?”
"Hey bro,”
"Oh hey, what’s up?” Mikey asks, sounding surprised to hear me.
"Not too much,”
"How’s Lindsey?”
"Fine,” I murmur flatly.
"How’s Bandit?”
"Good,”
"Bro, what’s wrong?”
I sigh. All I wanted was one thing and it was not for him to be inquisitive. He’s my brother and he means well and it has been long overdue to actually sit down and have a conversation with him, but today is unfortunately not the time.

“I actually called to ask you for something,”
"Yes…well what would that be exactly, Gerard?”
"D-do you y-ya know, speak to F-F-Frank, by any chance?” I stammer out, through trembling lips. It’s strange to be so anxious to say speak his name aloud. He is nothing more than a former band member and I’d like to say former friend. I tell myself. But if I was being honest with myself, which I was definitely not. it was realistically much more complex than that.

"Um, yeah. Of course, I keep in touch with everyone.”
"Do you think maybe I could...possibly have his number?”
"I thought you had it,”
"No, I don’t, otherwise I wouldn’t be fucking asking, would I?” I mutter bitterly. I don’t mean to be snappy, but I am rather close to cracking the shits. All I want is a fucking cell phone number. I knew I should have just asked Bob or Ray. Either one would have happily handed it over with no questions asked.

"Look, I’ll be over in twenty minutes,” Mikey states suddenly before leaving me with a beeping phone. Great, no number. Why is he coming over? Just dish out his fucking cell phone number and leave me alone, Mikey! Little brothers, what can you do? Kill them? Bury them? I wish. I mentally slap myself a few times for being so harsh and insensitive about Mikey’s sweetness towards me but it honestly doesn’t really require a house visit. I wanted this to be simple. That's all.

~xoxoxoxo~

Typical Mikey of course; as always he is Johnny On-the-spot and arrives exactly twenty minutes later just like he told me he would. Lindsey opens the door and is taken back at the site of Mikey.
"Hey Mikes, please come in,” she greets happily as I stroll awkwardly to the lounge. I may have accidentally-on-purpose forgotten to inform Lindsey of Mikey’s abrupt visit, but oh well. I can tell she is genuinely happy to see him and couldn’t give a shit about not knowing beforehand. He is family after all. Irritating, persistent, nosey littler brother, but still family.

"Babe, would you be able to give us some space?” I ask awkwardly. “Of course,” she agrees. “I have to do…grocery shopping anyway. Be back soon,” she tells me, planting a kiss on my head. “Bye Mikey.” And with the click of the lock she’s gone.

"
"So…” Mikey starts slowly. “Frank’s phone number…you asked me if I had it,”
"I did.” Fuck, always point out the obvious, why don’t you? Get to the point!
"Well, I do. But why?”
"I want to prank call him?” I joke. “Clearly I want to ring him, dickhead.”
"Is that a good idea?”
"Isn’t it? It’s been years,” I point out.
"Gerard, have you forgotten everything that happened?”
"No, I haven’t. Mikey,” I exhale sharply. Stupid question. How could I forget? I shattered the heart of the most important living person in my life right now and you're asking me if I have forgotten! Do I fucking have dementia? If I did, I wouldn't fucking know about it would I? Of course I remember. My brain screams at him.
“Please give it to me,” I say in a deflated tone.
"Fine.” Mikey grumpily hands me a little folded piece of paper, but I don’t open it. It can wait. “I just wanted to make sure you fully thought this through is all, okay?” Mikey’s concern is adorable, so much that I pinch his cheeks and treat him like a baby for at least ten seconds. “Cute wittle Mikey,” I say in a baby voice.
"Yeah, okay, shut the fuck up, dude,”
"Sorry bro,” I laugh.
"Thank you though and I thought about it thoroughly,” I lie. I haven’t thought about this at all. But it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? How upset can he be? Like I said, it has been years. Two, to be precise.

I hug Mikey and promise we will keep in touch and thank him again. As soon as I close the door behind him I hurry to the contentment of my study and reside in my comfy chair. Hesitantly I dial his number, but with the first ring I hang the phone up hastily. “Fuck, Gerard, just do it,” I utter aloud to no one.I dial again, this time keeping the shaky phone to my now very sweaty ear. I always shake and sweat when I’m nervous. He answers on the second ring, his voice as beautiful as ever, just how I remember.
"Um, hello,”
“Frank?” I whisper, barely audible.
"Gerard?” he responds equally as quiet.
"Yeah, it’s me.”

There’s a short pause and I am unsure if I should consider it as a good or bad thing.

“Sorry,”
I continue in hope.
“It’s okay, but how did you get my number?” he asks. There is nothing suspicious or harsh in his voice, just pure curiosity and genuine surprise. I hope he misses me, even if it amounts to nothing more than microscopic.
"Mikey gave it to me. I hope that’s okay.”
"Yeah, it’s cool. Why are you calling?”
"To see how you have been and shit.” Oh shit, I shouldn’t have called.
"Oh my god, I shouldn’t have called. This was a bad idea. What have I done,” I verbally panic, forgetting about Frank on the other end, listening intently to every word.
"Dude, hush,” he laughs. I press my mouth shut instantly, but I forgot how nice it was to hear him laugh, and then I remember. I remember everything.
"Gerard its…it’s nice to hear from you. I missed you,” he admits, almost inaudible to my ears. My breath hitches in my throat and the butterflies flutter excitedly, confused like they’ve been shaken awake to their dismay.
“I missed you too Frank,” I breath.
"I have to go, but you have my cell phone number. Text me.”

I type his number directly into my phone under the title of guitarist. Lindsey will assume its Ray. It sounds suspicious like I have something to hide; not that talking to Frank is something I have to keep secret but I want to wait until shit falls apart before I tell her we have been talking again. Like Mikey, she loves me but she too will disapprove of such contact. We say our goodbyes and with no more lingering hesitations I message him as soon as the phone is back in its place.

~xoxoxoxo~

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~ xoxo Chemical Halo (new profile) sorry guys