‹ Prequel: Rock Star Father
Status: On hiatus for now, most likely to be left unfinished.
My Teenage Romance
Proposals
“Hey, Celeste, have ya got any homework ya desperately need to do?” Nana asked, walking into the room.
“Err… no, I did it at lunch… why?” I asked curiously.
“Well, we were thinking – your father, Joe and I, that we should go out to celebrate!”
“Some other people are gonna be there too, Alicia, your-”
“Aunt-to-be, because she’s Mikey’s fiancée, her surname is Simmons, Gee, I know all this stuff! Plus Mikey told me!” I interrupted my father, sighing. He laughed and continued,
“The guys are all gonna be there too-” I again interrupted him, this time by hugging him and yelling over and over, “YES! YES! YES!” as Nana and Gerard laughed.
“I’ll take it you’re excited, then?” Gerard chuckled.
“Uh-huh. When are we going?” I asked.
“Seven. It’s a nice Italian restaurant we’re going to; I know how much you love it!” Nana giggled.
“Woo!” I cheered. I was ecstatic. I hadn’t seen my dad since Christmas last year, or my uncle, and I hadn’t seen the rest of the band since before that. I missed them all so much!
"Celeste... I think it's time we went to see someting." Gerard sighed.
"Alright." I agreed curiously. "I'll just text Quinn and everyone so they won't waste their time looking for me here or phoning me." I had a slight inference of what he was taking me to see, and I guess I was glad. But I was scared too. Either way, I put my coat and beanie back on and we departed.
Arriving in the New York City Cemetery, I took my father’s hand. I knew where we were going. After a moment’s walking, we stopped at a tombstone directly under a yew tree. It read: ‘Here lies Janet Alice Calloway, beloved daughter, mother and fiancée. 1975-1997 “One day, robots who live off coffee will rule the earth!”’ I choked on a tear or two and saw some dripping down my father’s face.
“You have her face, you know. Janet’s. Her nose, her optimism, her curiosity, her compassion, her- her-” at this point my father could not say anymore, and gripped my hand tightly. He saw the tear that was making its way down my face and wiped away its counterparts leaking from his eyes.
“I loved her so much, she was my world. And so are you. You have been ever since she came home from the hospital. You were so tiny; it was when I accepted that fact that I’m a father.” My Dad sighed and continued, not bothering to wipe further tears from his face. “When Janet died, I lost it. I couldn’t handle the fact that half my world had been destroyed. I couldn’t take care of you and I couldn’t realise that. So Mikey took you in.”
“I remember.” I murmured. It was true. Vivid images came flooding back, like water from behind a dam. I must have been suppressing this all my life.
I was three years old, dressed in black tights and an MCR shirt that was the smallest size, but was so big on me I was wearing it as a dress. I bobbed past a door and heard sobbing. I stopped and knocked.
“Daddy?” I called.
“Come in here, Sugar!” He replied. I bobbed in and saw him discreetly wiping his eyes on his sleeve. His eyes were red, but I just assumed that it was make-up, as I’d seen him wear it like that before. He smiled, and motioned for me to sit next to him on the big, black sofa. I tried to get up but was too small. Beginning to get a little annoyed, I looked towards my Dad. He chuckled half heartedly and picked me up, sitting me on his knee. “One day you’ll be as tall as Uncle Ray-Ray!” He encouraged.
“I will?!” I questioned, my eyes wide with wonder.
“Yep. Remember the other day when Mama-….” He stopped at the mention of Janet, my mother and hugged me tighter.
“Daddy… where is Mama?” I inquired, somehow knowing the answer wouldn’t be a nice one.
“She… she’s dead, Sugar. She was at that hotel, at the Fender conference, and the hotel went up in flames.” He sighed, and another tear rolled down his cheek. “There was a fire, and she was sleeping. She was trapped; a beam had fallen over the door, keeping it shut. She was on the fifth floor, so if she jumped from the window she’d certainly die. She- she knew she was a goner, so she wrote a letter and put it in a fireproof safe, taking a sleeping pill and lying on her bed. Only fumes managed to get in, so her body was intact- not damaged. So was the picture of us she fell asleep looking at.” More tears were rolling down his face and some were forming in my eyes.
“When did it happen?” I choked.
“The day before yesterday. I got a call telling me yesterday. I was waiting for the right moment to tell you. I’m so sorry, Sugar.” He was weeping now, and the sight made me follow suit. I hugged him, my tiny limbs hardly grasping anything, and re-assured him,
“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Over and over, hugging him tightly I repeated those words.
“Gerard?” My uncle, Mikey was standing at the door. He walked in and greeted us, asking for a private word with his brother. “My new friend Alicia’s in the hall, go talk to her.” Mikey suggested, helping me off my father’s knee.
“Okay.” I agreed and bobbed out of the door, wiping my eyes.
And that’s where the memory ends. It just fades back into now, in this cemetery. As I wiped the tears away from my eyes and clasped my father’s hand, I told him my memory.
“That’s exactly what happened. Down to the dialogue. That’s amazing! Are you sure you never remembered this before?” He questioned.
“Positive.” I replied.
“Well, we’d better get back; we need to be at the restaurant in an hour.”
“Alright then.”
Embellishing my eyes with black eyeliner I smiled as I looked at the text I’d just received from Quinn. “Happy b-day sweetie. I’m happy4u- ur gonna C ur uncle+aunt! oxo Quinn” Patrick had sent me a text also. “No dance 2nite – Miss Denca on hols. Starts next Tues. Happy bday FISH+CHIPS!” ‘Fish And Chips’ was his nickname for me, picking up on the fact that I’m British.
Arriving at our table, I squealed when I saw two out of the three people I’d missed most: Mikey and Frank.
“That’s not fair! I’m shorter than a fucking fifteen-year-old!” Frank grumbled as he hugged me.
“She was taller than you when she was freaking thirteen! But, jeez, kid you’ve grown!” Mikey laughed.
“Guys, language!” I reminded them as two eight-year-olds gaped at us.
“I was swearing when I was that young.” Frank shrugged.
“Yeah, but your from New flaming Jersey. They’re wearing lederhosen. So it’s possible that they’re German. And, their accents say they’re German.” I pointed out.
“Shit.” Frank muttered as Mikey laughed and we sat down.
“So, um, hi, I’m Alicia.” The tall, beautiful, pale, dark haired woman sitting in front of me smiled.
“Hi.” I muttered, suddenly becoming unimaginably shy.
“So how has the life of Celeste Way changed since last time we met?” Ray asked.
“She has a freaking boyfriend!” my Dad gasped.
“You’re such a gossip!” I sighed.
“What’s his name?” Mikey questioned.
“Quinn.” I replied.
“Err… no, I did it at lunch… why?” I asked curiously.
“Well, we were thinking – your father, Joe and I, that we should go out to celebrate!”
“Some other people are gonna be there too, Alicia, your-”
“Aunt-to-be, because she’s Mikey’s fiancée, her surname is Simmons, Gee, I know all this stuff! Plus Mikey told me!” I interrupted my father, sighing. He laughed and continued,
“The guys are all gonna be there too-” I again interrupted him, this time by hugging him and yelling over and over, “YES! YES! YES!” as Nana and Gerard laughed.
“I’ll take it you’re excited, then?” Gerard chuckled.
“Uh-huh. When are we going?” I asked.
“Seven. It’s a nice Italian restaurant we’re going to; I know how much you love it!” Nana giggled.
“Woo!” I cheered. I was ecstatic. I hadn’t seen my dad since Christmas last year, or my uncle, and I hadn’t seen the rest of the band since before that. I missed them all so much!
"Celeste... I think it's time we went to see someting." Gerard sighed.
"Alright." I agreed curiously. "I'll just text Quinn and everyone so they won't waste their time looking for me here or phoning me." I had a slight inference of what he was taking me to see, and I guess I was glad. But I was scared too. Either way, I put my coat and beanie back on and we departed.
Arriving in the New York City Cemetery, I took my father’s hand. I knew where we were going. After a moment’s walking, we stopped at a tombstone directly under a yew tree. It read: ‘Here lies Janet Alice Calloway, beloved daughter, mother and fiancée. 1975-1997 “One day, robots who live off coffee will rule the earth!”’ I choked on a tear or two and saw some dripping down my father’s face.
“You have her face, you know. Janet’s. Her nose, her optimism, her curiosity, her compassion, her- her-” at this point my father could not say anymore, and gripped my hand tightly. He saw the tear that was making its way down my face and wiped away its counterparts leaking from his eyes.
“I loved her so much, she was my world. And so are you. You have been ever since she came home from the hospital. You were so tiny; it was when I accepted that fact that I’m a father.” My Dad sighed and continued, not bothering to wipe further tears from his face. “When Janet died, I lost it. I couldn’t handle the fact that half my world had been destroyed. I couldn’t take care of you and I couldn’t realise that. So Mikey took you in.”
“I remember.” I murmured. It was true. Vivid images came flooding back, like water from behind a dam. I must have been suppressing this all my life.
I was three years old, dressed in black tights and an MCR shirt that was the smallest size, but was so big on me I was wearing it as a dress. I bobbed past a door and heard sobbing. I stopped and knocked.
“Daddy?” I called.
“Come in here, Sugar!” He replied. I bobbed in and saw him discreetly wiping his eyes on his sleeve. His eyes were red, but I just assumed that it was make-up, as I’d seen him wear it like that before. He smiled, and motioned for me to sit next to him on the big, black sofa. I tried to get up but was too small. Beginning to get a little annoyed, I looked towards my Dad. He chuckled half heartedly and picked me up, sitting me on his knee. “One day you’ll be as tall as Uncle Ray-Ray!” He encouraged.
“I will?!” I questioned, my eyes wide with wonder.
“Yep. Remember the other day when Mama-….” He stopped at the mention of Janet, my mother and hugged me tighter.
“Daddy… where is Mama?” I inquired, somehow knowing the answer wouldn’t be a nice one.
“She… she’s dead, Sugar. She was at that hotel, at the Fender conference, and the hotel went up in flames.” He sighed, and another tear rolled down his cheek. “There was a fire, and she was sleeping. She was trapped; a beam had fallen over the door, keeping it shut. She was on the fifth floor, so if she jumped from the window she’d certainly die. She- she knew she was a goner, so she wrote a letter and put it in a fireproof safe, taking a sleeping pill and lying on her bed. Only fumes managed to get in, so her body was intact- not damaged. So was the picture of us she fell asleep looking at.” More tears were rolling down his face and some were forming in my eyes.
“When did it happen?” I choked.
“The day before yesterday. I got a call telling me yesterday. I was waiting for the right moment to tell you. I’m so sorry, Sugar.” He was weeping now, and the sight made me follow suit. I hugged him, my tiny limbs hardly grasping anything, and re-assured him,
“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Over and over, hugging him tightly I repeated those words.
“Gerard?” My uncle, Mikey was standing at the door. He walked in and greeted us, asking for a private word with his brother. “My new friend Alicia’s in the hall, go talk to her.” Mikey suggested, helping me off my father’s knee.
“Okay.” I agreed and bobbed out of the door, wiping my eyes.
And that’s where the memory ends. It just fades back into now, in this cemetery. As I wiped the tears away from my eyes and clasped my father’s hand, I told him my memory.
“That’s exactly what happened. Down to the dialogue. That’s amazing! Are you sure you never remembered this before?” He questioned.
“Positive.” I replied.
“Well, we’d better get back; we need to be at the restaurant in an hour.”
“Alright then.”
Embellishing my eyes with black eyeliner I smiled as I looked at the text I’d just received from Quinn. “Happy b-day sweetie. I’m happy4u- ur gonna C ur uncle+aunt! oxo Quinn” Patrick had sent me a text also. “No dance 2nite – Miss Denca on hols. Starts next Tues. Happy bday FISH+CHIPS!” ‘Fish And Chips’ was his nickname for me, picking up on the fact that I’m British.
Arriving at our table, I squealed when I saw two out of the three people I’d missed most: Mikey and Frank.
“That’s not fair! I’m shorter than a fucking fifteen-year-old!” Frank grumbled as he hugged me.
“She was taller than you when she was freaking thirteen! But, jeez, kid you’ve grown!” Mikey laughed.
“Guys, language!” I reminded them as two eight-year-olds gaped at us.
“I was swearing when I was that young.” Frank shrugged.
“Yeah, but your from New flaming Jersey. They’re wearing lederhosen. So it’s possible that they’re German. And, their accents say they’re German.” I pointed out.
“Shit.” Frank muttered as Mikey laughed and we sat down.
“So, um, hi, I’m Alicia.” The tall, beautiful, pale, dark haired woman sitting in front of me smiled.
“Hi.” I muttered, suddenly becoming unimaginably shy.
“So how has the life of Celeste Way changed since last time we met?” Ray asked.
“She has a freaking boyfriend!” my Dad gasped.
“You’re such a gossip!” I sighed.
“What’s his name?” Mikey questioned.
“Quinn.” I replied.