Anonymous

Brian and I were nervous about the possible repercussions if anyone discovered we were the ones to post the Anonymous message at Imnotokay.net. It was causing more of an uproar than we had originally thought- and, to my surprise, did nothing to suppress our dear fans fears, instead it fueled them. They were more afraid of the harm that Eliza would do to you; and though I partially wanted this…I wanted them to know…they even said it: “If it is true, what could we do about it?” Nothing, that’s right. Because no one would have the heart to show you the slander we posted. I thought about deleting it; but the damage was done. Everyone had seen it, and in a matter of seconds it reached buzznet, myspace, and livejournal. All the places I wanted to avoid.

Not to mention, our fans were smarted than originally expected. The immediately figured out it was Brian and I, but with no proof to back it up. Part of me regretted it; the other part felt it had to be done…there was another part of me that was dead. I betrayed you, didn’t I? I gave everyone permission to dig deeper into your private life- something you tried so hard to hold sacred. I honestly felt like I was just like her.

You hid yourself in our bunk area for most of the day. We were all worried, but we all figured that you needed some time alone. You were on edge. Depression was laced in your eyes despite how “happy” you seemed to be to the band. Lies. More lies, Gerard, when will they stop? Its like you were on pills again, only this time the drug was your relationship with Eliza- but she was destroying you in the same matter.

I was staring at Brian, talking to him with my eyes- I think we both agreed what we posted was wrong.

I was about to say something out loud- what that was, I can’t remember now- when you bolted into our living area; flustered and distressed. Your phone was away from your ear, the screaming voice of a very angry girl on the other line. You paced around, heaving as if you were about to throw up- you looked like you were having a cross between a heart attack and an asthma attack.

“Eliza stop,” you weren’t even talking in the phone, “Eliza just calm down.”

Bob and Ray were blocking my way out of the booth; but that didn’t stop me from flying over the table to reach for you- though I apologize to Ray’s future children for accidentally crushing his nuts on my way out. I grabbed your jeans so you would stop the pacing; grabbing the phone from your hand and turning it off. She was screeching: “It was Frankie! It was that fucking faggot Frankie!”

Before the flood of questions- “What’s wrong Gerard?”- I dragged you out of the bus by your jeans. It was awkward; we almost fell down the stairs from rushing like two maniacs. We had to get away from the perplexed looks of our friends….I don’t know why I had to exactly; I think because they would immediately start questioning me when you proved incapable to form coherent responses. You were behind me, mumbling…but what was falling from your mouth didn’t sound like words. Just noises. Gurgling noises, like you were possessed. It was frightening- were you that old to have a heart attack?

I pulled you behind the bus, next to a gated fence that overlooked a fresh green scenery and the new setting sun. The broken sounds of bands already playing in the venue filled our ears but couldn’t muffle your strangled cries. I quickly closed the gap between our bodies, moving my hands to glide against your temples and massage away the tears the continued to fall. You wrapped your arms around my waist- I half noted how you pushed my shirt up so that you could feel my bare skin- and buried your face in my hair. I thought it was painful to see you cry, it was heart wrenching to feel you sob against me. It hurt more knowing that I must have been the source of your tears.

“Hey Gerard,” I whispered, pulling back only slightly so I could rest my forehead against yours, “what’s wrong?”

“Someone posted some shit about me and Eliza,” you choked, closing your eyes to block the rest of the tears. You know your eyes were green. They were beautiful though, despite the glistening sadness. Bright and alive; not a hint of brown or gray. Green…isn’t it cool that we kind of have the same color eyes?

“What kind of shit?”

“That…she was using me and I was too blind to see…”

You opened your eyes to look into my own. Did you think I did it? You probably did for a split second; but the concern that pooled in my green orbs made you forget about your accusation. I made imaginary circles around the sides of your face, to calm the jerks in your wounded body. Your face was stern and unyielding for a second, as if you were looking for my true intentions. Looking for anything negative. If you look hard enough, you can always find something you hate- I think a fan said that.

“Am I blind?” You asked.

“You are,” I answered honestly, “but you aren’t deaf and dumb.”

Your mouth opened very slightly; only enough so I could see a peek of your white teeth. Your lips were chapped from the days of not caring for yourself; but behind the dull pink I could see the fresh rosy lips I longed to kiss. I had to kiss. Maybe if I spilled my emotions in you, you would see the truth.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Your words caught me off guard and I looked at you perplexed by your sudden change of subject. Your eyes were no longer on me, but looking towards the sun set; the orange glow splashed on your face, washing away the many sins that had plagued you since January. Your black hair was lighter now, angelic, bringing the heavenly light to your body. You looked like an angry with dark clothing and somehow that was the most beautiful image I could have of you.

I looked at the setting sun, how its eternal light seemed to stretch across the sky; the blackness of night seemed so far away. I found how beautiful we were standing there; dressed in black clothing, staring into the future. It was a funeral; it was the beginning of our lives.