Demolition Lovers

For a house in New Jersey, it was pretty. Wood-panelled walls, a big leather couch, posters, artwork, pictures, candles. The smell of cigarettes lingered along with the rich scent of home-cooked meals, creating a home-y feel that I hadn’t felt in many years since my dad started his habits, and I instantly felt myself relax.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” He mumbled, throwing off the bag. I was starting to sweat now - the warmth was practically radiating in waves from the heater. I pulled off the hoodie from my back, draping it next to the bag and seating myself carefully on the worn black leather. The leather made that distinct squished-leather sound, making me nervous - at home, I had to be completely silent. Or else.

He turned on the TV and pulled out a crumpled cigarette, before noticing my nervousness and pulling out a cigarette, offering me one. I shook my head - I knew how strong addictions were - and stared forwards at the TV, not quite sure what to do. I played with my dirty hair, nibbled my fingernails, listened to the mindless drone of the TV - until another woman entered the room.

She was a blonde, not very tall woman with armfuls of groceries. “Aw, mom,” mystery man - who had been next to me - lamented, getting up off the couch, “I told you I’d do them.”

“And you keep forgetting. Besides, I needed some juice.” The woman replied, unloading the bags on the granite-top island table, pulling out various groceries.

“Oh. Mom. Erm, listen. You don’t mind having a houseguest, right?” he asked, looking semi-nervous.

“Of course not. Is he here?”

“It’s she. And she’s on the couch.”

Turning around, the woman stared at me in surprise, which quickly turned into a happy smile. “Oh hello, hun! The fridge and the spare cot in Mikey’s room is all yours.”

“Mikey?” I asked, turning around to stare at mystery man. His name was Mikey? Hmm… Unexpected.

“Did he not tell you his name again? That boy is Gerard. Mikey is his younger brother. Speaking of which, do you know where he is?” She turned around to face… Gerard. Hmm. Interesting name, I though to myself, nodding slightly.

“He’s probably at the Eyeball Records house. He has a job there mom, remember?”

“I know that, I just worry about you two.” She gave Gerard a stern look and turned to me. “So,” She asked, “Shall we get to know you? What’s your name? Where are you from?”

“I’m Ella. Ella Montgomery. I lived in Harrison.”

“She was about to jump off a bridge.” Gerard said bluntly, reaching for an apple before I accidentally-on-purpose stamped on his foot. He groaned and grabbed the apple, before limping back to the couch.

“Gerard!” His mom scolded, while watching me carefully. I swallowed my almost-outburst, blinkingback tears innocently. She stared at me, before returning to putting the groceries back in the fridge. “So,” she asked again. “Do your parents know Gerard?”

“Not that I know of.” It sounded innocent enough in my head, but I wasn’t sure about how it sounded said out loud. I was beginning to doubt my own sanity when she started to question me again. Who were my parents, did I have any siblings, which part of Harrison did I live in, where did I go to school at. I started to feel normal again, just slightly, before Gerard complained, “Mom, this isn’t the Spanish Inquisition. Leave her alone.”

“No! It’s fine!” I said, almost hysterically, but Gerard’s mom ignored him anyways, asking me questions anyways. It felt nice having a semi-decent conversation with someone who was a bit more sane than I probably would ever be.

After a few more minutes of questions, the front door opened again, and a lanky boy in round frame glasses and a messy semi-bowl-cut. He glanced at me, Gerard, his mom, and walked over to the apples and grabbed one for himself, munching into it before asking Gerard, “So, new girlfriend already?”

Gerard elbowed him in the stomach before returning to watching Cartoon Network. Weird choice for a guy, but this guy obviously wasn’t very… Regular.

“I’m Mikey.” He said, turning over to me, while his mom scolded, “Michael James Way, don’t be rude.”

“Ella.” I squeaked, before wandering over to the apples and grabbing one for myself, biting into it. I hadn’t realized I was so hungry, and within moments, I was done.

I could tell from the heat in the back of my eyes that Gerard’s mom was scrutinizing me very carefully, and I involuntarily shuddered. Somehow, I could tell that she could tell I was homeless. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach.

We sat, and watched TV for the rest of the hour, until Gerard decided that he’d head somewhere.

I followed him hesitantly, but he didn’t seem to mind, since he let me follow. We entered the room - and I gasped.

Posters, artwork, ink, pencils, pencil crayons. Art supplies, ticket stubs, posters, and clothes were strewn everywhere. I attempted stepping over some stuff, but Gerard kicked most of it out of the way. He headed towards the single standing chair and desk, pointing towards his desk and telling me in body-language to sit.

I sat on the bed, and he eyed me, before walking over to me and sitting down next to me.

“Lie down.”

“So you can rape me?”

“I’m not a sex offender, I’m a freelancing artist.”

Sighing, I collapsed on the bed, relishing the feeling of a sturdy mattress. I breathed a long sigh and stared up at the ceiling, trying not to fall asleep. He sat there, quietly, and I listened to our breaths. I breathed in when he breathed out, he breathed out when I breathed in. I tried synchronizing our breaths, so I would breathe in in the exact moment he breathed out, but in the end, I gave up because I was taking much shallower breaths than him. Maybe because I was so nervous.

We sat there like that for a while. He had lit a cancer stick again, and the thick smell of Marlboro Reds enclosed me, relaxing me and bringing me back to… Normal times. When our family was actually normal and nice. When the most hard-core my dad got was Advil, coffee and cigarettes. When I was regular.

I hadn’t realized I had fallen asleep until Mikey woke me up, shaking me awake. “Wake up. Your bed’s set up in the empty room.” he said, before escaping the disaster area that was Gerard’s room.

I stumbled into the room. It was small - a corner room, definitely. A small cot in the corner, along with a desk and a closet was there, and I shoved my backpack of clothes inside the closet, making a mental note to myself to load everything in the washing machine. Besides, I had a feeling I’d be here for a while.

I changed into the sweatpants and t-shirt I had left, and entered the living room. Gerard was eating on the island counter, Gerard’s mom was watching the TV and Mikey had probably escaped into his room. I sat down next to Gerard, looking in the bowl. Kraft Dinner - delish. “There’s some in the pot.” He told me through a mouthful, before returning to eating. There was already an empty bowl and a spoon ready, as if he knew I was going to eat, and I took it and spooned in some, before stabbing and shovelling in my mouth in the same fashion that Gerard was.

We returned to watching TV. Since noone in this house went to school, we all stayed up until 4 AM, watching bad sitcoms, comic shows (Gerard’s picks) and movie marathons. One by one, they were leaving - Gerard’s mom first, at around midnight, and Mikey at 1:30 AM. We were sitting there, on the couch, both half-dead-half-alive.

When I was about to get up, I suddenly realized that Gerard’s arm was on my shoulders. Why hadn’t I noticed before? I thought to myself, not bothering to lift it off but feeling self-conscious. We sat there like that, before suddenly, Gerard had sat rather closely to me. I didn’t feel bothered at all - I felt so… Weirdly calm, and assured there. Like nothing would go wrong. I never trusted anyone like this ever - not even my parents.

Yet… I trusted him.

Finally, it was around 3:30 AM. I was planning on going back to my room - when suddenly, Gerard pulled me closer to him. “Stay.” He mumbled, his eyelids half-closed - I could tell he was tired. I stayed there.

And we both fell asleep like that, perfect pictures in the light of the TV and morning sunlight.