Demolition Lovers

"Gerard Arthur Way, this is final. You either get a job and live here, or you move out."

Donna put the milk carton back in the fridge, and shut the door with a firm slam. I flinched - a customary reaction, it seemed, to loud noises, ever since the suicidal attacks on September 11th. People were referring to it as 9/11 already.

Sometimes, I wished I was on that plane.

Gerard's arm tightened around my shoulders, and I flinched away from his protective hold. I knew he only did it to keep me from falling apart, but lately; it seemed I couldn't trust anyone.

Gerard sighed. "Mom, I hope you realize that I graduated an art school. I am a hermit, mother. I don't... Go out."

"Not true. You went out a few weeks ago and brought home Ella." She looked at me, flinching away from Gerard, and sighed. "And I suppose it would do you good to get out of the house." She tut-tut'ed, wiping down the Formica-topped island counter. I watched each movement - slow, swishing motions that got quicker and quicker with each movement, just like the planes. I shuddered, and looked away.

Just then, Mikey moved in on our discussion, patting me reassuringly on the back. I flinched again, but this time only slightly. "You know, Barnes and Nobles always wants cashiers. Our oldest one left 'cause she's retiring." He commented, picking up an orange from the bowl of fruit.

"Then it's final. Gerard, you're working at Barnes and Nobles."

"Mom, I haven't even put in a resume."

"Who wants a resume from a cashier? All they want to know is that you can memorize a few numbers." Mikey piped in, and Gerard elbowed his brother in the side. He didn't have to, however, because Donna immediately cut in, "Gerard, you will work there. Ella, I'd feel better if you went with Gerard. You could use some time outside."

She was right, of course. I hadn't changed out of my sweatpants and t-shirt since September 11th.

A few days later, I got into Gerard's crapmobile yet again, and we were off to Barnes and Nobles. A little coffee shop next door was inside the building, and I picked out a book, mulling over it with a hot chocolate. The sweet caffeine was a bit unexpected after days and days of Folgers Crystals coffee, but in a good way as I sipped the sweet liquid, Gerard looking on in envy.

After the coffee and the rather interesting book, I decided to help Mikey a little, as he was a bit.... accident prone, to say the least. I started carrying some of the books, and Mikey promised me a late lunch for my servitude.

I didn't want it, but I nodded, carrying the books with him. We were re-shelving misplaced books, and Mikey frowned at a children's dictionary in the adult's health section, before halting to a stop.

I didn't realize this, ran into Mikey's back, and fell on my ass, dropping the books in the process.

Mikey stifled a laugh, helping me up on my feet. My tiny frame was pulled up by Mikey's lanky body, and I sighed, looking at the books everywhere.

"Sorry." I mumbled, starting to pick up the books. Mikey bent down to help me, and immediately stared at one of the books. I was almost done picking up the books, when Mikey stopped me. "Chemical Romance. How come nobody started a band called Chemical Romance?"

I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Chemical Romance... Gerard, where are you..." Mikey took off, clutching onto the book.

Sighing, I held onto the pile of books I had already and followed Mikey reluctantly.

When we found Gee, he was standing around and looking bored. Spotting Mikey and I, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, he looked at Mikey. "This had better be some fuckin' important shit."

"Dude, look at the title." he said, whipping out the book. It was called Ecstasy - Three Tales of Chemical Romance by some guy named Irvine Welsh.

Gerard stared at the title. "How come nobody's started a band called Chemical Romance?"

"There's a band called The Chemical Brothers."

"But dude, Chemical Romance sounds so much more... wicked. It would sound like, I don't know, Morrissey meets the Misfits or something."

"Yeah, we gotta make a band like that!"

I sighed. "Mikey. Remember. I'm five-four and carrying a pile of books almost one-three."

Mikey turned around to face me, as if he had just remembered I was standing there. "Sorry," he apologized, taking the pile of books from me.

I sighed. "If Gerard's done, I want lunch."

"I told you, I'm buying lunch, and I'm not done until around two." Mikey complained, frowning.

"It's two thirty, retard."

"I want more money so we can go someplace else than McDonald's. Besides, she-" he pointed over to the manager - "doesn't complain."

I rolled my eyes. "It doesn't change the fact I'm hungry."

Gerard sighed and pulled a worn wallet from the back pocket of his dirty jeans, pulling out a ten-dollar bill. "If you buy me a coffee and a muffin, you can have a goddamned cookie. Now will the two of you, please shut up and go away so I can work?"

I took the bill sullenly, and stomped off. I was getting a little less than annoyed. I. Am not. A slave. Kthnx.

However, what I saw at the counter made me freeze over, my limbs turning into mush and lead blocks at the same time.

Three men, in perfectly ironed suits stood at the counter - one in a grey pinstripe suit with a black tie, one in a navy blue suit and red tie, one in a black suit and silver tie. They all wore fedora hats, and my heart had stopped. Not because they were so handsome. Because they were after me.

My blood, to be exact.

I had managed to back up two steps before they spotted me. The navy-blue suited man smiled, but I knew from experience that that smile meant he wanted something. And he wasn't going to stop.

Ruthless. Cruel. Inhuman. Those three words were chanting in my head, louder and louder, as he crooked his index finger towards himself. I knew the command all too well - Get here. Now.

I shakily drew a breath, and slowly walked towards the three. Don't cause a scene, I reminded myself, counting the steps I took towards the three. When I reached them, they all smiled.

"Ah, Eloise! Lovely to see you." The pinstripe-suit said with a distinctly thick Italian accent, smiling and patting me on the back while I grimaced. Nobody called me Eloise. It was Ella.

"It has been such a long time, Eloise. Tell me. How is your family doing?" The navy blue suit asked, and I felt my expression crumble.

"I haven't seen them in a long time, Anthony - maybe you could tell me." I said stiffly, my shoulders freezing up when I felt the fat fingers of the navy-blue suit draped on my shoulder.

"Your ma and pa, and that sister of yours are doing good. They've all gone up north, yeah? Your pa stopped snortin' up the white crap. Ma and Sis are real proud'a him." A cruel, harsh laughter came from the three that seemed to encircle me now, making my five-foot-four-inches frame shrink, my fists balled up, but my feet, unfortunately, were rooted to the ground.

"Hey!" A sudden voice called out from the other side, making me wonder how long I had been standing there while they laughed at me. Looking up, I saw Gerard cross the room in an easy, relaxed manner, his expression crumpling when he saw the three suited men standing by me, shooting him cut-throat glares.

When Gee caught up, he smiled politely while wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I pushed myself into his grip, my face buried in his chest. I could hear his voice. "Gentlemen, if you'd please." Gerard said in a rather clipped tone. I hadn't heard him use that tone before, and I shrank further into his chest.

"She owes us." The thick accent had gotten thicker, a sign of aggravation. I hid my face, cowering now.

I heard Gerard grunt and reach for his wallet - I tried to stop him, but it was useless as he shook my hand off and peeled off a few bills. I peeked from my hiding place - a few twenties. It wouldn't even make a dent. He shoved it at them, and they took it.

"You're about ten thousand nine hundred short." The thicker-accented man said, and I felt myself flinch. Shit. He couldn't know. Nobody could know. If anyone found out... I was done.

They laughed harshly again. "You have no fuckin' clue, boy. Do you? She - " I felt the mouth-end of the cigar on my back and flinched - "owes us cash. Her pa snorts the shit, and they decided that they'd pay off the debt by 'donatin' their bodies."

I felt waves of unconsciousness roll over me, like thick blankets of black fog. Shit. I couldn't faint. Not now.

Gerard seemed to stiffen. I felt myself hold my breath, although I wasn't sure why. "Leave, please. Now." Gerard said in a tone that reflected nothing, a monotone. I bit my lip, hard, willing them to leave. Please.

"How sweet. Drug addict's daughter with chain-smoker."

The last thing I heard before dropping to the ground was someone's fist connecting with a loud 'snap'.