I'm Not Okay Without You
Trying To Find Gerard
Chapter 27
Frankie’s POV
After hours of strumming, channel surfing, radio-channel surfing, strumming some more, writing down notes and lyrics, and falling asleep, the phone rang. I was snoring lightly, drooling a little as I dozed on the couch when the phone rang. I jumped up, wiping the drool from my face and answering the phone.
“Hello?” I asked groggily.
“Hey Frank,” Mikey said. Was he slurring…? “Can you come over?”
“Uh… sure, Mikes. What’s up?”
“Nothing really,” he answered, though his tone contradicted his words. He was obviously upset about something.
“Alright,” I replied, deciding not to question him. “When should I come over?”
“As soon as you can. I already called the other guys and they’ll be here in a little bit.”
“Kay. I’ll be over in a bit,” I said. “Hugs, Mikes.”
“Hugs Frankie.” I heard a little snap, telling me he had hung up. The “hugs” thing was a tradition in our band, but only Mikey and I really did it much.
‘Well, better get cleaned up,’ I thought, running my hand through my hair. I went up the stairs and into the bathroom.
“You look like shit,” I muttered to my reflection. Running my brush through my hair a couple times before styling it with my gel and putting on eyeliner, then went to my room to look for a shirt and pair of pants that smelled less funky. After what seemed like days I finally found a relatively clean Iron Maiden shirt and pair of pants I had stolen from Gerard [Shh, don’t tell him]. Finally I ran down the stairs, jumping the last two steps. I grabbed my jacket off the hook, made sure my car keys were in the pocket, slipped on my shoes, and headed out the door.
After about 10 minutes I got to Mikey’s house. There were four cars parked outside, so I figured the other guys were already there. I wandered in the door and walked into the living room where Mikey and the guys were… except Gerard. Where is he…?
“Kay, guys, I wanted to tell you this ‘cause it’s important,” Mikey started.
“Where’s Gerard?” I interrupted.
“He’ll be here later,” Mikey answered, “but right now he can’t handle what I’m about to tell you all.” I gulped slightly. Can’t handle? But what if Gerard went to a bar?!
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Bob asked, wanting to cut to the chase.
“Mine and Gerard’s grandma passed away this morning,” Mikey answered.
“What?!” I practically screamed. No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! This can’t happen! If I know Gerard he’ll want to get rid of this by drinking. Oh no. No, no, no. This is not good!
“Frank don’t get mad,” Mikey said quickly. “Gerard’s going to tell you when he gets the courage to. I wanted everyone to know so there are no secrets. And yes, I was a wreck this morning and now I don’t know about Gerard.”
“Where is he?” I growled, my voice low and dangerous.
“He’s at Ernie’s right now,” Mikes answered in a “don’t hurt me” voice.
“I’ll be back,” I said before practically sprinting out of the house and to my car.
I fumbled with my keys for what felt like hours before finally being able to put it in the ignition. ‘Damn it, Gerard! Why didn’t you tell me?!’ I kept screaming those eight words over and over in my head as I drove to the restaurant. When I finally got to Ernie’s, I parked by a red curb and ran into the bar, scanning the room for Gerard. He wasn’t in there. ‘Fuck,’ I thought, running into the bathroom and pushing open every stall door. Not in there, either. ‘Damn it!’ I ran back to my car, ignoring the ticket on my windshield and driving to my house.
“Gerard?!” I screamed, slamming the door open so hard it bounced back and almost hit me. “Gerard!” I called again. No answer. “Damn,” I said under my breath after having searching the house. That’s when an idea struck me. I had been gone from Mikey’s long enough; maybe he’d contacted one of the guys! It took forever for Mikey to pick up.
“Hello?” he asked shakily.
“Mikes!” I practically screamed into the phone. “Did Gerard call you?”
“Uh… no?” he said. I could tell he was lying.
“Yes he did. Where is he?” I growled. Mikey was just as bad as his brother; he always said “uh” when he was lying or was doing something he didn’t want other people involved in.
“You know I can’t tell you that, Frank. I have to give my brother some privacy.”
“Mikey, don’t be stupid! You know he has drug problems! You know when he gets depressed or stressed out he drowns it out by drinking! And you left him at that bar alone! Do you realize how sleazy that neighborhood is?! He probably got weed!” Mikey didn’t answer. “Look,” I said more calmly than before, “I need you to tell me what he told you. Please, Mikey. I want to help, but I can’t do that if I can’t find him. Please,” I begged.
“Okay…” Mikes answered, obviously scared Gerard would be mad. “Gerard said that he wanted me to have you stay with me and to make sure you weren’t alone. He said I needed to protect you from Ally. And…” Mikey choked off there.
“Mikey… please, whatever it is you can tell me. Hugs, remember? You’ll be my friend no matter what,” I reassured him. After all, we owned the “hugs” thing; it was a sign of our friendship.
“Alright,” he said, taking a breath. “Gerard said… he said he didn’t want to see you for a while.”
“What?!” I practically screamed into the earpiece. That stung. It felt like someone had ripped out my heart and then poured rubbing alcohol into the wound.
“Don’t take it that way, Frank,” Mikey said quickly, trying to make me feel better. “He said he didn’t want you to have to deal with him like this. Uh… while he’s depressed, I mean.” There’s that “uh” again.
“Mikes,” I said slowly. “Where’s Gerard?”
“He’s… I can’t tell you, Frank.”
“Yes you can! You have to, Mikey. Please,” I said, feeling tears sticking to my eyelashes.
“He’s home,” Mikes sighed.
“Thanks, Mikes,” I said, smiling into the phone. “Hugs,” I added.
“Hugs,” he whispered. I hung up and ran out to the car, putting the keys into the ignition and heading toward Gerard's house.
Frankie’s POV
After hours of strumming, channel surfing, radio-channel surfing, strumming some more, writing down notes and lyrics, and falling asleep, the phone rang. I was snoring lightly, drooling a little as I dozed on the couch when the phone rang. I jumped up, wiping the drool from my face and answering the phone.
“Hello?” I asked groggily.
“Hey Frank,” Mikey said. Was he slurring…? “Can you come over?”
“Uh… sure, Mikes. What’s up?”
“Nothing really,” he answered, though his tone contradicted his words. He was obviously upset about something.
“Alright,” I replied, deciding not to question him. “When should I come over?”
“As soon as you can. I already called the other guys and they’ll be here in a little bit.”
“Kay. I’ll be over in a bit,” I said. “Hugs, Mikes.”
“Hugs Frankie.” I heard a little snap, telling me he had hung up. The “hugs” thing was a tradition in our band, but only Mikey and I really did it much.
‘Well, better get cleaned up,’ I thought, running my hand through my hair. I went up the stairs and into the bathroom.
“You look like shit,” I muttered to my reflection. Running my brush through my hair a couple times before styling it with my gel and putting on eyeliner, then went to my room to look for a shirt and pair of pants that smelled less funky. After what seemed like days I finally found a relatively clean Iron Maiden shirt and pair of pants I had stolen from Gerard [Shh, don’t tell him]. Finally I ran down the stairs, jumping the last two steps. I grabbed my jacket off the hook, made sure my car keys were in the pocket, slipped on my shoes, and headed out the door.
After about 10 minutes I got to Mikey’s house. There were four cars parked outside, so I figured the other guys were already there. I wandered in the door and walked into the living room where Mikey and the guys were… except Gerard. Where is he…?
“Kay, guys, I wanted to tell you this ‘cause it’s important,” Mikey started.
“Where’s Gerard?” I interrupted.
“He’ll be here later,” Mikey answered, “but right now he can’t handle what I’m about to tell you all.” I gulped slightly. Can’t handle? But what if Gerard went to a bar?!
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Bob asked, wanting to cut to the chase.
“Mine and Gerard’s grandma passed away this morning,” Mikey answered.
“What?!” I practically screamed. No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! This can’t happen! If I know Gerard he’ll want to get rid of this by drinking. Oh no. No, no, no. This is not good!
“Frank don’t get mad,” Mikey said quickly. “Gerard’s going to tell you when he gets the courage to. I wanted everyone to know so there are no secrets. And yes, I was a wreck this morning and now I don’t know about Gerard.”
“Where is he?” I growled, my voice low and dangerous.
“He’s at Ernie’s right now,” Mikes answered in a “don’t hurt me” voice.
“I’ll be back,” I said before practically sprinting out of the house and to my car.
I fumbled with my keys for what felt like hours before finally being able to put it in the ignition. ‘Damn it, Gerard! Why didn’t you tell me?!’ I kept screaming those eight words over and over in my head as I drove to the restaurant. When I finally got to Ernie’s, I parked by a red curb and ran into the bar, scanning the room for Gerard. He wasn’t in there. ‘Fuck,’ I thought, running into the bathroom and pushing open every stall door. Not in there, either. ‘Damn it!’ I ran back to my car, ignoring the ticket on my windshield and driving to my house.
“Gerard?!” I screamed, slamming the door open so hard it bounced back and almost hit me. “Gerard!” I called again. No answer. “Damn,” I said under my breath after having searching the house. That’s when an idea struck me. I had been gone from Mikey’s long enough; maybe he’d contacted one of the guys! It took forever for Mikey to pick up.
“Hello?” he asked shakily.
“Mikes!” I practically screamed into the phone. “Did Gerard call you?”
“Uh… no?” he said. I could tell he was lying.
“Yes he did. Where is he?” I growled. Mikey was just as bad as his brother; he always said “uh” when he was lying or was doing something he didn’t want other people involved in.
“You know I can’t tell you that, Frank. I have to give my brother some privacy.”
“Mikey, don’t be stupid! You know he has drug problems! You know when he gets depressed or stressed out he drowns it out by drinking! And you left him at that bar alone! Do you realize how sleazy that neighborhood is?! He probably got weed!” Mikey didn’t answer. “Look,” I said more calmly than before, “I need you to tell me what he told you. Please, Mikey. I want to help, but I can’t do that if I can’t find him. Please,” I begged.
“Okay…” Mikes answered, obviously scared Gerard would be mad. “Gerard said that he wanted me to have you stay with me and to make sure you weren’t alone. He said I needed to protect you from Ally. And…” Mikey choked off there.
“Mikey… please, whatever it is you can tell me. Hugs, remember? You’ll be my friend no matter what,” I reassured him. After all, we owned the “hugs” thing; it was a sign of our friendship.
“Alright,” he said, taking a breath. “Gerard said… he said he didn’t want to see you for a while.”
“What?!” I practically screamed into the earpiece. That stung. It felt like someone had ripped out my heart and then poured rubbing alcohol into the wound.
“Don’t take it that way, Frank,” Mikey said quickly, trying to make me feel better. “He said he didn’t want you to have to deal with him like this. Uh… while he’s depressed, I mean.” There’s that “uh” again.
“Mikes,” I said slowly. “Where’s Gerard?”
“He’s… I can’t tell you, Frank.”
“Yes you can! You have to, Mikey. Please,” I said, feeling tears sticking to my eyelashes.
“He’s home,” Mikes sighed.
“Thanks, Mikes,” I said, smiling into the phone. “Hugs,” I added.
“Hugs,” he whispered. I hung up and ran out to the car, putting the keys into the ignition and heading toward Gerard's house.