Living Manhattan.
Hollywood for Broadway.
Gerard didn't often think about his life back in LA, it wasn't really because he didn't remember it, but because he didn't want to. He had traded in Hollywood for Broadway, huge malls for towering skyscrapers, but most painful of all, his family for freedom.
Six years ago, Gerard had told his father and younger brother that he was moving to Manhattan. And that was the last thing he had said to them in these six years. He didn't plan it that way, it just happened. No one knew how many hours he had spent sitting by the phone, waiting for a call he knew would never come. How many times he had checked the mail hoping to get a letter with an LA Postage Stamp on it, when all that really came was bills. The worst feeling of all was spending six years of your life not knowing whether your father is still alive, what he's up to, whether he's re-married. Not knowing if his brother was still in school, what career he's in, is he married now, too?
Looking back now, he wondered to himself why he didn't call, why he didn't send any letters. He tried making up excuses for himself: maybe they moved, maybe they changed their phone number, maybe they wouldn't even recognize his voice. But the truth was, he was just too scared to say anything, so he didn't say anything at all.
These were the thoughts running through his head when the bright light of the sun woke him up that morning. The sun may have been bright, but it was far from warm. Gerard struggled to remember what day it was. Because his work required him to memorize dates and times and days, he would often get mixed up. All he knew was that it was close to Winter, and after living there all this time, he still couldn't get used to the harsh winds and the layers of snow that his boots would drown in when he would walk to work.
Oh, work. After a bit of struggling with himself, he managed to pull himself out of bed and into the shower. Within a few minutes, he was ready.
When he first started living in New York, there was a lot of temperature adjusting to do. Sometimes he'd spend a whole 45 minutes in the shower because the moment he'd turn off the hot water, he'd freeze up. Thank God this wasn't the problem anymore.
Grabbing a heavy coat and a pair of thick gloves, he exited the door and was just about to walk out of the apartment building when he noticed a somehow familiar but forgotten face standing in the doorway. But after a moment of thinking, he realized who it was.
He saw the eyes of a father who seemed more like a stranger now, he had the face of a mother who he had never known, and it appeared as though he were looking into a mirror and seeing himself for the first time in his entire life.
It was Mikey.
Six years ago, Gerard had told his father and younger brother that he was moving to Manhattan. And that was the last thing he had said to them in these six years. He didn't plan it that way, it just happened. No one knew how many hours he had spent sitting by the phone, waiting for a call he knew would never come. How many times he had checked the mail hoping to get a letter with an LA Postage Stamp on it, when all that really came was bills. The worst feeling of all was spending six years of your life not knowing whether your father is still alive, what he's up to, whether he's re-married. Not knowing if his brother was still in school, what career he's in, is he married now, too?
Looking back now, he wondered to himself why he didn't call, why he didn't send any letters. He tried making up excuses for himself: maybe they moved, maybe they changed their phone number, maybe they wouldn't even recognize his voice. But the truth was, he was just too scared to say anything, so he didn't say anything at all.
These were the thoughts running through his head when the bright light of the sun woke him up that morning. The sun may have been bright, but it was far from warm. Gerard struggled to remember what day it was. Because his work required him to memorize dates and times and days, he would often get mixed up. All he knew was that it was close to Winter, and after living there all this time, he still couldn't get used to the harsh winds and the layers of snow that his boots would drown in when he would walk to work.
Oh, work. After a bit of struggling with himself, he managed to pull himself out of bed and into the shower. Within a few minutes, he was ready.
When he first started living in New York, there was a lot of temperature adjusting to do. Sometimes he'd spend a whole 45 minutes in the shower because the moment he'd turn off the hot water, he'd freeze up. Thank God this wasn't the problem anymore.
Grabbing a heavy coat and a pair of thick gloves, he exited the door and was just about to walk out of the apartment building when he noticed a somehow familiar but forgotten face standing in the doorway. But after a moment of thinking, he realized who it was.
He saw the eyes of a father who seemed more like a stranger now, he had the face of a mother who he had never known, and it appeared as though he were looking into a mirror and seeing himself for the first time in his entire life.
It was Mikey.