My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

“Lindsey?” There was a voice, calling out my name on the other side of my door, “Lindsey, it's me, open up.”

I knew that voice. It was one I had gotten so accustomed to hearing over this tour. It nearly broke my heart, just hearing his voice, sounding so worried.

“Lindsey, Gerard told me you were acting weird at breakfast, and then I get back to my hotel room and there's a note telling me to come see you in your room. Is everything okay?”

I sighed and stood up to open the door. This was it. Time to confess. I had dreaded this moment for a long time, and I could dread it no longer.

I crossed the room and opened the door, telling Frank to follow me. I led him out onto the balcony, and sat down on one of the two plastic chairs that were out there. On the table was my empty wine bottle from last night. Just seeing it brought back memories of Frank's kisses. My heart began to throb.

Frank stood on the threshold between my balcony and my room, peering at me with concern.

“What's the matter?” He asked.

I gestured to the chair across from me and sighed when he sat down in it. I had no idea what I was going to say, but I had to start somewhere. My eyes brimmed with tears as I spoke.

“Frank, I'm going to talk for awhile.” I told him, “And I need you to listen, no matter how angry or sad or confused you get, okay? I need you to let me talk, and not interupt me.”

He nodded and I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“There is honestly no easy way to say this. And before I even tell you I want to say I'm so, so sorry.”

He nodded, looking confused, and I continued.

“A long time ago, when you asked me if I was single, I said yes. But... the thing is... I.. I also lied.”

Frank opened his mouth and I raised my hand to stop him, “You promised you wouldn't interupt.”

“I- I'm just going to come out and say it.” I gulped, closing my eyes. It was much easier to talk when I couldn't see Frank, staring so intently at me, “I lied about being single. I'm the farthest possible thing from being single. I'm getting married to somebody.”

The tears were slowly starting to leak from my closed eyelids, but I plowed on.

“I don't know why I lied. I was just so- so caught up in the moment and you that my mind drew a blank. And then later when I tried to correct my mistake, you wouldn't let me. So I fugured if I was rude and mean to you, my lie wouldn't matter. But then you asked me to be your girlfriend.”

I opened my eyes and my heart wrenched at the look of hurt and confusion etched onto Frank's once happy face.

“I couldn't say no without explaining why, so... I agreed.” I was now crying so hard it was difficult to talk, “And... and now that this tour is ending, I needed to tell you the truth. I'm so sorry.”

I wiped at my eyes with shaking hands. But no matter how many times I swiped my cheeks, the tears just kept pouring down.

“This... this is a joke, right?” Frank finally spoke, his voice hoarse, “You're joking.”

My answer was obvious by the way that I began crying harder, my shoulders shaking with the force of it all.

“How- why-” Frank was at a loss for words, “You're engaged?”

I nodded shakily and looked up fearfully at him. An expression of anger and hurt was on his face.

“You... you pretended to be my girlfriend while you knew you we're getting married?” For some reason, Frank was laughing, “You're getting married.”

I suddenly realized his laughter was bitter, and mocking. It was there to cover up the pain that I had just thrown at him.

“Frank-” I reached for his hand, “I-”

“No!” He stood up so fast that his chair tipped over, “No, don't- don't touch me!”

I drew my hand back fearfully as Frank breathed in shaky breaths.

“You... how could you do this to me?” He yelled, “How could you do that to your fiancé?”

I bit my lip and looked up at Frank. Just staring at his hurt face made my heart feel like it was being ripped apart, stomped on, stabbed, kicked, and being thrown painfully from my balcony.

“You-” Frank turned to look at me incredulosy, “I asked you to move in with me, and you- you knew that you never would. You've been playing me this whole tour.”

“No, Frank!” I cried, as he cast me a dirty look.

“Save it.” He growled, “Don't even... don't even try to fucking explain any of this.”

He glared at me with such hatred that I began sobbing. I fell onto my knees and cried into my hands as Frank looked down at me.

“Fuck you.” He finally spat out, with animosity and disgust carved into his every syllable.

And then he left.