You Promised

“Hey Frankie. How are you?” Quinn asked sitting on the bed next to me.
“I’m great. You didn’t need to come.” I bet he had better things to do than take care of me. I would do well alone. I’ll probably fall asleep, I’m really tired.
“I don’t mind. I don’t really have a life apart from my band and your band.” He said shrugging. “Do you need anything?”
“No. I’m just tired.” I said yawning. He yawned too and we laughed.
“That’s shit is contagious.” He said pointing a finger at me. I nodded and closed my eyes. It didn’t take long until I feel asleep.

I opened my eyes slowly. I still don’t understand how someone can wake up tired, but I did. Like, if your body is tired, why didn’t it just slept longer?
“Sorry did I wake you?” I looked at my side to see Quinn lying next to me. He looked like he had just waked up too, mostly because he had bed hair.
“I don’t know, probably.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, thanks.” He’s as over protective as my mother.
“Aren’t you hungry?” He asked surprised. I felt my stomach groaning at the thought of food.
“Yeah. I’m hungry.”
“Do you want me to make you some soup?” I raised my eyebrows.
“You might as well dress like a nurse.”
“What? Doesn’t it like, makes it easier for you to eat?” I ask myself when the last time he was around sick people was. Probably when he was sick.
“Yeah, but I still can move my mouth pretty well.” I said rolling my eyes. He smirked.
“Are you suggesting something?” He asked arching his eyebrows suggestively.
“Now, I know what Vincent means when he says I’m unbearable today. I guess for a straight man having a gay man making jokes about the straight and the gay man is the same as a gay man having a straight man making those same jokes.”
“What do you mean, straight? Didn’t Vincent tell you?” He asked me seriously.
“No. What didn’t he tell me?” He got me curious now. Is Vincent like, gay or something? He’s dating a girl, that doesn’t make much sense. Maybe he lied to me. That wouldn’t be nice since I told him the truth.

“I’m not straight.”
“You’re not?”
“No, what gave you that idea?” He asked as if it was the dumbest thing ever. Maybe it was.
“Sincerely, I have no idea… You’re gayer that I am.” I laughed.
“I guess…”He said. “But you never told me what you wanted to eat.”
“You know… I’m craving some soup right now.” I said bursting into laugher, Quinn following.

“Here you’ve got it.” He said giving me a bowl of soup. “Want me to feed you?” He asked in a tone that was so sweet it could only be a joke.
“I can use my hand perfectly too.”
“And I repeat, are you suggesting something?”
“I’m sick and I have a fever and you’re the one that’s delirious. You wish.” I said pointing the spoon at him.
“What are you doing? Attacking me with a spoon?” He asked raising his hand in the air trembling, obviously faking fear.
“You’d surprised with what I can do with a spoon.” I said. “Ah! You can’t sexify that bitch!” He laughed and lied next to me.
“Sexify is not a word.”
“I’m Frank Fucking Iero I don-”

“Wasn’t it Mikey fuckin’ Way?” He asked cutting me off. “Oh, I got it! It was Gerard fucking Frankie!” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Don’t you read fan fiction?” He asked as if I had just told him I didn’t know what internet was.
“Hum… no.”
“You should.”
“Why?” What can be good about reading the fans deepest fantasies about you and your band mates?
“It’s pretty fun. You know, once I read this story about me and Bert. And I was like, I so wouldn’t fuck Bert.” I totally needed to know that. Don’t you agree?
“It’s nice to know.”
“I’m serious. That shit is fucking hilarious! You don’t happen to know where Vincent keeps his lap top, do you?”
“I won’t tell you. I really don’t want to read that shit. I’m sick; I don’t need to be even more.”
“Do you at least know what Frerard is?”
“Hum… Duh.” I knew for a fact it was about my relationship with Gerard. Do the fans, like read minds?
“Frikey?”
“Do I wanna know?”
“Frank and Mikey, and then there’s Waycets and-.”
“Don’t tell me what that is! Please, I’m begging.” I had a slight idea of what it was and I really don’t want to be sure.

“Okay.” He said. That was too easy. “I think we should measure your fever now.” He said getting up. He came back later with the thermometer and put it in my mouth. At least he was gentle, not like Vincent, he just stuck it up in my mouth to make me shut up. He took the empty bowl downstairs and when he came back he took the thermometer from my mouth. “You’re good, it wore off. You’re 37 now.”
“It must be the pills. Do you know when Vincent will be home?”
“I’m not even sure he’ll be home.” I nodded.
“I need to use the bathroom.” I said.
“Want me to carry you?” He asked smiling.
“I’ll give you that honour.” I said offering my hand to him. He took it and pushed me up when I was standing he just picked me up bridal style without warning. I just giggled the whole way. If I didn’t had such a good control of my bladder I would have pissed myself.

After walking for the first time since the morning back to the room the phone rang. I was feeling better so I went to pick it up. It was Vincent.
“Hey, I’m just making sure you guys are okay.”
“We’re good. I’m feeling better, the fever has worn off.”
“You should be on bed still, you know?”
“You’re really sounding like my mother.” I told him. Talking about mother, how long was it since I’ve seen my mother? I don’t even remember what’s my mothers name. I need to go visit her, but I changed my mind as Gerard words filled my mind.

“You’re a faggot! Why do you think no one talked about your parents? They hate you!”

“Frank! Are you there?”
“What time are you coming home?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but it will be late. Ask Quinn if he can stay the night.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”

“Quinn!” I screamed. He came running into the living room.
“Something’s wrong?” He asked. I guess I look bad. I need to be sure my mother doesn’t hate me before I visit her. I shook my head.
“Vincent’s gonna be late, you’re staying the night?”
“Sure.”

I had been sleeping almost all day, so I wasn’t sure about what time it was when we went to bed, or what time it was when we ate dinner, if you can call it dinner. Note to self, never let Quinn cook again.
“Do you snore?” He asked me randomly while we were lying on my bed. I was trying to sleep, Quinn was trying to keep me from doing so, it seemed.
“I don’t know.” I murmured and turned around so he was facing my back.
“I hope not. You know Jeph?”
“No, I don’t know Jeph. I lost my memory forgot?” I asked. I was starting to get bitchy. He won’t shut up and I need to sleep. The headache is starting to comeback.
“Jeph Howard, he plays bass in The used. He snores like crazy, it’s scary and we like had to make him sleep in the couch sometimes because we were so tired and he wouldn’t let us sleep.” He rambled. He was pissing me off. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths.
“Quinn, let me sleep please.” I asked nicely.
“Sorry, it’s just I slept during the afternoon and I’m not tired anymore. Also I might have had coffee.”
“I’m fucked.” I whispered turning around again.

I think he understood my side because he shut up. I looked up at him, he was sitting on the bed looking at the ceiling. I hope he stays like that until I fall a sleep. I closed my eyes again only to open then minutes later again, when I felt something on my hair. Quinn was playing with it.
“What are you doing?” I asked, this time I was too tired to be bitchy.
“Sorry, does it bother you?” He asked stopping. I missed the movement. It felt good and the headache was wearing off.
“No, it feels good.”
I felt a sleep not long after.