Forget Me Not

Gerard couldn’t help but grin as he caught site of his desktop background after closing all of the windows he’d previously been using on his computer, so he could shut it down and go home for the night.

The picture was a recent one of himself and his fiancé, Frank. It’d only been taken a couple of weeks back after a round of particularly fantastic morning sex (Frank was known to grab at a camera at the most random and sometimes even inconvenient of times.) The pair look sweaty and worn out, but there’s a glow about them which is what makes the picture so beautiful and that’s what Gerard loves so much about it.

He reached out and softly stroked the pixelated face of his boyfriend with the back of his knuckles, whispering sweetly, “Just one more week, gorgeous.”

Logging out of his account, and shutting the machine down, he picked up his bag and the portfolio of an artist who was hoping to get a show of his work in the gallery that Gerard owned, and left through the door of his office, nodding over at his receptionist.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” he smiled.

“Yeah, I know, but there’s gonna be a large workload after you leave for two weeks next week,” she smirked. “So, I’ve gotta get all of this done now in preparation.”

Gerard grinned at her, and said his farewells before walking out to his car, pulling his phone out of his pocket and hitting speed dial one as he started up the engine and pulled out onto the main road, plugging his seat belt in.

“Hello?” A beautifully familiar voice answered.

“Hey good lookin’,” Gerard grinned. “What’cha got cookin’?”

“Nothing yet,” Frank giggled. “I was actually just looking in the fridge to see what we had.”

“And?”

“Fuck all.”

The two shared a laugh as Gerard stopped outside a pizza place, looking in to see how busy it was. “Well, I’m outside the pizza take-away place right now. I can just duck inside and get something if you want?”

“No way, by the time you get back it’ll be cold.” Frank said with the assumption that Gerard was walking. Frank walked to work every day, and his work place was considerably further than Gerards.

“No, it’s cool; I’ve got the car.”

“Gerard!” Frank laughed. “It takes five minutes to walk home from your gallery.”

“Yeah, well it takes two with the car, and I can get pizza. So, what do you want?”

“You’re so lazy! I swear, when we’re married, we’re having words about your usage of the car.” And Gerard just couldn’t help but grin with glee at the use of the word ‘married’. “The veggie one that I always have, please.”

“As you wish. I won’t be long, love you.”

“I love you too.”

Gerard kept the phone to his ear as he walked towards the take-out desk, only removing it once he’d heard the click that signalled that Frank had hung up.

The pizzas didn’t take too long and Gerard was back in his car, sitting the pizza boxes on the passenger seat. He smiled as he relayed in his mind what would most likely happen when he got home, which should be in less than a minute.

Images of Frank and himself sitting on the ratty old sofa - given to them by his grandmother when they first moved into their apartment together, and had no furniture whatsoever – eating pizza, most likely with Franks back leant against the armrest, his legs on Gerards lap, and Gerards box of pizza on Frank’s legs as they watched a movie together; It was Franks choice tonight, so no doubt one of those 80’s horrors with the awful special effects. This was something they’d become accustomed to on a relaxed evening in, something Gerard could see himself doing in fifty years time.

All thoughts of his cosy domestic life were pushed straight out of his mind when the sound of car tyres came screeching from a direction he couldn’t figure out. Panicked, his eyes darted from the rear-view mirror to each wing-mirror in an attempt to find whatever it was that he needed to avoid.

By the time he saw the large black car, it was too late.

The noise he heard then was one you only ever hear in a movie: Tires screeching, car horns, a woman screaming and shattering glass.

He didn’t know when he ended up on the road, something sticky and red in colour on the tarmac by his right eye. Something sticky and red in colour...everywhere.

He could smell smoke, smoke and tarmac. He could hear screaming, it sounded miles and miles away, and it made him wonder how widespread the commotion was, but soon enough he realised that it was him. He was screaming. Crying.

Begging.

He didn’t know how he was managing to scream for so long, because he'd forgotten how to breathe, the sensation of oxygen in his lungs seemed almost alien and impossible, almost painful to attempt.

He could feel hands on his face, on his entire body, someone took something from his pocket, but he couldn’t see what it was, he didn’t remember what was in his pockets to begin with. He could hear people talking and he could see bright flashing lights, but not much else, everything was blurred, like watercolours spilt carelessly around a blank canvas.

He was clutching his head as it throbbed and pulsed, and he almost felt as though his eyeballs were being pushed through his skull, and he just kept screaming.

Screaming because it hurt. Screaming because he didn't understand. Screaming because he thought it might lead to some epiphany that would give him a clue, a signal, a sign to how to get away from this pain, this hurt.

Inside his head, it was almost like he was hanging from a cliff. He knew that he just had to hold on and not let go, but the longer he held on, the worse the pain felt. The more it intensified until it was all consuming and he couldn’t bear it anymore. He could see Franks face over the verge, and he could hear voices, voices he didn’t recognise telling him to ‘hang on’ and that ‘it’ll be okay’.

But it wasn’t okay. He felt as though he was being stretched like an elastic band, and if he didn’t let go he was going to snap with the pressure that he was feeling throughout his entire body. His fingers were slipping on the rocks, the dirt being pushed into his fingernails but still not providing enough grip.

He couldn’t fight it anymore, it was just too much to bear.

So he let go.