I Will Not Kiss You

Donna smiled at me when Gerard and I walked in through the front door and said ‘Oh, Frank, what a lovely surprise!’. I knew that meant she was happy to see me unless she was being polite but if she was being polite she would have said ‘Shouldn’t you be at home?’ as well. Or she could have said ‘Mikey’s not here’. But she didn’t, which meant she was happy to see me.

Gerard offered to hang my jacket up for me and asked if I wanted a coffee. So I gave him my jacket and said ‘I’d like a coffee very much, thank you’. And he let me watch him make it without sighing or saying I was getting in the way. I liked this.

He made the coffee’s and asked if it’d be ok if we went up into his room because his parents were expecting guests and I said ‘Ok’. So we went up into his room.

Gerard’s bedroom looked a lot cleaner than when I was in there last. He had picked up all the laundry and emptied his ashtray. His bed was made nice and neatly too. There was a tatty, faded teddy bear sitting on the corner by his pillow. When Gerard looked at me and saw me staring at it, he quickly walked over and hid it underneath his pillow.

"It's. . . erm. . . Sir. Edward Dickens Honeypot," He said, going red "I've had him since I was born."

"Are you embarrassed?"

"Erm. . . well. . . a little. . . grown men don't normally have teddies sitting on their beds."

"There's nothing wrong with having a teddy."

"Do you have one?"

"No. I don't understand why people get so attached to them when they're just a piece of fabric and stuffing sewn together."

"Yeah, I guess," Gerard replied, sitting on his bed and hitting the place next to him "But teddies don't hurt your feelings or say the wrong thing and hurt you even more. They're good for cuddle purposes."

"Do you cuddle your teddy?"

Gerard didn't say anything for a minute. He was going very red and staring at his lap. I repeated my question in case he hadn't heard me. He quietly said 'Sometimes' and tipped his head forward so that his hair fell into his face. I took a sip of the coffee he'd made for me. He was twiddling his thumbs with his hair blocking his face from view.

"It's just, like, y'know. . . I'm all on my own and, when I'm down, there's no one to hold me or for me to hold onto and. . . Sir. Honeypot's always there."

Then I said "You're not on your own. You have Mikey and your parents. . ."

I thought for a minute about what he'd said. He'd said 'There's no one to hold me or for me to hold onto'. Holding someone can mean embracing them lovingly. Before they started arguing, when I was little, Mom used to say 'Hold me' to Dad and Dad would wrap his arms around her in a hug.

"Do you mean that you don't have a boyfriend?"

"Um. . . yeah. I mean, I can talk to Mikey and my parents but sometimes you need someone a little closer to you than that. Do you understand that?"

"I think so. Do you mean that you'd sooner talk to a boyfriend about some things than talk to Mikey about them?"

"Yeah, exactly. Like, I'd sooner talk to a boyfriend about, say, how I feel like a useless failure and have him hold me and tell me it's not true because if I talk to Mikey about that kind of thing he'd worry about me and stuff."

I thought about what he'd said and watched him drink some of the coffee he'd made for himself. There was a loud gulping noise because he was drinking it quickly.

"Do you feel like a useless failure?"

He stopped drinking his coffee and put it down on his bedside cabinet.

"Sometimes," He replied quietly "Do you mind if I have a cigarette? I really need one at the moment."

"I don't have to have one, do I?"

"No. I'm not gonna' try and make you smoke if you don't want to. I'll open the window and stuff so you don't breathe it in."

"Ok."

So Gerard picked up a box of cigarettes and a lighter from his bedside cabinet. Then he got up and walked over to his window. As he moved, a glossy magazine slid down from under his pillow. The first thing I noticed was the bent top right corner and then I saw the picture of a man on the front. There were some captions on it as well, which said things like 'This seasons top sexiest males'. I jumped as Gerard snatched it up quickly and walked over to his desk and put it in the top drawer. He still had a cigarette in between his lips and he didn't take it out at all.

"Private stuff," He stated, going pink across his cheeks "Mikey calls it my 'fag mag'." He added, giving a funny 'haha' that didn't really sound like he was laughing.

And then he took his cigarette out of his mouth and held it between his forefinger and thumb while he breathed the smoke out.

"Why do you feel like a useless failure sometimes?"

He inhaled some more smoke and closed his eyes as he exhaled it again before he walked over and sat on the bed again. I drank some more coffee.

"Because I'm an art school drop-out, I can't have a boyfriend without him cheating on me or leaving me after a few months, I can't get a job better than serving up coffee all day 'cause I've got no real qualifications. . ."

I didn't know what 'cheating' was but I guessed it was something bad. Gerard looked very sad after he'd said that and quietly smoked his cigarette some more. And then one tear rolled down his cheek.

"Are you sad?"

"Thinking about it makes me feel depressed."

"Then you should go to a doctor and get some pills so that you don't get sadder and then do self-harm or suicide."

"I don't have depression, I just feel depressed when I think about it."

"Oh."

And then Gerard's phone started to ring. He fumbled through his pockets until he found it and answered it, putting his cigarette back in between his lips and talking with it in his mouth.

"Yeah? - Oh, hey, Mikes, how'd it go? - Good - Uh huh - Ok, I'll be there in. . . ten/fifteen minutes - Ok, oh guess who's here! - Guess - Nope - It's not that hard - Use that thing you have in there called a brain. . ."

He rolled his eyes and asked if I wanted to talk on the phone. So I nodded and said 'Yes please'. And he handed me the phone.

"Hello, Mikey."

"Hey, Frankie, what are you doing with Gee?"

"I had an argument with Dad and I tried to phone you but I'd forgotten you were at work."

"Ah."

"Was work good?"

"Yeah it was great. Except a hamster bit me when I picked it up to try and clean its crap up."

"Oh dear."

"Yeah and my finger started bleeding," He continued "I was really tempted to dump it in the big bag I was scooping the poop into and let it get burnt."

"But that's cruel."

"I was kidding. I wouldn't hurt an animal!"

"Good."

And then Gerard said we should get going so I said goodbye to Mikey and said I'd see him soon. And he said goodbye and that he'd be waiting in the restaurant for us.