Flip for Me
Sleeping with the Enemy
Gerard Way’s Point of View
“I wanna die!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Dear god I don’t remember anything last night! Did I really sleep with him? I don’t even remember getting home. Damn it. I'm never drinking again.
I pulled on some clothes quickly and put on a beanie and sunglasses. I walked outside and I was met with a horrid smell. I gagged and covered my nose, looking around for where it was coming from. My eyes landed on my beautiful flowerbed which was now covered in vomit. Okay—I actually remember doing that myself.
I practically ran to my car and drove to the nearest Starbucks by my house. I called Patrick while I was driving.
“Where were you last night? I called you eighteen times Gerard—eighteen times!” Patrick yelled. That’s not a very nice greeting.
“Look, I'm sorry, all right? I went to a movie and got a little too drunk. I’ll tell you everything if you meet me at Starbucks. I need someone to talk to. I need some fucking help here,” I said. I felt sick to my stomach. I just couldn’t have slept with Frank and not remembered it!
“Um, yeah, all right Gerard. I’ll see you in a few,” Patrick said.
We hung up and I focused on driving. My head was pounding, but it wasn’t unbearable. I could handle it; it just got annoying after a while.
By the time I made it to Starbucks, Patrick was already there and sitting at a table. I hurried to sit next to him, keeping my head down. Even if I wasn’t adored by millions like Frank, I still didn’t want to be recognized.
“So what’s up? And why do you look like shit?” Patrick asked, drinking whatever he ordered. My favorite drink was sitting in front of me. I took a sip of it and prepared myself to tell him.
“I apparently slept with Frank last night. After getting shitfaced, I begged him to come home with me and then we had sex. Well, that’s what Frank told me this morning. He only had like, one beer last night too, so he couldn’t have been drunk. Anyway, I woke up this morning and we were both practically freaking naked and his arm was wrapped around me. His arm! How could I have slept with that little fairy? He wears pink underwear for Christ’s sake!” I ranted.
Patrick looked at me wide eyed. He slowly took a drink of his coffee and cleared his throat.
“That’s some interesting news Gerard. I didn’t think you were one for one night stands, no matter how much of an idiot you tend to be. And now you’re sleeping with the enemy. You can't blame me when I say that I'm very disappointed in you.” He spoke in such a monotonous tone. His face was flat. I opened my mouth to speak, but he took one more look at me before bursting out laughing.
“What the hell?” I asked. When he started to snort, I lowered my head. People were looking at us oddly and I really didn’t want to be noticed. I always feel like I'm being watched when people recognize me. I blame it on being chubby as a child. School kids constantly mocked me because I was a little bit bigger than them.
“Gerard,” he said, out of breath and wheezing, “I think that’s the funniest thing that I've heard all day. I'm sorry, but the mental image, though it’s disturbing, of you and someone as flamboyant as Frank having sex is the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time. Oh god.”
He had a hand on his forehead. I glared at him and got up to leave. I needed to talk to Jessica. She was more like my therapist than anger management instructor. I heard Patrick calling after me, but I ignored him. It wasn’t funny; I could have some kind of STD now. Frank was popular, meaning he could probably have any guy he wanted whenever he wanted, which then meant that he could have every STD possible. I need to pay a nice little visit to my doctor in a few days.
“Gerard, come on!” Patrick yelled, still laughing as he tried to catch up with me. I turned to face him and ripped off my sunglasses—they were annoying me now.
“No! You clearly don’t care that I had sex with Frank, my number one freaking rival, so no! I’m going to make an appointment now and I’ll see you later,” I screamed.
People on the street were staring at me. I took off my glasses and now everybody could see who I was and if they knew me, then they knew Frank was my rival . . . which means they knew I had sex with him. Some people had phones out, probably recording what just happened. Others had cameras and camcorders. Seriously; who the fuck carries shit like that around with them on a regular day? I mean, I could picture them doing that if they’re favorite band was in town, but come on.
Patrick stared at me, slack jawed. My mouth was so far open I think I may have been drooling. Slowly, I got into my car and drove around town a few times. I needed to go on a vacation—to clear my head.
After I got bored with watching people, I went back home and fell asleep for a few hours. When I woke up, I got the surprise of my life. Damn the paparazzi. Damn them all to hell. Yes, even Maria Menounos.
“I wanna die!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Dear god I don’t remember anything last night! Did I really sleep with him? I don’t even remember getting home. Damn it. I'm never drinking again.
I pulled on some clothes quickly and put on a beanie and sunglasses. I walked outside and I was met with a horrid smell. I gagged and covered my nose, looking around for where it was coming from. My eyes landed on my beautiful flowerbed which was now covered in vomit. Okay—I actually remember doing that myself.
I practically ran to my car and drove to the nearest Starbucks by my house. I called Patrick while I was driving.
“Where were you last night? I called you eighteen times Gerard—eighteen times!” Patrick yelled. That’s not a very nice greeting.
“Look, I'm sorry, all right? I went to a movie and got a little too drunk. I’ll tell you everything if you meet me at Starbucks. I need someone to talk to. I need some fucking help here,” I said. I felt sick to my stomach. I just couldn’t have slept with Frank and not remembered it!
“Um, yeah, all right Gerard. I’ll see you in a few,” Patrick said.
We hung up and I focused on driving. My head was pounding, but it wasn’t unbearable. I could handle it; it just got annoying after a while.
By the time I made it to Starbucks, Patrick was already there and sitting at a table. I hurried to sit next to him, keeping my head down. Even if I wasn’t adored by millions like Frank, I still didn’t want to be recognized.
“So what’s up? And why do you look like shit?” Patrick asked, drinking whatever he ordered. My favorite drink was sitting in front of me. I took a sip of it and prepared myself to tell him.
“I apparently slept with Frank last night. After getting shitfaced, I begged him to come home with me and then we had sex. Well, that’s what Frank told me this morning. He only had like, one beer last night too, so he couldn’t have been drunk. Anyway, I woke up this morning and we were both practically freaking naked and his arm was wrapped around me. His arm! How could I have slept with that little fairy? He wears pink underwear for Christ’s sake!” I ranted.
Patrick looked at me wide eyed. He slowly took a drink of his coffee and cleared his throat.
“That’s some interesting news Gerard. I didn’t think you were one for one night stands, no matter how much of an idiot you tend to be. And now you’re sleeping with the enemy. You can't blame me when I say that I'm very disappointed in you.” He spoke in such a monotonous tone. His face was flat. I opened my mouth to speak, but he took one more look at me before bursting out laughing.
“What the hell?” I asked. When he started to snort, I lowered my head. People were looking at us oddly and I really didn’t want to be noticed. I always feel like I'm being watched when people recognize me. I blame it on being chubby as a child. School kids constantly mocked me because I was a little bit bigger than them.
“Gerard,” he said, out of breath and wheezing, “I think that’s the funniest thing that I've heard all day. I'm sorry, but the mental image, though it’s disturbing, of you and someone as flamboyant as Frank having sex is the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time. Oh god.”
He had a hand on his forehead. I glared at him and got up to leave. I needed to talk to Jessica. She was more like my therapist than anger management instructor. I heard Patrick calling after me, but I ignored him. It wasn’t funny; I could have some kind of STD now. Frank was popular, meaning he could probably have any guy he wanted whenever he wanted, which then meant that he could have every STD possible. I need to pay a nice little visit to my doctor in a few days.
“Gerard, come on!” Patrick yelled, still laughing as he tried to catch up with me. I turned to face him and ripped off my sunglasses—they were annoying me now.
“No! You clearly don’t care that I had sex with Frank, my number one freaking rival, so no! I’m going to make an appointment now and I’ll see you later,” I screamed.
People on the street were staring at me. I took off my glasses and now everybody could see who I was and if they knew me, then they knew Frank was my rival . . . which means they knew I had sex with him. Some people had phones out, probably recording what just happened. Others had cameras and camcorders. Seriously; who the fuck carries shit like that around with them on a regular day? I mean, I could picture them doing that if they’re favorite band was in town, but come on.
Patrick stared at me, slack jawed. My mouth was so far open I think I may have been drooling. Slowly, I got into my car and drove around town a few times. I needed to go on a vacation—to clear my head.
After I got bored with watching people, I went back home and fell asleep for a few hours. When I woke up, I got the surprise of my life. Damn the paparazzi. Damn them all to hell. Yes, even Maria Menounos.