I'm the Kind of Human Wreckage That You Love.

The next week was one of the most bizarre seven days of my life. Gerard and I went through all the motions of a regular week without saying one word to each other. I went in to Urgent Care at some hospital, just to avoid any infection. They bandaged me properly and suggested I wear a brace to help me maneuver easier. All we ever did was graze hands passing things to each other and catch the other in an awkward glance.

Seven days later I was struggling trying to re-bandage myself and slide my brace back on. Gerard silently came up to me and helped. He gingerly wrapped the gauze around my palm and wrist. When I winced in pain he looked up at me with sympathetic, smiling eyes. There was no way I was going to be the one to break our vow of silence and I thought he was going to do so right now. I looked at him patiently expecting him to say something, but after he finished he lightly let go of my hand and poured himself a bowl of cereal.

I was amazed at how he continuously amazed me. Just when I thought I had him figured out, he would surprise me. If nothing else, our relationship was bewildering and unexpected. I learned to accept his ability to stupefy me. After he sat on the couch, I joined him and turned on the TV.

“We can’t find a manager... you know, that everybody likes?” He told me out of the blue over his dinner of Cheerios sitting on the couch next to me.

All I could think was, ‘Godammit, Gerard! Why must you continue to astonish me?! And at the most inopportune moments, too.

“Who have you talked to?’ I asked about the potential managers, trying to sound casual and not scare him off.

“This one guy, Nick. He was really funny, but he seems too critical. Not in the good way, though, like you.” He chewed his cereal and turned to look at me.

I returned the gaze. His eyes maintained locked on me while he slowly put his bowl of cereal on the ground. Leaning in and reaching out to touch my face, his movements were awkward, like it was our first time. I fiddled with the bandage on my hand, but kept my eyes on him. He finally reached me and pulled me into a kiss. A very slow kiss. I was just going along with it, but I got nervous that he was nervous and had to remind him we’ve done this dozens of time before. I threw my arms around his neck and sped up the kiss, but he broke away and looked at me. He was smiling, looking at my lips then to my eyes, and pushing my hair behind my ears. He started the kiss again, slowly, excruciatingly slow. But as the kiss went on, I began to enjoy it. First he would suck on my lower lip, then the upper. Then he would lick my gums and the roof of my mouth. And then he would pull his tongue out of my mouth completely and just kiss me simply, but then return it and start up again.

He must have been envisioning how we would do this since we stopped doing this.

We stood up together and, slowly, made our way to my bedroom.

A few hours later I woke up and he had been watching me sleep. All I could do was smile. How were we so fucked up yet so perfect at the same time? I decided not to dwell on it and just be happy where we were right now. The fact that I constantly tried to stay content in my current situation had always saved me, saved us.

We just stared at each other lost in our own personal thoughts when the phone rang. The message machine turned on, and it was Frankie. Gerard looked over to our closed door and tried to hear what he was saying. I wasn’t concerned.

“So, you need a manager, huh? I can help you find someone.” I told him.

He looked back to me and pushed my hair behind my ear. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

I nodded my head with a sly smile. The boys wanted to tour, I knew that. You can always feel when a band really gets bitten by the performance bug because they can’t get enough time onstage. All this power comes to them and they like it. It gets to this point where they’ll play anywhere, anytime, to anybody. We had to find a good tour, and fast. A new van was also something the boys would need. Touring is usually what makes or breaks a band. If they can’t put up with a strenuous tour, they can’t make it. Our boys would be gettin’ down and dirty...
...but that’s how we like ‘em.

“So, what did Frank say? I wasn’t listening.” I asked Gerard after I got up and pulled on some sweats.

“He was wondering about the manager thing, too. He still thought that...you, know, you didn’t know about it.”

“Right.” I could hear how he was hinting at the fact we hadn’t been talking to each other.

“So who did you have in mind? Would I know about him at all?”

“No, I don’t think so. His name’s Buddy. Well, everyone calls him Buddy, his real name is Oliver Evans. He has a bunch of connections all over the place. He’s kinda like a slut. Yeah, a male, information-carrying, band slut.” I giggled to myself.

“Really? He’s not a douchebag, is he? People named Buddy tend to be douchebags.”

“Are you kidding? He’s. like, Duke of the Douches,” I informed Gerard, in a Frank-deadpan way, “But, the kid can get a band a dozen shows anywhere. He’s completely trustworthy, but he’ll never stay loyal or exclusive to any one band. Hence his “s l u t” status.”

“Well if you like ‘em, I like ‘em.”

“I’ll call him later today. I’m gonna have to head into work pretty soon, anyway.”

“Really? You have to?” Gerard sweetly whined.

“Yes, because until you start regularly playing shows and selling some records, I’m the only money you got!” I lovingly told him with a quick kiss.

“You really think we’re gonna start making some money?”

I snorted, “No...,” He looked kind of mad, so I went over to him and sat on his lap, “Well, certainly not right away, but eventually, definitely.”

“And if you lose your job, you can always come with us on tour and we can sell your body on the street corner.”

I pushed him and gasped overdramatically.

“Don’t worry you’ll have a partner, we’ll sell off Mikey, too!” He joked some more with a convincing smile.

I slowly slapped him, “Hey, FUCK you.”

“No, you fuck them.” He returned shaking his head.

“Don’t make me bitchslap you, dick.” I warned, laughing.

I got off him and sarcastically huffed into my room. Grabbing my bag and car keys, I headed for the door and then to work.

“Wait... Don’t go.” Gerard pleaded innocently.

“Babe, I have to go,” He looked really bummed, “But maybe, you can come with me.... I’ll pretend you’re there ‘on business’!”

“You think so?” He asked.

“Sure! And then when we get home we can finish your ‘fuck me’ painting.” I sneakily added.

He smiled and looked a little embarrassed. He looked so cute when he got embarrassed.

We walked out to the car and I caught him looking at my ass.

“Hey! Cut it out, I know I look like shit.” I directed.

“What are you talking about? You look so fucking hot in your sweats...” He said, as if to himself. Then he looked up at me like he had accidentally spilled a secret.

“Oh, a funny guy, huh?”

“I’m totally serious! You really do! I’ve never seen anyone make black Adidas track pants and a black hoodie look so damn good.”

“You and Frank really have been spending too much time together.” I said, Frank always told me that bullshit, too.

“We both think so.”

“You talk about me in sweats together?! God, what have I done?!”

“Oh, shut up. We just like stating facts when we get bored.”

I rolled my eyes and sped away in Eyeball’s direction.

We got there and I quietly slipped Gerard into my office.

“So, this is where all the magic happens?” Gerard asked, looking around the room with his arms folded.

“Yep. Right here. I was sitting right here when me and Geoff called you and Frank,” I sat in my chair and put my hands on the desk.

“Oh, by the way, Frank told me you called him first? What’s up with that?”

“Baby, sorry, but I’ve just been programed to call him first when things like that happen.”

He glared at me, “Okay... I GUESS,” but he couldn’t stop his smile.

There was a sudden knock on the door and Natalie opened it and came casually in, looking down at some papers.

“Finally Katmandu, I’ve been waiting for you-” She walked right into Gerard, “Oh, shit. Hi.”

“Hey, Nat, you know Gerard.” I re-introduced them.

“He’s friendlier than I remember.” She jested.

Gerard laughed self-consciously.

“What were you saying?” I reminded her, knowing she would forget if I started talking about anything else.

“Oh! Right, the guys are flying in the day after tommorrow.”

“Wow, that soon, huh?”

“Yeah, so I brought some stuff for us to work on. But, anyway... why are we having a little field trip today?” She asked Gerard.

“Um, I don’t know why, just because I can, I guess. She told me to come.” He answered pointing to me.

“Yeah, I did. I wanted him to be in on what I do. Give him a taste of some behind the scenes action, ya know?”

“Cool. It’s not that exciting, actually...”

“Shhh! He doesn’t know that yet,” I hushed Nat, “She doesn’t know what she talking about she works in the mailroom-”

“You know what, Katmandu-”

“Wait a second. You keep calling her that, Katmandu. What the hell does it mean?” Gerard interrupted our little dispute.

Natalie looked at me, “He doesn’t call you that, too?”

“No! No one calls me that. No one except you. I keep trying to tell you.” I reprimanded her.

“Oh! Well, it’s a good story, really-”

“No! Stop!” I ran over to her and covered her mouth.

“Babe, stop, I wanna know,” Gerard tried to pull me over to him so Nat could continue, but I resisted, “Come on! You got to hear about me being Peter Pan!”

He won. I walked over to my desk, dreading this stupid story.

“Okay...,” Nat sat on a counter across from my desk and Gerard pulled me out of my chair, took a seat, and pulled me on to his lap.

“...when we first got here, we rented out this place in Bakersville. And our friends would drive us around to places they thought we’d like. Bars, and restaurants and diners, and stuff, in Trenton. One place they were pretty excited about taking us was this restaurant/bar thing called... drumroll... Katmandu.”

“Ah.” Gerard said in realization.

I was massaging my temples, and Gerard started rubbing my back.

“Go on.” He requested, finding humor in my headache.

“We’ll we got there and it was kind of boring. I think it was like a Thursday, or something. So, our friend here." She motioned to me, "decided to spice things up. She started ordering every drink she had never tried before and was determined to drink the whole thing. Needless to say, she got wasted, just completely shitfaced,” Nat was cracking up and so was Gerard, “Everybody in there was her friend... She downed half the bar and all we could do was look on and laugh. Didn’t you even.. you know...”

“Makeout with the bartender? Yeah.” I might as well tell Gerard, he wanted to hear the story.

“Wait? You’ve done that, too?” Gerard cheekily replied looking up at me from behind me.

“Shut up, babe. You really are turning into Frankie.”

“Oh, yeah! I was there when he made out with that one guy...” Nat remembered.

I laughed, hoping Gerard had become as uncomfortable as I was.

“Well anyway, we all had a really good and extremely memorable time. Word spread about our good time, ‘cause Katmandu was a really popular place, and then, like, everybody wanted to hang out with her. All our friends would be like, ‘Oh, you know, the Katmandu girl, yeah her, Katmandu’, and that was all it took to convince everybody to hang out. So all the people we met and knew would call her that.”

“So, that’s the story, huh?” Gerard finalized.

“Yep, there you go, there it is.” Natalie finished.

“Happy?” I said, just happy it was over.

“It’s cute, darlin’, really. I’ve been fucked up in bars before and I never got a cool nickname. Everyone just thought I was a vampire.”

He made me smile and I stood up and picked up the papers Natalie had brought in.

“But, did you guys hang out with all those people? She wasn’t like a slut for a while was she?” Gerarad asked Natalie.

“Gerard?!” But, he ignored me.

“Oh, no. We hung out with them, but she never got that wasted for a long time. She just won them over through her personality.

“Frankie was the slut, not me, you ass. Don’t you think you could tell if I was a slut?”

“I don’t know...”

“Whatever, you big stupid-head,” I pouted, “So what did you bring me, Nat?”

“Oh, those are the ideas they faxed over, for cover artwork.”

“That’s a little forward isn’t it? But, I guess they’ve always been like that.”

I spread the pieces of artwork over my desk, trying to visualize the concept they were going for.

“Have you talked to, Mike?” I asked Natalie.

“What? No, he’s your boss. I just work in the mailroom.”

“Oh yeah. What are you doing in here then?”

Natalie’s mouth dropped open in protest.

“I’m kidding.” I assured her.

Natalie and I left Gerard to his own devices while we talked to Mike. About an hour later I came back in, unaccompanied by Natalie. When I walked in, Gerard was spread out on the floor. He had put together the artwork I left into a stunning mural.

“I got bored. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s awesome. And I mean that in the way that means I’m in awe.”

His piece was so exciting, I could barely wait until the band came into town. I had to show my appreciation and pulled him into a big kiss.

“Can we go home now?” He asked in a cute, childish way.

“Yes, kiddo, we can go home.”