Broken

Franks point of view

The shot burned the back of my throat as it went down, making me cough slightly.

"Aw Frank I didn't know you were a little bitch!" cried Bob, clapping his large hand onto my shoulder with more force than I think he intended.

"Another one for the little man!" said Bob, signaling the bartender who nodded and slid another vodka shot my way.

"Bob, I'm not into shots," I tried to explain again. He wouldn't listen. He was a pretty rowdy drunk.

"Come on Frankie, down the hatch," he said, gripping the shot in one hand and my chin in the other. I felt tears prick at my eyes. Nobody has called me Frankie since... well... in a long time.

I thought Bob was nice, I thought I even had a crush on him, but he's not being the nicest guy tonight.

I forced myself to swallow the burning liquid and this time didn't cough. Bob let out a loud cheer and high fived me, then ordered another drink for himself from the bar.

A tap on my shoulder announced the return of Gerard. He had white powder all over the end of his nose and his pupils were the size of quarters.

Something in my mind snapped. Gerard had been snorting coke in the bathroom, Bob was out of his mind drunk. I'd had enough.

"Right," I said loudly, pulling them both by the scruff of the neck to the door of the bar and out into the cold street.

Gerard was clinging onto Bob's arm for support, the concoction of alcohol and drugs in his system seemingly too much for him to take.

I quickly hailed a cab and bundled Bob into the back of it. Gerard, however, was more of a task.

"Come on Gee, we're going to another place," I said.

"I like it here, I want to stay here," he said stubbornly.

"Aw fucks sake," I groaned, stamping my foot out of sheer frustration. I hated moments like these.

"Gerard get in the fucking car!" I yelled. He looked slowly at me, a look of horror appeared on his face.

"OK! I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, getting into the back of the cab with Bob.

I got in the front and sighed.

"Rough night huh?" said the driver.

"Tell me about it..."

***

Bob's point of view

After almost ten minutes of coaxing, Gerard had agreed to get out of the cab and come into the hotel, on the condition that I warm up his bed so it isn't too cold for him.

Frank had walked off, and left us to our own devices, I can't say I blamed him.

After a brief struggle with the card key system we arrived in Gerard's messy hotel room.

"Shoes off! and warm up that bed!" he said, walking into the bathroom.

I giggled and kicked off my shoes, clambering into the double bed and getting under the sheets to warm it up for him.

I drifted into a state of near sleep until I was suddenly jolted by someone curling up next to me.

Absent mindedly, I draped my arm over them, just wanting to sleep.

The person rolled over in my arms to face me and I opened my eyes. I was met with hazel and messy black hair.

"Gerard, I'm going to my room now."

"No, Bobby, stay a minute more," he said, a new tone in his voice that I hadn't heard before.

"Mm OK," I mumbled, cuddling up to him again.

His hand stroked my lower back gently.

Before I knew what was happening, I was kissing him hard and he had rolled to be on top of me.

Clothes were ripped off and flung in every direction.

That night was enough to end my drumming career before it had even begun.