Status: Updating while working on rewriting the earlier chapters (and deleting some stuff).
Infinite
Nineteen
After managing not to fall back onto the bed kissing, Gerard and I try to make ourselves presentable (my bra was mysteriously unclasped, to begin with) before making our way upstairs. The smell of food has spread through the house and I realize I’m very hungry. When we get to the kitchen, Gerard’s parents have already been seated.
“Mom, this is Aubrey.”
Donna Way sets down her glass of water and looks at me curiously.
“Hello, Mrs Way,” I say, hoping my voice isn’t as high-pitched as it seems. Gerard gives my hand a light squeeze.
“Well hello, Aubrey, you can call me Donna.” She gets up to shake my hand, all the while keeping her gaze firm on my face. “Have a seat, you can take Mikey’s.”
Mikey’s seat is right next to Gerard’s. His parents keep asking me discreet questions about my family, how Gerard and I met (and I’m almost sure gold digger crosses Mrs Way’s mind – I can see it on her face, the way her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she looks at me) and stuff like that. By the dessert (chocolate ice cream), Gerard is keeping the conversation alive with talk about the tour, while I sit in silence, trying to smile politely.
"I hear Alicia’s birthday party was a success", Mrs Way says suddenly. "Mikey told me all about it. And how old are you, Aubrey?"
Smooth. Of course she wants to know how old I am.
“I’m eighteen,” I say, and I’m glad Gerard’s fingers are laced with mine under the table.
“Oh,” Donna Way says, and looks at Gerard. She is about to say something more, but is interrupted by her husband.
“Well, this has been a wonderful meal as always, dear wife, but the evening news are calling.”
“Yes, and we have a… few things to sort out,” Gerard says, and I’m staring at the floor the whole while I’m standing next to Gerard, putting my plate in the dishwasher, and try my best to smile at his mother when I tell her that I enjoyed the meal. She smiles back but it’s a fake smile, and Gerard doesn’t need any help figuring out what’s bothering me when we get down to his room again.
“She hates me,” I whisper pathetically against his chest where he has placed me, stroking my hair. “She’s your mother and she hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you, she’s… protective,” Gerard says, kissing the top of my head before continuing. “She’s happy for us. She’s just worried, she thinks I’ll get hurt.”
I still have my face buried in his shirt, but now I raise my chin to put it in the crook of his neck.
"Is she worried I’ll hurt you? She doesn’t even know me."
I bite my lip while waiting for his reaction. He sighs and pulls away a little.
“I’ve been through some tough shit, I’m sure you know that.”
I nod. I have been a fan for some time, after all, although I’m not sure what I qualify as now. Fan with benefits?
“Well, Mom seems to think I’m some sort of fragile thing, like one little breakdown would hurl me back into drinking and using again. Which probably won’t happen. Mom’s just being mom, it’s her job to care about me.” We both smile at this.
"So I’ll just have to prove myself, then."
"Unfortunately, yes."
Gerard seems to be studying my face and then kisses my lips lightly, and I’m quick to respond – in a matter of seconds, I’m on my back with his hands disappearing under my shirt again.
“Mom, this is Aubrey.”
Donna Way sets down her glass of water and looks at me curiously.
“Hello, Mrs Way,” I say, hoping my voice isn’t as high-pitched as it seems. Gerard gives my hand a light squeeze.
“Well hello, Aubrey, you can call me Donna.” She gets up to shake my hand, all the while keeping her gaze firm on my face. “Have a seat, you can take Mikey’s.”
Mikey’s seat is right next to Gerard’s. His parents keep asking me discreet questions about my family, how Gerard and I met (and I’m almost sure gold digger crosses Mrs Way’s mind – I can see it on her face, the way her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she looks at me) and stuff like that. By the dessert (chocolate ice cream), Gerard is keeping the conversation alive with talk about the tour, while I sit in silence, trying to smile politely.
"I hear Alicia’s birthday party was a success", Mrs Way says suddenly. "Mikey told me all about it. And how old are you, Aubrey?"
Smooth. Of course she wants to know how old I am.
“I’m eighteen,” I say, and I’m glad Gerard’s fingers are laced with mine under the table.
“Oh,” Donna Way says, and looks at Gerard. She is about to say something more, but is interrupted by her husband.
“Well, this has been a wonderful meal as always, dear wife, but the evening news are calling.”
“Yes, and we have a… few things to sort out,” Gerard says, and I’m staring at the floor the whole while I’m standing next to Gerard, putting my plate in the dishwasher, and try my best to smile at his mother when I tell her that I enjoyed the meal. She smiles back but it’s a fake smile, and Gerard doesn’t need any help figuring out what’s bothering me when we get down to his room again.
“She hates me,” I whisper pathetically against his chest where he has placed me, stroking my hair. “She’s your mother and she hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you, she’s… protective,” Gerard says, kissing the top of my head before continuing. “She’s happy for us. She’s just worried, she thinks I’ll get hurt.”
I still have my face buried in his shirt, but now I raise my chin to put it in the crook of his neck.
"Is she worried I’ll hurt you? She doesn’t even know me."
I bite my lip while waiting for his reaction. He sighs and pulls away a little.
“I’ve been through some tough shit, I’m sure you know that.”
I nod. I have been a fan for some time, after all, although I’m not sure what I qualify as now. Fan with benefits?
“Well, Mom seems to think I’m some sort of fragile thing, like one little breakdown would hurl me back into drinking and using again. Which probably won’t happen. Mom’s just being mom, it’s her job to care about me.” We both smile at this.
"So I’ll just have to prove myself, then."
"Unfortunately, yes."
Gerard seems to be studying my face and then kisses my lips lightly, and I’m quick to respond – in a matter of seconds, I’m on my back with his hands disappearing under my shirt again.