Status: Updating while working on rewriting the earlier chapters (and deleting some stuff).
Infinite
Twenty-five
The first time it happens, it’s barely there. The others have gone out for pizza but we’re far to comfortable lying next to each other in Gerard’s bunk to move out of there. They promised to bring back some pizza for us.
He’s playing with my hair, and the conversation we’ve just had has fizzled out. I can’t really remember what it was about.
“Do you ever think of me as old?”
He’s stopped fiddling with the strands of my hair as he asks it, and I turn to face him.
“No, why? Do you feel old?”
“Well… yeah. Sometimes.” He almost looks embarrassed. “It’s not because of you.”
“Good, ‘cause you’re not old. And even if you were, I’d still love you.”
He smiles, and drops the subject by saying:
“Yeah. I’d love you if you were old, too.”
“Pah.”
“You’d look great with grey hairs.”
“Likewise. Looks like you’ve got some…” I pretend to inspect the black hair above his left ear, “… right here.”
His panicked face makes me laugh. He tries to look angry when he realizes I'm kidding, but that makes me laugh even harder.
“I do not have grey hairs.”
“No, because you've dyed your hair.”
“You know I’ll have to tickle you now.”
“Bring it on, gramps."
I wish I’d never said that, as I spend the next ten minutes trying to escape from him before getting tickled mercilessly.
The second time, it’s just the look on his face when a fifteen-year-old fan asks him what it feels like to have such a young girlfriend. We’ve been approached by a flock of Polish fans on the busy Warsaw street, and I have a full view of his reaction to her words.
He dodges the question, replying something vague like “it’s great, what’s your name again?” before signing her copy of The Black Parade.
There is a part of me that knows something is wrong, but it’s buried in the back of my mind as he smiles at me in between signing and hugging.
The third time, it’s when the internet explodes as the fans start asking themselves whether our relationship is a good thing or a bad thing. We’re in Lisbon by then, and Gerard and I stay up until four in the morning just reading through the forums. Maybe we shouldn’t be, but after Brian told us that something was going on, we had to see it for ourselves.
There are fans saying that their parents won’t let them go to MCR shows because the singer is involved with "that kid".
There are fans hating Gerard for being a creep.
"You know that’s not true", I tell him, but even then, I can see how affected he is by it. It’s so obvious that he smiles at me just to make me think he’s okay. "You don’t think they’re right, do you? You knew what this looked like when we started dating. It was always going to be a rough ride."
"Yeah, I know."
He kisses me, but it feels like it’s just to make me feel better.
When we go to bed, it's the first time he falls asleep without holding me.
He’s playing with my hair, and the conversation we’ve just had has fizzled out. I can’t really remember what it was about.
“Do you ever think of me as old?”
He’s stopped fiddling with the strands of my hair as he asks it, and I turn to face him.
“No, why? Do you feel old?”
“Well… yeah. Sometimes.” He almost looks embarrassed. “It’s not because of you.”
“Good, ‘cause you’re not old. And even if you were, I’d still love you.”
He smiles, and drops the subject by saying:
“Yeah. I’d love you if you were old, too.”
“Pah.”
“You’d look great with grey hairs.”
“Likewise. Looks like you’ve got some…” I pretend to inspect the black hair above his left ear, “… right here.”
His panicked face makes me laugh. He tries to look angry when he realizes I'm kidding, but that makes me laugh even harder.
“I do not have grey hairs.”
“No, because you've dyed your hair.”
“You know I’ll have to tickle you now.”
“Bring it on, gramps."
I wish I’d never said that, as I spend the next ten minutes trying to escape from him before getting tickled mercilessly.
The second time, it’s just the look on his face when a fifteen-year-old fan asks him what it feels like to have such a young girlfriend. We’ve been approached by a flock of Polish fans on the busy Warsaw street, and I have a full view of his reaction to her words.
He dodges the question, replying something vague like “it’s great, what’s your name again?” before signing her copy of The Black Parade.
There is a part of me that knows something is wrong, but it’s buried in the back of my mind as he smiles at me in between signing and hugging.
The third time, it’s when the internet explodes as the fans start asking themselves whether our relationship is a good thing or a bad thing. We’re in Lisbon by then, and Gerard and I stay up until four in the morning just reading through the forums. Maybe we shouldn’t be, but after Brian told us that something was going on, we had to see it for ourselves.
There are fans saying that their parents won’t let them go to MCR shows because the singer is involved with "that kid".
There are fans hating Gerard for being a creep.
"You know that’s not true", I tell him, but even then, I can see how affected he is by it. It’s so obvious that he smiles at me just to make me think he’s okay. "You don’t think they’re right, do you? You knew what this looked like when we started dating. It was always going to be a rough ride."
"Yeah, I know."
He kisses me, but it feels like it’s just to make me feel better.
When we go to bed, it's the first time he falls asleep without holding me.