Infinite

“Frank's right. You should go.”

We’re at our place just hanging out, and Hunter and Noel are engrossed in a very explosive Xbox game. Karl and I are in the kitchen and I’ve just told him about Frank’s email.

“I can’t go. Gerard will be there and it will be so awkward with everyone else’s family there."

“Well, you can not not go. What would you do? Stay at home? And then we’ll find you lying on the couch like a nervous wreck after you've spent Christmas with all the what ifs. No way.”

Karl’s look is not pleading but demanding. And he’s absolutely right.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he says to my pained expression. “It’s not like they’re dangerous. And you have to talk to Gerard.”

“I’ll die,” I groan, putting a hand in front of my eyes, picturing all the horror I'll have to endure.

“No you won’t.”

“I’ll die and then I’ll become a zombie and then I’ll get shot in the head and die again.”

“Well, since you’ll be a zombie, technically you won't die again.”

“Shut up.”

-

I’m kind of in a daze when I get ready for Christmas Eve in Belleville. The last few days have also been a bit surreal, but now it’s extreme. I nearly poke my eye out with my eyeliner.

I haven’t cared this much about what to wear in ages. We’ve toured and done hundreds of shows, but somehow you always care more about your looks when you’re going to see the love of your life than when you’re going to perform in front of thousands of people.

I check my appearance in the mirror before I leave, to make sure that nothing is out of place. My clothes are alright, I guess – a simple black dress with red buttons and a red cardigan, but I cringe when I see my face. It’s the same as usual, it’s just that I look scared shitless. I try to smile, but it just makes me look even more frightened.

The black eyeliner and my straightened dark brown hair looks dull, but I guess this is what I normally look like. And no matter how I look, there’s no way Gerard still feels anything for me.

But can you blame me for trying?

I arrive at the Way house after an hour of thinking about what a bad decision this is. I have borrowed Karl’s car, a rusty old Honda, and the traffic hasn’t been as bad as I expected. It’s dark out and the Christmas decorations light up the street, and my breath creates white steam in the air as I step out of the car. I’ve parked it on the curb outside the house, along with all the other guests’ cars – there are quite a lot of them, and I wonder if only the band’s families are here or if there's even more people. With a lot of people present it's probably easier for me to stay away from Gerard.

Nervously running a hand over my hair, smoothening it, I step up to the front door and press the doorbell. The joyous sounds of laughter and some holiday song coming from inside aren’t helping my nerves at all – this is a Christmas party with people I used to belong to, but I probably don’t belong here anymore.

It takes a while for someone to hear the doorbell. I have to press it twice before the door opens, and then I’m standing face to face with Gerard.

His face goes from smiling to shocked, and I realize at once that no one told him I was coming.

“… Aubrey?”

All I can do is stand there in silence. There was no way I could have prepared myself for this, for the awful Christmas sweater he’s wearing and the glitter someone has put in his hair and the way his face contorts into something I can’t read.

“Aubrey!”

Donna smiles at me as she emerges from the kitchen to the left, and quickly throws a glance at her son before engulfing me in a hug.

“Don’t look at her like she’s something the cat dragged in. I invited her,” she tells Gerard before offering to take my coat. “Go and get her something to drink.”

Gerard obliges without even a glance in my direction, and I wonder if coming here was such a good idea. But these people are my friends, even if our friendship is the result of my failed relationship.

Gerard returns a moment later when Donna has told me that food will be served within thirty minutes and has disappeared into the kitchen again. I’m alone with Gerard in his parents’ hallway and try my hardest not to look at his face.

“Here you go,” he says, handing me a glass of something sparkling, presumably non-alcoholic. I’ve longed to hear his voice but now I can’t recognize it.

“Gerard…"

“It’s good to see you, Aubrey,” Gerard interrupts, forcing a smile at me.

Everything I want to tell him gets stuck in my throat.

“Really?” I say, not being able to stop myself. Gerard’s face falls.

“Yeah,” he hesitantly says.

“It’s good to see you too, Gerard.”

What am I supposed to say? Ask him why he was at the show without attempting to speak to me? Pretend that I’m fine and that it doesn’t matter that he broke my heart?

I settle for the last one. At least I attempt to, but I have the feeling he sees right through me.

“So…”

“Um. Yeah.”

And with that he disappears into the living room to join the others, leaving me alone and with a sudden urge to throw my half full glass at the back of his disappearing head.