Keep the Faith

I can see you. As your body molds into various forms of agony while your voice threatens to crack from all of the stress you put on it, I can see you cry out for help. I can see you in pain from all of this utter shit that’s been thrown at you, like you’re one of the victims of the Holocaust remembering all of the physical and mental abuse that you had endured.

“Don’t let them get to you,” I had mumbled before the show. I could see the fear in your eyes that had only once been there back when we first started; when we were still fresh and new to things. We hadn’t thought about rumors, we didn’t think that we would be good enough to have rumors spread about us.

Oh fuck were we wrong.

I strum the strings on my guitar, glancing down to make sure that my fingers are placed correctly on the strings, and look back up at you only to see you look back at me. You are still the savior that so many have given up on, and you are still the human that I know and love like the brother I never had.

I can see through you, and I nearly drop my instrument when I see your soul. It’s so beaten, leaving a burn on my retinas. You are crying and bleeding and dying, staining the pearl white bones making up your skeleton. You are begging for help that I am unable to give, and I swear it kills me just as much as it destroys you.

The lights die down as the last notes and lyrics fade away into the darkness, and all I can see is you. You slump down and place the microphone on the floor, turning and leaving without a single word. You ignore your lover and turn away from the gazes of your friends.

Oh, Mister Hero, how far have you fallen?

I follow you, handing off my guitar to a technician before breaking into a run, only to barely catch you at the exit – your escape from me – but a mortal compared to you in the eyes of your worshippers. Placing a hand on your shoulder, I feel the tenseness and deadness of your body in response to my warmth and monotonously moving organs. You halt and remove your hand from the door handle as hair falls in front of your eyes.

“I let them get to me,” you whisper, voice and stature trembling. “I let everyone down. I slipped up and now everyone hates… Now everyone hates me…”

I want to hug him; squeeze him until his head pops off, but I refrain from doing so. Someone so broken shouldn’t be played with like that.

“I don’t hate you,” I murmur and your head lifts up pitifully at my words.

Those gremlins we call followers; soldiers turned away because their “immortal hero” was no longer flawless. Reality came as a blow to them, and they couldn’t handle it. The teenagers and the easily manipulated formed a non-verbal pact and made his life a living Hell once more.

They don’t know how perfect you are in my eyes, Leader.

“You can break down just like anyone, Gerard,” I say, turning him around to face me. “You can slip up, because you’re a human being. You can make mistakes because you were created with flaws. We only have one life, Gerard, and you can’t let these monsters lead that one chance you have to finish making a difference. You’ve started it and now you have to complete it. You can’t give up when there are still people out there who love you…”

You cry. You finally allow the crystalline tears to stain your visage, and I pull you towards me, wrapping my arms around you. Your quaking body calms a bit and you return the hug, embracing me so tightly that I can feel the circulation being cut off.

“I’m scared,” you breathe after a heartbeat of silence.

“Fear can keep us up all night,” I reply softly, “but faith makes for a nice pillow.”