Eyes Shining, Watching

It started at the Paramour. I saw it start. We were all so scared, and so desperately lonely in that place. Watching them, I couldn’t blame them for wanting closeness. I wanted it. I envied them, what they had, who they were.

They never knew I watched.

I saw everything. Every shy smile, every embrace, every kiss. Every time they slept wrapped in each others arms, I was watching. Wanting.

They were suffering, both. One in fear for his brother, one for his father. They found solace with each other. I found solace with no-one. No warm arms held me when I wanted to cry (even though it was impossible for me to do so) there was no heartbeat to lull me to sleep each night, as I lay with the person I loved.

Yes, I envied them.

I thought they were being deliberate. Flaunting their love, their closeness in front of me, knowing I would never have what they would. I soon realized, they were oblivious to me. Completely unaware. They were so wrapped up in each other, trying to get through making this record that I was barely there. They didn’t even see me.

No-one sees me.

So I dedicated my time to watching them. Seeing them. One always with his precious guitar, strumming music I didn’t understand, covered in art that wouldn’t wash off. I knew every line of ink that ran across his body. I watched him. The other was clean, his naked flesh matching the naked purity of his voice. I still didn’t understand their music, but I didn’t need to.

I understood their love.

I watched them slowly panic, scared all the time, obsessed with leaving the hotel. I wanted to beg them not to leave, but would they listen to me? I doubt it. So I stayed silent, ever watching. I watched them go to each other in tears, saw them cry together, saw them threaten to give up, but a kiss from the other would silence all their fears. A kiss would give them strength to carry on, and not be afraid. I wanted their kisses, that strength that flowed though them seemed supernatural to me. I wanted them to kiss me, and take my fears away, but I knew they’d never kiss me.

I hated them for that.

Soon, they were smiling again. A breath of life ran through them, not just my two lovers, but all of them. They were almost finished. They were happy. I watched my two, and it broke my heart. It had hurt to see them sad, I had been happy to see them together, but together and leaving? No, I wouldn’t let them leave. Not me. They couldn’t leave me. I loved them as much as they loved each other. I wanted to see them every day. To see them take that next step. See them finally move together, and bring each other that earthly pleasure.

I wanted to have them.

Them leaving was the end. Without their love filling the echoing halls, I feared I would die. I couldn’t let them leave. At first I had resented their love, now I needed it. But I knew I couldn’t stop them leaving. They never saw me. So I remained as I had done the entire time: the watcher, never seen and never heard.

“I’m so glad we’re almost out of here, Gerard.” Said the first, kissing his knuckles.

“I know Frankie,” said the second, lacing their fingers together.

I watched.

I listened.

“Do you ever feel...bad about leaving?” Said the first again.

“You want to stay?”

“No. I just feel that something happened here.”

“It did, and it’ll keep happening when we leave.” Another kiss.

I almost felt that the first knew I was there. Watching them. The second brushed away his fears with one of his kisses. Those magic life-giving kisses that I would never have. I watched them pack, watched them collect their instruments, heard them talk about electronics I could barely comprehend. I was filled with a sudden urge to stop them. Keep them here with me, in this hell. They only survived it because of each other, how was I to continue alone?

They had become so important to me. I had watched them play, sing, laugh, cry, kiss, draw-God how I loved to watch the singing one draw- I couldn’t imagine not watching them any more. They were leaving. This was the day they were leaving. I watched.

I saw my inked angel go into one of the already empty rooms. I followed, always watching, ever curious.

“I know you’re there.”

I saw him, heard him, but no other was there. He wasn’t talking to anyone.

“I’ve felt you. Watching us. Everywhere. At first I thought I was going crazy, but now I think you’re real. I even think I’ve seen you in my dreams.”
He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. I still didn’t understand.

“This made me sure I wasn’t insane. Gerard saw you too. He drew you. I’d never described you to him, so he must have seen you as well. You’ve been watching us.”

I only watch because I can do nothing else.

“Can’t you move on?”

He heard me?

“You scared me at first, but now I almost feel guilty for leaving you. You’re almost a part of our music now. Gerard and I talked about you, and we both knew you watched us, and at first we were scared and wanted to leave. But you never intruded, or tried to hurt us. You weren’t the monster in this, our personal demons were. You just watched. You’re sad, aren’t you?”

I don’t need to go to hell, it’s already here.

“I thought so.”

He put the picture on the desk, was that what I looked like now? It had been so long. Such a very long time.

“Gerard said you always watch most when he draws. He did this outside, so you wouldn’t see. He’s so talented. I love to watch him draw too. I understand.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face. It always did when he spoke of the other. I saw it happen whenever I watched him.

“He wants to put you on the album. Wants you to be there. You weren’t a protective angel,”

Of course not, you two are my angels. My inked angel, and my singing angel. I’m no angel,

“but you watched over us. With shining eyes. We want you to keep watching. We named you Mother War. Your face will always be close, and you’ll be able to watch a hell of a lot more with your face everywhere. Everyone will know you.”

My angels. I watched him turn to leave. Then stop and smile his cheeky angelic grin.

“I don’t really know the etiquette for talking to a ghost, but you should know, we didn’t have sex because of you. Didn’t feel right with someone watching.”

I’m sorry.

“Goodbye Mother War.”

I watched him leave, embrace the other and begin to talk.

“Did you do it?” Asked the singing one.

“Yeah. Do you think I’m crazy for doing it?”

“No. I felt it too. She was real, at least to us.”

“Do you think it made her happy?”

“I have no idea. You’re the one who just had a conversation with a ghost, what do you think?”

“I hope so.”

I watched them prepare to leave. Envying them again, so much it hurt. The other three were waiting outside for them. All ready for the real world again. They escaped. All five were going to escape and I was trapped. But I couldn’t hate them any more. Their love was impossible to hate. All I had wanted was to watch, now I wanted was to be seen.

They both turned together. And saw. Fear spread across their faces, before being washed away with calm.

“Hello Mother War.” They said, almost as one.

And I was finally seen.

They saw me.

“We’ll keep our promise.”

I was seen.

“We just wanted to say goodbye.”

They were seeing me.

“The album is finished.”

I couldn’t distinguish between their voices, everything was blurring, twisting, distorting and warping out of view.

“We just wanted to say goodbye.”

They saw me.

Then I saw nothing.

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“She’s gone,” said Frank, in a stunned voice, “I can’t feel her here any more.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around him, without her the room suddenly felt a lot colder, “Maybe she was ready to go. She seemed happy though, right before she left, she seemed...happy.”

I was still hugging him, in the now completely empty room. Just the two of us, no-one watching for a change. His eyes didn’t move off the spot where she had stood. “You saw her though, right?”

I nodded again, “Don’t worry Frank, soon everyone will.”

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