His Personal (Lover) Assistant

Sex is never just sex. Most obviously. You can’t randomly pick someone to sleep with, and expect everything to be normal in the morning. Sure, there’s one night stands, but they’ve always ended up twisted for me. I wake up, and there’s the guy who still wants my number. Or the guy who thinks we’re together. Or the guy who doesn’t even care, just wants directions out of the apartment or city or whatever, after seeing my face. Sex has never been just sex.

Obviously, sleeping with Douche wasn’t just, ‘sleeping with douche.’ It was a complicated, twisted matter, most obviously. Because he’s my boss. And you can’t just sleep with your boss and expect everything to be perfect the next day. You can’t see your boss naked and then go into work and ask how his evening was with a straight face. It’s a lie. It’s hiding.

But I’m good at lying, if you haven’t noticed. I’ve lied all my life. To teachers, when they asked if I was getting a good breakfast, lunch, and dinner when I started looking scraggly. Of course, I would say, I eat every night. It was a lie. Some days I was lucky if I could get a sandwich from the school lunch line, because mom didn’t have enough change.

So I wanted to lie, naturally, when Ray told me that I needed to confront Douche. But he was right. Every action has a consequence. I know Karma would come around and bite my ass if I don’t talk to him, or at least, try to. But maybe it’s not such a bad thing, you know? Maybe I could tell him that it meant nothing, and that’s it.

The end.

My life doesn’t work that simple, I realized, as I walked into the office the next day, and sit down. I know that there’s no way in hell that the both of us will be able to live this down. I could tell him it meant almost as much as that piece of paper lying on the floor, and he will say something just as bad. And in the end, the tension will still be there, and you could cut through it with a knife.

“Mr. Howard,” I greeted him, ignoring the spinning thoughts in my head, and shaking this man’s hand. He’s one of the biggest record executives out there. Douche has had this meeting set up for months. If I don’t treat him like gold, something bad will go down.

Something even worse than sleeping with my boss.

“Hello. I have a meeting with Gerard Way.” He said politely. I sighed, and nodded, that fake smile still planted on my face.

Stupid job. Stupid smiles.

“Of course you do. Just let me tell him you’re here.” Howard nodded, and sat down on the chair I had positioned on the other side of my desk. I walked over to Douche’s office, and knocked on the door. He answered almost immediately.

The Douche I see, it’s not the Douche I know. Instead, Douche is replaced with this different person, and left standing, is the shell of the man I once knew. Something happened, I knew it. Something must have happened, and something that left him empty, gone. Wasted. And I’m not sure what to say. So I say the stupidest thing known to man. “You look like shit.”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even glare. He just continues to stare at what appears to be empty nothingness. I wasn’t sure how to interpret this. “Mr. Howard is here.”

This, appeared to bring him out from the trance, and he snaps back into boss mode. “Bring him in,” He snapped. “And I don’t appreciate your snide comment. We’ll talk later.”

Same old Douche.

….It takes a total of three hours before Howard walked out, grinning, and Douche stepped from his office, looking sort of happy, and sort of confused. I’m not sure why. I’m not sure I want to know why. Once Howard was out the door, Douche turned to me.

There was a moment of complete and total silence. It wasn’t silence that we were trying to fight. It was silence that we chose. We chose not to speak, because we were reading each other with out eyes. “My office,” He finally said softly. “Now.”

And I listened to him.Part all of me was so mesmerized by his dull, hazel empty eyes, that I stood up, and listened to him, without struggling. That’s not normal. I hate following orders. So listening to Douche…it’s big, you know? He sat down at his desk, and continued to look at me, as I sat down as well.

There was something so wrong with him. Something had hurt him, and I longed to know what. I reached across the desk, and touched my hand to his cheek. He visibly flinched, but I ignored it. “What happened?” I asked him softly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” He said hurriedly. “We have to talk about—“

“We can talk about that later,” I interrupted. “Gerard, you’re a man who can make anyone listen. You can make some of the busiest men and women push aside something else, just to make time for you.
“I’m telling you, do your thing, push aside a few appointments, and open up while someone’s willing to listen.”

He was quiet for a minute. And then he spoke. “I broke my vows.” He said. “I broke my promise to Sophia, to everyone. Marriage is forever,” He cleared his throat. “Right Frank? I mean, isn’t that what God says? Marriage is forever, once you say your vows, you’re to keep to them?”

“Do you believe everything God says? Do you think you’re going to hell?” I asked simply. His eyes darted away nervously.

“My mom would kill me,” He gave a nervous laugh. “For committing adultery. For breaking vows.”

“Did you love Sophia?” I asked softly. He looked back at me again, and stared for a long time, before finally shaking his head.

“No. No, I don’t. But I’ve told you that before.”

“Double checking,” I said hastily. He searched me, as my eyes flickered away, and glanced around the room. I saw him smirk from the corner of my eyes, and inwardly groaned. He assumed something.

“You like me,” He declared.

“No, I don’t. You irritate me Gerard. A lot,” I said flatly. His smirk grew even wider, tantalizing, maybe even. “I mean, you’re selfish, in most cases, and—and…”

“I’m waiting,” He sang, crossing his arms.

“Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. He leaned over the desk, and pulled my face towards his, kissing my lips, hesitantly. I kissed back, and was almost upset when it was over.

“My grandma died,” He said, pulling back.

So that’s what was bothering him.

“I guess everyone’s time comes sooner or later. I guess maybe it was expected. She lived a long life. But it still hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, wringing my hands.

“So am I.” He said. “I have to go into Jersey. For the funeral. Sophie…she can’t—she can’t make it.”

Silence.

“Will you come?” He asked. “As a friend.”

More silence.

“Yes.” I answered, finally. “I’ll come with you.”

XxX

For once, I actually don’t look forward to going home. I wanted to stay at work, where everything went smoothly. WhereDouche Gerard and I worked together evenly, without any bumps, snags, tears, or holes. Where, we didn’t have to patch it up, we just worked. It was nice. It had a sense of perfection, a sense of greatness to it. And I actually looked forward to going back home to Jersey. Just to see Bellville once more.

I turned the lights on, and pressed the play button on the message machine. ”Frank, it’s you mom. I’m…I’m in a rehab center in Bellville dear. If you’d like to come see me. I’ll give you the number. 555-1234. Please, call me baby. We need to talk.”

”Iiiit’s Ainsley. I’m calling to talk about Dad’s wedding. He wants you as best man. Call back. Oh, and did you hear from mom? I can’t believe she’s actually doing it. Love you big Bro.”

I sunk into the chair, and groaned. My mom was in rehab. My mom was getting clean. My mom was getting sober. After twenty some years, my mom decided she had a fucking problem. Maybe good Karma was on my side now…

I fell asleep smiling.