I Need You But You Make My Heart Burn in Pieces

I sat on my bed, after I had made Gerard pick the mattress up and make it back up, crunching raw carrots and stuffing cherry tomatoes into my mouth, pausing for a moment to gulp down some Coke.

"Slow down, Frankie," Gerard laughed.

I shrugged, "I'm hungry."

"So, you choose to eat salad?" he asked, scoffing at me.

"You be quiet, animal eater," I stuck my tongue out at him and he pouted.

I turned my attention back to the TV, "You're such a child, Gee."

Gerard gasped, "I'm a child? You're the one who's watching Cartoon Network."

I climbed off my bed and sat on his, wrapping an arm round his middle, "Yeah, but you like watching it too," I defended, although all the fight had gone from my voice and I lay peacefully, resting my head on his stomach.

"I'm so glad everything's getting better," I mumbled, looking up at him as he pulled his fingers through my slightly knotty hair.

Gerard nodded, "The anger management and your pills have really changed things."

"Do you think I actually need them?" I asked.

"Well, the doctor did a evaluation and he seems to think you do," Gerard said. He saw my frown and continued: "but maybe you'll get better and won't need them anymore."

"It's not like I'm ill, Gee," I laced one of his hands with mine.

"The doctor diagnosed you with an acute anxiety personality disorder so technically, you are," he told me.

"Yeah, but I don't want to get hooked on these pills," I explained.

"All you have to take is four a day; I bet you'll be fine. Now come on, we need to get dressed and head down to the bus," Gerard shifted from underneath me.

"I don't wanna go," I whined, "I'm too lazy!"

Gerard sighed, opening my suitcase and pulling out some clothes. He chucked a white shirt, red tie and black jeans at me, "Please get dressed, Frankie."

"Fine," I gave in, "but only because you picked nice clothes!"

In what seemed like no time, we were stood backstage listening to Rise Against, our support band. Gerard was putting some make up on my face because he got bored. He was looming over me as I sat leaning against the wall, he'd caked his face with what Bob called just "white paint", much to Gerard's disgust and for old time's sake, he'd painted a black strip over his eyes. Now, he was just writing things on my face and putting a bit of eyeliner on.

I felt suspicious; he was overly happy and bounced out, bursting into irrelevant bouts of hysterical laughter. I was beginning to think he'd started taking cocaine again but before I could confront him, Rise Against finished their set and had joined us in the backstage.

Normally, between the support band finished and us starting, I'd be angrily impatient to get on stage but I was stood away from the group of conversing musicians with my arms crossed, watching Gerard consistently. He was talking to Ray and Tim, Rise Against' frontman and he was still hyperactive and excited. Gerard loosely held a drink in his hand; my mind brought me back to the days when he would never be sober on stage. I walked quickly towards him, he glanced at me and suddenly he seemed nervous.

"Hi," he gave me a tiny smile and wave and I returned it.

I took his drink out of his hand, causing him to give me a confused look and I put it to my lips smelling it and taking a large gulp. It was only Coke. I was even more concerned, maybe he was doing drugs. I had never seen him so excited. It wasn't that he was constantly moody, he was just overly happy for no apparent reason now. Normally, he would be relaxing right now and maybe warming up his voice quietly but Gerard just could seem to keep still; he kept drifting around the room, occasionally glancing nervously back into the corner where I'd resumed my watchful post. At one point, he patted Mikey on the shoulder, grabbed his wrist and pulled him out the room. I followed them out into an empty corridor, the noise from the two bands couldn't be heard here, only the noise of the crowd. I hid round a corner and listened intently.

"What's up, Gee?" Mikey asked.

"I don't know if I can do it. I can't say it to him," Gerard said nervously.

"It'll be fine, you can say it," Mikey reassured him, "now, come on, we have to be on stage in a few minutes."

Gerard couldn't tell who, what?

Was he breaking up with me?

I walked back to where the musicians were quickly and stood back in my corner so I didn't look like I'd been eavesdropping. Gerard came back in, with Mikey, looking more confident and excited.

"You guys are on in two minutes," a band tech informed us.

We went through the pre-performance ritual and then we walked on stage. The lights were down and the fans gave an excited roar. I slipped my guitar strap over my shoulder and held my plectrum poised to begin the first song.

The lights went up and we began playing. I would have been jumping about and whatnot, as the fans expected, but with the prospect of being separated from Gerard, I didn't feel my usual self. I played half heartedly, strumming through the chords easily enough but not feeling the way I usually did during a live show.

We breezed through the songs and when it came to I'm Not Okay, I had expected Gerard to excite the fans by kissing me but he didn’t, which led to my further belief that he was going to break up with me. Tears started to well in my eyes at the thought of never being able to lie next to him ever again but they went unnoticed with the sweat that was building on my body.

Around an hour into the show, Gerard told us to stop playing for a moment.

"I have to ask a certain someone an important question," he told the crowd. They cheered as if to say that 'you can do whatever you want, after all you're our hero; we are forever in your debt.'

Gerard went over to the side of the stage and took something from a tech or someone, walking back into the middle of the stage and concealing it in his hand. He crossed the stage and looked purposefully at me. My hearts started to beat faster and I wondered what he was going to say. The roar of the crowd could still be heard but as Gerard got closer to me, beaming at me all the way, the noise seemed to dim. Gerard stopped right in front of me, grinning.

He knelt down on one knee and my heart thumped ever louder, tears welled in my eyes once again. Gerard held out his hand, a silver ring held in it, "Frank Anthony Iero, will you fucking marry me?" he hollered into the microphone.

For a full thirty seconds as he was kneeling down in front of me, I had comprehended what he was intending to do, but he phrased the question and his charming voice flowed out into amplifiers, the whole thing came to life. The crowd was no longer a dim, barely audible buzz but a cacophony of screams. Tears of pure joy fell down my cheeks, my hands shook and I smiled wider than I had ever smiled I gave a quick glare at Mikey who was vaguely adjusting the strap on his bass and paying attention to what my reply would be.

"Yes, I'll marry you!" I replied as Gerard stood up, grinning even wider than previously.
I wrapped my arms around him in a tight embrace, ecstatic to know that I was going to spend the rest of my life with Gerard Arthur Way.

And that everything would once again…be o-fucking-k-a-y!