Misery Loves Me

I stand there with Gerard’s arms wrapped around me. I don’t know how to react to this. Do I finally believe them? I don’t know yet. What I do know, is that Mikey is a mind reader, because he immediately knows why I walked away so suddenly.

“Frank! I’m so sorry I sounded angry! I shouldn’t have yelled at you. But at least try to believe us! Will you, please?” I slowly nod, still being hold tightly by Gerard. I will try, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever believe them. It’s just too weird. Who would like me!? Nobody ever did.

--

Mikey has asked me to come over again. I’ve nothing else to do, so I agreed and now I’m walking to their place. Mikey and Gerard are chatting with each other about a comic that Mikey loves, but apparently Gerard thinks it sucks. I am walking quietly next to them, fists in my pockets and head hung low. I’ve never read a comic, so I’ve no idea what they’re talking about. Not that I’d join the conversation if I had, but now I can’t even follow it.

“What do you think Frank?” Mikey suddenly asks me. “It is a great comic, right?” I just shrugged in response.

“Just tell Mikey that it sucks Frank! Don’t try to be nice to him, he deserves to know that he’s wrong and that that comic just sucks!” I shrug my shoulders again and begin to feel bad because I still don’t know what they’re exactly talking about. What am I supposed to say? And are they really asking me to chose on whose side I am? Do I have to chose between the two of them? I’m getting confused again.

“Frank?
Frank?”

“Frank!” My head snapped up. What did I do wrong?

“Are you still there?” Gerard asks with a tone in his voice that I’ve only heard coming from him and Mikey. I nod and look down at my feet again, afraid to look them in the eyes. I don’t like looking people in the eyes. I’ll only do that when I need to check if they’re lying. And even then I don’t like the contact.

“Frank, are you okay?” Mikey asks with that tone in his voice again. I shrug and nod. I’m as okay as I can be, which is actually not “okay” at all. But I’m used to it.

“You’re sure?” Gerard asks still with that tone, and I can’t place it. I nod again. They know I won’t talk, so why are they still asking? Are they annoyed? I didn’t do anything wrong did I?

“Okay then, let’s go inside,” Mikey says. I notice we were standing in front of the house already, since when are we here?

I follow Mikey and Gerard to the kitchen, where they both grab a drink and ask me if I want one too. I nod, I’m kind of thirsty. I don’t notice anything that happens around me for a while. I’m occupied with my own, really confused may I add, thoughts. This all would be a lot easier if I had some social skills. I don’t know how to act around people that are nice to me, and neither do I know what they mean if they act a certain way. It’s just too confusing.

--

Mikey has asked me why I didn’t answer the question about the comic. I had shrugged again and then he gave me a pencil and I piece of paper. I wrote that I didn’t know the comic which made Mikey gasp and shout that this was unbelievable. Gerard had just grinned and said I didn’t even want to. Mikey didn’t agree with him, which is why I’m now sitting on Mikey’s bed while he’s searching for the comic. I’ve never had any comics, but I’ve heard of them. I heard it are books with a lot of pictures and not much text. I like the idea of that. Gerard is downstairs, in the basement. It’s also his room. I always thought that was weird, but now I’m not sure anymore. He said we could call him when we were done “reading shitty comics”.

Mikey has a lot comics. He’s going through thousands of them to find that particular one. I’m amazed of all the stuff he has. I’ve always had the really necessary things: a bed, a clock, a desk when I was a bit older and not much more really. I think I might have had a ball once. And sometimes some paper, pencils and colored crayons. But that was it. I got it when some people were kind of nice to me. I don’t think my mother ever got me something.

Mikey has found the comic. He cheered. Now he’s sitting, and bouncing on his bed beside me. With the comic on his lap.

“Okay, look at this. The drawings are amazing! And you have to read the story! It’s so stunning! I don’t get why Gerard doesn’t like this!”

I look at him. His face is glowing of enthusiasm, his eyes glinting. How much can a human love a piece of paper?

“Do you want to read it?” He asks me. I nod and he shifts closer to me. I stir and look at him confused. What is he doing now? He smiles and says that it’s so he can lay the comic on both our laps so we can read together. I’m okay with that. He opens the comic at the first page, and we begin to read together.

Gerard walks in. After he has asked if I’m not bored to death and have shook my head, he picks another comic and sits down on the floor to read it. I like this. We’re together, reading and it feels good. Comfortable I’d call it, I think.