Can't Find My Way Home

Four days had now passed since my amazing 'making an ass out of myself and ended up in hospital' meeting with Frank. Seven stiches and a saline drip later and I was no longer bleeding, I just had a hangover that could have killed a small villiage. They had to get in a different photographer for the past few shows, I had let them down, but I wasn't up to doing anything. I was pushing Frank away by hating his girlfriend, which I prompted him to get. By him not being attentive towards me, it made me realise just how good it had made me feel; I had loved him when he didn't love me, and now, he had shown me affection and I had tossed him to the side for no reason, I had lost my chance and I was sure there was no way I could get him back. And why would I even try, I had Tom.. well, for the mean time. But what after that? I'd be a widow. It sounded so strange to say it, and Mikey's pity only made it worse. I was pushing everyone away, just keeping to my room. Me, Tom and no one else. I didn't want to have to leave the room, but I had to go get new meds.

"Gerard!" I gasped as I ran into him in the hotel foyer. I hadn't seen him since he made sure I was back in my room after my emergency room stint.

"Dill, why haven't you been shooting us? You feeling ok?" he said inspecting the stiches still to the side my forehead.

"I-I uh, yeah I'm feeling sick, yeah. Just, headaches and stuff.." I lied, unimpresively. I knew he was skeptical, it was that same old look, time to change topic. "When are we leaving for Japan?"

"Uh, in a few days, but you can't fly if you've got headaches after that fall.."

"I, uh.. they come and go, and they're not that bad rea-" I spotted Frank walking into the hotel foyer, "-lly, I have to go, uh Tom.. you know. Uh, bye Gerard.." I stuttered all in one word. He grabbed ahold of my arm, pulling me back to him.

"Dill? Are you sure you okay? You're acting fucking weird, it's like you're on fucking drugs or something?" he asked, quizically.

"I-I'm fine, I just have. to. go." I yanked my arm out of his grasp and went to walk off, again. This time he tried to grab my arm, but caught my bag strap. The bag that I was cradeling in my arms, for no apparent reason, I lost grip of it and it fell to the floor, the contents spilling out all over the place. Inlcuding Tom's meds. I dropped to the ground to scoop the contents back up, but Gerard's fingers wrapped around the bottle before mine could. And as if it were planned impecably, Frank walked over at the exact moment Gerard looked at the bottle.

"Dylan.." he said seriously, "What are you doing with these?" he said standing up, looking down at me, shifting his gaze back and forth from the bottle, to my eyes.

"I.. I.. Nothing, Gerard.. Just give them back." I said reaching my hand out for them, my eyes practically begging for him ot to say anymore.

"What are they Gee?" Frank asked, angrily looking at me on the ground.

"They're fucking serious meds, that fuck you up if you don't actually need them."

"They're not mine. Just give them back and stop asking fucking questions." I snapped, shoving the rest of my stuff back into my bag and standing to my feet.

"It says 'Nicholls' right there in black and white Dylan, don't try and bull shit that they aren't yours. What the fuck do you think you're doing? Is this why you've been acting like such a fuck head since Tom came back?" Frank said taking the bottle from Gerard.

"You know what? Fuck off. Keep the damn things. I'm going.. Just, just leave me alone."