Little Mini Bert

“So, Gee, finished with that last song yet?” Frank asked excitedly. Gerard let out a slow sigh.

“Working on it.” Truthfully, Gerard hadn’t even looked at the scribbled-over piece of paper in at least a week, and he hadn’t thought about it until Frank mentioned it. He didn’t dare say that, though. He felt like he was losing his inspiration. He knew the rest of the guys were anxious to start recording the new album – they were already behind on time as it were – and he couldn’t help but feel like the only thing that was holding them back.

“Do you need any help?” the guitarist offered. Gerard shook his head.

“I’ll be fine.”

The doorbell rang and broke through his train of thought. He frowned in surprise and went to open it. He saw nothing, but upon hearing a tiny, high-pitched sound near his feet, he looked down and nearly jumped into the air.

“Well…hello little one.”

“Who’s there, Gee?” Frank called. Gerard picked up the baby and carried it back inside. Frank’s eyes doubled in size when he saw what his friend was holding. “Is that…a horse?”

“You act like you’ve never seen one before,” Gerard said with alarming nonchalance. He placed the foal on the floor and laughed as it started walking towards Frank, who promptly tried to get out of its way only to have it follow his every step.

“Well…I’m scared of the big ones,” he said awkwardly. This only made Gerard laugh even more, and when the horse let out another neigh, Frank knew there was no way he would live this down.

“What’s this?” he asked, bending down and picking up a piece of paper from the ground. Gerard took it from him and read it silently.

Hey, Gee.

Heard you’re running behind on that new album, so I decided to give you some help. Little mini had her first foal, and I thought you’d need him more than I would. He reminds me of you with that little lemon shape on his forehead, and believe me, I’ve got enough horses running around here already.

It was the only thing I could think of.

Oh, and check the front step, I left a present for you.

-Bert

Gerard couldn’t help but smile as he returned to the door. He looked down at the front step and saw something silver glinting in the light. He picked it up and couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it earlier.

“Aah!”

“It’s okay, Frank, he can’t actually bite your fingers in half yet,” Gerard said with a knowing sigh when he heard his friend’s cry of surprise. Frank’s pride was hurt more than anything else.

“Hey… What’s that?” he asked in an attempt to change the subject. He was pointing to the object loosely clutched in Gerard’s right hand.

“A gift,” he replied simply. He slid the lighter back into his pocket where it belonged and walked back to the table, staring at the snippets of lyrics once again. A thought suddenly struck him, and he picked up the nearest pen and began to write.

“Hey, can you find something for the little guy to eat? He’s probably starving,” he called to Frank.

“Like what? I don’t know what horses eat!” the guitarist complained. Gerard rolled his eyes.

“You’re vegan, just share your lunch with him.”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“I know I am.” He continued writing out more lyrics, sketching out bits of melodies as he went, until he heard Frank start complaining about a particularly foul smell. Sighing, Gerard stood and walked toward the kitchen, planning to show Frank how to clean up after the best present he’d ever received.