Born and Broken Every Single Time.

I found Mikey sprawled out on his bed, randomly messing with his phone. He was probably texting Alicia knowing him, but I didn’t snoop. He grinned at me, thanking me overdramatically for finally gracing him with my presence. I shrugged it off and told him I was a busy guy, making him laugh.

"New start going good?" he smirked, watching me as I sat down in the chair, crossing my legs for added comfort.

"I’d say so," I smiled. I didn’t feel the need to go into details, whether it was my stand over this eating thing or my actions in school. Even though he was my best friend he didn’t take too kindly to my stories from English, making him feel somewhat left out. I on the other hand let him ramble, knowing that was basically Mikey summed up and denying that was insanity.

"Good," he replied, grinning to himself as he put his phone back in his pocket.

"Alicia?" I laughed, unzipping my hoodie and hanging it on the armrest.

"Yeah," he smiled. "It’s crazy, eight months today. Are you okay to hang here later on your own?"

"You’re staying?" I questioned, acknowledging his gleeful nod before I continued. "Of course I’m okay! Just remember Mikes-"

"If you make one remark about protection, I will kick your ass," he grinned, seeing right through my next statement. I said it so often it was almost second nature to our conversations involving his girl.

"Um, just remember I love you man," I grinned. "Don’t you ever forget that."

"Freak," he laughed, dragging himself from his bed and rummaging through the drawers to find something to wear. Even though they’d been seeing each other for a while, he was rarely allowed to stay at her house. Her parents were a bit funny on the subject but for special occasions, an anniversary of sorts counting as one of them, then it was deemed okay.

He pulled out shirt after shirt, making me laugh each time. I eventually told him not to dress up for it; after all they were just hanging at hers. He nodded at my point, changing his search to the vast array of band shirts he had hidden away. After piling his uniform into a bag for the next day, he finally settled on a Black Flag shirt that he’d found in the back corner for the evening. He teamed it with his regular jeans and Vans classics, also agreeing to my suggestion not to straighten his hair. He had a tendency to straighten in to the point it actually stunk from burning, and that’s not exactly romantic.

We spent the next half an hour just hanging out, talking about our days – to be more precise, Mikey talking about his day and me nodding thoughtfully as he spoke. When his phone went off again he made his apologies and scampered downstairs excitedly as Alicia arrived outside in her dads car to pick him up. Eight months, and they were just as excited with each other as they were eight days into their relationship.

I smiled as I watched the car leave, peering out of his window onto the darkening street. I missed being like this, just being reflective but not in some depressing sense. I had a streak of optimism etched within me as I stared ahead, watching the little droplets of rain slowly trickle down the window and distort my view minutely. I watched the little kids outside running back to their homes because the rain was falling heavily, or because they were past their evening curfew and pictured myself there with Mikey all those years ago. It was strange. I’d listened to so many of my peers talk about ’the good old days’ or ’ten years ago’ but now I could clearly recall ten years ago for myself, it was scary. I couldn’t help but smile as I pictured my childhood before me, but I couldn’t help but feel scared at the prospect that I’d have to let go of it, move on and actually grow up.

I didn’t mind that I’d be on my own tonight, I could just treat this place as it was my own by crashing out in front of the television as I used to at my own house, although I wondered whether I should call it my house anymore. I’d gladly never go back there at the moment, I was happy here. I rummaged through my single drawer, pulling out some random pyjama bottoms to change into, going for comfort over style like any self-respecting teen should. I didn’t bother changing my top - it seemed a pointless action.

I made sure the door was clicked shut, a slight OCD I had, before slumping onto his bed and pulling the remote from under his pillow. I never felt fully at ease when the door was open, even if it was slightly ajar. I’d always been like that so although everyone seemed to find it strange, it was what I knew to be normal. I flicked from quiz show to quiz show, sighing and tutting my disapproval as I did so. I finally rested on some random show, not even bothering what it was as long as it wasn’t porn, in case someone walked in. That would be terrible! Mikey once told me his dad had walked in on him on the X channels, it made for an amusing story but not a situation I craved to be in.

I pulled the guitar from its resting place, crossing my legs as I sat on the bed to play more comfortably. I left the TV as background noise as I pulled the plectrum I had been given from Mikey’s bedside table and plucked the strings quietly as I tuned them to the best of my ability. I strummed any song that came to mind, just looking for an outlet of my emotions and creativity.

My guitar had always been something great to me. From the first day I was given one as a young kid I had used it just to vent. If I was angry, I would batter the shit out of it – not literally, but I’d play it so harshly that the strings had been known to snap. If I felt creative, I’d create. If I felt contented, I’d play the songs quietly, focussing on getting them just right. There was a never-ending list of ways I could link my guitar to myself as a person, that’s why it hurt when my dad took my guitar away from me. I had no outlet, no way to vent; I just had to keep it bottled up.

Feeling my newfound optimistic attitude slowly taking over my body once more I played my songs with an edge of perfection to them. I tried to get every chord and note spot on, but when I made occasional slip ups I didn’t mind, whereas I had often been known just to start all over again. It was mind over matter, believe with a positive attitude and soon you would genuinely have the attitude. No matter how much I believed I could do this, I couldn’t offer a denial to saying my heart sunk at the incoming interruption.

"Shut up!" I heard called from next door. I chose to ignore him, playing the guitar as I was before his rudeness, only to hear it repeated.

I put the guitar down, not caring if I damaged it. After all, it was his guitar and he was causing me to stop. I practically marched down the hall to his room, walking straight in and finding him sprawled out on his own bed reading a comic book. He met me with a frown before telling me to get out. Just as before, I ignored him.

"There’s a difference between staying away from each other and going out of your way to be a dick," I snapped, folding my arms as I glared down at him.

"There’s a difference between being a child and an adult Frank," he smirked, glancing briefly up with a hint of smugness.

"Says the twenty something who’s sitting reading comic books?" I grinned, knowing he would not take kindly to the statement.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he frowned, putting his comic book carefully down before standing up and walking over to me. "There’s nothing wrong with comic books, they’re like my release."

"Yeah, and music is mine, playing guitar is mine," I replied, frowning up at him as he drew closer. "Didn’t seem to bother you a few minutes ago though. Adults are apparently mature, I’m not sure why you used that line, you’re more immature than me man so it seems a pointless lecture."

"I’m not the immature one," he glared, pushing me with a hint of force into the wall behind me. It stung slightly but I wasn’t going to let on, I just continued to shoot an evil stare his way. "At least I get on with my family, I’m past the stroppy teen stage."

"You sound proud," I smirked. "Twenty something and still living with his parents. Didn’t you ever have dreams? Or are they all just in these four walls? Very mature. Very ’out there’."

"I have dreams," he replied quietly, not removing his gaze from mine but dropping his defences slightly. "I’d love to be out of here, I’d love to be seeing the world. We don’t always get what we want Frank, things don’t always work out how we’d like them to."

"But they’re not going to happen if you just stay in these four walls," I frowned, looking briefly around me before locking my gaze back on his. "You’re too wrapped up in the lives of others and forgetting about your own," I continued sharply as he tried to interrupt me. "Don’t interrupt, let me say this seeing as I didn’t get much chance to talk."

He nodded feebly before losing the anger in his expression, remaining close to me as I continued.

"I never knew what was going on with you because of me," I began, trying with all my might not to let the awkwardness with and cause me to look away. "But in all the years I’ve known you as Mikey’s big brother, I’ve never known you to do anything or want to do anything. I don’t know what you want in life, or any of that but what I do know is you did something seriously stupid over what’s going on in mine. I don’t want to be part of the reason you are still here, reading your comic books in the same room for god knows how long. You made it clear you want nothing more to do with me, but I’m telling you now do something for yourself and stop getting hung up on others."

"What we want isn’t what we get," he muttered, looking awkwardly away from me.

"Well how do you know if you don’t try?" I pressed, my anger draining further from me as I saw him look down thoughtfully at my words. I felt him move slowly closer and I didn’t know whether my take of this situation was to be seen as good or bad. I backed fully against the wall as he moved slowly closer. The moment his lips brushed mine I pushed him back, gaining a look of shock from him in response.

"That was not what I meant," I frowned. "I meant like a real fucking dream Gerard. You said you want nothing to do with me, and I’m giving you exactly that."

I walked out of his room and returned to Mikey’s. I picked up the guitar before returning to the other siblings room and gave him his guitar harshly back, ignoring his apologies.

"I thought it was your release?" he questioned, eyeing the guitar sceptically as he glanced at me.

"Well maybe I need a new start here too," I frowned before walking out and closing the door behind me. It was to be a night of shitty television for me after all.