Paint It Black

"How are you?" Mikey asked, as we sat across from them.

"I'm good," I rubbed my neck nervously.

"How come you never told me you knew Mikey?" Pete asked, passing a rum and coke to me.

"I...uh, it was a few years ago," I mumbled, sipping at the little red straw placed in the drink.

"Me and Sunny go back," he smiled at me.

I couldn't keep my eyes on him, I felt so awkward and, slightly, embarrassed.

"Did you guys date or something?" Brendon asked, who was seated on Mikey's left, "Kinda looks that way."

We both shook our heads, "We're just friends," he said.

"What about Frank?" Pete joked, giving me a playful glance.

I felt more heat, because Tyler was sitting beside me, and he knew about Frank. He knew everything, names and all, but not that Frank was a musician or that he was in MCR.

"No, we didn't," Frank muttered quickly.

I sipped my drink quicker, wanting as much liquor in my system as possible. 

Tyler swung his arm around me, "Slow down," he chuckled, "you'll drown."

I looked up from the auburn liquid and met eyes with Frank; he and I were face to face, seated at the end of the table. His eyes were even more beautiful than I remembered, and his skin was smooth and flawless. I bit my lip, noticing his hair was much longer, too, and his arms were covered in more tattoos.

"I like your tattoo," he finally said, breaking my thoughts, "nice Frankenstein."

I looked at him, again, "Thanks." I managed to utter.

I quickly looked at Tyler, who was now in a conversation, about some new band, with Pete and a few other guys I didn't know.

"Do you have anymore?" 

I looked at him again, "Oh...uh, yeah," I raised my left arm, showing him my outlined elephant, "I have bats up my sternum, this ship up my side and this skull on the back of my neck," I quickly pulled my hair back and showed him.

"Didn't it hurt?" he asked, talking as if we were long time friends, "Doesn't it make the back of your knees sweat?"

I nodded, reeling in, "Yes!" I chuckled, remembering the feeling, "I shook the entire time, and Butcher wasn't merciful on me."

He smiled at me, "You look good, Sunny," his eyes fluttered.

I tweaked my lips, "Thanks," I felt heated again.

Our conversation died, mainly because we all began to take shots; all except Brendon and Mikey. I didn't feel the need to drink, since I wasn't nervous anymore, but I took a few back.

By the time we were going, I was a little buzzed. Tyler was fully drunk, and I had to hold him up. Mikey and Frank followed out the table and to me.

"It was nice seeing you," Mikey said, engulfing me into a hug, "I can't wait to tell Gerard and Ray."

We let go, and I nodded, "How long are you guys here?"

"For a few months, actually, we're recording our new album."

"That's cool, maybe we could hook up later, I'm here all summer," the liquor was getting the best of me.

"Alright, give me your number."

I gave Mikey my number, gave him another hug, and then I turned to Frank. Tyler was talking, or rather slurring, to Brendon.

"I'll see you?" he asked hopefully.

I nodded, "Hug?" he chuckled and spread his arms out. I swept in and hugged him, breathing in that smell of cologne and cigarette smoke, along with a trail of vodka.

"Bye Sun," he mumbled softly, letting go.

"Bye."
-

I, along with Brendon, carried Tyler into their home. He was drunk off his ass, and was falling asleep. We entered his room, shuffling across the hardwood floor and tossed Tyler on the bed.

"Ugh, he's so heavy!" Brendon groaned and stepped back.

"Yeah, I know," I said, sitting beside Tyler.

"Goodnight, Sunny," Brendon waved to me. 

"'Night." I waved back and watched him walk out the room. 

I sighed, sat up and kicked my heels off. I went to Ty's closet and grabbed one of his t-shirts and slipped it over the dress, kicking the dress down my legs. I went back to the bed, turning off the light, and laid beside Tyler. I grabbed his legs, leaning in my knees and tossed his shoes off and pulled the folded blanket, at the end of the bed, over us.

I laid down, resting my head on the pillow. Ty's face was buried in the pillow, beside me, snoring softly. His features were a little twisted, but they were still adorable.

I ran my hand down the unshaded sides of his head, that was usually shaved bald, and I ran my fingertips to the Mohawk he had.

I couldn't think of what my life, now, would be like if I hadn't met him. It seems like forever ago that we met, it was only a little over a year. I met him, January '09, while shooting for Panic at the Disco's shows in LA; I had gotten the job, thanks to Pete. He was backstage, watching, along with me, and had struck up a conversation with me. I learned he's Brendon's cousin, and was getting into journalism. My first thoughts of him was how funny and handsome he was...and that Mohawk was so freaky.

He had asked me on a date, after the second show, and I accepted. I don't remember how long we dated before we made things official, but it was quite fast. 

I told him everything; Frank, the cheating, getting Marilyn pregnant, me losing my son, the therapist I saw, and the pills. He accepted all my baggage, he is an amazing person. But, even so, I compared him to Frank, and I hated that I did so. Tyler is too good for me.

We broke up near my 20th birthday. I had, had this weird breakdown, where I was feeling suicidal and like I was going insane. I hated feeling the way I was, around him, and I needed to go. I broke up with him, apologizing profusely, and moved back to Chicago. We talked, on the phone, and were friendly, but I always felt for horrible for leaving him the way I did.

"I love you, Tyler," I pecked his sleeping cheek, causing him to stir a little.

"I love you, too," he answered back, slurring.

I giggled, kissing his cheek and laying back in bed.