Paint It Black

My phone rang loudly, in the morning, and inside of my purse. I groaned loudly, trying to drown it out, but reached for it. I opened my eyes, looking at the screen; it was mom.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself, and answered, "Hey."

"Sunny, where are you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm at Ty's."

She sighed, happily, "Oh good. When are you coming home?"

I looked at the digital clock on the night stand, "Uh...at 10."

"Okay, see you."

"See you."

I hung my phone, put it on the stand and coursed my hair, getting my fingers tangled in the Bobby pins. I pulled them out and got out of the bed, and to the bathroom.

I grabbed the Tylenol and a glass of water, from the sink and brought it to his bedside. Tyler rolled over, shielding the light from his eyes, and squinting at me.

"It's too early," he groaned at me.

"I know, but I gotta go, and someone has to give me a ride," I sat by his feet as he sat up.

"I'm gettin' up," he sighed, "let me drink this and wash my face, okay?" I nodded and watched him swallow the pills, down the water, then head to the bathroom; "Some of your sweats are still in my dresser," he called out.

I looked down at myself, I was still in his shirt, "Oh, thanks," I chuckled.

I went to his dresser, pulling out the middle one, the one use to be mine, and felt around. A lot of old t-shirts, shorts and pajama bottoms were inside. I pulled out a light grey pair, and slipped them on. I picked up my dress from the floor, grabbing my heels as well, and put them beside me on the bed.

Tyler came back in, a pair of my old flats were in between his fingers, tooth brush in his mouth, "You're a savior," I joked reaching for them.

He shook his head, a little amusement plastered on his lips, "Wel-come," he muffled with foamy paste in his mouth.
-

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Tyler said as he stopped at a red light.

"What?" I looked back at him, his eyes meeting mine.

"Was that your Frank?"

I tugged at my lip, "Uh..."

He looked back at the road as the light turned green, "Don't lie to me, Sunny," he pressed.

I nodded, slowly, "Y-yeah," I admitted, "it was him."

He pressed his lips again, "How do you feel?"

I groaned, looking out the window, "You sound like my therapist," I snapped, a little.

"I just want to know if you're okay."

"I'm fine."

He stopped at another light, "You talked to him, seemed normal, why are you upset?"

I looked at him, "Because, I hate when people ask me 'How do you feel?' like I'm suppose to spill my guts and say that I'm angry or something."

He pressed the gas, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head again, "I hate seeing a therapist," I added, "I took this trip for a reason."

He nodded, "I know, I was just checking. I don't want you to freak out about him and leave me."

I chewed at my lip, "I'm not going to leave you, Ty."

He looked over at me, gave me a small smile, and turned back to the road.
-

I showered, dressed down, and ate lunch. Mom and Chris had left, going to some golf thing, again. I didn't mind, things were awkward when we were all alone. 

I had decided to paint something, mainly to help the pills swarm my body. I felt so antsy after I took them, and I needed to release some energy. I went down to the basement, there Chris had let me turn it into a dark room and paint studio. I don't know why he let me, but he did, he's such a cool guy.

I stood a blank canvas up, getting the messy paints, from months before, and a mason jar full of water. I didn't have any idea what to draw, as usual, so I put on my iPod, and began to stroke circles.

I hummed along to Rooney, another band I had become obsessed with. I had met them, for a shoot with Spin, and they were all pretty cool guys. I love going to their shows, they were so mellow. I put on their album Calling The World.

Time had passed by quickly, I didn't even notice, until the album was over and Chris was calling my name. I leaned away from the canvas, darken with crooked swirls and strikes, and looked up the basement stairs.

"You have a visitor," Chris smiled down at me, his silver hair danced in the light above.
"I'm coming," I said, putting the paint brush into the mucky water.

I quickly dashed up the stairs, meeting eyes with Mikey and Chris. My anxiety grew when I saw him, and rubbed my neck, "Oh, hey."

"I'll leave you, kids. Your mom and me are leaving for another game." Chris pat my shoulder, then Mikey's and left.

"How did you know where I was staying?" I asked, walking towards the kitchen.

"Pete told me," he answered.

I shook my head, crossing my arms, "What's up?"

"I came to see you," he started, leaning against the counter, "you weren't answering your phone."

I tapped my forehead with my palm, "Shit, it's on my dresser," I cursed, "sorry, Mikey, it's just I get really antsy and lost when I paint."

He nodded, "You wanna get some late lunch with me? It's just us."

I shrugged, "Sure, why not? Just let me change."
-

Mikey and I went to this little diner near the boardwalk. He and I walked there, and he told me about what he and the guys had been doing; Gee had a baby girl last year, Bob had left the band earlier this year, they took a short break, and were now writing and recording their new album. Weirdly enough we didn't talk about Frank. 

I would catch him looking at me, smiling and eying.

"You look so different," he chuckled.

"Thanks, I guess?" I turned up the corners of my lips, confused.

"It's just, you drink coffee and smoke now...the tattoos and your hair, the way you dress. If I hadn't seen your face, I wouldn't believe you were my Sunny."

I tweaked my lips, "Look at you, dude! You have blonde hair now."

He smirked, "My hair isn't that blonde."

"It looks blonde to me, I mean, I remember you having jet black hair, and you looked like a bad ass."

"I needed to change it up," he shrugged, sipping at his ice tea, "So, tell me, how long have you been seeing that Tyler guy?" 

I raised my brow at how fast he jumped in about Tyler, "We aren't a couple -we were- but aren't anymore."

He shook his head, "How long have you known him?"

"Over a year."

We were silent for a moment, sipping our drinks. 

"What have you been doing...y'know since we last saw each other."

I sighed, "Uh...I became an assistant to this camera guy, Jack, he's the coolest person ever," I chuckled, "I went to CSU for about two months before I dropped out, went on a few tours..." I trailed, remembering what happened after. I swallowed hard, "I came to California for a bit, met Tyler, then went back to Chicago."

Mikey eyed me again, knowing I was hiding something, "Anything else?" he questioned.

I twitched my lips, "No," I lied.

He smirked at me, "There's something else, just tell me."

I sighed, heavily, "Okay, but you cannot repeat a word to Frank."

He nodded, "I promise."

I exasperated, again, "I was...pregnant, Mikey," I chewed at my lip nervously, "I had a miscarriage...I was 7 months along. I had his name picked out, Butcher and Jack helped me paint his nursery," I rambled quickly, "I was so excited...I was happy, I couldn't wait to give birth to him," a swell of tears invaded the back of my eyes, "I was going to name him Sage, this cute name I stumbled on...it was perfect." tears slid down my cheek slowly.

"I'm--I'm sorry Sunny," he caressed my hand, "was he Frank's?" I nodded, "I'm sorry."

I swallowed hard, "I felt him kick...I was going to tell Frank, too, but time passed and it was too late," I sobbed softer, spilling my guts to Mikey.

He got up, releasing my hand, and sat beside me, wrapping his arm around me. I held my hands in front of me as Mikey hugged me. The crying came so naturally, it was like the tears were waiting for this moment.

"I wish I could have been there for you," he muttered to me, "I'm so sorry."

I sniffled, wiping my eyes, "I'm better, but I miss him, even if I never got to hold him," I wiped my eyes.

"Is that why you came to California?"

I nodded, "My mom forced me, then forced me to go to a therapist and take pills."

"Are you still on the pills?"

"Yes, and I see a damn therapist, too."

"How did you meet Tyler?"

"Shoot for Panic at the Disco, his cousin is the lead singer, Brendon."

He nodded, "He looks special to you."

I blushed, "He is, Mikey, he's amazing to me."

"Was it okay that I talked to you last night?"

I smiled at him, "Of course, Mikey, I missed you!"

"I wasn't thinking last night, I just wanted to hug you," he grinned back, "I had totally forgotten about the letter."

"I had nearly forgotten, too," I spoke softly, "I hope you guys weren't too mad about it."

He shook his head, "We weren't, we missed you, but we decided to respect your wishes."

"Thanks for that Mike, I really appreciate everything." 

He nodded, "You should talk to Frank next."

I raised my brow, "Why?"

"Because, he misses you and he has something important to tell you."

I was growing confessed, "Like what?"

"You have to ask him."