Forever & Always.

In many ways Oisín reminded me of a child, much younger than his actual sixteen years. His emerald eyes gazed in amazement at his surroundings. His emerald eyes gazed in amazement at his surroundings as we sat on the train to Dublin. He looked so innocent. I was glad that, despite what he had been through recently, he had not lost that childlike awe.
As we disembarked at Tara Street Station he gripped my hand tightly, afraid of getting lost in the teeming crowds/ during the week he had told me how he rarely got to visit Dublin, and when he did, he was never able to look around, always rushing from one place to the other. I hadn’t questioned what he had meant because by then his eyes had taken on a faraway look and I knew better than to pry. He would tell me when he was ready.

“You wanna get something to eat?” I asked the young boy as I glanced at the time on my phone. “We have time to get something quick. There’s an Eddie Rockets up the road, or a McDonald’s if you want.”

The brown haired boy shook his head, a shaky smile playing on his lips, “I…I’m too scared and nervous to eat.”

I smiled and nodded understandingly. My own stomach was doing backflips at the idea of meeting those five boys whom I had once known better than my own self. My fingers fumbled at the hem of the too-long Misfits t-shirt I had found at the back of my wardrobe. I was pretty sure the black shirt had once belonged to him – it certainly smelled of coffee and cigarettes – but I couldn’t be sure. Either way, it was comfy and I hoped it would help me blend in with the teenage fans that would no doubt take up a large percentage of the crowd. I didn’t want to stand out in anyway.

“C’mon,” Oisín pulled at my arm. “The meet and greet entrance is over here.”

As he dragged me over to the grubby side door and showed the security guard our passes I took the time to look at him. Really look at him. The young boy looked so happy, happier than I had ever seen him. His long brown hair fell around his face in a messy manner but he didn’t seem to car. His green eyes were alight with excitement and he gripped my hand so tight I feared he may cut off the circulation. In that moment it struck me how why I had been so quickly drawn in by Oisín. He was like an odd combination of both Fergal and Gerard. The emerald eyes that showed his true emotions even when he tried to hide them, and the way he would get hyper and say random things was s like Fergal that I was surprised I had never really noticed before. But, the intense look he got in his eyes when he was thinking, and the tight grip he had on my hand whilst he was excited reminded me so much of the Gerard I had once known.

He saw me staring at him and his hand came up and rubbed at his face self-consciously, "Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face?"

I laughed and shook my head, "No, you just remind me of someone I once knew. Someone who was important to me."

He arched and eyebrow and shook his head, laughing, "You're weird Ciara, but that's why I like you." He smiled at me, a huge grin that showed me his slightly crooked teeth, "You're awesome."

I reached out and ruffled his hair in a motherly way, "You're alright yourself kid."

The grin dropped off his face and he went serious as he mumbled, "Sometimes I wish you could be my mum."

The statement surprised me to say the least and I bit my lip as I tried to think of a way to reply to his out-of-the-blue statement. As I fumbled over words I was saved by a security guard who appeared to lead us to the room where we were to meet MCR. We entered the small room and all thoughts of what Oisín had said to me left my mind. Even if I had wanted to answer the teenager I would have been unable to form a coherent sentence because the sight before me had surprised me so much. This was not how I had expected them to appear. I was shocked to the core.

The five Jersey boys looked terrible. It was kind of a like a car crash, I wanted to look away but couldn't tear my eyes away from them as we stood in line behind the six other fans who were lucky enough to have meet and greet passes. It broke my heart to see those five men in such a state. Gerard was the first to catch my eye, mainly because he was the nearest to me and partly because, even after all this time, my eyes were drawn to him like he was the centre of my own personal universe. But, he was no longer the handsome raven-haired teen I had been madly in love with. His black locks hung in greasy curtains on either side of his face looking as if he hadn't seen water or shampoo in days, maybe even weeks. His skin, usually the same shade of porcelain white as a vampire's, had become a ghastly grey with light sheen of sweat across his face. He was a mess and I couldn't believe he had done his to himself. A security guard ushered me and Oisín forward. I took a deep breath before smiling at him.

"Hey," He mumbled almost incoherently, a drunken smile on his lips. "Thanks for coming."

He signed the poster Oisín had brought with him and posed for photos but I could tell that his heart wasn't really in it. He was bleary-eyed and, quite obviously, high. It was a shocking sight, one that made my heart ache. I had been expecting a shock at seeing him, but I hadn't expected him to look like road kill. He was literally falling apart at the seams.
I stepped forward and handed him my CD to sign - I had brought it so as to not stick out from the other, younger fans. His hand slid on the Sharpie as he scrawled 'G.WayXO across the cover.

"Thanks," I mumbled as he handed the case back, his sweaty hands leaving greasy fingerprints on the clear plastic box.

His eyes rose to meet mine and, like when we were teenagers, his hazel orbs knocked me breathless.

"You're welcome," He mumbled. Hi gaze moved down and a small smile graced his lips. For a moment he looked like my Gerard, the one from all those years ago. "Nice Shirt."

I returned his smiled and blushed a little, "Thanks."

Mentally I cringed at repeating myself. It looked like Gerard still had the same affect one me and could turn me into a babbling idiot with just one smile.

"Have a good night," He muttered, looking distracted and walked over to a cooler without even waiting for my reply.

After watching him for a moment as he cracked open a beer and downed it as if it were water I grabbed Oisín's hand and moved on to Bob and Mikey who were standing together. At first it was like a blast from the past, the tow quiet members of the group apart from the rest, talking about comics or something else equally geeky. It was only when I looked closer that I noticed differences in the two young men. Bob’s eyes were glazed over, lost in his own little world as he signed autographs on autopilot. There were dark, bruise-like shadows beneath his blue eyes and he looked too worn out to even attempt to perform later on.
Mikey didn’t look like he was faring much better. He was smiling at the few fans present and had no problem personalising Oisín’s autograph once he heard how big a Mikey fan he was, but I’d known the nerdy bassist long enough to pick up on the worry hidden in his brown eyes. Every few second he’d pull on his beanie or fix his thick rimmed glasses and I’d see him shoot a desperate look at his big brother, the guy who had once been his idol. It was hard to watch and Oisín and I moved on fast, I couldn’t stand to see Mikey – the closest thing I’d ever had to a little brother – fall apart from worry. It filled me with sorrow and all I wanted to do was hug him and tell him that everything would be okay, that I loved him. But that would just sound weird coming from someone he thought was just a random fan, so I moved on, before I could do something dumb like that. Ray was next and when I saw him I almost wanted to go back to watching Mike fall apart because it had to be better than the sight before me. If it weren’t for the curly mess he called hair sitting atop his head I wouldn’t have believe it was the same Ray Toro I knew. He was obviously following in Gerard’s footsteps. He was slumped against the wall and I could tell it was because he was too intoxicated to even stand unsupported. The entire sight made me feel ill. Ray had always been the most responsible of the group, sure he had his immature moments but he was the most mature of us all and we all relied on him at different times for advice. He wasn’t supposed to dumbs things like get wasted, he was supposed to be the one telling the others not to do stuff like that.
We didn’t stay long with Ray either, it was too heart-breaking to watch his self-destructive ways. Oisín didn’t seem to like it either and he pulled me by the arm to the last person left for us to meet. After the desperate appearance of the other four men, I wasn’t expecting much of Frank, so I was happy when I received a pleasant surprise. He stood confidently in the centre of the room, drawing attention to himself like he always had when we were teens. His messy black and blonde hair was stylistically messy and his eyes were red-rimmed, but due to eyeliner not alcohol. He was the same old Frankie and I was ecstatic to see that.

“Hey, have we met before?” He furrowed his brow and scrunched up his face in confusion.

My heart pounded erratically in my chest but I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know, have we?”

His eyes sparkled as he laughed and for a moment I almost hoped he had recognised me and would remember who I was. But then his focus moved on to Oisín and I knew there was no way he would remember me. I ran my fingers through my hair distractedly. It was now back to its natural shade of brown and not the extreme purple I had adored when I was younger. I had dyed it back after college, deciding it looked more professional. That, and Aidan didn’t like the purple, often saying it made me look like a child. I wondered if my hair was part of the reason Frank and the others could no longer recognise me, but I quickly dismissed that idea – it was obvious that they had just forgotten all about me. Unlike me, they had moved on.
Soon after we were escorted away from the backstage are to the front of the stage where we would watch the concert. As we left the room I looked back at the five famous men I had once been lucky enough to call my friends. They stood apart, all looking lost, all falling apart in different ways. It’s true what they say: time changed people, and best friends can become strangers.