My Pathetic Romance

Name: Michael James Way

Date of birth: September, 10 1996 (Age 15)

Place of birth: Newmark, New Jersey

Cause of death: Hanging, suicide.
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Frank Iero’s P.O.V.

“Let us commend Michael James Way to the mercy of God. We enter this world with nothing and leave with nothing. We therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust: in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life.” The old bald, greying priest’s voice was monotonous and boring. I wasn’t listening to much of what he was saying, me nor Mikey cared for this bullshit.

Mikey would’ve been happy with somebody blasting Anthrax out in his honour, not these stupid overrated words that were said for every person buried. Really, it was lucky that his body could even be laid to rest here, since suicide’s considered a sin. But he was, is, still a kid, people make exceptions for that shit.

We were outside in the graveyard, gathered around a freshly dug grave, the sun shining brightly. There wasn’t a cloud insight for miles, much to my disappointment; I wanted it to rain, for cold water to pour down on all of these people, I wanted something to represent how I’m feeling. I want the sky to cry with me.

I’d lost my boyfriend, and now his brother, my best friend; it shouldn’t be fucking sunny!

Hot, angry tears streamed down my face silently, making me hiccup for air occasionally when I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. Why did he have to leave me?! How could he do this to his friend, and after his brother, my former boyfriend, had also committed suicide?! The poor boys mother! What am I thinking.. He did this because his brother wasn’t here, and I’m pretty surprised I hadn’t done it before him.

If I wasn’t so wrapped up in my own despair and self-loathing, I would’ve thought more about Donna Way, Mikey and Gerard’s mother. But I couldn’t, not right now, now while I’m trying to a find string of hope to cling to that’s going to show me how to live without the two most important people in my life. Things weren’t looking too good for me.

A Day In The Life Of Frank Iero’s Best Friend, Mikey Way

Mikey’s P.O.V.

I watched as my flawless brother run after Frank in the lazy evening summer haze, laughing as Frank giggled.

While running from Gerard, Frank jumped over a small brook that had high banks, successfully making it to the other side. Gerard, on the other hand, was not as light as our short-ass friend and crashed into the cold water; letting out a high-pitched yelp as the cold water soaked through his already skin tight jeans.

Frank and I fell about laughing, and while I was still at least ten feet away from them I could still see the shocked face of Gerard. Frank, being on the slippery bank of the brook and laughing like a maniac as his boyfriend had just thrown himself into the water, slipped.

This, caused a pained yelp from Gerard as the shorter boy landed on him, forcing him back into the shallow water and making him collide with the pebbles that lay beneath, Frank in turn gasping at the cold water.

I run over to them, just to make fun, obviously.

The sight, oh dear god the sight. I thought I might actually wet myself from laughing (some good ol’ need-to-know information for ya’). Oh my god, it was a hilarious sight to see them both soaking wet.. If a little hot. Speaking of such, they started making out.

“Geee” I whined, I didn’t want to watch this right now. I giggled to myself at the thought that I was basically saying that I’d perv later.

After being ignored by my brother I started on Frank, “Frankiiiiiiieeee” Ignored. Again.

“Gerard!”

“GERARRD!” I awoke suddenly, sitting bolt upright, sweat dripping from my skin and breathing fast.

I couldn’t take this mind-fuckery much longer, the dreams were driving me insane. Well, the dreams were okay, but the nightmares, they were terrible. Tonight hadn’t been a nightmare, but it still hurt and scared me. Gerard wasn’t here, and the thoughts of that I’d never see him again plagued everything I did.

Luckily, my mother hadn’t heard me this time, although she was probably still awake, crying over her lost son. Sighing, I pushed the thoughts of my mother out of my head briefly as my hand reached over to my bedside cabinet and blindly searched for my phone.

Once I felt the cold object, my fingers clasped it, bringing it in-front of me. Squinting my eyes I prepared for the light that was about to erupted as soon as I flipped my phone open to check the time.

4:30 am.

I thought about calling Frank, to tell him about my dream; I know he’d love what had taken place, but I also knew that it would make him hurt even more. He didn’t deserve that, I didn’t want to cause him any more pain than he was already going through.

But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to talk to him, I wanted to talk about Gee, reminisce the old times. I wanted to tell him about how I’m still so scared, that my mind wont leave me alone and I feel like I’m going crazy, that I need somebody, anybody to tell me that it’s all going to be okay, even if they‘re lying. But I couldn’t, not this early in the morning. He was probably awake though, just like me and my mother; his mind probably wouldn’t let him sleep.

Sighing again after ten long minutes of debating with myself, I pressed a button on my phone, causing it to light up again. My the time that my eyes has slowly adjusted, I had already starting dialling Frank; it seems that I’ve called him so many times recently while my vision was blurred with tears that I didn’t need to be able to see to do it, it just became habit.

Holding the phone up to my ear, I heard Frank’s croaky voice come through the small device, he’d been crying just like I had suspected.

I heard him sniffle on the other end.

“H-hello Mikey-y”

“Frank, I.. I need to talk to somebody.. I need you” I scrubbed the newly forming tears from my eyes with my free hand, determined not to cry just yet. Crossing my legs and leaning forward with my elbows on my knees I tried to steady my breathing, tried not to sound so desperate.

After a long pause, I finally heard him speak again, barely in a whisper.

“C-come over, Mikey”

I was quiet for a few moments, then hung up the phone.

This had happened many times since Gerard’s death a few months ago; one calling the other up at some ungodly hour, sneaking into their house, seeking comfort and forgetfulness. I quickly tried to forget the memory of the few times that Frank had come over here, and we’d both slept in Gerard’s bed together, just his smell making us feel closer to him. In those times I’d fall asleep to the wishful thinking that Gerard would walk into his bedroom and see us, laugh that laugh of his that sounded like music and tell us to quit being so ‘friendly’. It never happened though, he never walked in.

I dropped my phone in-front of me onto my bed, putting my face in hands and letting out a shaky breath along with a sigh, rocking my body back and forth gently.

-

After I’d eventually got up and chucked on some old clothes I wondered downstairs. Under any other circumstances I would’ve watched my footing to make sure that I didn’t tread on the squeaky steps. Gerard an I had once discussed that our parents had possibly purposely made the steps squeaky so that they would know if we were sneaking out at any time, convinced that we’d be up to some sort of conspiracy.

But I’d stormed down these stairs at every time imaginable after Gerard’s passing, my mother not stopping me, we both knew that there was no point.

I peered my head around the banisters as I sat on the second from bottom stair and pulled my worn out black converse onto my feet, and the sight didn’t surprise me. I could see part of my mother, her now fragile-looking body hunched over the table, nursing a glass of some for of alcohol no doubt.

With out any other thoughts, I stood up as soon as I’d finished tying my laces and walked towards the front door. I opened it then closed it quickly behind me, making more sound than I originally intended. I didn’t need to say anything to my mom, she either knew where I was going or didn’t, she probably wasn’t in the state to care. Hell, she probably couldn’t even remember her own name at this point in time.

I started to walk at what could be considered a calm pace to begin with, but it rapidly grew quicker until I was running to Frank’s house.

-

It didn’t take long to get there considering that he doesn’t live too far away and I was running. I was soon standing out side of his house, looking at his window. His light wasn’t on, but it rarely was. I allowed my mind to wonder for the shortest amount of time, thinking about how many times Gerard had probably done this; sneaked out of the house to come see Frankie in the dead of night, climbed onto the fence at the side of the Iero’s home and gently jumped onto the small platform outside Frank’s window and slipped himself inside and into the slightly younger mans arms. I then, thought of how many times I’d done it, wondered if I’d done it more times than my brother, wondered if Gerard was watching me every single time from where he was now.

And, as all those times before, I climbed that aging brown fence, lightly landed on the platform outside of Frank’s window and knocked gently on the glass. The window then opens, like every other time before. I nearly fall at my eagerness to be inside the building and Frank catches me just before I land with a loud thud and wake his mom up, like every time before. I then silently thank him by pressing my lips to his after I’ve composed myself. And, just like every time before, both our tears find their way into our kiss, tainting something that was never going to be okay.

We both silently cried, but that doesn’t make us stop, we don’t know what else to do. And, I know, that I shouldn’t do this to Frank, to Gerard, but I still don’t stop, because I don’t know what else to do.

-

I awoke with a numb feeling, like every morning. I awoke with Frank’s arms tightly around my hips, and, like every other time before that that had happened, I kiss his hair and for a moment he smiles in his sleep. I may be skinnier than Gerard, but I know that in the dark and when he’s asleep that’s who Frank pretends I am. And in a cruel, sick and twisted feeling deep down inside of me, I sometimes pretend he’s my big brother.

But this was all this morning, and now it’s 1pm and I’m at home, in the basement. I stand on a box and close my eyes, thinking about things I haven’t allowed myself to think of in what feels like almost forever; the happiness this house used to contain, the times where this house was a home, and times where Gee would wrap his arms around me and tell me ‘it gets better’ whenever I felt like shit.

My thoughts then fell upon Frankie, my best friend. I think about the way we touch, the way we look at each other, the way that we both loved my brother, and I smile. And then, I again think about what I had walked in on that few months back, and I kick the box away.

-

“It’s okay, m’am, just breathe.. Breathe..” The officer spoke softly to the middle aged woman, who was finally sober. She’d returned home that afternoon shortly after 2pm to tell her youngest, only remaining, son that she was going to get help. She was going to get better.

But she’d looked through the house and couldn’t find a trace of Mikey, she then realised that she hadn’t checked the basement. Not that she saw much point in doing so, she knew that both of her sons never ventured down there.

She walked down the stairs gently, knowing that she was wasting her time; no on ever went down here.

And then, collapsing to the cold concrete floor with a heart-stopping scream she found Michael James Way. And the funny thing is, for a moment, she called her eldest son to help her.

But he never came.