Get off the Ledge and Drop the Knife

My eyes fluttered open as I woke up to the morning light bursting through the windows. It took me a moment to realize where I was and why my butt was so sore. But when I did I smiled. I looked over to Frank, who was lying on his stomach, tangled in a mess of sheets.

My eyes fell to the tattoo below his neck on his back that I had never really noticed before. The words read “Keep the faith” and underneath it was a jack-o-lantern. I stared at it for a long time, taking in every detail of it. How delicate every letter looked. It wasn’t long until it was permanently etched into my mind.

Suddenly, Frank rolled over onto his back, moving the tangle of sheets with him. “Gerard?” I heard a sleepy voice mumble.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I said as I kissed his forehead and smoothed his messy hair.

“Morning,” he replied as he stretched his arms toward the headboard and groaned in relief.
“Have you been up long?”

“Don’t know. I lost track of time while staring at your tattoos.”

“Oh, well, do you like them?” he asked hopefully.

“I do,” I told him as I buried my lips into his neck. “Especially the Search and Destroy one.

That one’s sexy.” My lips tickled his neck and I knew he enjoyed it by the way his eyes fluttered shit.

“Mmm, thanks.”

“No, thank you for last night. It was the best first time anyone can ask for.” I removed my lips from his neck and lay on my side, resting my elbow on my mattress and my head in my hand. Frank mirrored my movements.

“I love you, Gerard.”

“I love you too, Frank.”

***

“Frank, look. Ellen DeGeneres wrote a book,” I yell-whispered to the next aisle of books. We were in the local bookstore, which was filled with only one copy of each title.

“Yeah, I read it,” Frank yell-whispered back. “It made me a lesbian. I only date girls now.”

“Is that right?” I asked as I walked from my aisle to his and snaked my arm around his waist from behind.

“Mmhmm.” He turned around and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Well, I guess I can make an exception for you.” His voice was low and filled with lust.

“I would hope you’d make an exception for me,” I whispered in the sexiest voice I could muster. I dove my lips into his neck and took a small piece of skin between my teeth. “After all, you took my virginity last night. And I love you.”

“Gerard!” I jumped and turned around quickly, nearly knocking Frank over in the process. I quickly grabbed Frank’s arm before he fell into a bookshelf and knocked it over. When I finally looked up to the source of my near heart-attack, I smiled.

The tall man in a snug Metallica shirt and boot-cut blue jeans made his way over to us. His converse-clad feet made small booming sounds as his weight shifted from one leg to the other. His smile was wide and genuine and his long, curly hair was a shade darker than I remembered.

“Ray!” I exclaimed as I released Frank’s arm and gave the man from my childhood a big hug.
“How are you?”

“I’m great,” Ray said as he ruffled my hair. He had a good twenty years on me. “And you?”

“Fantastic,” I told him, still smiling. Ray had owned the local music shop for as long as I could remember. My favorite part of visiting upstate was going to his shop and learning about the best bands in rock history.

“And who is this?” Ray asked as he peered over my shoulder, where Frank had chosen to hide.

I stepped to the side so Ray could see Frank clearly and snaked my arm around his waist yet again. “This is my boyfriend Frank,” I said proudly.

“Nice to meet you, Frank. I’m Ray, a life-long friend of Gerard.” Ray extended his right hand out to Frank, who shook it timidly. “Ah, yes, I knew Gerard when his boogers were his tastiest snack.” Frank giggled quietly while I turned beet read. Ray chuckled and ruffled my hair again. “Nice to see you back from the city. What brings you in?”

“Just wanted to show Frank the great outdoors.” I squeezed Frank closer to me. He’s from Jersey, too.”

Ray’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? And did he move to Manhattan, too?” Frank barely nodded. “I’m a Jersey native as well. You find that a lot of us escape to New York.”

“Well, New Jersey is like New York’s retarded little brother that they hide in the basement,” Frank mumbled. Ray and I burst into laughter so loud that we earned glares from other shoppers.

“You got that right, kid,” Ray said. “Oh, I almost forgot. Congratulations, Gerard. Marriage is a wonderful thing.”

I frowned. “Frank and I aren’t getting married.”

“I’m not talking about you two,” Ray said as if it was obvious.

“Who, then?” I was genuinely confused as to who he may have been talking about. I hadn’t heard any news of marriage lately.

Ray’s eyebrows rose in surprise, then he began chuckling. “Gerard, have you checked your e-mail lately?”

“No. I barely check it. It’s mostly spam mail,” I explained.

“Come check it,” Ray said as he began to weave his way out of the book store. Frank and I followed obediently.

Ray shoved his laptop at me as soon as we reached his office in his music shop. I signed into my e-mail after a few times of forgetting the password. After deleting a whole bunch of spam mail, my eyes fell to an E-vite invitation. Nervous, I clicked on it.

You are officially invited to the wedding of Michael Way and Alicia Simmons. Please join us as we display our sickly love for each other. Gifts will not be accepted.

My jaw dropped to the floor. Mikey was getting married? I wasn’t shocked that he didn’t tell me personally instead of by e-mail because Mikey was known to make choices and do things without telling anyone. Once, he even flew all the way to Portland, Oregon to see some band in concert, and he didn’t tell anyone. We all went into a huge panic because we thought he was dead. So, no, I wasn’t shocked that he didn’t tell anyone. I was just surprised that Mikey Way, the King of one-night stands, was getting married.

“Holy shit,” I finally said, once I got my jaw to close.

“Congratulations, man.”

***

“Gerard?” Frank’s small voice came from the passenger seat. “You’re driving kinda fast.”
I sighed as I realized that the speedometer showed that I was driving 80 miles per hour, 25 miles per hour above the speed limit.

“Sorry, Frank,” I muttered.

“Why did we have to leave so early? I was looking forward to getting to know the area,” Frank said in a voice that almost made me turn the care around because I felt so bad for him.

“I know. I’m sorry. I just want to see Mikey.”

“Are you mad at him?”

“No. I don’t have anything to be mad about. I just want to talk to him. To see what’s going on in his mind. Marriage is a serious thing and I want to make sure he understands that.”

“Okay.”

We were silent the whole ride back except for when we hit the dreadful New York City traffic on the West Side Highway.

That’s when I started cursing my head off and yelling at other drivers from the confinements of my car.