Arrangements

We were all at a local Denny’s later that night. I was feeling a little on the tired side, so I just ordered a coke and some fries. Frank and I sat side by side in the round booth, while Gerard sat on Frank’s right, and Bob was on my left; Mikey was next to Bob and Ray was next to Gerard. Worm had went to the counter, he had some private business to attend to, and we didn’t ask him what it was; our driver was drinking a coffee at the counter too, the poor man looked so tired and lonely. I felt for him.

“So, Stormy…” Frank tilted his head towards me, “Tell us more about this fetish you have.”

I blushed, “Life long fetishes discussed in a family restaurant…cute.” I rolled my eyes an sipped at my coke.

“Hey, no one else is askin’, but I know they’re thinkin’ it.”

I looked at each of them, curious eyes –except Gerard- met me.

“I had a crush on David Bowie growing up, then it moved onto Robert Smith…then Shirley Manson—“

“Wait,” Mikey said with a chuckle, “Shirley Manson? Like from Garbage?”

I nodded, “Yes, Michael, girls can like other girls too.”

“Holy shit,” Bob said with a wide grin, “Where the fuck did you come from?”

“New Jersey.” I muttered, taking a sip from my coke.

“I like you,” Frank said with a giggle, “If I wasn’t so into your sister, I would totally—“

“Dude,” Mikey said, motioning towards Gerard.

“Gerard doesn’t care,” Frank nudged Gerard –who was balls deep in some comic-, “Do you Gee?”

Gerard looked up, “Care ‘bout what now?”

Frank grinned, “See.”

Gerard rolled his eyes and went back to reading.

I took another long sip of my coke, “Have you ever been with a chick?” Ray asked, finally speaking.

I shook my head, “No. I don’t desire them sexually. I find intelligence and charisma attractive, like I said. The sex of the other isn’t a big deal.”

I saw Gerard smile, his eyes flicked over at me for the moment; I pretended I was looking at Ray, really I was gazing at him.

“So, this whole religious thing…” Ray started, “you’re not afraid to sin or whatever?”

I chuckled, “You don’t know a thing about my sins.”

Gerard’s head shot up, “What did you just say?”

I raised my brow, “You don’t know a thing about my sins.” I repeated.

His brows furrowed, confused and fascinated, “That’s…that’s really clever.”

“My dad says it.” I told him.

“Oh.” He turned back to his comic.

“Okay, enough about religion,” Bob nudged me, “more of this girl talk.”

I rolled my eyes, “As I said before, I don’t fantasize about women.”

“What do you fantasize about?” Bob challenged.

I smirked at him, my comfort zone was being pushed, tested, “Something you’ll never ever hear, Bryar.”

Mikey laughed, Bob turned from me, and I smiled, “She got you, dude!”

I shook my head and hugged Bob, “I’m just messing with you, Bob.”

He gave a fake laugh, “Ha-ha, I know.”

“You forgive me?” I asked him.

He nodded, “Yeah, I know you were just fucking with me.”

As everyone else seemed more relaxed around me, there was that undeniable force of ignorance that surrounded Gerard. He didn’t seem interested in talking to me, even though he had asked me to come along, after he had said we should get to know each other more. The guy confused me to no end, and I was eager to hear what Mikey needed to tell me.

When we all settled back into the bus, Frank, Ray and Bob went to their bunks collectively. I was bit on the tired side, but I felt the need to sketch. I sat at their small dinette table and pulled out the new sketch book I had bought before I arrived. Mikey was finishing up a phone call, and headed towards his bunk, and Gerard was lying on the lounge sofa a few feet from me.

“I’ll talk to you in the morning, Storm.” Mikey patted my shoulder before he disappeared.

“Night Mikey.”

“Night.”

I found myself sketching away at Gerard. I mean, he was just lying there on the sofa, arm draped over his face and breathing evenly. I wondered if he was asleep or just lying there. The whole bus was quiet, except for the sound of the massive bus moving and my pencil scraping at the paper.

“What’re you doing?” Gerard asked, still unmoved from his position on the couch.

I stopped my pencil and looked over at him, “I’m drawing.” I told him.

“What are you drawing?”

“You.” I swallowed hard, realizing what I had done.

He sat up, arms falling to his sides, “Me.” He stated, looking me over with smudged red eyes and disheveled hair.

God, why was this man so fucking attractive.

“Yeah…I just saw you lying there…” I trailed softly.

He got up and walked over to me, he leaned in, looking over my shoulder. He didn’t make a sound as he took the drawing from my hands and took my pencil. I grew scared as he began to scribble something.

“I’m sorry, please don’t—“ He tossed the book on the table.

I looked down and saw that he scribbled You Don’t Know A Thing About My Sins. I looked up at him with a confused look; he brought his hand up and brushed my eyebrows back into place.

“You thought I was fucking it up, didn’t you?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I did.”

He smiled tiredly, “I like it. Sign it for me, please.”

A gentle, comforting feeling washed over me, “Really?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

I was weary though, “You aren’t gonna make fun of me or something?”

He smiled devilishly at me, “Or something?”

“Well…y’know, let’s be honest—“

“Yes, let us be honest. Do you have a thing for Bob?” He questioned me quickly, he sat across from me in one swift movement.

“No.” I said quickly, “He’s very nice, but…”

“He doesn’t get you hot like I do.”

My eyes grew wide, “Gerard—“

“Gee.” He said.

“Gee? What?”

“Call me Gee. I prefer it.” He seemed so relax, a quiet cool took over his demeanor.

“Gee, Bob is very sweet and nice guy, I just have a type.”

“Me.” He stated as he had previously.

“No, not you per se…”

He smirked, “Let me tell you something, sugar, I don’t plan on fallin’ for you, so you can get that little thought out of your pretty little head.”

My stomach sunk, and it was like someone dumped cold water over my entire body.

“Gerard, I don’t expect you to “fall” for me. I know this is just an agreement…I thought we could be friends—“

“We can’t. I have enough of those already.”

It hit me that Gerard was as cold as he looked. He was one of those cute, dark guys in school, who only went for the equally, cold dark sluts. So, maybe there was a slight chance I wanted him, but he made it clear that he didn’t want me…ever.

“Alright. Then why did you ask me to come along?”

He shrugged, “To please my mom. That’s what we’re doing right? Pleasing our parents.”

It was as if he was throwing this all in my face. He was hurting me on purpose because I was hurting him. I tweaked my lips, and nodded, “Yeah, that’s what we’re doing.”

I looked at my sketchbook and wondered if he was still playing with me. I turned the page over, signed my name nicely, the date June 3rd, and the time 12:23 am, and looked at him.

“I want it.” He said as if he read my thoughts, “Fan art is my favorite.”

Again, he was making it apparent that he was hurting me.

I gave him a hard smile, “Hope it fits the growing collection.” I told him softly.

I ripped it out my book, nearly ripping it in half, and left it on the table. I went down to my bunk, climbed in and put the book under my pillow. I didn’t cry, because what use was that? I’ve been treated like shit before, what would be the point in crying over something so familiar? I was through crying over jerks.