My Angel.

Gerard’s POV

“What the fuck?!”

I pulled away from Frankie and spun round, to see Mikey, mouth open and a look of shock on his face, standing in the doorway.

“Oh fuck…” I breathed

“I-um-I-think-I’ll-um-go…yeah-bye-Mikey-um-yeah-um-bye.” Frank stuttered under his breath and practically sprinted out of the kitchen. We both watched him leave in silence. Then, as soon as we heard the front door slam, Mikey started on me.

“Dude! What are you doing? Seriously. What the hell?”

“I don’t know. It just kinda… happened I guess.” I sighed, slumping into a chair.

“Do you like him?”

“What do you think?” I asked sarcastically. I sounded snappier than I meant to.

“Sorry man. I was only asking…”

“Yeah I know. Sorry Mikes.” I rested my head on the table, “It’s just… oh god. Never mind.”

“Okay… well… I have to go Gee. I only came back for a spare string… mine broke.” Mikey moved over to me, “It’ll be okay. I know it will.” He hugged me and walked off. I heard the front door slam and then his car starting up. I listened to the faint drone of his engine as he drove away down the street as I felt the delayed wind that had seeped into the house when he opened the door.

“How do you know?” I whispered into thin air.

Three hours later…

The phone is ringing. Fuck it. Why should I get up.

The answering machine cut in.

“Gerard? It’s Mikey. You had better not be getting drunk…” I shook my head, that kid knows me too well, “I was just calling to tell you we’re going out after practice… I won’t be home till late. Sorry. Don’t do anything stupid, I’m worried about you dude. Just… talk to Frankie. And Gee?” he paused, “Put down the Vodka.” There was a click and I looked at the half empty bottle of Russia’s finest in my hand. How can he know…?

I put it down. Even in my drunken haze I could see me ever responsible younger brother had spoken a lot of sense. I had to speak to Frank.

I pulled on a shirt and shoved my feet into my scuffed up Vans. I slowly climbed upstairs, grabbing my leather jacket on the way, and stepped out into the cold Jersey air, leaving the door half open behind me.

As I reached Frankie’s house, the full effects of the Vodka were starting to take effect.

Well it’s now or never…

I picked up a stone and chucked it at Frank’s window. By some miracle, it actually hit the glass. I chucked a handful more, a few of which hit the window.

I saw his beautiful face come to the window and look around a bit. He looked down at the garden and saw me. Then he disappeared.

I sat down on the grass and started to sob. He regretted kissing me. I knew it.

I felt arms around me and looked up to see him staring at me, sadness in his eyes. “Gee…” he whispered, “Please don’t cry…” he begged, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. This just made me cry even more.

He pulled me into him, so I was sitting on his lap, and started to rock me gently, slowly. His warm arms were wrapped tight around my body, strong but delicate hands stroking my back and hair. I leant my head on his shoulder and sniffed deeply.

“Fr-Fr-Frankie, I’m sssssory abou-out earlier. I sh-shouldn’t have k-kissed you.” I stuttered through tears.

I felt a hand pulling my chin up, so I was looking him in the eye. “Gerard. If I hadn’t wanted you to kiss me, why would I have kissed you back?” He asked.

“I guess…” I wiped my eyes. “But. I don’t know why you would want to kiss me. I mean… I fucked up. I am fucked up. I gave up drinking and drugs and all that shit for you, and then what do I do tonight? I go and get drunk and totally ready to inject Frankie. Inject. And you’re so… perfect. Why would you want me?”

“Because. You’re kind and you’re loyal. You’re beautiful. You’re funny and you’re trustworthy and you’re talented. But most of all Gee, you’re you. You don’t give a shit about what people think of you and just live life the way you want to live it. I wish I could be like that.” I looked at him, “And by the way, I am by no means perfect.” He giggled sadly.

We sat there, him still rocking me softly, for about ten minutes.

“I love you Frankie.” I blurted out. SHIT. He let his arms drop from around me and stared at me. “I… um… sorry!” I stood up and started to run. I didn’t know where. Anywhere. It didn’t matter, because I had just ruined whatever it was that I could have had with Frankie.

I ran. And ran. And ran. Eventually I realised I’m not in the best shape and Belleville isn’t the sort of place you’d want to be out alone in at night, so I slowed down to a halt and looked around to work out where I was.

Outside the church.

How ironic.

Well at least I know where I am now. And how to get home again.

I turned around and started to walk, trying to block out all my unwanted thoughts.

After about 45 minutes walking, I was finally home.

I walked in through the still open front door, went downstairs and got into bed without even taking my shoes off.