Downstairs

It was never going to be an ordinary day for me again. Ever since those people moved in downstairs, my life couldn't have been any worse.

I slammed my fingers down on the typewriter under my fingers when there came the slight strum of a guitar from the apartment downstairs. I don't know how the others in the building didn't care about this-this godawful noise that was constantly coming out from that apartment. What the hell did they think they were doing?

I stomped my foot against the wood flooring of my own apartment. The people in the apartment smacked the roof with something before one screamed out an apology. I didn't know any of their names. I didn't know what they did. I just knew that they were loudmouthed, annoying and the worst thing I had every experienced in my life.

My name is Gerard Way, and I'm an author. I liked to write. I had an editor, one I'd known since high school, and I had an offering publisher. I had deadlines to meet though. I had already missed two of them. Why? Because of those bumbling idiots in the apartment below mine.

I listened diligently as the men started to chatter before I heard one open the door and leave. The others started talking once again.

I haven't been able to sleep for such a long time. Last time I checked, it was two days I've gone without sleep. These goons were screwing me and my schedule up. They were fucking up my life.

Once again, I was scared of the loud noise of a drum from down below. I growled, biting my bottom lip to keep myself from screaming out like a monster. They were asking me to screw their shit up.

I guess I had to get out more. All work and no play makes Gerard a dull boy.

~*~

After a long day of typing up six chapters for my own story and talking to my editor, I laid down on my bed in an attempt to lull myself into a deep sleep. I felt my eyes droop over, and my thoughts clouded over into a bright dream.

But then again came that loud blaring of a guitar from the second floor and I cringed.

I would not say anything.

The men from down below spoke for a few minutes before another few chords rang out through the air. I hissed through my teeth. More laughter came from the apartment below.

I would not say anything.

One of the men cackled and something crashed. A hushed sound swept over them until one of them added a muffled comment and then a loud laugh. The door opened and the one person was greeted with a loud cheer. I threw my blankets off of my body and started towards the door.

I had been nice enough. I didn't want to put up with this crap anymore.

I was never a very positive young man.

~*~

I brought my knuckles down on the door and the men inside hushed. The door handle jiggled, opening the door to show a black haired stranger standing behind it. I had a frown plastered on my face, arms crossed and narrowed eyes. The black haired man smiled with fake innocence.

"I'm sorry," I said harshly. "But I'm really trying to finish a book, and, well, your music is helping at all." I used 'music' loosely as it was really just loud blares of notes at a time.

"Nah, man. We're kind of loud anyways." The black haired one said. A blonde sat behind him on the couch, poking another one with curly and frizzy hair in the cheek. Another sat on a different sofa, fast asleep. Strewn across the apartment was garbage, soda, pizza cartons and instruments of all different sorts. "Sorry. We'll quiet down."

"Thanks." I said, but when I turned, the black haired one grabbed my shoulder.

"Hey man, stay for a drink or something. I mean, we'll be quiet, but you should take a break. I never see you leave your house much."

I shrugged his arm off of my shoulders, staring at the black haired one.

"I really can't. I have to finish this project. Maybe next time." As if there was going to be a next time.

"All right. Well, my name is Frank. Y'know, just in case you feel like being social any time soon."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I'm just saying that it doesn't hurt to get out every now and then." He smiled. I squinted my eyes at him and the others. "The two awake ones are Mikey and Ray. Bob's asleep."

"Mm." I acknowledged him. He crossed his arms and leaned himself against the doorway.

"You know, usually when a bunch of people introduce themselves to you, you tend to introduce yourself to them. It's called courtesy."

"My name is Gerard." I snapped. He raised his hands defensively while the two behind him snickered.

"All right, Gerard, no need to get snippy." I felt my upper lip curl up in a snarl, but I didn't make the growl in the back of my throat audible. The last thing I needed was another comment about my attitude.

"Honestly, it was nice to meet you all, but I just needed some quiet."

"We're sorry. We'll keep it down to a dull roar." Frank nodded. I turned my back on them before anything else could be said.

I tended to agree with Frank, even if I didn't know him. I didn't get out enough, but to be honest, it didn't bother me. It wouldn't bother me if people disappeared off the face of the planet. Just me and my words was all that mattered to me.

~*~

After a few week, the guys got loud again. I didn't mind it as much as I had before, especially since I had gotten a few days of good sleep, so I had no issues with the guys now. However, since my temper is very short, it only took a few good shouts from the guys below to piss me off. I closed my eyes and walked to my door. Maybe if I just knocked this time, they would get the idea.

I started down the stairs, the door to their apartment becoming more and more apparent as I walked toward it. I tapped my fingers on the door and the chatter completely stopped. There wasn't any hush, or even just a few murmurs. The talking stopped entirely.

I raised a brow and tapped again. No response. They weren't ignoring me, were they? I bit my bottom lip and jiggled the handle to the door just to see if they would respond. No noise.

I twisted the doorknob and opened the door to find the room completely empty. The floors were barren and clean, not as I had seen them before. I walked inside; there were no instruments strewn across the rooms. No garbage was laying around and the room was near spotless.

A woman walked by the room out in the hall and I ran out of the door, tapping her shoulder.

"Excuse me? Have you seen a black haired man around here, kind of short? He knew a bunch of other guys, there was no way you could miss them." I asked. She furrowed her brows together.

"Do you know their names? I'm better at names...."

"There was Frank, Ray, Bob and Mikey, I think." I said, digging through the memories of when I first met Frank. The woman's body stiffened and she peered at me with cautious eyes.

"Y'know, I've been living here for a long time, sir. Almost 15 years. You've only been here for the past year, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Then I don't understand how you know those names." She said. I threw my hands down at my side.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Frank, Mikey, Bob and Ray were old residents here. They were here maybe nine years ago, sir."

"What? No way! I just saw them a few weeks ago!"

"They were killed in a burglary, sir." She said. My breaths caught in my throat and I stared at the woman dead in her eyes. She was serious. "It was very sad. They were just joking around when a couple of gang members ran in. They demanded all their money, but when Frank wouldn't give it to them.... Well, I just remember clearly hearing some gunshots. I didn't get it. Why not just hold them hostage and take the things without anyone getting hurt?" She started to talk to herself, but I wasn't paying much attention anymore. What had I seen a few weeks ago? What was that? Was that some sick joke? Some teenagers screwing around with me?

"Why do you ask about that?" She said. I shook my head, slowly turning back into the empty room that I could have sworn Mikey, Ray, Bob and Frank were in at one point. It must have been some teens screwing with me. Yeah, that was it!

I walked into the room and found a small yellow note laying on the counter of the kitchen. I reached over and picked it up, reading the sloppy writing of a man.

"All work and no play makes Gerard a dull boy." I read quietly. On the back was the fragile texture of a picture. I slipped it out from beneath the paper and stared at it carefully. It was a picture of Ray, Mikey, Frank and Bob all standing together in a small group. They smiled, waving into the camera which Mikey was holding. In the corner of the picture it said 12/1/11. I furrowed my brows again.

Once I looked closer at the picture, I noticed that each of them had blood running down one point of their bodies. Frank's blood was trailing out of his forehead; Mikey's was coming out of a place in between his ribs and his collarbone; Ray's wasn't visible except for a bullet hole coming out of his chest; Finally Bob had one going right through his throat and another in his shoulder, what looked to be like a mistake. It didn't make sense to me at all....

All work and no play makes Gerard a dull boy.