Status: Finished!
Early Sunsets Over Monroeville
What's the Worst you Take from every Heart you Break?
We didn't play that night. 'Personal issues'. It seemed I was the only one who didn't know what that meant in people-speak, because all of my friends glared at me when I got back to the tour bus, about ten minutes after Gerard, because I just gave up on running. What was the point, when no-one wanted to see me? Ray and Bob were slouched on the couch, Bob with wet, just-washed hair – that was a sure sign we were going home soon – and Mikey and Gee were nowhere in sight, but I could hear sobbing from somewhere, not my own cries. I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand roughly, my skin like sandpaper.
"Anyone want a drink?" I offered, brushing away more embarrassing tears. Why did I always have to cry, why couldn't I be an adult for once? It was so frustrating; though not as frustrating as the situation with Gee – he was the only guy (person!) I could ever, ever care about in that way, yet he hated me, and I didn't even know why. For God's sake, I'd made him cry.
"No." They both replied distantly, minimal interaction offered. It was borderline ignorance, and it hurt me and puzzled me. Why did everyone – my closest friends – hate me all of a sudden? It wasn't fair. They at least owed me an explanation, but the chances of me getting one didn't seem very high to me.
I didn't want a drink either, God knows why I'd even asked, so I sat down on the floor, right where I was standing, tucking my feet underneath my legs like we used to in kindergarten. Life was so much easier when I was in kindergarten.
"What's wrong with everybody?" I asked quietly, ashamed for some reason, staring at the hard, uncomfortable floor. "Why do you all hate me?"
"Did you hear something, Ray?" Bob asked rudely, but Ray's reply was worse.
"Nope. Nothing. Why, did you?" He shrugged, not a hint of a joke or a friendly smile on his frowning lips. Ray was always the most serious, but this...This was just uncalled for.
"No," Bob replied easily, turning back around to face the black television screen – it was off. Neither of them bothered to make a move to put it on. There wasn't anything worth watching, anyway.
"I'm tired," I mumbled, doubting they gave a damn. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
So that was how, at seven pm, when we should have been in a dressing room messing about and laughing and swearing at each other, I found myself curled up on my bunk, weeping like there was no tomorrow.
In the morning, I was not in my bed. I was on the sofa. Someone had moved me onto the couch, so they didn't have to sleep near me. Mikey was making coffee, and Gee was sniffling tiredly, maybe crying in his sleep, so I reckoned it would have been either Bob or Ray. Well, just charming! Don't mind me, as you move me to sleep on a chair because you all hate me for some reason. I was sure I at least deserved an explanation. So I went to find one, sure they wouldn't just confess the workings of their minds to me without first being badgered for it.
I found Bob asleep in my bed, and Ray on the camp-bed in the middle. Both of them were asleep. Instead of pissing them off even more by waking them up, I decided to hunt down Mikey and ask him instead. After all, he was Gerard's brother. He could probably tell me why Gee despised me so much, all of a sudden. He was still in the kitchen-thing, stirring two mugs of thick black stuff like sludge. Honestly, Gee drank coffee in any way, shape or form, but the way Mikes made it...Yuck. It was like drinking gloop or something. He burnt everything, even more than I did. He was so bad that, Gerard – the best cook out of all of us, though of course everything about him was the best, in my pathetically adoring eyes – had actually banned him from cooking on the tour bus. That was following a certain incident including a fork and a toaster. He had some weird ideas, did Mikey...Like taking a heater into the shower with him. It's a wonder one of them hadn't killed him by then: electrocution, food poisoning, lack-of-common-sense-itis...
"Mikey?" I asked uncertainly, stepping forwards, the tiles cold beneath my bare feet. He turned around, and his face dropped three feet in disgust when he recognised me.
"What do you want?" he spat at me, lips curling downwards with distaste. He said the word 'you' like it was dirty; like I was dirty, a bad thing.
"I just wondered how Gee was," I defended myself. "He seemed so upset last night, but I didn't know why." I didn't mention the fact that everyone seemed to think it was entirely my fault. From Mikey's expression, it was clear he blamed me too.
"Like you don't know," he shook his head, as if he was struggling to get his mind around how much of a twat I was.
"I honestly don't, though!" I cried after him when he walked past me. "Why does everyone suddenly hate me?"
I didn't expect the answer I was given. It came too fast, too hard, too harsh, too sharp. It cut through me like a knife slicing my tear-stained skin. "Lindsey loves you, not him. She agreed to marry him, but she never loved him. It's your fault. Lindsey broke his heart, but you caused it. What's the worst you could take from him, huh? What is the worst that you could take from all these hearts you /love/ to break? That a good enough reason for everyone to hate you?"
My mouth dropped open; I was rendered speechless as he sauntered angrily away, back to his brother. I couldn't believe...Did they seriously think I knew about this? Worse, liked Lindsey back? Hell, I loved Gerard! But how could I explain that to them, without confessing that I was in love with the lead singer? I didn't see how I could. Either way, Gee was heartbroken and they all thought it was my fault. If Lindsey did it because of me, then maybe it was. But I would never do that to Gee, even if I did like Lyn-Z; even if I was straight. Lindsey...loved...me... It was still difficult to get my head around it. How could she? And all that time I'd hated her for stealing Gerard from me...Now it was Gerard – and the rest of the guys – who hated me for stealing her from him. But I didn't want her! How had I managed to capture her heart when I loathed her, and loved her fiancé?
And I felt so guilty. I had caused Gee all this pain, when all I had ever wanted from him was some kind of signal that he felt the same way about me as I felt about him – not that I ever had received that – and to find some way of, one day, being with him. But what had I done instead? Somehow stolen the heart of the only one he loved, the one who he had wanted to spend the rest of his life with. I had wrecked it for him. All of it. The whole plan he had set out for himself, the thing he dreamt about: destroyed, by me. I hated myself. I wanted to die.
My head hurt so bad I had to take a tablet, maybe one or two or ten, to make myself sleep, to force the oblivion I yearned for upon myself, even for just an hour or two. The next thing I knew I was crying myself to sleep on the couch, not even liked – tolerated, even – enough by my so-called 'friends', the ones who were supposed to be loyal to me, to sleep in my own bed.
"Anyone want a drink?" I offered, brushing away more embarrassing tears. Why did I always have to cry, why couldn't I be an adult for once? It was so frustrating; though not as frustrating as the situation with Gee – he was the only guy (person!) I could ever, ever care about in that way, yet he hated me, and I didn't even know why. For God's sake, I'd made him cry.
"No." They both replied distantly, minimal interaction offered. It was borderline ignorance, and it hurt me and puzzled me. Why did everyone – my closest friends – hate me all of a sudden? It wasn't fair. They at least owed me an explanation, but the chances of me getting one didn't seem very high to me.
I didn't want a drink either, God knows why I'd even asked, so I sat down on the floor, right where I was standing, tucking my feet underneath my legs like we used to in kindergarten. Life was so much easier when I was in kindergarten.
"What's wrong with everybody?" I asked quietly, ashamed for some reason, staring at the hard, uncomfortable floor. "Why do you all hate me?"
"Did you hear something, Ray?" Bob asked rudely, but Ray's reply was worse.
"Nope. Nothing. Why, did you?" He shrugged, not a hint of a joke or a friendly smile on his frowning lips. Ray was always the most serious, but this...This was just uncalled for.
"No," Bob replied easily, turning back around to face the black television screen – it was off. Neither of them bothered to make a move to put it on. There wasn't anything worth watching, anyway.
"I'm tired," I mumbled, doubting they gave a damn. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
So that was how, at seven pm, when we should have been in a dressing room messing about and laughing and swearing at each other, I found myself curled up on my bunk, weeping like there was no tomorrow.
In the morning, I was not in my bed. I was on the sofa. Someone had moved me onto the couch, so they didn't have to sleep near me. Mikey was making coffee, and Gee was sniffling tiredly, maybe crying in his sleep, so I reckoned it would have been either Bob or Ray. Well, just charming! Don't mind me, as you move me to sleep on a chair because you all hate me for some reason. I was sure I at least deserved an explanation. So I went to find one, sure they wouldn't just confess the workings of their minds to me without first being badgered for it.
I found Bob asleep in my bed, and Ray on the camp-bed in the middle. Both of them were asleep. Instead of pissing them off even more by waking them up, I decided to hunt down Mikey and ask him instead. After all, he was Gerard's brother. He could probably tell me why Gee despised me so much, all of a sudden. He was still in the kitchen-thing, stirring two mugs of thick black stuff like sludge. Honestly, Gee drank coffee in any way, shape or form, but the way Mikes made it...Yuck. It was like drinking gloop or something. He burnt everything, even more than I did. He was so bad that, Gerard – the best cook out of all of us, though of course everything about him was the best, in my pathetically adoring eyes – had actually banned him from cooking on the tour bus. That was following a certain incident including a fork and a toaster. He had some weird ideas, did Mikey...Like taking a heater into the shower with him. It's a wonder one of them hadn't killed him by then: electrocution, food poisoning, lack-of-common-sense-itis...
"Mikey?" I asked uncertainly, stepping forwards, the tiles cold beneath my bare feet. He turned around, and his face dropped three feet in disgust when he recognised me.
"What do you want?" he spat at me, lips curling downwards with distaste. He said the word 'you' like it was dirty; like I was dirty, a bad thing.
"I just wondered how Gee was," I defended myself. "He seemed so upset last night, but I didn't know why." I didn't mention the fact that everyone seemed to think it was entirely my fault. From Mikey's expression, it was clear he blamed me too.
"Like you don't know," he shook his head, as if he was struggling to get his mind around how much of a twat I was.
"I honestly don't, though!" I cried after him when he walked past me. "Why does everyone suddenly hate me?"
I didn't expect the answer I was given. It came too fast, too hard, too harsh, too sharp. It cut through me like a knife slicing my tear-stained skin. "Lindsey loves you, not him. She agreed to marry him, but she never loved him. It's your fault. Lindsey broke his heart, but you caused it. What's the worst you could take from him, huh? What is the worst that you could take from all these hearts you /love/ to break? That a good enough reason for everyone to hate you?"
My mouth dropped open; I was rendered speechless as he sauntered angrily away, back to his brother. I couldn't believe...Did they seriously think I knew about this? Worse, liked Lindsey back? Hell, I loved Gerard! But how could I explain that to them, without confessing that I was in love with the lead singer? I didn't see how I could. Either way, Gee was heartbroken and they all thought it was my fault. If Lindsey did it because of me, then maybe it was. But I would never do that to Gee, even if I did like Lyn-Z; even if I was straight. Lindsey...loved...me... It was still difficult to get my head around it. How could she? And all that time I'd hated her for stealing Gerard from me...Now it was Gerard – and the rest of the guys – who hated me for stealing her from him. But I didn't want her! How had I managed to capture her heart when I loathed her, and loved her fiancé?
And I felt so guilty. I had caused Gee all this pain, when all I had ever wanted from him was some kind of signal that he felt the same way about me as I felt about him – not that I ever had received that – and to find some way of, one day, being with him. But what had I done instead? Somehow stolen the heart of the only one he loved, the one who he had wanted to spend the rest of his life with. I had wrecked it for him. All of it. The whole plan he had set out for himself, the thing he dreamt about: destroyed, by me. I hated myself. I wanted to die.
My head hurt so bad I had to take a tablet, maybe one or two or ten, to make myself sleep, to force the oblivion I yearned for upon myself, even for just an hour or two. The next thing I knew I was crying myself to sleep on the couch, not even liked – tolerated, even – enough by my so-called 'friends', the ones who were supposed to be loyal to me, to sleep in my own bed.