Faces in the Mirror Don't Lie

Gerard Way was sitting on his back porch, smoking a cigarette. He wasn’t doing anything particularly interesting, just watching the silver smoke float into the distance, the setting sun giving it an orange tint. He sighed. It was his first week back from being on tour as The Black Parade, and he was already bored.

He threw his cigarette but to the ground and crushed it with his shoe. Memories from three years ago flashed across his mind. Memories of him and his dark haired, blue eyed angel, standing on this very porch, smoking cigarettes and telling stories. The memories of what happened afterwards almost made him break. Even though he was happily married now, he would never be fully over him and the wonderful times they’d had. Too bad it had to end like it did.

It started to rain. He decided to head back inside and join his wife. She was in bed, sleeping. He slid the glass door closed, making sure to lock it. He didn’t want anyone breaking in, not that it was hard to break a glass door, but at least he would hear the noise and wake up before they could do any harm. As he was walking to the bedroom, he heard frantic knocking. Who the hell would be coming to see him at this time of night? Was it someone from the band? No, they’d call him first. Unless it was something urgent and they didn’t have time to call.

Starting to panic, Gerard raced to the front door. Please don’t let anything be wrong, was what was going through his head. He skidded across the hall and to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open in one swift movement. His breath caught in his throat and his heart nearly stopped beating as he got the biggest shock of his life.

“Hi, Gerard,” Bert McCracken said. Gerard didn’t say anything. He just stared at the man in front of him, taking in his image. What was he doing here? What made him think that after three years he was allowed to come back?

“B-Bert?” His voice came out as a whisper. “What are you doing here? It’s raining.”

“Really? I didn’t notice. I thought I was this soaked before I left the house,” Bert slurred, smirking slightly.

“Come in,” Gerard said. It might have done some good to be polite. Maybe Bert was there for a good reason. Maybe someone died, or was hurt, or maybe his car broke down and he had nowhere else to go. He just hoped Bert wasn’t here to fuck with his life again. That’s a horrible thought, Gerard. He silently scolded himself. He shouldn’t think such things.

Gerard held the door open and Bert stumbled into the house. Maybe he was just drunk as fuck and confused. That must have been it. Last time Gerard checked, Bert wanted nothing to do with him anymore. They went into the living room, and Gerard went to get Bert a towel. Throwing it to him, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

Bert caught the towel and started drying his face and hair with it. “What, there has to be a reason now?” he asked.

Gerard sighed and leaned against the wall opposite to Bert. He didn’t want to get too close you him, not right now. “Uh, yeah, kind of."

"Why?" Bert asked, slumping down onto the couch, lying the towel down next to him. Was he retarded? No, just drunk.

"What was it you said the last time we talked? 'You have no life, I hate you, I never want to talk to you again,' or something else along those lines," Gerard angrily replied. "So, yeah, you need a fucking reason to be showing up on my doorstep in the middle of the goddamn night."

Bert looked at Gerard calmly and asked, "What did I ever do to you to deserve this kind of treatment?" Gerard was mad now. What did he do? Oh, he'd tell him exactly what he did.

"You fuck everything up! Before I met you I was happy, maybe even when we were friends I was happy. But you had to go and wreck everything. You encouraged me to drink and do other shit with you every night. It was turning me into a monster, and that fucked up head of yours didn't even notice." All of Gerard's anger and hurt from the memories for three years ago started to show. "Just because I didn't want to party with you didn't mean I didn't want to stop being your friend. I thought I might have found something really special when we met, but you just turned around and threw it back in my face, making me feel perfect, then breaking my fucking heart..." His voice faltered. He turned away from Bert and leaned his face against the cold wall. Tears threatened to spill, but he wouldn't let them. He couldn't break now. Not after all that time he spent getting over Bert.

"I-I didn't know you felt that way," Bert said, calmly standing up and walking over to where Gerard was. How could he be so calm at a time like this?

"Hell yeah you did." Gerard still didn't look at Bert.

"I messed up, Gerard. I was young and stupid. I didn't know what I was doing," Bert admitted quietly. "I need to tell you something very important, and I hope it will make up for everything."

Gerard turned around to face him. "What is it?" he asked, even though he knew Bert was wasting his time. There was nothing he could say that would make Gerard forgive him for hurting him.

Bert took a step closer, looking deep into Gerard's hazel eyes. "I...I love you, Gerard." Time stopped. Gerard's breath caught in his throat.

"W-what?"

"I love you, Gerard," Bert repeated. "I always have. I just didn't understand when I was younger. You always made me feel so happy, and I just thought--"

"Stop."

Bert looked confused. "But--"

"No, just stop!" Gerard interrupted again, with more force this time. "Don't say shit like that when you don't mean it."

"But I do mean it..." Bert tried again.

"No, you fucking don't! You always used to say shit like that when you were drunk, but you never actually meant it. You wouldn't even be here right now if you hadn't been drinking."
That caught Bert's attention.

"I haven't been drinking though. I'm 100% sober," he explained.

"Pfft, don't even try to lie," Gerard scoffed. "I'm not that fucking stupid. You're just here to
mess with my feelings. I have a wife. A beautiful wife, who I love very much. I'm not about to throw that away on a drunk piece of shit like you. You're just tying to ruin everything again."

"I didn't know..." Bert looked hurt. "Why would you think I would do that? I'm telling the truth." He also looked serious. But he always had been a good liar.

"Just leave, Bert," Gerard demanded darkly. "Go away."

"I'm not going to try to argue with you, Gerard, because I know how stubborn you are. But can you at least think about being friends again? I miss you."

Gerard sighed loudly. Could he actually be telling the truth? No. "Honestly, I miss you too, Bert, but I can't do this right now. Come back in another couple of years, after I'm completely over you, and then ask me again." Seeing Bert, even only for a few minutes, had already started getting to him. All the feelings he used to have slowly started surfacing again. He couldn't let that happen. "Now go."

Bert stood there for a couple of minutes, just staring into Gerard's eyes. It seemed as if he was contemplating something. Then after the silence started to become deafening, he turned towards the door. "Goodbye, Gerard." Then he left.

Gerard locked the door behind him, then sunk to the floor. Had that really just happened? After all this time spent trying to get Bert back into his life, he just pushed him back out when the chance finally arrived. It was for the best, he decided. That didn't mean it didn't hurt though. He brought his knees to his chest and put his face in his hands, tears making their way down his cheeks. All the hurt and old emotions came pouring out as liquid sorrow from his eyes. He couldn't hold it in anymore.

After about ten minutes, Gerard got his breathing back to normal and wiped his eyes roughly. He stood and headed to his room, where he snuggled up to his wife and fell asleep.

The next morning, Gerard heard that The Used's singer had killed himself.