Upwards

The first song was barely over but the crowd were still going wild. It amazed me that I ever used to be a part of this world. It was all so alien to me now. I had settled down into suburbia with my child and my stable job and my family home. To think that I used to live this life of glamour and fame; to think that I used to be speculated upon by total strangers just because of who I was sleeping with, was all quite insane.

Of course, while we’re speaking of aforementioned complete strangers, my sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed on the internet forums. I mean, I didn’t expect it to. You can’t just run away from your rock star husband while you’re 5 months pregnant and hope that nobody will notice. I didn’t Google it personally but Kate tells me there was uproar from fans. Apparently many journalists speculated that I ‘couldn’t cope with the lifestyle’ associated with the band. And for the most part I don’t think they were too wrong. A certain magazine cover I accidently glanced at a couple of years ago claimed that Frank Iero was ‘heartbroken’. I should fucking think he was.

I guess really I should just be grateful that nobody ever recognised me from all those years ago. I mean, besides disappearing, I didn’t do much in the way of laying low. I didn’t change my appearance too much, besides getting rid of the bump and a couple of extra stress-related pounds. I still had the same shaggy, mousey hair. I still had the same glasses and ever-present expression of perplexity. I didn’t change my name. Everybody knew me as Daisy Iero, and Iero isn’t such a common name in Philadelphia. One of my students did once raise his hand in class to ask me if I was related to Frank Iero and I merely smiled and replied “If I was, Jason, rest assured I wouldn’t be teaching math.” And that was that.

So anyway, back to tonight. Back to backstage at the Electric Factory.

Gerard began to introduce the band to the crowd but I was transfixed on Frank. He just looked so good and all of these dormant feelings were rushing back to me and I was aching because I had conditioned myself to stop missing him but now it was undeniable. I still missed him and I still loved him and I wanted him back in my life but I didn’t know if he would have me after everything I had done.

It’s too easy, over time, to look back on things and dismiss them. For me and Frank, during those two years, I started to think that perhaps it was puppy love or infatuation, or whatever you want to call it. I began to believe that I just fell in love with the first boy who ever showed me any attention, and I let my fantasies run away with me in spite of all the obvious signs that things weren’t going to be so great. Believing this made being apart from him a little easier. But standing here and looking at him, and hearing his voice, and knowing that he might be willing to forgive me, I knew that it was just a lie I told myself to help me get to sleep at night. Frank and I were real. We always were.

“You look like you could use a friend,” came a familiar voice from beside me.

It was Alice. Of course it was Alice. All these years and I would still recognise that voice anywhere.

“I could use a fucking drink,” I smiled. “And a lie down. And maybe a big old bar of chocolate.”

Alice chuckled and led me towards a seating area where the sound of the performance was just quiet enough for us to have a proper conversation. From this point I could still see Frank, so I was happy. For some reason I was terrified that I would turn around and he would have disappeared, just like I did. It felt crappy. Which made me feel super crappy for doing it.

We sat in silence for a moment. The sort of silence where you’re with somebody you used to be so close to, but you’ve since drifted apart and aren’t sure how to be around each other anymore. I noticed that Alice was wearing a wedding band.

“You finally got hitched, huh?” I asked with a smile.

Alice looked up and nodded, a grin breaking out across her face. “We did,” she said. And then there was a sad pause. “We would have loved you to be there.” Wow, break my heart why don’t you. Like I don’t feel bad enough already.

I paused. “I’m so sorry, Alice,” I breathed. “I’m sorry for making you deal with that.”

“You gave me quite a scare,” she smiled kindly. She moved closer and put her hand on my arm. “What happened, Daisy? Tell me everything.”

So I told her what I’ve already told you. About how crazy I was going in the days leading up to my sudden departure. About how scared and alone I felt when I first came to Philadelphia. About Kate and Rosie and the house and my job and everything else. About how pretty much every single aspect of my life had changed except for the fact that I was still desperately in love with Frank Iero. She listened dutifully, nodding every now and then. I’m not sure if she was actually listening to my ramblings or if she was just being polite, but either way it was lovely to get it all out.

And then I made the mistake of asking her how Frank had been since I left. As soon as I saw her face crumple, I knew I shouldn’t have. But it was too late. She had to tell me now.

“Honestly, he’s been a fucking mess,” she told me in a hushed voice. I don’t know why she was hushing. Perhaps just to add drama, or perhaps we were being spied on. Who knew? “At first he started drinking and that was fine. We could sort of cope with that. We thought it was pretty normal.” She paused and bit her lip. I had a feeling I wouldn’t like the next bit. “And then he started taking pills. We didn’t know what they were and he never talked about it. But he was different. He just...wasn’t Frank anymore. They changed him. He became snappy and aggressive. But thankfully Gerard got him out of that. That was about a year ago. Ever since then he’s been clean, but he just mopes about. He doesn’t seem interested in anything anymore except for the music.”

I nodded slowly as I took this all in. It was difficult to hear it. It was more difficult to know that I was the reason for it.

Alice sighed and cast her gaze towards my husband, out on the stage. “I think he needs you, Dais,” she said slowly. “He needs something stable in his life.”

Friday, May 8th, 2008.
Just after midnight.

“You want to go for a walk?”

It was a little after midnight. We were sitting backstage with the rest of the band and this seemed like the best idea I had ever heard. I had had my emotional reunions with my old friends, met the drummer who was filling in for Bob, even given Tony a firm handshake, and was now being bombarded with questions that made me feel a little uncomfortable. To get away from everybody (even though they are all lovely people) sounded ideal.

So Frank and I went for a walk. It felt sort of cool to be on my territory, for once. For so many months I was just following him around and now the tables had turned. Philadelphia was my city. I knew it. I loved it.

We were heading towards the park but Frank didn’t know that. He just shuffled alongside me with his hands in his pockets and his head in the stars.

“Beautiful night,” he observed neutrally.

I couldn’t help but smile. “I guess it is,” I agreed.

More than anything I wanted to reach out and grab Frank’s hand, but I couldn’t let myself because I didn’t know what he wanted and I didn’t want to ruin things already by going too fast. Urgh. I just wanted my husband back. But that was probably a little too much to ask right now.

We got to the park at around 1am and headed towards the swings. Frank was smiling very faintly as we sat down side-by-side, gently rocking ourselves back and forth. I could see him smiling even in the dark. I could never forget that smile.

“I bring Rosie here sometimes,” I finally said. “She likes it. She calls it her pretty playground.”

Frank didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at the sky.

I sighed and scuffed my feet along the tarmac beneath me. “Penny for them?” I asked tentatively.

Frank opened his mouth, closed it again, thought for a few moments, and then spoke. “I’m just remembering,” he said vaguely. “I’m trying to think of a time when it was easy for us.”

I chewed my lip and joined him. Looking back, there weren’t many times when everything was simple. We were never truly alone. There was always some form of gossip or threat or devil slut PR rep fucking things up for us. The only thing was that we had days where we didn’t let those things bother us. They were always there. There was always something happening around us and sometimes it brought us down and tested our relationship but there were some times when we just didn’t let it.

“The things worth doing are never easy,” I said, and it actually sounded very wise coming from a woman who had no control of her life. Or am I being dramatic again?

Frank gave a short laugh. “I guess you’re right,” he nodded, and we gently swung in silence for a few moments. We were just a little bit out of sync with one another.

“Do you think it will ever be easy?” Frank asked me quietly.

I leant my head against the thick metal chain of the swing as I considered this. “Maybe,” I replied. “But I think that’s probably up to us. It’s going to be as hard or as easy as we make it.”

I was on a fucking roll with all this wisdom and shit tonight. Or this morning. Whatever it was. I was mighty impressed with myself.

I think Frank was, too. “You are just full of answers tonight, aren’t you, Ms Montague?” he chuckled.

“Please,” I smiled, “call me Mrs. Iero.”

He gave another laugh and was then silent for a few moments. “I miss you so fucking much, Mrs. Iero,” he sighed, twirling around in his swing until the chain became twisted. He let it go and the tension spun him around. It started to rain ever so lightly.

“I miss you too, Mr. Iero,” I said softly. My eyes were filling with tears but I begged them not to fall because I am 26 years old now and 26 year olds don’t cry. “I’m sorry I left.”

Frank stood up and came to face me, his legs either side of me and his forehead on mine. He looked deep into my eyes for a second or two. It was the closest I had ever felt to him. My heart was pounding so hard that I thought it might just give up at any second. “I know you are,” he whispered.

There was a gust of wind that brought with it heavy sheets of rain.

“We’ll go sit under the bridge until it lets off,” I announced, grabbing Frank’s hand and leading him through the grey and the rain towards the bridge that connected the climbing frame to the slide. It wasn’t far but we were both soaking wet by the time we got there and sat down on the hard floor. But at least it was dry under there.

We didn’t say anymore about the night I left. We didn’t say anything at all after that, really. We just sat together as husband and wife, our hands still entwined because neither one of us wanted to let go of something that was so normal and so familiar. And we watched the rain fall all around us. And then, when it finally stopped, Frank walked me home.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” he said quietly, staring up at my house.

I nodded. “I finish work at four,” I told him.

He nodded and reluctantly I dropped his hand. “Goodnight,” I said softly, deciding at the last minute to lean over and kiss him quickly on the cheek.

He smiled. “Goodnight.”