Living in Dreamworld

*Frankito's POV*

I looked over at my phone to see it was 3 am. Why the fuck can't I sleep? Oh right, I having feelings for my fathers girlfriend. And knowing I'll never get to hold her, cuddle with her, kiss her. But my dad is happy and so is Camille. But I can't take this, it's driving me nuts and I'm starting to get extremely depressed. To the point that I have a blade in my hand and blood on my wrists. I can't believe what I've jus done. My self hate started to grow and I put the cool metal back on my wrist.

~-~

"Frankito!" Oh shit it's my dad! I quickly covered my horrid scars but I was too late.
"Please don't be mad, please." I cried softly as he looked at me with a pained expression.
"Frankie I'm not mad at you." He sat and put an arm on my back. "Let me help you." I nodded and he got up and came back with a bandage and a wet wash cloth. I stayed in silence as he cleaned them off carefully and bandaged my abused arm. He put his arm around my shoulder but I refused to look at him.

"Do you want to tell me why your doing this?" He asked quietly.
"I'm depressed." I mumbled.
"And why is that? You know I'd do anything to help you, right? You're my son and I love you." I sighed and pulled my knees to my chest.
"I just feel so...alone." I couldn't see him but I knew he was shocked.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I just shrugged and heard him sigh. "Frankie I'm so sorry you feel like you're alone. I hate that you're going through this and I want to help." I just nodded and rested my head against his chest.

"Thanks dad." These are the moments that I love. When my dad isn't a crazy punk rock god pounding on his drums. When he isn't in crazy colored pants with his hair spiked up. "You're the best." I felt him hold me tighter.
"You're the best son I could've ever asked for."

~-~

I woke up with sweat covering my face and my scars still barely bleeding. Just when I thought that I could be happy it had to be a dream. 'Life is a bitch sometimes.' I thought as I washed my scarred arm and put on a pair of skinny jeans and a crewneck a size too big, which was perfect for my healing arm. Plus it was going to be one of the only cold days of the year in California.

"Frankie! Breakfast!" I groaned, not wanting to see anyone, even my dad or Camille. I just want to take my anger out on my drums. When I got downstairs Billie Joe and Mike were sitting on the couch with my dad and Camille eating breakfast, already dressed.
"What time is it?" I groaned, rubbing my eyes.
"One thirty." My dad laughed. I just grabbed some pancakes and headed down to the practice room.

I sat behind the drum set and did a quick warmup before playing whatever came to my mind. My wrist started to hurt so I switched to guitar. I did a bunch of scales then tuned my guitar into drop d. I played all the songs I knew in that key then tuned it back up to play You Only Live Once by Suicide Silence with the amp turned up really loud. I played standing with a bunch of head banging and jumps. I was so focused that I didn't notice when Billie Joe walked in. I looked up at the end of the song and he was there, clapping.

"Oh hey I didn't s-see you w-walk in." That was weird I don't usually have a stutter.
"You're really talented." He smiled. I smiled back even though it was fake, and thanked him. I pulled my sleeves down while he grabbed a guitar. He played a few chords and I caught on, soloing within a scale. After a few minutes I started the chords as he soloed impossibly fast. I was shocked, I've never seen him go that fast, usually his solos are planned and not too fast. When he stopped I did too and put the guitar down. He patted the seat next to him on the couch and I hesitated but sat.

"What's u-up?" I asked, not making eye contact.
"Frankie your dad saw your wrist." Tears started to form but I held them in. "You know he cares about you so much and he's up there sobbing?" I shook my head and curled into a ball, letting my tears stream down my cheeks.
"It doesn't seem like he cares." I sobbed and he rubbed my back soothingly. "H-He spends m-more time with the b-band then he does w-with m-me." He sighed.
"I know it's hard not having your parents around, it sucks. I was such a fucking basket case when I was your age, I was smoking, drinking, doing drugs, I flunked out of high school, and I gave up. You're so talented and smart and it doesn't have to be like that for you."

"I just want my dad back." I looked at him for the first time and he had tears in his eyes, something I had never seen before.
"Do you want to talk to him?" I shook my head.
"I want to be alone."
"Just promise me you won't do it and I'll leave you alone."
"I promise." I mumbled. We stood up and he hugged me before ruffling my hair and walking up the stairs. I grabbed a guitar and followed him. When I emerged Billie was talking to my dad. When he saw me he tried to come towards me but Billie held him back, causing my dad to shove him. I ran up the stairs when I heard him call my name.

"Trè let him be." Billie said and I mentally thanked him as I closed my door. For the next half an hour I wrote some lyrics and put it to a guitar riff. Someone knocked and I went to the door. "It's me." Billie Joe. I opened the door but he didn't come in. "I told your dad what you told me and he really wants to see you." I nodded.
"Okay, can you stay?"
"I think this is something you need to work out with your dad. I'll be in the next room, alright?" I nodded and stepped out of my room. As I walked down the stairs I saw my dad on the couch with his head in his hands. I took a deep breath and sat across from him.

"Frankito I'm so sorry. I never meant to let my job take over my life."
"It's okay."
"No it's not. You deserve better. I think you should come on tour with us. We have an extra bunk and I would love having you with us. I don't want you to be alone." I smiled, and this time, it was real. I walked over to my dad and hugged him. "Frankito you know I love you, right?"
"Of course dad. I love you."