Touched by an Angel, Though I Fall Out of Grace

*November 19, 2011*
Brittany’s POV

I stood in front of my newly updated closet. I had put all of my brightly-colored pants, T-shirts with the bright designs of cupcakes, dinosaurs and weird monsters into the closet of the guest bedroom. I had kept my band shirts, hoodies and jackets with kitten ears in my room and went out and bought new pairs of skinny jeans (both in black and dark denim). I wasn’t seventeen anymore, it was time to update my look. I was finding clothes to put on so I could go to Walmart to do the grocery shopping for my mom.

I finally decided on a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a red tank top and my black Green Day “American Idiot” hoodie. I brushed my recently cut and dyed hair into a ponytail; I no longer had the fringe that covered my eyes, instead it was just long and black with my ends dyed a dark red. I put on black high top Converses and grabbed my newly purchased cell phone, my old car keys which now contained pepper spray. I picked up my gray mini backpack that had skulls on it and threw in my wallet and handheld Taser before heading downstairs. To most people, this was a bit excessive, but these days leaving my house alone gave me really bad anxiety.

As I walked out the door, I locked it behind me, heading to my car. I checked the time to make sure I had enough time to get my shopping done before my piercing appointment. Today, I’m getting a bridge piercing and an eyebrow piercing on my left side. I had already gotten my nose pierced, which my mother wasn’t too stoked about. I found it funny that she was okay with tattoos but she didn’t want me “poking holes in my face”. Those were literally her words when I had asked her why it had upset her so much. Speaking of tattoos, I had gotten two of them; one was on my shoulder and it was an open bird cage with the date I had escaped written in Roman numerals underneath and a few bird silhouettes flying away; I got this tattoo because it symbolized freedom and I couldn’t think of a better way to represent what I had gone through. The other one consisted of the words Stay Strong on my left wrist with a small heart at the end.

I drove down the road, rolling into Kearny. Soon, I was parking my car and then walking into the store. I grabbed a cart and made my way over to the grocery side, picking up what was on the list that my mother had given me. As I strolled down the aisles, I hummed along to the song that Gerard had written for his grandmother. I had no idea why that song had popped into my head at the moment, but I didn’t mind and made a mental note to look up My Chemical Romance on the computer when I got home.

I was standing in the middle of the snack aisle, trying to figure out what cookies I wanted to eat with my ice cream later tonight when I heard someone call my name. I looked up and broke into a grin at who was making their way to me.

“Oh, my God!” I screamed as I wrapped my arms around them. “I missed you like crazy!”

“I missed you, too, Britt,” Damon admitted. He hadn’t changed at all, he still had the same haircut and the same spider bites. “Finishing high school without my best friend fucking sucked. You look great, by the way, and I love your hair.”

“Thanks,” I told him as he twirled some my hair around his finger. “Don’t just stand there,” I said, looking past Damon.

Steven smiled as he stepped forward and engulfed me in a hug. The only change in Steven, as far I could tell anyway, was his hair; it was sort of like a Mohawk but with long bangs cut into a fringe. I looked up at him and squinted. “Did you get taller?” I wondered.

He laughed. “Maybe you got shorter.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and as I giggled. My eyes landed on a guy with aquamarine colored hair and small gauges standing next to Damon, looking like he felt awkward. I glanced down and noticed that he was holding Damon’s hand and my eyes grew wide.

Damon noticed my expression and grinned. “Brittany, this is my boyfriend, Tristan Lowell. Tristan, this is Brittany Davis, my best friend.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said with a wave.

“Hi, Damon talks about you all the time and it’s nice to finally meet you.” he said.

“We should catch up sometime,” Damon suggested. “When are you free?”

“Umm, at the moment, always; so just drop by my house whenever.”

“Tonight around seven-thirty?” he wondered and I nodded.

“Great, see you then,” he said before they walked off to finish their shopping.

Once I had decided on the triple chocolate, chocolate chip cookies I headed to the checkout counter. I pulled out my phone and glanced at the time. 1:30. I had thirty minutes to get to the tattoo parlor. After paying for my groceries, I pushed the cart outside to my car and loaded everything into the trunk and then got behind the wheel and navigated my way out of the parking lot. It wasn’t long before I was pulling up to the small, hole-in-the-wall tattoo and piercing parlor that was called Inkredible. I killed my engine and then stepped out of the car, locking the door before walking up to the shop’s entrance.

As I opened and shut the door a little bell chimed, letting the employees that a customer had arrived. I glanced over at the counter to say hello to Jenny, the shop girl, but she wasn’t there; instead a hand-made sign was propped on the counter that read “Help Wanted”.

“Hey, Brittany, right on time,” I heard, causing me to look away from the sign. Lorenzo, the owner of the shop, was coming from the back to greet me.

“Hi,” I said, glancing back at the counter. “Where’s Jenny?”

“Her and her husband had to move down to North Carolina, he was stationed there at the last minute.”

“Oh,” I said. “Have you hired someone else for the job already or are you still looking?”

“No one else has asked or applied,” Lorenzo informed me. “The job’s yours if you want it.”

“Really?” I wondered.

“Totally, but you’ll still have to fill out an application and bring in a copy of your résumé for our files.”

I nodded, “Alright, thanks.”

“No problem, now let’s go ‘poke holes in your face’,” he said with a wink, quoting my mom, and I laughed. I followed Lorenzo to the back, towards the stations and took a seat in one of the chairs.

“Just bridge and eyebrow, today, correct?” Lorenzo asked as he put on latex gloves.

“Yepp,” I said, watching him get everything together.

“Alright and how’s your nose piercing doing?”

I touched my nose, the swelling had gone down days ago and every once in a while it start weeping, but other than that it’s been okay. “Good,” I answered, simply.

“Fantastic,” he said, turning towards me. While holding an alcohol wipe, he reached out a hand and began to sanitize the bridge of my nose. I closed my eyes as he worked, but I felt him place the clamp on me.

“Are you ready?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I said, steadying my breathing before I felt a sharp pinch and then Lorenzo was inserting the jewelry into me.

“One down, one to go,” he said and I opened my eyes, watching as he grabbed another alcohol wipe to start the process over for my eyebrow piercing. This felt quicker than the bridge piercing and it wasn’t as painful.

“And, you’re done,” Lorenzo announced, handing me a hand mirror. “What do you think?”
I studied my reflection for a few minutes before answering. “I love them, thanks,” I said, still looking in the mirror.

“And you already know how to take care of them,” he said, stating a fact and not asking a question. I nodded, handing over my mom’s debit card and followed him up to the front of the shop. I watched him swipe the card through the machine and push a few buttons before handing the card back over to me.

“Here you go. So, when do you think you’ll be able to start?” he asked.

“Whenever you need me to,” I told him. “I really don’t do anything at the moment.”

“Can you be here Monday morning by nine?”

“Yeah, no problem; what will I be doing?”

“As a tattoo counter girl, you’ll be answering the phone, booking appointments, managing customer reviews, cleaning up the shop before you leave and locking up. Is that alright with you?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I think I can handle it.”

“Okay, here’s an application and you can just bring in your résumé on your first day.”

“Okay, I’ll see you on Monday. Thanks again for the piercings,” I told him, making my way to the door.

He smiled at me. “No problem, I’ll see you later.”

I waved before walking out into the cold to get into my car. I buckled up before pulling away from the curb and heading home. By the time, I pulled into my driveway, my mom still wasn’t back from work so I had to pack in all the groceries by myself and put them away. When that was done, I locked the front door and grabbed my mom’s laptop from the computer and headed up to my room. I sat on my bed and fired up the computer; I plugged in my earphones and went to YouTube, typing My Chemical Romance full album into the search box. I clicked on "I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love" before grabbing a pen from my nightstand and started filling out my application. More than once, I ended up crying as I listened to Gerard sing, realizing that this was the only way I’d ever get to hear his voice again.

I was halfway through the second album, listening to a song called "The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You" when my mother stuck her head into my room. I paused the song and pulled out my earbuds as she came over and sat down next to me.

“Oh Lord, you’ve gone and poked more holes into your face,” she stated as she looked at me.

I laughed. “Hello, Mother, nice to see you, too; my day was lovely, thanks for asking,” I said, my voice coated with sarcasm.

“Hush, child. What are you working on?”

“I’m just finishing filling out my job application and then I’ve got to put together a résumé.”

“A job application,” she mused. “Where are you hoping to work?”
"Oh, I’ve already got the job,” I informed her. “This is just for their files. But, I’m working at Inkredible as their new counter girl.”

“And what about college?” my mom wondered.

I shrugged. “I’ll get my GED during the summer and then see how many online classes I can take as an art major so I can keep my job.”

My mom sniffed and wiped her eyes and I looked at her, confused. “Why are you crying?”

“You’re just so grown up and I missed out on a lot when you were gone. I didn’t get prom pictures or graduation pictures and if you wouldn’t have been taken, you’d be finishing up your senior year of college by now and it’s just not fair,” she answered, choking on her words. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her; we hugged until she stopped sniffling.

“I know and I hate it just as much as you do. I had to skip out on so many memories and I left so many people behind…” I trailed off, thinking of Gerard again.

My mom studied me. “He was a total wreck when you went missing. I kept in touch with his mom as much as possible for a while and she told me that he had turned to drinking and had gotten addicted to drugs. But it’s been years since I’ve talked to Donna, so I have no idea how he’s doing now.”

I nodded silently, my mind reeling with this new information. I felt a bit responsible for what she had told me had happened to Gerard; it was my abduction that had caused him to self-destruct. Again, I felt tears well up in my eyes and it didn’t take long for a few of them to fall. I quickly wiped them away and took a deep breath.

“Are you going to be okay?” my mom asked, warily.

“Yeah,” I assured her. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go start dinner,” she told me, kissing my forehead as she stood up. I nodded as she walked out my room and closed the door behind her. I put my earphones back in and continued working.

**~**~**~**~**~**

After dinner, I was helping my mom wash dishes and clean up the kitchen when the doorbell rang. My mom shut off the water and dried her hands so she could go answer the door, leaving me to keep washing dishes.

“Britt, you’ve got visitors,” my mom announced as I heard her come back into the kitchen. I turned my head to see Damon, Steven and Tristan trailing behind my mother.

“Hey,” I said, smiling at them and they waved.

“You can head on upstairs, Britt. I’ll finish up in here,” my mom told me.

“Are you sure?” I asked and she nodded. “Okay,” I said and dried off my hands before heading upstairs with the boys following me. We entered my room and I shut the door; Damon wasted no time in taking off his coat and kicking his shoes off and sitting down on my bed, as if it hadn’t been years since he’d been in my bedroom. Steven followed suit and so did Tristan, once he saw that it was okay with me. I sat down at the head of my bed, next to Damon and across from Steven; we were all sitting in a weird circle-square shape with our knees touching.

“When did you get those done?” Damon asked, staring at my face.

“A few hours ago, after I finished up at Walmart; do they look bad?” I wondered, feeling a little self-conscious.

He quickly shook his head. “No, I like them and I like your tattoo,” he said, pointing to the words inked onto my wrist.

“Thanks,” I said, calming down. “So, what’s new?”

“Well, I’ve had NED of cancer for six years now and the doctors consider me cured, but there’s always a chance of it coming back. I hope not, though because I’ve already gotten this tattoo,” Steven told me, rolling up his sleeve. On his arm was an orange cancer ribbon with the word 'survivor' written across the front.

“That’s fantastic,” I said, leaning over to give Steven a quick hug.

“I’m majoring in art,” Damon said “and I’ll be graduating this spring and I don’t know what the hell I plan on doing after that.”

“I’m in my sophomore year of college, majoring in psychology to be a therapist,” Steven added.

I nodded; envious that they sort of had a plan for their life. “Cool,” I said, monotonously.

Damon studied me before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” I said, quickly. “Okay, moving on. Tristan, tell me something interesting; I need to get to know the guy that swept my best friend off of his feet.”

“Britt, it’s not okay to hold that in, have you talked about it with your mom?” Steven wondered. “If not, you should or maybe contact a therapist.”

“No,” I said again, harsher this time. “It’s done, it happened and I don’t need to talk about it. I’m fine. Now, I’m talking to Tristan.”

“Umm…,” Tristan started, picking at one of the rips in his jeans. “My favorite color is aquamarine.”

I nodded, signaling for him to continue.

“I’m from Canada, I’m part French… I met Damon during our freshman year of college. We were roomed together because freshmen have to stay on campus and all that, but anyway, we were friends but staying friends was never on my agenda. We got together at a party at one of my friend’s parents’ houses and it’s just been great from there; we’ve been in a relationship for four years now,” Tristan said.

I smiled at the story, happy that Damon had finally found himself a boyfriend. “That’s cute,” I said. “And how about you, Steven? Have you found a girlfriend?”

He shook his head. “Not really, but there’s this girl in my biology class and she’s just amazing and her name’s Natalie; I’ve never actually had a real conversation with her, but I have spoken to her once.”

“You should talk to her,” I told him. “Maybe ask her out for coffee or something.”

Steven nodded, “Yeah, if I can speak to her without stuttering or making a fool out of myself.”

“Are we avoiding the main topic?” Damon wondered aloud.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, staring at him.

“I’m talking about Gerard.”

“Oh,” I said. “What about him?”

“Do you miss him?” Damon asked.

What kind of a question was that? Of course I missed him; I had missed him every day in the last six years. He had been my boyfriend and I had loved him… I still loved him. After a pause, I looked at Damon and nodded slowly. “Yeah,” I told him. “I miss him a lot… do you know how he’s doing? Earlier, my mom told me how he’d dealt with drugs and alcohol, but she couldn’t tell me anything else other than that.”

“Gerard’s doing great; he’s been sober for a while now, he moved out to L.A., and he, uh, gotmarriedandhadakid,” Damon answered, rushing the end of his sentence together.

I scrunched my nose, confused. “What?”

“Gerard got married and had a kid,” he said, cautiously.

“Oh,” I said, feeling my chest physically hurting from the heartbreak.

“But, according to Alternative Press, they got a divorce and I follow him on Twitter−”

“On what?” I asked, interrupting. “What the fuck is Twitter?”

“It’s social media, like Facebook.”

I stared him, still confused. He sighed, “Facebook is similar to MySpace, which no one really uses anymore.”

I nodded in understanding. “Oh, okay. Continue.”

“Anyway, I follow him on Twitter and he tweeted a photo of his new apartment, saying that he was back home.”

I perked up upon hearing that, not able to stop myself from smiling. He was back in Jersey; did that mean I had a chance of running into him? I didn’t know, but I hoped so. “Okay, cool.” I said.

“What are you thinking?” Damon asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Steven wondered. “She wants her man back.”

“Wait, hold on.” Tristan said, holding up his hands. “You dated Gerard Way? Frontman of My Chemical Romance, one of the greatest bands ever?”

I nodded. “Yeah, back in high school before everything happened.”

“That’s so cool. You’re so lucky, he’s so damn attractive,” he said, voicing his opinion on my ex-boyfriend. I smiled at his words, thinking just how true his statement was. Gerard had been attractive in high school, I had no clue how he looked now but I could only assume that he was still a good-looking man.

“But, yeah, Steven’s right,” I spoke up. “I want Gerard back and if I get the chance, I’m sure as hell going to take it. I’m still in love with him.”

“Then, I’m gonna make it my mission to get you back together with him. That’s what best friends are for, right?” Damon said.

“Thank you, but how are you gonna do that?” I questioned.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted. “But I will.”

I smiled at my best friend and leaned over to hug him, he was truly the best. As we pulled apart, I stifled a yawn and he laughed.

“You’re tired, so we should leave that way you can get to bed,” Damon said, standing up.

“Okay,” I agreed, yawning again, watching as they began to put their shoes back on. “Just stop by whenever you’re free. Oh, and put your numbers in my phone.” I handed my phone to Damon and then he passed it over to Steven who then gave it Tristan.

“Thank you,” I said as he gave it back to me. I stood up to hug Damon and Steven joined in. “You, too, Tristan,” I ordered and he smiled, entering our group hug. When we broke apart, we headed downstairs and I walked them to the door. I waved at them as they got into their vehicle and back out of my driveway. As soon as they had driven down the street, I shut the door and locked it.

“Mom,” I called out. “I’m going to bed.”

“You and me both,” I heard her say as I made my way to the stairs. I heard her shuffle out of the kitchen and watched as she flicked off the lights. We made our way upstairs in the dark, going to our separate bedrooms.

“Night, Mom!” I yelled, changing out of my skinny jeans and replacing them with a pair of shorts before pulling back the covers on my bed and then turning the light out. I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head.

“Goodnight, Britt,” I heard my mom say from her room just before I closed my eyes and fell asleep.