The Enigma’s Anomaly

I wake up before either Mikey or Gerard. Gerard’s drooling a little bit, but I don’t think much of it. He’s lying on his stomach with his hair covering his eyes and his hand slipping off the couch.

I feel happy looking at him, like this situation is utter shit, but then it sinks in that I’m just his friend. I’m just his would-be assassin turned miserable friend. If you can even call me that much.

I stand up and walk over to the kitchen to make some coffee. He starts moving around a little when I’m in the kitchen so I make enough for two. He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself to wake up which is never a fun thing to do.

“Ow,” Gerard moans from the couch a few minutes later, “my head hurts.”

“Well you did get shot yesterday,” I answer.

“Did that actually happen?” He groans in response.

“You were really fucking high, I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

“You know what would be really nice? If people would stop shooting me.”

“I’m sorry, but the best I can offer you is a coffee,” I answer.

“Deal,” He says and I hear him rustling around for a moment before his head pop up to look at me as I’m pouring the coffee into the cups. I get one for myself as well and then grab both mugs and walk over to him.

“Thanks, Frank,” He says and I hand him a mug but he makes a face. “No, not that one.”

“Why what’s wrong with this one?” I ask looking down at the cup.

“It’s green.”

“What’s wrong with green?”

“Green is not a creative color,” he answers. I smirk, but hand him the other mug, and he adjusts himself into a sitting position so I sit next to him.

His hair is all messy and he looks pretty drowsy, but he’s otherwise unblemished so I can’t complain.

“So thanks for staying the night I guess,” He says. He looks uncomfortable and I can’t blame him. It’s been a week since I last saw him. A whole week, and it took him being shot at for me to come back. How does he not hate me? I hate me a little bit. He thinks I hate him though, doesn’t he?

“Gerard, I want you to know that I don’t hate you,” I say.

“Good,” he says with a nod and he takes a loud sip of coffee, “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s... I mean it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“I just, how about... can we forget it ever happened?” Gerard asks.

“It’s not your fault Gerard, I was misleading you.”

He frowns, “please, can we just forget it?”

“Yeah, yeah sorry. It’s forgotten.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Gerard. It’s fine,” I answer.

Things are quiet for a few minutes with a lot of awkward slurping. I don’t know what to say so I don’t say anything. I can actually feel the awkward. I could cut the awkward with a knife. No one has ever been so silent for so long before. It’s so quiet. What does one do in this situation?

Gerard tried to kiss me and now I’m sitting here next to him. I’m sitting here next to the guy who I might be falling in love with and he very well might like me back and I’m doing nothing about it.

If I could make one wish it would be that all this shit never happened. I would never have become a bloody assassin, and I’d have never been given Gerard as a hit, and I would never have met him and I wouldn’t be in this mess. I would rather have never known him than make myself miserable with knowing that I can’t have him.

Oh god do I want him though. I want to take the last three years back and I want to meet Gerard. I want to meet him at that stupid hipster coffee shop and I want to have a conversation about zombies or some shit with him. I want to ask him out for coffee and then blush because we’re standing in a coffee shop. I want to go on a first date and try to hold his hand and then get all embarrassed because I’m hopeless. I want to go see the last Harry Potter film with him and make out at the back of the movie theater. I want to meet his family and be nervous that they’re not going to like me. I want to lease an apartment with him and watch him develop the first edition of his comic. I want to read the newspaper over his shoulder and make faces at him across the table. I want to pick out shirts with him after he spills grape juice on his favorite one. I want to wake up on a Monday while the sun isn’t even up yet and I want to groan because I have to go to work, but then I would smile and feel like everything is okay because Gerard would be lying there right next to me. I want to have a stupid fight with him about the dishes or some other shit. Mostly what I want is him.

I don’t want him to be at risk of dying, and I don’t want to be an assassin. I don’t want any of this. The only thing I really want is the guy sitting right next to me, but I don’t have that option.

What I want right now is to just lean in and tell him that I’m here for him, but I can’t do that. I know that absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder, but being near him is what’s making this so difficult on me. Being near him isn’t fair to either of us. If I am to keep him safe and out of harm’s way, then he shouldn’t be around me. Being in his life is just going to make this more difficult on the both of us.

If I stay then he’s going to think of me more and more as a friend or whatever. Maybe he’ll think of me as the guy who broke his heart, I don’t know. I just know that the sooner I get away from him, the sooner we can both start to forget. Forget each other and forget whatever might have happened between us.

I clear my throat and say the first thing that comes to mind, “my article is going to be published next week.”

“Oh, okay,” he says, and then doesn’t say anymore. I feel so wretched thinking all this crap about him. I’ve known him for so little of my life, but he gets to me. He just gets to me in a way that no one else ever has and I hate it, but I love it. I love the way he makes me feel and I hate the new feeling. In so many way I love and hate Gerard. He’s making me question my whole existence, but he’s worth questioning it all for.

“So I guess with the article being published we have no reason to see each other again,” Gerard says.

“Yeah,” I answer in a whisper. He’s right. I’m the journalist writing about him and nothing more.

Another few minutes of silence. I don’t want to even think about the next few weeks. I’m going to be miserable if I’m going to avoid Gerard. I don’t want to avoid him in the slightest, but I really should.

“I should, um, I should be heading out then,” I say once the coffee in my cup is gone. No point in prolonging the inevitable.

“What? Oh. Sure okay.”

I think for a few seconds before standing up. I don’t even know how to describe how much I want to stay put here forever.

“I’ll walk you to the door then,” he says standing up beside me.

There’s a long pause when we’re both standing there and trying not to look at each other. Neither of us have forgotten what happened a week ago and neither of us ever will. That’s pretty damn obvious. I should start moving or I’m never going to have the courage to go.

I turn around and step around the couch. Gerard follows and I walk over to the door. I put my hand on the knob and every single fiber in my body is telling me to turn around and kiss that bastard until I can’t breathe. My body is actually trying to pull me against my will and shove myself into his arms.

I don’t though. I just open the door and then stand there in the door frame. Why does this have to be so hard? Why couldn’t Gerard be an asshole? Why did I have to get the hot guy? The universe is really good at holding a grudge because it’s hated me ever since I was threes year old and stepped on an ant.

“I guess, uh, goodbye?” I say. Goodbye sounds so resolute. I’m not sure if I really mean that as a goodbye or just a see ya, but I wish it was the latter.

“Yeah, see you. Or maybe I won’t. What I mean is... bye?”

“You’re not going to die Gerard. I know it,” I say.

“Well someday. I just wish it was in the distant future rather then so soon.”

“Hey,” I say sternly, “you’re going to be okay. Okay?”

He tries to repress a small smile and bites his lip. I want him to be biting my lip.

“Yeah okay. Whatever you say, Frankie.”

I frown and nod, “okay. I’ll um, be going then.”

I say and I step into the hallway. He doesn’t close the door and he doesn’t make a move to, so I turn to look at him.

It might be my last time I ever see him in person and if it is, I want to remember his face. I want to remember this moment until I can’t remember anything at all anymore. His bright hair, and his beautiful face. Those dazzling eyes that I’m going to be seeing in my dreams for the rest of my life. His lips that are never going to kiss me.

“Bye Gerard,” I say, and I turn. If he’s not going to close the door then I should just walk away.

“Bye Frank,” He calls after me, as quiet as he can while still being audible.

I don’t turn around and I don’t slow down until I reach the end of the hallway. I don’t even look back when I reach the door to the stairs. I don’t know if he closed the door after me, but I don’t turn to look. My stomach feels like it’s been replaced with a brick of chalk. I feel like screaming out or something, but I just keep walking. Down the stairs, out the lobby and then down the street.

Gerard might be watching me from the window, but I hope he isn’t. I hope he doesn’t see me lift a hand to my face and wipe away the tears that forms when I blink.