Breaking Hearts Still Looks Pretty Cool

Dear Connie,

WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN??????? YOU SAID YOU WOULD EMAIL ME EVERY DAY AND HAVE YOU? HAVE YOU HELL!

Sorry for the caps, but seriously girl! I need the gossip! The 411! What are Green Day like? What’s going on with Gerard? Are you keeping up with work? Is it weird being with Gerard all the time? How are you coping? What’s going on? SERIOUSLY, WTF?? Are you EVER going to write me? Are we still on for the New York show?

Ana, Sinead, Johnny and I are all missing you a lot. There isn’t really much else to report. I’m guessing you’re watching The Hills online? What the hell’s up with Audrina? She just can’t keep away from Justin. I guess it’s just like that with some guys, you just always love them...like you and Gerard maybe? Couldn’t help throwing that in :p

If you don’t reply to this, I’m going to get in my frickin’ car and come and find you!

Loads of love, Reagan xxxxxx

I resisted the urge to chuckle out loud as I read Reagan’s email and immediately hit the reply button. Reading the message reminded me that my whole life was starting to become dominated by the tour, it was the only thing that seemed real to me; my life was confined to the stifling bus, and the few stops we paused briefly at. Everything was a blur of amazing shows and complete breathlessness – breathlessness courtesy of Gerard, of course; as usual.

I used the opportunity of staring at the screen to survey everyone else in the room over the top of my laptop.

Gerard immediately drew my eye, sitting reading what I noticed was one of my poetry books, the collected poems of Sylvia Plath. That made me smile so widely that I ducked my head so that no one could see. I could not quite work out what was going on with Gerard and I. Since we had almost kissed upstairs the previous week, he had gone back to treating me in the exact same way; friendly bordering on flirtatious, but never clear on what was going on inside his mind. I stared into his hazel eyes and got lost in them, but I was unable to gauge any answers to the incessant questions that plagued my mind. I made a mental note to discuss Plath with him later, before looking at everyone else.

Bob and Annabelle were chatting animatedly, sat at the table, each munching happily on a pop tart. They were steadily becoming more and more inseparable, and I could tell from the way his features softened when he looked at her that he was falling for her, hard Annabelle’s frivolous attitude towards men made it difficult to work out what she might be feeling, but I had a sneaking suspicion that her affections were realigning themselves in Bob’s favour. The fact that they were growing ever closer was not the strangest thing, though; the strangeness was in the fact that Mikey seemed totally unaffected by what was going on. Whether he was oblivious or just indifferent I could not tell, but the awkward glances I exchanged with everyone else told me that I was not the only one left baffled by the situation.

Ray and Frank were having a hyper conversation, both of them looking extremely excited. I smiled involuntarily, with an overwhelming feeling of goodwill in my stomach. There was only one thing that could make my life get any better...my gaze irresistibly flicked back to Gerard.

Hi Reagan,

Sorry sorry sorry! I know, it’s been forever, but I’ve just been too busy! Tour is AMAZING. No joke, the shows are always good, and Green Day are such nice guys! We actually get to hang out with them too, which is great! Not much to add to that really, it’s all just amazing. You must tell Jonny, Sinead and Ana that I miss them and that I WILL email them at some point, I’m just...having too much fun to even work! As for the New York show, OBVIOUSLY! I can’t WAIT to see you all! I mean it, I love you guys! Um...can’t say much about Gerard now, but it’s safe to say that the spark’s still there...and Annabelle and Bob are totally falling for each other! We’ll have to talk more some other time! How could I not catch up with The Hills online! I always had a soft spot for Justin, I think that deep down he really loves her. “I want you to be with me!” Can you imagine if someone said that to you?! I would just MELT!! Speaking of melting, Gerard and I actually almost kissed the other day, but I don’t want to blow it out of proportion so don’t freak out. In all honestly, I would give anything to get over Gerard right now. Seriously.

Love you, Connie xxxxxxxx

I typed my response very rapidly, glancing up every few seconds to see what was going on with everyone else. Not much changed, except Gerard’s facial expressions as he moved on to a new poem and tried to make it out. I smiled, and completely failed to resist the urge to discard my computer and go to him after hitting the ‘send’ button.

“Liking the Plath?” I asked, coming over inexplicably nervous as I sat down next to him,

“I am, actually,” Gerard smiled warmly at me, “but some of this stuff is a bit dark...what happened to her?”

“She killed herself,” I said with an involuntary shudder, “gas,”

He shuddered too and set the book down, “still a legend,” he murmured, “your taste in poetry is very good,”

I smiled, “as is your taste in art monsieur,” I replied,

He laughed, “It’s just what I’m best at,”

We locked eyes, “That’s my point,” I replied quietly, “I haven’t seen any of your art in ages,” I added ruefully,

“You really want to see some?” he asked, with a slightly uncertain look on his face, as though he was indulging in some sort of guilty pleasure.

“Yeah,” I said, thrilled as I noticed that we were getting ever so slightly closer.

“Come on then, I have a little bit upstairs,” he said matter-of-factly, getting to his feet and inexplicably glancing furtively around the room.

I mirrored his gestures, and then followed him obediently up stairs and to the segment of the dormitory-style bedroom that we shared, due to the close proximity of our beds.

“Sometimes when there’s not much going on I come up here by myself and just draw a bit,” he said, sitting on his bed and pulling out a black leather-bound sketch book from underneath his suitcase. I tentatively sat down next to him, being careful not to get too close.

“Do you still draw all that twisted stuff?” I asked cheekily, remembering the slightly disturbing, if thought-provoking nature of his previous work.

He grinned crookedly at me, “Yes,” he said, “but not right now, I only brought pencils with me,”

I nodded, eagerly anticipating seeing the drawings.

He carefully opened the book so that I could not see what was in it; he then selected a page and laid it out across both of our laps.

There were a series of abstract, indefinable images that seemed to represent a mind in turmoil; in the corner, there was a single, plump heart which he had paid a lot of attention to, shading it and making it appear to be actually throbbing.

“I like the heart,” I observed, gesturing to it, “why is it there?”

He shrugged, “felt like it,” he said simply. He seemed to be slightly regretting his decision to share his art now; his grip on the book tensed, and was acting as though he wanted to withdraw it. He made an attempt to turn the page discretely as he had done before, so that I couldn’t see what was on each page, but his fingers fumbled and the book fell open, revealing the middle pages.

I gasped; on one of the pages, there was a detailed drawing that was like looking in a mirror.

“That’s me,” I murmured unnecessarily. There were several other smaller sketches of me on the opposite page; it was like a study of my movements.

I caught sight of a blush creeping up Gerard’s seemly neck and on to his cheeks.

“Are there more?” I asked curiously, my heart beating furiously.

He shrugged, and allowed me full custody of the book. I turned the pages, enthralled to see myself in many guises; working at my laptop, laughing with Frank, staring into space looking completely contemplative.

“It’s not like...” Gerard started to say,

“Like what?” I asked. I felt overwhelmed with emotion, for some reason, and I wanted to kiss him desperately.

“Like Matt,” he said uncertainly, “I mean, I just wanted to draw someone...and you’re just really beautiful, you’re the only person I’d draw properly,”

I flushed pink.

“Really?” I asked, daring to move a little closer to him,

“Of course,” he sounded bewildered, “I mean, you know that,”

Our eyes locked, and we slowly started to move closer to each other, our eyes fixed on each other’s lips. The butterflies in my stomach reached fever pitch, and I was just conscious of the fact that I stopped breathing.

Gerard’s eyes flickered shut, and I let mine do the same; I could feel his breath on my lips, so I prepared myself for impending ecstasy.

“Gerard?” yelled Mikey’s voice from downstairs. I resisted the urge to sigh loudly in frustration. Why was it always Mikey who interrupted us at crucial moments?
Gerard sighed, turning away seemingly reluctantly, “what, Mikey?” his voice sounded tense.

“I have mom on my cell, she wants to speak to you,”
Gerard’s face relaxed, and he stood up, “don’t go anywhere...” he said, holding out his hand as if to physically restrain me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I replied, unintentionally quietly.

He thudded lightly off, and I could hear that he was running down the stairs alarmingly quickly.

Almost the minute he left, I felt a frantic vibration underneath me. After a few seconds of feeling around blindly, my hands closed around Gerard’s small black phone. Without thinking, I flipped it open and held it to my ear.

“Hello?” I answered,

“Hi, who’s this?” asked a female voice,

My jaw slackened in shock, “I’m Connie,” I said, unable to keep defensiveness out of my voice, “may I ask who you are?”

“My name is Jessica,” she said haughtily, and there was no denying that she felt as defensive as I did, “and I’d like to talk to Gerard, if you please,”

“Well,” I said as politely as I could, “I don’t think he’s around right-“

Gerard returned, looking surprised to see me on his phone.

I pulled it away from my ear, “It’s Jessica,” I said quietly, praying that she was not who I suspected she might be.

His mouth dropped open and steadily his face turned white.

“I should probably take that,” he said quietly, holding out his hand. Full of regret, I placed the small black handset in his outstretched palm.

“Hey,” he said into his cell, his tone completely indiscernible, “yeah...it’s been a while”

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