Demolition Lovers

Gerard Way…

Now where to start with Gerard Way?

I wish I could say he was the most amazing thing to ever happen to me, that he was prince charming, and that our story was one of those epic loves stories you read about in books, or see in movies. But no, this was not a book, nor a movie, and Gerard Way was nothing but a boy that could never see me the way I saw him.

You know, love sucks. Most people think it’s amazing, but honestly, it’s not all quite what it’s cracked up to be. Falling in love with Gerard Way was like those first couple of seconds on a rollercoaster as your cart climbs slowly up the lift hill. Leaning back as your pumping heart is making a scene and you’re building up the strength to scream and you’re wondering if you can’t turn around now, if you can’t press the stop button and slide back down, if you could at least stay in this spot for a little while longer.

You wanted to stay in the moment forever, but sadly, nothing lasts forever.

I had met Gerard through Mikey; his younger brother. And no, it was not love at first site, so don’t bother getting your hopes up. Gerard Way was the type of person that gave off the illusion that they didn’t care about anyone or anything. But in reality, he cared too much; and in the end, that would turn out to be his untimely downfall.

The first time I had seen him, with his greasy black hair, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, and if it wasn’t for the comic book resting in his lap, I would have thought he was mysterious in a way, but as I had stepped through the threshold of his door with Mikey, my immediate thoughts had been; what a slob.

The smell of cigarettes had lingered in the air, rock music was playing in the background, and dirty clothes had littered the floor; making it almost impossible to navigate around the room.
It was an unattractive first impression, to say the least.

Besides the fact that we both smoked, we didn’t have much in common; and I guess that was why whenever we hung out it was extremely awkward. He was the kid with a dream to be a comic book artist and mine was that I wanted to play guitar. I remember the time I actually tried teaching Gerard guitar, but he was hopeless. See, for me, playing the guitar came naturally, and so I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t even manage to play ‘Sweet Home Alabama’, I mean, it was so easy.

When I was younger, I used to imagine myself being some famous musician, on a massive stage, with massive crowds. And of course Mikey would be there, seeing as he could also play, and maybe even Gerard; seeing as Mikey never shut up about what a good voice he had. Although I never got to hear his singing, I still liked to imagine that future, a life where I could actually make a difference, maybe even change people’s lives.

Although Gerard and I’s first encounter wasn’t very memorable, I can only imagine what his first impression of me would have been. I was Frank Iero, the kid with the messy hair and a bad attitude, not exactly the boy you bring home to meet your parents. But for some odd, peculiar reason, Gerard’s parents had actually liked me; although I was pretty sure they just felt sorry for me.

If people weren’t bullying me, they were pitying me, and I never quite figured out which was worst.

Speaking of bullies, high school, (like any other teenager would say) was shit. Before Mikey came along, I was a bit of a recluse; or a loner as one might say. But I’m here to say this now, things do get better after high school, and I only wish I had known that at the time.

The first time Gerard had come to my house I hadn’t expected him to be accompanying Mikey for our weekly jam session. And had seen that I was just as much of a slob as he was.

Cigarettes and beer cans had littered the floor, along with empty pizza boxes and dirty clothes taking up every inch of my room. And around that time, my appearance had looked as shit as my room. From my dirty shoulder length dreadlocks, to the dark circles that surrounded my puffy and bloodshot hazel eyes; I could imagine what an unattractive sight that must have been. Of course at the time I hadn’t really given a damn, considering grade twelve was a rather shit year for me.

Grade twelve was memorable to say the least, but there was no good memory without a bad one to accompany it. My last year of high school was when I met Mikey and Gerard, which, in a way had to be the best thing to ever happen to me. But it was also the year that my father left, and was around the same time that my mother and I’s relationship took a turn for the worst.

My mother and I had always an okay relationship, I mean sure, we had our differences at times, but we worked through it in the end. It all went bad after my father left, going on about how he couldn’t handle it anymore, and I never knew why, but my mother always blamed me for his departure. Not long after she had taken up drinking, much like my father had; and I guess that’s why I had a craving for alcohol in stressful situations.

I knew it didn’t make the problems disappear, but I’d do anything for those moments where I could just forget the problems; if only for a short while.

Anyways, on the day that Gerard had come to my house, Mikey and I had done our usual thing, while he had curiously observed each and everything in my room. He always had a sort of childlike curiosity about him, and it really came to show when he saw the two Gibson Les Paul’s placed in the right corner of my room, one named Pansy and the other named Texas.

He had seemed so intrigued, and begged me to play something. I’ll never forget the way he looked at me that day, awe plastered across his features as he had sat cross-legged on my floor watching like I was the only person in the world.

And I had liked it, I wanted other people to look up to me like that; but in that moment it was only Gerard I could see smiling up at me from his position on the floor, and I would have preferred no one else.

After that day, I had hung out with Gerard a lot more, and came to find out that he wasn’t all that bad. With the trio of Mikey, Gerard, and I, we were basically inseparable.

I remember the first time we had been alone together, just Gerard and I. we were hanging out at the record store with Mikey when Gerard had announced he was going out for a smoke, and myself, not really having anything better to do; had decided to join him.

We had been outside for about a minute when the awkwardness had begun to set in, and me, being the absolute idiot that I was, had blurted out;

“Do you watch gay porn?” Oh my god, like who even asks that Frank you fucking idiot.
He had turned to me, his cigarette falling from his lips and an incredulous look on his face, before he had busted out laughing.

And I would have laughed to, if it weren’t for the fact that I was legitimately curious after accidentally blurting the question out.

“So do you?” I had prodded after a minute of him trying to regain his breath, only for him to immediately stand up properly and look me in the eye; most likely wondering if I was even serious or not.

“Well, um, I uh..” He had spluttered, his cheeks going red. I took that as a yes then. I mean, Mikey had told me Gerard was gay, but he had never told me himself.

“Its okay, I was just fucking with you man.” I had replied, patting him on the back and heading back inside, leaving him standing there bewildered, whilst I myself was trying not to die of embarrassment.

That day was one of the best days I’d had in a while to be honest, but of course, it didn’t last, and when I had returned home the only thing that had greeted me was a drunk mother and a room that smelt only of sadness and ash.