I'm the Last One That You'll Ever Remember
Chapter 207: Pastel Was Insane
Outside the Iero-Way household was a road of peace loving families going about their days with smiles on their faces. It was a typical sight to see in this safe, lavish neighborhood, however there was one individual brazenly striding up to the Iero-Way’s front door that didn’t possess the very same positive vibe. It was a daring woman that was clearly showing in her pregnancy.
Pastel knocked on the front door of the household of her baby daddy, discounting the looks she was getting from nearby neighbors as she publicly rambled under her breath while pacing in her all black ensemble. She had a good idea what they thought of her already, that she was some homeless junkie out of her mind that just so happened to wander past the security at the gates to get inside. Pastel could care less about what they thought of her, the only opinion that mattered was now Frank Iero whom she hoped was home today to answer the door. She needed to speak with him.
Poison had spoken of the boy quite often in the past. Actually, it was more like obsessively whether anyone was in the room with him to hear, or not. Pastel had been aware of this Frank’s existence for a long time and the tie that he had with Poison. Back then, she didn’t take it too seriously, and so she never felt threatened by her lover's infatuation over a former prize. They were Killjoys after all, any relationship like that with a captive was never meant to be, and besides, Poison had let the boy go in the end. If Poison had truly cared about the boy as much as everyone says he did then he would’ve never been able to bring himself to let Frank go. And so Pastel had always shrugged this Frank character off, and continued to fixate on crawling into bed with the man that she had ultimately fallen in love with.
Unfortunately, it turned out the link between Frank and Poison had never been terminated in the first place and had been left to prosper right in front of her.
That was why Pastel was here today to talk to the young boy that was once Poison’s captive. She was here to tell him that she was pregnant with his captor’s baby in hopes it would desecrate whatever was still alive between Poison and his prize.
If Gerard has remained with Frank after all this time, then that had to mean the two were together in some romantic attachment. And if it turned out they were still together, it was no wonder Poison refused to listen to her desperate pleas time and time again! Gerard was too distracted by this slut who had enchanted him long before Pastel ever became a Killjoy herself.
No matter. The news of Pastel’s pregnancy would certainly send this little man off to pack bags and delete himself permanently from the picture so Poison could FINALLY focus solely on her and their unborn child. Poison wanted to be the father of their baby, he just needed a little rescue on her end to get him on the right track.
Sadly for Pastel, that’s not how this meeting turned out.
When someone finally came to the door, it turned out to be Poison himself. He was taken aback at the sight of a disheveled and sickly looking Pastel on his doorstep, but that was instantly obstructed by a barely controlled rage at seeing her again. He was relieved that he was the one to answer the door instead of his curious young children, and grateful that he had decided to leave his newborn twin daughters down in their swing chairs with their bottles in front of the TV. If he had brought either one of them along with him when he answered the door, Pastel would have seen them right away.
Frank was away doing some overtime at the building he worked in, and so Gerard had the whole house to himself as well as the children who were outside playing in the backyard. In seconds he went from a doting, loving father to being dominated by a demonic violence that had been lying dormant deep within him since he quit being a Killjoy. He was Poison all over again as he stood glaring at Pastel in an oversize black coat with equally dark sunglasses over her eyes. With a growl, Poison stepped forward onto the front porch and shut the door behind so his children wouldn’t be able to hear them or join them. “What the hell are you doing here, Lindsey?!”
Stepping back from the acidic venom spewing from between his lips when he said her birth name, Pastel stammered over her words, the marrow of her bones becoming riddled with terror. “I…I need to talk with you. It’s i-important!”
Poison has heard this all before. It was always important to Pastel and yet he didn’t care. In fact, he never held back in letting her know he didn’t care. For some reason, it hasn’t sunk yet into her stubborn head that he doesn’t care. Leaning forward, Poison snapped at her, gritting his teeth like he was ready to sink them into her throat at any minute. “I have NOTHING to say to you now, or ever! Now get the hell off of my property or I’ll dismember you down in my basement!”
When Poison turned around to retreat back inside, Pastel cried out. “WAIT!” And without thinking, reached out and grabbed onto his arm to prohibit him from wrapping up their very undeveloped conversation. She couldn’t keep letting him walk away from his responsibility!
Moving fast the moment her hand made contact with his body, Poison whipped around and wrenched his arm from her grasp. Before she could see it coming, he had a hand close around her throat and was throwing her up against the side of his side, away from neighboring eyes. Ignoring Pastel’s cry as her head cracked against the sturdy siding, Poison leaned his face close to hers with a warning on his lips. “If you EVER put your hands on me again, Lindsey, I’ll take my selfish time breaking every last bone in your fingers while you watch them snap from under your own flesh without breaking through the skin!”
Gasping from the pain branching from the back of her head, Pastel curled her hands around his wrist, trying to relieve the pressure of his grip from around her throat. But he was stronger than her. Gritting her teeth at him, she responded back with irritation at his ill-treatment of her. “What the hell has gotten into you, Poison!? Why are you speaking to me like this!?”
Poison found himself taken aback for the second time that day at her insane question. Since the beginning of the Killjoys, he had always talked to everyone in this malevolent way. Pastel had never been excluded from that treatment before AND after they were sleeping together. He elected to remind her of this. “Have you lost your fucking mind, Lindsey!? I’ve ALWAYS talked to you like this! Since the moment we’ve met up till now!”
“Poison, stop!” Pastel begged him, clawing now at his wrists. “I’m pregnant!”
“I don’t fucking care!” Poison snapped back in rapid response, having heard this reason hundreds of times by now.
Did she really think he forgot about all that?
Sleeping with Pastel out of boredom has proven to be his biggest mistake! One that she was pushing him to rectify with all these unwanted visits of hers.
Pastel’s eyes widened at him upon hearing his inhospitable response to her pregnancy. Tears filled her eyes as she repeated his words back in the form of a question. “Y-You don’t care?”
“No, I fucking don’t.” Poison confirmed, feeling like a parrot having to rehash everything he’s ever told her since her announcement. His kind of rejection should have seared itself in her mind, and yet according to the heartbroken look shattering across her face, it was like she was hearing it for the very first time.
“You don’t c-care.” Pastel echoed in a trance-like state, her eyes dulling over. Her mind was dredging up old memories of the time the two spent together. She swore she could see it as clear as day in front of her. Their smiles when they’d talk about their future together late at night, giggling underneath the bed sheets, the kisses while making love, hand holding at the movies, walks along the beach, romantic dinner dates, shopping at the malls, and enjoying the carnival together. She could see it all before her. She could smell the popcorn in the air, feel the sand between her toes, and taste the cotton candy melting on her very tongue. “B-But after everything we’ve done together…our lov-”
“Goddamnit, Lindsey! STOP romanticizing our fucking past together!” Poison ordered her with a finger pointed directly at her face. “We were only ever fucking, and that’s it! That’s all you’ve ever been to me, a fucking lay to pass the goddamn time while I was bored out of my fucking mind!”
Refusing to believe it, Pastel shook her head as frantically as she could, causing tears to pour from her eyes. What they had was something, not nothing. What they had was beautiful and all he was trying to do was spit on it and tear it into pieces to hurt her! “No no no no no! No, there was more between us, Poison! We loved each other!”
Completely repulsed at this made-up fantasy she was spinning him, Poison released the hold he had on her throat before the idea of crushing her windpipe and watching her suffocate became too tempting for him to resist. Stepping back from her, Poison looked her up and down with a scoff and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Pastel was insane. “Fuck me. You’re seriously fucking deranged, aren’t you?”
Pastel knocked on the front door of the household of her baby daddy, discounting the looks she was getting from nearby neighbors as she publicly rambled under her breath while pacing in her all black ensemble. She had a good idea what they thought of her already, that she was some homeless junkie out of her mind that just so happened to wander past the security at the gates to get inside. Pastel could care less about what they thought of her, the only opinion that mattered was now Frank Iero whom she hoped was home today to answer the door. She needed to speak with him.
Poison had spoken of the boy quite often in the past. Actually, it was more like obsessively whether anyone was in the room with him to hear, or not. Pastel had been aware of this Frank’s existence for a long time and the tie that he had with Poison. Back then, she didn’t take it too seriously, and so she never felt threatened by her lover's infatuation over a former prize. They were Killjoys after all, any relationship like that with a captive was never meant to be, and besides, Poison had let the boy go in the end. If Poison had truly cared about the boy as much as everyone says he did then he would’ve never been able to bring himself to let Frank go. And so Pastel had always shrugged this Frank character off, and continued to fixate on crawling into bed with the man that she had ultimately fallen in love with.
Unfortunately, it turned out the link between Frank and Poison had never been terminated in the first place and had been left to prosper right in front of her.
That was why Pastel was here today to talk to the young boy that was once Poison’s captive. She was here to tell him that she was pregnant with his captor’s baby in hopes it would desecrate whatever was still alive between Poison and his prize.
If Gerard has remained with Frank after all this time, then that had to mean the two were together in some romantic attachment. And if it turned out they were still together, it was no wonder Poison refused to listen to her desperate pleas time and time again! Gerard was too distracted by this slut who had enchanted him long before Pastel ever became a Killjoy herself.
No matter. The news of Pastel’s pregnancy would certainly send this little man off to pack bags and delete himself permanently from the picture so Poison could FINALLY focus solely on her and their unborn child. Poison wanted to be the father of their baby, he just needed a little rescue on her end to get him on the right track.
Sadly for Pastel, that’s not how this meeting turned out.
When someone finally came to the door, it turned out to be Poison himself. He was taken aback at the sight of a disheveled and sickly looking Pastel on his doorstep, but that was instantly obstructed by a barely controlled rage at seeing her again. He was relieved that he was the one to answer the door instead of his curious young children, and grateful that he had decided to leave his newborn twin daughters down in their swing chairs with their bottles in front of the TV. If he had brought either one of them along with him when he answered the door, Pastel would have seen them right away.
Frank was away doing some overtime at the building he worked in, and so Gerard had the whole house to himself as well as the children who were outside playing in the backyard. In seconds he went from a doting, loving father to being dominated by a demonic violence that had been lying dormant deep within him since he quit being a Killjoy. He was Poison all over again as he stood glaring at Pastel in an oversize black coat with equally dark sunglasses over her eyes. With a growl, Poison stepped forward onto the front porch and shut the door behind so his children wouldn’t be able to hear them or join them. “What the hell are you doing here, Lindsey?!”
Stepping back from the acidic venom spewing from between his lips when he said her birth name, Pastel stammered over her words, the marrow of her bones becoming riddled with terror. “I…I need to talk with you. It’s i-important!”
Poison has heard this all before. It was always important to Pastel and yet he didn’t care. In fact, he never held back in letting her know he didn’t care. For some reason, it hasn’t sunk yet into her stubborn head that he doesn’t care. Leaning forward, Poison snapped at her, gritting his teeth like he was ready to sink them into her throat at any minute. “I have NOTHING to say to you now, or ever! Now get the hell off of my property or I’ll dismember you down in my basement!”
When Poison turned around to retreat back inside, Pastel cried out. “WAIT!” And without thinking, reached out and grabbed onto his arm to prohibit him from wrapping up their very undeveloped conversation. She couldn’t keep letting him walk away from his responsibility!
Moving fast the moment her hand made contact with his body, Poison whipped around and wrenched his arm from her grasp. Before she could see it coming, he had a hand close around her throat and was throwing her up against the side of his side, away from neighboring eyes. Ignoring Pastel’s cry as her head cracked against the sturdy siding, Poison leaned his face close to hers with a warning on his lips. “If you EVER put your hands on me again, Lindsey, I’ll take my selfish time breaking every last bone in your fingers while you watch them snap from under your own flesh without breaking through the skin!”
Gasping from the pain branching from the back of her head, Pastel curled her hands around his wrist, trying to relieve the pressure of his grip from around her throat. But he was stronger than her. Gritting her teeth at him, she responded back with irritation at his ill-treatment of her. “What the hell has gotten into you, Poison!? Why are you speaking to me like this!?”
Poison found himself taken aback for the second time that day at her insane question. Since the beginning of the Killjoys, he had always talked to everyone in this malevolent way. Pastel had never been excluded from that treatment before AND after they were sleeping together. He elected to remind her of this. “Have you lost your fucking mind, Lindsey!? I’ve ALWAYS talked to you like this! Since the moment we’ve met up till now!”
“Poison, stop!” Pastel begged him, clawing now at his wrists. “I’m pregnant!”
“I don’t fucking care!” Poison snapped back in rapid response, having heard this reason hundreds of times by now.
Did she really think he forgot about all that?
Sleeping with Pastel out of boredom has proven to be his biggest mistake! One that she was pushing him to rectify with all these unwanted visits of hers.
Pastel’s eyes widened at him upon hearing his inhospitable response to her pregnancy. Tears filled her eyes as she repeated his words back in the form of a question. “Y-You don’t care?”
“No, I fucking don’t.” Poison confirmed, feeling like a parrot having to rehash everything he’s ever told her since her announcement. His kind of rejection should have seared itself in her mind, and yet according to the heartbroken look shattering across her face, it was like she was hearing it for the very first time.
“You don’t c-care.” Pastel echoed in a trance-like state, her eyes dulling over. Her mind was dredging up old memories of the time the two spent together. She swore she could see it as clear as day in front of her. Their smiles when they’d talk about their future together late at night, giggling underneath the bed sheets, the kisses while making love, hand holding at the movies, walks along the beach, romantic dinner dates, shopping at the malls, and enjoying the carnival together. She could see it all before her. She could smell the popcorn in the air, feel the sand between her toes, and taste the cotton candy melting on her very tongue. “B-But after everything we’ve done together…our lov-”
“Goddamnit, Lindsey! STOP romanticizing our fucking past together!” Poison ordered her with a finger pointed directly at her face. “We were only ever fucking, and that’s it! That’s all you’ve ever been to me, a fucking lay to pass the goddamn time while I was bored out of my fucking mind!”
Refusing to believe it, Pastel shook her head as frantically as she could, causing tears to pour from her eyes. What they had was something, not nothing. What they had was beautiful and all he was trying to do was spit on it and tear it into pieces to hurt her! “No no no no no! No, there was more between us, Poison! We loved each other!”
Completely repulsed at this made-up fantasy she was spinning him, Poison released the hold he had on her throat before the idea of crushing her windpipe and watching her suffocate became too tempting for him to resist. Stepping back from her, Poison looked her up and down with a scoff and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Pastel was insane. “Fuck me. You’re seriously fucking deranged, aren’t you?”