Killing's Just A Game

I stomp back into the bus, Jimmy at my heels. The guys are all seated at the table, and as we enter, their eyes grow wide and that awkward we-were-totally-just-talking-about-you silence settles over the room. Mikey and Gerard exchange an apprehensive glance, before looking up at me expectantly.

"Guys, is it cool if Jimmy tags along for a week or so?" I ask, shifting my eyes side to side in attempt to communicate, Say no!

"Sure," Frank says, always the chipper one. "We'd love to get to know some of Mel's family. Right guys?"

All of the guys chime in little mutterings of approval, except for Gerard, who is still staring me down.

"Great," I reply, trying to stay enthusiastic. "Guys, this is Jimmy. Jimmy, you've met Frank. This is Bob, Ray, Mikey, and Gerard."

"It's nice to finally meet the guys that my sister keeps bragging about," Jimmy states, wrapping his arm around my shoulder in a chummy way. I carefully shrug it off and go towards the bunks with the excuse of changing before the guys go on stage. It's a good excuse, as it's late July and scorching outside, and I'm wearing black skinny jeans.

I'm lucky enough to find a pair of shorts, but I can't find any of my tank tops. After scouring through the random piles of clothes, I find a sort of small tshirt of Gerard's and decide to borrow it. If he can steal my eyeliner, I can steal his clothes. It's only fair.

My back is to the curtain, and I'm so intent on eavesdropping on the kitchen (an attempt I'm sorely failing at) that I don't even realize that someone else has joined me. The newcomer clears his throat. Shocked, I turn around, clad in cropped denim shorts and my black bra.

"Jesus, Gee. You scared the shit of me!" I whisper, slipping his shirt over my head.

"Yes you can borrow my shirt," he replies, ignoring my chiding. "It does look good on you. Although I dare say, it looks better off."

I roll my eyes, feeling my cheeks flush just a tad. "Can I help you?"

"What's up with you and your brother?" he asks, cutting straight to the chase.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not happy that he's here," Gerard states, stepping closer to me.

"I just...I don't like it when he butts in on my life," I reply, which is technically true. Although this has never happened before.

"Why is he really here?" Gerard steps closer again so that we're face to face, or rather, face to neck, as he's quite a bit taller than me.

"I don't know," I lie. "I think he's just worried about me." Somewhat true...

"But you're pissed that he's checking up on you." It's not a question.

"Yes, obviously."

"What's going on, Mel?" Gerard asks. His voice is such a mixture of concern, accusation, and curiosity that I can't stand it. I don't know what to say. I don't want to lie to him, but I have to.

"Nothing, everything's fine, Gee."

"Bull shit," his hazel eyes bore into mine, making me melt and shiver simultaneously.

I'm transparent. I'm a ghost.

"I just have a lot on my plate right now, and I don't need Jimmy on top of it all."

"Like what?"

"What do you mean, what?" I ask, hoping to confuse and deter him.

"What's so damn stressful?" he presses.

He's not going to stop pushing until he gets a specific answer. I'm out of lies, out of excuses. I can't think clearly with those eyes on me so intently, with that voice so syrupy with intent. I have no plays, no escape, no anything. I can't do what I need to. I can't say what I want. So I do what I want and damn the rest to hell.

I wrap my arms around Gerard's neck, locking my fingers in his jet black hair and pull his lips to mine. He responds immediately, snaking his arms around my hips and kissing me back. I pull him closer, and he bites my bottom lip. Hard. I gasp, and he takes advantage of the moment, and intertwines his tongue with mine. His hands find his way to my skin, and just as he is pulling at the button of my jeans, another intruder clears his throat.

"Well it's about fucking time," Mikey laughs.

"God damnit, Mikey," Gerard mutters, voice throaty and raw. He locks his gaze with mine, and I can practically see the lustful images in his imagination. "This better be fucking important."

"Our set starts in an hour, we need to change and go up to the stage."

"Okay, just give us a minute," I say after a moment of heated silence.

When Mikey retreats back to the kitchen, I burst in to a fit of giggles.

"Well that was awkward," I laugh, pulling away from Gerard.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asks, yanking me back into him by my belt loops.

"To the kitchen?" I ask.

"Oh like hell you are," he states defiantly, leaning in and placing a kiss on my neck. He traces a line of kisses up to my earlobe, sending a series of shivers throughout my body.

"Is that so Mr. Way?" I inquire, finally regaining control of my thoughts.

"Mhmm," he whispers. "I'm not finished with you just yet."