With Everything I Won't Let This Go

Frank was distraught, and so was I. I'd started referring to him as my dad, but not actually calling him 'dad'; I didn't want to give him any cause for upset. I still believed it was my fault that Jamia had left, even if it was just existing, I'd take the blame. Kaytee had tried to convince me otherwise, and even though my feelings for her had grown so strong that I wanted to hit people any time they hugged her, out of pure jealousy, I still didn't listen to her.

I couldn't talk to Frank, because he was holed up in the bunks section of the bus, mourning over the loss of Jamia and constantly trying to phone her whilst she told him she was filing for divorce papers; I couldn't talk to Gerard because I was still overcome by what had happened between us all those days ago; I couldn't talk to Kaytee because that would have meant telling her how I really felt.

I took that chance anyway.

"Kay...?" I asked quietly whilst we were alone in the den, playing xBox.

"Mm?" she replied, flicking a stick on the joy-pad with angry enthusiasm.

"Have you ever had feelings... like, love feelings...?" I asked, unable to finish.

She looked at me. "Kind of. I never really looked at them like that, though."

"Well..." I gulped. "Have you ever had those feelings for a girl?"

She just raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

I gulped again. "I kinda have feelings for a girl."

"Oh," she said.

There was silence for a while. I almost hoped she'd guessed that it was her who I felt for, but she didn't shift away or stop playing the game, or even change her attitude towards me. So I just guessed she'd not figured it out.

Sighing, I continued playing the game with her, not doing as well as I usually did, even though it was the same skateboarding xBox game I'd got almost pro at, with playing it nearly none stop the last two and a half weeks.

I wished I could have told her.

*

The band had scheduled a few more tours; Gerard had figured they would raise Frank's spirits a little, after losing Jamia and all, and me nearly dieing. Again. So we had to journey around the state of New Jersey a little more. I got closer to home, then farther from home. I didn't know which one I liked more.

I was still in close proximity of Kaytee. I noticed all of the little things she did. The way, when she drank Starbucks frothy Hot Cocoa, she got a little on the tip of her nose, then giggled as she was told and wiped her nose delicately with a serviette; the way she always looked peaceful when she slept, even if she said she'd had a nightmare about her parents the night before; even the way she formed her words, the accent she had - a kind of mix of Nevada, New Jersey and California, maybe from all the foster parents and moving around because of them.

My feelings for her got stronger by the minute, and I was constantly tempted to tell her how I felt or to just show her, which seemed simpler to me. But whether I'd get a smile, a confused look or her walking away completely flooded my mind whenever I was about to kiss her.

Whenever she smiled at me, my heart lept in my chest. Whenever she said my name, I melted ever so slightly. Whenever she laughed I felt myself smiling at how beautiful she was. But I just couldn't tell anyone.

*

We were at the Riverfront Stadium in Newark when September rolled around. Gerard, Mikey and Frank were all down on the first of September. It may have been because it was the definitive last show of the 2018 US Tour, but I suspected something more. So I talked to Mikey.

"Why are you three so down?" I asked him, over a strawberry cheesecake and Grande Iced Caramel Machiato's.

"Loryn's birthday..." he mumbled, gently attacking the cheesecake with a fork in his limp hand.

My heart sank. If she'd died on my birthday... she hadn't even made twenty; she was only days short. I suddenly felt a great weight land on my shoulders as I started to blame myself for my mothers' death.

Even the concert didn't cheer me up. I watched Dad on stage, putting on a front for the crowd, hugging Gerard every opportunity to whisper things into his ear, which Gerard obviously answered, and even hugging Mikey to get his points of view on the same thing.

I bopped gently to the music, having heard it all before and not feeling remotely as special as Kaytee or the crowd who was screaming every word. It would go round school soon that I was the daughter of someone famous; everyone would want to be my friend. I don't think I could deal with that much attention.

*

Frank, Gerard and Mikey seemed a lot happier after the concert. Frank seemed to forget all of his troubles, about losing the love of his life and losing the only woman in sixteen years he'd ever got close to again. I hoped he would stay happy for long enough for me to approach him about my situation.

"D- Frank...?" I asked timidly, sitting next to his smiling figure on the sofa.

"Yes, honey?" he asked, still smiling and putting his arm round my shoulder.

"I think I'm in love with someone, but it's a bad thing..." I said quietly.

He paused. "Is it one of the guys? Is it Gerard?" he asked, a warning look in his eyes.

"No," I said, matter-of-factly.

"Oh. Good. Who is it then?" he asked, going back to smiling.

"Kaytee..." I whispered.

***
Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There's always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lie
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference
Escaping one last time
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

As Frank
You go back to the hospital, two days later. Your eyes are red, sullen and puffy. It's obvious you have been crying, but it's more obvious you're drunk. You haven't slept, you've just drank bottle after bottle of cheap beer. But you stagger, inebriated, into the ward you vaguely remember someone you know dieing in.

Stumbling into the ward, people look at you with twisted up faces, knowing what state you're in. Physically. No one understands your mental state. You've lost the love of your life, you've given up your child to your loves one last living relative. You're depressed, it's a fact. Yet no one bothers to ask why you're so wasted.

Erryn is in the baby room, holding and cooing over your daughter, holding back her tears of pain and loss. She hasn't gone the way you have. She just cries. But Erryn has someone to fall back on. You don't; you feel alone, lost, confused. You can't trust your friends to understand, even though you know two of them are feeling almost exactly the same.

You walk to your almost-sister-in-law, whose nose twitches as she holds back the urge to crinkle her face at your booze-cabinet scent. Your eyes ignore all of her, and you stare at the pink bundle in her arms. You automatically seem to sober up at the sight of you two and a half day old daughter.

Erryn offers the baby to you, and you hesitantly take the child from her arms. You have no idea how to hold a child; at least Erryn has experience. This reaffirms your belief that the baby would be better off in the care of her auntie, never knowing a Loryn existed, or that the family she had grown up in was a lie.

You hold the baby carefully, and she opens her eyes to look up at you. She seems to almost known. Her huge browns stare into yours as the rest of her face looks blank. She's only a baby; she doesn't know emotions yet.

Suddenly, the baby starts to cry. Out of panic, you give her fiercely back to Erryn, who looks at you almost harshly, as you've made the baby cry more. In instinct, Erryn knows what the baby needs: a feed. You would never have known.

Falling hopelessly into a chair, you hold back your tears as you watch the two day old drinking from a bottle. Loryn had always planned to breast-feed. Erryn hadn't ever breast-fed, therefore Laurie had to bottle feed.

You're useless, pathetic and a waste. In your own mind anyway. No one else thinks this, but you do. But you hold yourself together, for the baby. For Loryn in the heavens and for the sanity of the new guardian of your child.

You still can't believe she's gone...
***