Status: Updating the fourth chapter as of now.
Brothers on a Hotel Bed
Fourteen
Had we thought of the consequences, maybe this whole ordeal could have been avoided. Maybe you'd still be around, maybe you wouldn't. Who knows? Maybe things would have stayed the same; you and I could of gone on living- taking no time to stop and realize we weren't actually living at all. We were surviving on what little we still had; a rescue buoy with the letters that spelled love on the front was something frequently pulled out of the boat and cast down to save one of us. Or even both. Usually, the line was too short, we were too far away from the boat to ever expect a safe return, and we'd drown just a little bit more every time.
I knew you tried your best to protect what we had, even if it meant bringing harm to yourself and your family and friends. Maybe if I had been another year older, I would have understood just all those things that you'd kept from me. From the pills to the drinking to the drugs- but I was fourteen. And naïve. Even though our relationship was consensual, you'd always had the upper say in what we did and what we didn't do. As was the decision to do whatever it was to keep it a secret from our friends. Even the closest like Frank or Ray. Which bothered me, even if I never told you. The intensity of our love was something that should have been shared, not reclused into something foreign, even to us.
No one ever thinks of the consequences until the outcome wasn't what they'd expected. This was unfortunately one of those times.
* * *
“Truth or dare?” Frank asked me with a wryly smile.
Casually, I said, “truth.”
“Alright. If you could do one thing right now. Anything- possible or not- what would you do? And be honest, Mikey.”
I sat cross-legged on the hard wooden floor of the Ieros' New York apartment, looking up at the ceiling in a mock concentrated face. Smashing Pumpkins was playing softly on the stereo that was located in the far end of the room and the lights were dim, which reminded me of the last night we were together. I could hear popcorn popping in the microwave and I wondered if Ray was standing there, watching it like he usually watches all things unusual. I smirked to myself.
“Mikes?”
“I don't know, Frank,” I lied. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Something I felt was my duty and my regret. “I'd probably tell my brother goodbye.”
“Jeez, Mikey. I thought you were over what happened.”
I slung my head down and picked at my nails. “He's my brother. I can't forget.”
I heard the shuffle of body against rug and soon saw the shadow of Frank hovering over me. I then felt a warm hand on my back. “Exactly. You knew him better than anyone. He'd want you to move on, right?”
* * *
A firm, sweaty hand grabbed protectively around my shoulder. “Don't forget about me, Mikey. I have to go away but I promise to call you or email you. We can even meet sometime. Somewhere.”
“But why? What's wrong with staying here? Did Mom or Dad find something out? Is Frank or Ray suspi-” Another perspired hand was placed over my mouth. My eyes widened, and he smiled his crooked, bright smile.
“You don't need to know,” he said, dropping his hand. “It's not important enough to worry you.”
I squinted my eyebrows while thinking about his statement. Think back at everything we've been through so far. I told myself; he wouldn’t say not to worry if he didn’t mean it.
* * *
The day he left was like any other. Outside, the sun was just peeking out over the tops of the trees in our yard. The air was thick with fog (as it was early in the morning). Gerard and I sat in the driveway, hands in our pockets. Silence, no need for words, yet I felt like screaming every possible excuse for him not to leave. I don't think the realization hit me until he sighed and stood up, rubbing loose gravel from his pants and then offering his hand to me.
I stood up and followed him over to his car. He'd packed his things the night before and made sure our parents thought he was going out of town on business for the Network. When he opened the driver's door and got in, I stepped as close as I could to his car, and stuck my head in through the open window.
“You'll call me later, right Gerard?”
“You know it.”
And again we were together, silent and not saying anything at all. I watched Gerard check his mirrors very cautiously and even turn to check over the backseat and out the window for himself. Then, very quickly; almost like it hadn't even happened at all, he kissed me lightly and pulled away.
“I'll see you later, Michael.”
I knew you tried your best to protect what we had, even if it meant bringing harm to yourself and your family and friends. Maybe if I had been another year older, I would have understood just all those things that you'd kept from me. From the pills to the drinking to the drugs- but I was fourteen. And naïve. Even though our relationship was consensual, you'd always had the upper say in what we did and what we didn't do. As was the decision to do whatever it was to keep it a secret from our friends. Even the closest like Frank or Ray. Which bothered me, even if I never told you. The intensity of our love was something that should have been shared, not reclused into something foreign, even to us.
No one ever thinks of the consequences until the outcome wasn't what they'd expected. This was unfortunately one of those times.
* * *
“Truth or dare?” Frank asked me with a wryly smile.
Casually, I said, “truth.”
“Alright. If you could do one thing right now. Anything- possible or not- what would you do? And be honest, Mikey.”
I sat cross-legged on the hard wooden floor of the Ieros' New York apartment, looking up at the ceiling in a mock concentrated face. Smashing Pumpkins was playing softly on the stereo that was located in the far end of the room and the lights were dim, which reminded me of the last night we were together. I could hear popcorn popping in the microwave and I wondered if Ray was standing there, watching it like he usually watches all things unusual. I smirked to myself.
“Mikes?”
“I don't know, Frank,” I lied. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Something I felt was my duty and my regret. “I'd probably tell my brother goodbye.”
“Jeez, Mikey. I thought you were over what happened.”
I slung my head down and picked at my nails. “He's my brother. I can't forget.”
I heard the shuffle of body against rug and soon saw the shadow of Frank hovering over me. I then felt a warm hand on my back. “Exactly. You knew him better than anyone. He'd want you to move on, right?”
* * *
A firm, sweaty hand grabbed protectively around my shoulder. “Don't forget about me, Mikey. I have to go away but I promise to call you or email you. We can even meet sometime. Somewhere.”
“But why? What's wrong with staying here? Did Mom or Dad find something out? Is Frank or Ray suspi-” Another perspired hand was placed over my mouth. My eyes widened, and he smiled his crooked, bright smile.
“You don't need to know,” he said, dropping his hand. “It's not important enough to worry you.”
I squinted my eyebrows while thinking about his statement. Think back at everything we've been through so far. I told myself; he wouldn’t say not to worry if he didn’t mean it.
* * *
The day he left was like any other. Outside, the sun was just peeking out over the tops of the trees in our yard. The air was thick with fog (as it was early in the morning). Gerard and I sat in the driveway, hands in our pockets. Silence, no need for words, yet I felt like screaming every possible excuse for him not to leave. I don't think the realization hit me until he sighed and stood up, rubbing loose gravel from his pants and then offering his hand to me.
I stood up and followed him over to his car. He'd packed his things the night before and made sure our parents thought he was going out of town on business for the Network. When he opened the driver's door and got in, I stepped as close as I could to his car, and stuck my head in through the open window.
“You'll call me later, right Gerard?”
“You know it.”
And again we were together, silent and not saying anything at all. I watched Gerard check his mirrors very cautiously and even turn to check over the backseat and out the window for himself. Then, very quickly; almost like it hadn't even happened at all, he kissed me lightly and pulled away.
“I'll see you later, Michael.”