Spike Me and Save Me

Frank’s P.O.V.

I loved touring! It kept my mind busy. It kept my thoughts about the wedding at bay. I could just enjoy the music, the crowd, the cool night air hitting my heated and adrenalin-hit body – and watching Gerard performing. He was gorgeous. I enjoyed watching him from afar – loving every inch of him. Even though I never did anything about it – not anymore – I knew he knew how I felt.
He would catch my glances – or stares, at times – and either wink or smile at me. He knew what I was doing and how I felt, and his winks, waves and smiles let me know that he felt the same. Even though everything had changed with all the marriages, I still didn’t feel any different – and I didn’t feel guilty about it. It was somehow okay within me to love both Jamia and Gerard. Somehow I loved them differently, but equally as much. They both oozed sex, but Jamia had a more maternal sex appeal.
Gerard was pure lust, whilst Jamia was a woman I saw myself settling down with – having kids with. Her full, round curves signalled all the fertility in the world. When I saw her, I could clearly see our future children, pets and lives play out in my mind. When I was with her, I wanted nothing more than to have our kids running around us. I had never doubted that she was the one I would spend the rest of my life with.
Yet even though all of this was as clear as daylight to me, I was still petrified of the wedding coming up. So far the touring and playing had taken my mind off of the wedding, but once we got home to take a break, it all came down on me like a ton of bricks.
Jamia would ask me about colors for the flowers and tablecloths and napkins. She would give me a bunch of names and a seating-chart and ask me to make a suggestion, but as soon as I would look down, my mind would go blank. It seemed that every time I was to make a decision – or even just a suggestion – I froze. My mind would stop. My heart would be racing, but my brain would be travelling at 0 mph.

One night when Jamia was in New York to look at dresses and flowers and god knows what, I was alone in our small house. I loved our home – it was just right for us and our future together – but that night, I just couldn’t relax. In every room there were reminders of the fact that the wedding was this Sunday. Color-charts, seating-charts and bridal-magazines were spread throughout the living room. The bedroom was filled with pictures of flowers, pictures of us and an album with the words “Our Wedding” written in gold on the cover. Even the kitchen contained wedding-things like cake specimens, champagne specimens and an old invitation on the bulletin board. The office was of cause filled to the rim with books and binders of wedding-suggestions. It seemed the only room left out of the wedding-craze was the bathroom. My showers were longer than ever.
Even though everything about the wedding was falling into place easily, I was still freaking out. I’m gonna screw up. I’m gonna fall and knock everything over. I’m gonna fall and rip Jamia’s dress or something. Or knock over a flower-decoration or a guest or the priest. I’m gonna fail her.
I was freaking out. My eyes were flickering from one wedding-related thing to another, while I felt my breath getting heavier and heavier. I’m gonna fuck it up. I’m gonna disappoint her. Or hurt her. Oh, god! What if I freak out so much that I’ll run away. Become the next Runaway Bride. Groom. Bridegroom. Fuck!
The reality of me getting married to the most perfect woman in the world had me sweating, babbling and panicking. Before I knew it, I was clutching the phone in my hand – pressing hard down on the two. It dialled the number and I quickly put the phone to my ear.

“Hey, it’s Ray.” I was about to freak out on him, when suddenly his voice continued. “I’m not home at the moment, but please leave a message and I might get back to you.” A loud, clear beep attacked my ear. I didn’t leave a message. Instead I hung up and held down the one instead. This time I stared at the phone for a few seconds, before I put it up to my ear.

“Hello?” a familiar voice said, and just the sound of it made me calm down – but only a fraction.

“Hey, man! Uhm…” I started, but barely knew how to explain my state of mind.

“What’s going on? How’s everything?” his voice was slightly absent – as if he was watching a movie or…

“I’m not disturbing, am I?” I asked cautiously. Please say no. Please say no!

“Mm,” he exclaimed shortly, and I heard the familiar sound of him chewing. Or say yes.. I wouldn’t mind bothering you… Her…
“No, not at all,” he finally said. I could still hear food in his mouth. Hopefully you’re disgusting her.

“Oh, uhm…” Just say it. I’m mad. I’m insane.

“What’s up, Frankie?”

“I’m freaking out!” I quickly exclaimed, and suddenly all I could see was the seating-chart on the coffee table in front of me – names everywhere.

“How?”

“I don’t know.” My eyes were flickering. “I’m panicking,” I said in a low voice – such a low voice that I was surprised he even heard it.

“Okay, listen.” He paused for a second. “I’m gonna come over. I’m only ten minutes away. You cool with that?” I stared at the word ‘Bride’ on a magazine as my breath slowed down.

“Yes,” I whispered. My mind was frozen.

“Okay.” I heard ruffling in the background.
“Just relax. I’ll be there in ten.” My mind wasn’t working.
“See ya,” he said quickly before his voice disappeared. I felt my stomach clench and my mouth go dry, when I realized I was alone. Alone and freaking the fuck out. I kept staring at the magazine. Just pull it together. Stop staring at it. Just close my eyes. Close ‘em!
When my body finally obeyed my thoughts, I squeezed my eyes shut for a few seconds, before I got to my feet and walked through the living room. When I started to worry about bumping into something, I opened my eyes just the slightest and manoeuvred my way into the bathroom. I slammed the door shut and locked it – either it was an automatic move, or a way for my mind to feel safe from the word “wedding”. I opened my eyes completely and was relieved to see a cold, white bathroom – and nothing else. I went over to the sink and splashed some icy-cold water in my face. When I raised my head, I leaned on the tiles around the sink and looked myself in the mirror. I’m freaking out.
I saw drops drip off my chin. My mind was blank as I stood there. It was relaxing. Calming. Soothing.
Suddenly I heard the bell ring, and I was happy when I snapped out of my mental coma and realized I hadn’t been shocked by the sudden sound. I combed a hand through my hair once or twice, before I went out towards the door. I deliberately kept my eyes on the front door, and didn’t look left into the living room.

“Hey!” I said happily when I’d opened the door.

“Hey, man!” I quickly lunged forward to catch Gerard in a tight embrace. He tumbled back slightly, but didn’t hesitate in returning the hug. When I let go, I saw the concern in his eyes. I turned around to grab the door handle and close the door behind me. When I turned back, he was still concerned.
“How’re ya?” I went past him and sat down on the stairs of the porch.

“Fucked,” I said. I didn’t know how else to describe it. I was fucked. Fucked!

“Why?” he said as he sat down beside me. He laid an arm over my shoulders and leaned forward to see most of my face. I stared at my hands in front of me, while I tried to find the words to describe why. Freaked out? Scared? Fear? Nervous? Afraid?

“Scared. Afraid. Freaked out.” My eyes were flickering again.

“Why? Don’t you wanna get married?” The question came as a shock and I raised my head to look him in the eye.

“Of course! I want this! I wanna marry her, but…” It was like my words just fell out of my ears instead of my mouth – all the words I could use to describe how I felt were just gone.

“But, what?” He squeezed my shoulder lightly to show his support. It calmed me down. I took a deep breath to clear my head, before I continued.

“But I’m afraid that I’ll screw up,” I said in a whiny voice – a voice that Gerard would have found annoying, but when I looked up at him, he only had sympathy in his eyes.
“I’m gonna screw up. I can feel it.” Gerard just kept looking at me. I knew what he was going to say, but after a while I realized that he wasn’t gonna say it – or that he might already have said it. He hadn’t said it out loud, but somehow I knew he was thinking it. And I guess he knew I was thinking it as well. He knew I knew it wasn’t gonna happen. I was not gonna screw up.

“She’s a beautiful, wonderful, caring, loving, amazing woman,” Gerard said slowly and clearly.
“I’m jealous at you – both of you.” He kept eye contact with me, and his soothing voice calmed me down the more it buzzed in his chest – against my shoulder.
“Even if you do screw up, she wouldn’t care.” I looked down at my hands and smiled as I saw her face in front of me.
“She loves you. And you love her. That’s all that matters.” I leaned my head softly against his shoulder.
“Everything else is just for the guests. And it doesn’t matter what we think. As long as you two are happy that’s all that will ever matter.” He placed a kiss on the top of my head and leaned his own on mine. We both stared forward out onto the curb. I enjoyed the fresh night air – how it reminded me of our goodnight-cigarettes outside the bus. Now that was no more. He had quit – of course. At least he had quit as far as he could. He still had moments where he needed one – where we all needed him to have one. Please don’t ever leave me.