Sequel: Sick Boy ›
Sick and Sain
Chapter 5
“So how are you today Gerard?”
“Fine.”
“How has everything been for you?”
“Fine.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Uh…no.”
It was actually unusual for Gerard not to have a lot to say at this point in his day—the one part of his day when he was allowed to spill his guts to a bored, young psychologist. But at this point, he just couldn’t get past the roadblock in his mind about yesterday. Mikey—he had to just come in and ruin everything. That was so classic Mikey, it hadn’t changed since he was were two. He had always been joining on at the worst moment possible, wanting to join when he was least wanted and generally sticking his nose into the worst of businesses. But it wasn’t even this that bothered Gerard. It was seeing his brother and his best friend free to come and go from this confining prison whenever they wanted. It was seeing them so ignorant as to what they had done to him. But—had it all been horrible? Without this, this atrocity on his never spotless record he would have never met that boy some called Ryan Ross and he would have never gained the same level of sanity he had found himself standing upon now. Yet, this was a lie. Gerard was far from sane (ha! Correct spelling!) but far from sick. He could be just around the corner from heaven, or a mile from hell, to say it as Jackson Browne once had.
“Nothing?”
“No.”
“I heard your brother visited. How was that?”
“It sucked.”
“And?”
“Yeah,” Gerard rolled his eyes, “It sucked.” Why was he being so difficult today? It wasn’t as though anyone had done anything. Or at least anyone in his reach.
“Why didn’t you enjoy it?”
The fluorescent lights were giving Gerard a headache. Couldn’t they at least fake like they cared about people in this place?
“Gerard?”
“Oh. What was the question?” Gerard said and went about enjoying himself. This was now Interview Gerard Persona he was taking on, the thoughtful, kind of funny, slightly humble Gerard that everyone saw in almost every interview.
“Why didn’t you enjoy it?”
“I don’t like my fucking brother,” Gerard bit his lip. This hurt to say, he really did love Mikey—more than anyone else He was his best friend, his fucking soul mate for lack of a better term. But not of late—no, what was Gerard doing? Or was Mikey doing something instead? It had all started with too much bickering to be normal. Gerard and Mikey had always bickered as siblings will, but when the time came, they were there for each other. Had it started the last time they were recording? When Mikey had started having problems? Now Gerard looked upon that in bitterness, he had been so reproachful to his poor brother. Mikey had needed help, gone to find it and in doing so, had kind of…well, majorly fucked up the band. Had Gerard just done the same thing? Shit! Had he? Ohshitohshitohshit. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. So much for being able to get the fuck out and slip back into a normally abnormal life. Its not so conventional and it’s sure as hell ain’t normal. But—well, he did more than deal. Gerard thrived on abnormality. And insanity. And everything else that went with it.
“This is your brother—Mikey?” the lady was talking now.
“Mmhmm.”
“And why don’t you like him?”
Gerard paused. Here he was faced with a crossroads. He could lie and use the obvious example (“We don’t get along.”) or he could be truthful and say something that really made sense. But what made sense? What had made sense so many days, months, years ago didn’t make sense anymore. Or—had it ever made sense? Was Gerard now over with fooling himself that something had made sense?
“Gerard?”
“What?”
“You didn’t answer me—why don’t you like him?”
“We don’t get along.” Coward, fucking coward. You fucking assed coward. Fucking fuck up, lying and avoiding yourself. You fucking fucked up fuckface.
“Why not?”
“Do you get along with your siblings?”
“Well that’s my problem Gerard—you seemed to have a very good relationship with your brother before this point.”
“People change,” Gerard spit, looking at the floor. Yes people changed—Mikey changed, he got married, he got a life. Gerard changed, he was fucking going insain. He couldn’t spell fourth grade level words. Or he chose not to.
“Fine.”
“How has everything been for you?”
“Fine.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Uh…no.”
It was actually unusual for Gerard not to have a lot to say at this point in his day—the one part of his day when he was allowed to spill his guts to a bored, young psychologist. But at this point, he just couldn’t get past the roadblock in his mind about yesterday. Mikey—he had to just come in and ruin everything. That was so classic Mikey, it hadn’t changed since he was were two. He had always been joining on at the worst moment possible, wanting to join when he was least wanted and generally sticking his nose into the worst of businesses. But it wasn’t even this that bothered Gerard. It was seeing his brother and his best friend free to come and go from this confining prison whenever they wanted. It was seeing them so ignorant as to what they had done to him. But—had it all been horrible? Without this, this atrocity on his never spotless record he would have never met that boy some called Ryan Ross and he would have never gained the same level of sanity he had found himself standing upon now. Yet, this was a lie. Gerard was far from sane (ha! Correct spelling!) but far from sick. He could be just around the corner from heaven, or a mile from hell, to say it as Jackson Browne once had.
“Nothing?”
“No.”
“I heard your brother visited. How was that?”
“It sucked.”
“And?”
“Yeah,” Gerard rolled his eyes, “It sucked.” Why was he being so difficult today? It wasn’t as though anyone had done anything. Or at least anyone in his reach.
“Why didn’t you enjoy it?”
The fluorescent lights were giving Gerard a headache. Couldn’t they at least fake like they cared about people in this place?
“Gerard?”
“Oh. What was the question?” Gerard said and went about enjoying himself. This was now Interview Gerard Persona he was taking on, the thoughtful, kind of funny, slightly humble Gerard that everyone saw in almost every interview.
“Why didn’t you enjoy it?”
“I don’t like my fucking brother,” Gerard bit his lip. This hurt to say, he really did love Mikey—more than anyone else He was his best friend, his fucking soul mate for lack of a better term. But not of late—no, what was Gerard doing? Or was Mikey doing something instead? It had all started with too much bickering to be normal. Gerard and Mikey had always bickered as siblings will, but when the time came, they were there for each other. Had it started the last time they were recording? When Mikey had started having problems? Now Gerard looked upon that in bitterness, he had been so reproachful to his poor brother. Mikey had needed help, gone to find it and in doing so, had kind of…well, majorly fucked up the band. Had Gerard just done the same thing? Shit! Had he? Ohshitohshitohshit. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. So much for being able to get the fuck out and slip back into a normally abnormal life. Its not so conventional and it’s sure as hell ain’t normal. But—well, he did more than deal. Gerard thrived on abnormality. And insanity. And everything else that went with it.
“This is your brother—Mikey?” the lady was talking now.
“Mmhmm.”
“And why don’t you like him?”
Gerard paused. Here he was faced with a crossroads. He could lie and use the obvious example (“We don’t get along.”) or he could be truthful and say something that really made sense. But what made sense? What had made sense so many days, months, years ago didn’t make sense anymore. Or—had it ever made sense? Was Gerard now over with fooling himself that something had made sense?
“Gerard?”
“What?”
“You didn’t answer me—why don’t you like him?”
“We don’t get along.” Coward, fucking coward. You fucking assed coward. Fucking fuck up, lying and avoiding yourself. You fucking fucked up fuckface.
“Why not?”
“Do you get along with your siblings?”
“Well that’s my problem Gerard—you seemed to have a very good relationship with your brother before this point.”
“People change,” Gerard spit, looking at the floor. Yes people changed—Mikey changed, he got married, he got a life. Gerard changed, he was fucking going insain. He couldn’t spell fourth grade level words. Or he chose not to.