I only get nervous or scared or whatever because I care, though. Because I know how damaging it would for Mikes if I got it wrong where it absolutely has to go right.
And because I love him.
More than I should, more than I ever promised myself I would because he's far too meek and naïve to get corrupted by a guy three years older than him and with no talent when it comes to warding of the agonies that life quite happily bestows upon his broad shoulders. So I just watch from a distance, too heartbroken for him to be able to tear my gaze away and too cowardly to do anything to heal his wounds.
Not today though. Today it really will stop. It has to. He can't take it anymore.
"Heya, Mikes. Good day at school, bro?" Gerard smiles at the kid already storming to his bedroom, trying his hardest to be the strong, happy big brother that Mikey needs but apparently doesn't desire. "Make any friends?"
The footsteps on the stairs stop and there's an agonised silence in which I look up from my sugary donut to catch my first glimpse of Mikes since this time last week. And my heart shatters for the kid, it really does. He's nothing but skin and bones, even though he looks far too skinny to have bones held inside his porcelain skin. His eyes are red-rimmed, surrounded by dark purple blotches that announce his lack of sleep to the world like a Blitz siren announcing another harsh thunderstorm of bombings over a once peaceful land of plenty. His glasses are being held together by masking tape over his nose, a bit of Gerard's expert DIY, from where some little fucker smashed them at the same time as smashing his face for simply getting one out of ten questions on the homework sheet he'd forced Mikes to do for him wrong.
He looks like a zombie; dead and without a soul left for me or Gerard or anyone to save. But that won't stop me from trying. After all, if there's no soul to salvage then I'll give him mine. If he wants it.
Mikey just stares at Gerard, eyebrows arched incredulously and a sad glint of reluctant sarcasm shimmering in his eyes like blood in moonlight.
"Are you taking the piss?"
And with that dry, excruciated croak of harsh honesty he sprints the last few steps to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him as though the kids at school are chasing him in there. Within seconds we hear the sobbing, the loud proclamation that tells us he didn't mean to be an asshole; that he'd just had too much and Gerard's, somewhat thoughtless, words were just one thing too many.
At the sound of a gentle sniffle from the gothic vampire guy slumped next to me, I turn to face him and rub his shoulder reassuringly to let him know that I know what he's going through because I care about Mikey too. More than he'll ever know.
