My Way Home Is Through You (Frerard)

Chapter 5

Groaning loudly, I smashed my hand into the alarm clock several times, when it still didn't stop, I smacked it off the table onto the floor, hearing it smash but shut up. Hoping to lean into Gerard for a minute or two more, I rolled over to my left, however I seemed to land on my ass on the floor. Letting my eyes fly open, I thought for a moment or two, where the hell was Gerard and why the fuck did I just fall off the bed when I sleep on the right?

When my eyes eventually focused, I found myself sat on the living room floor, having just landed on the broken alarm clock. Rubbing my eyes, I leaned into the couch for a moment or two, groaning as I realised I had a massive headache rapidly coming on. The biggest question, was why was I on the fucking couch. Pushing myself up and back onto the couch, I sat with my elbows on the coffee table, my throbbing head resting in my hands, I noticed an empty wine bottle between my feet and froze for a moment.

Sitting up properly, I saw that the TV was on standby, Jesus Christ I had fallen asleep in the middle of something. Scanning the rest of the room, I found an empty box of chocolates on the table, next to another half empty bottle of wine, shit. Standing up, I made my way into the kitchen, starting the coffee machine and getting myself some painkillers and a glass of water, I was a little surprised Gerard hadn't been down yet, he was always up before me. Giving the coffee machine time to do it's magic and the painkillers to work, I collected the empty wine bottle and chocolate box from the living room, taking them to the bin, why had I been drinking, that's what I wanted to know. Heading towards the TV, to turn it off properly, my gaze landed on two movie boxes, no way, I had been watching chick-flicks, Jesus fucking Christ.

After turning the TV off properly, I picked up the movies; Romeo and Juliet, and Titanic, was this a fucking joke, this must have been Gerard tricking me into think I had done this. Why the fuck would I have be watching Titanic and Romeo and Juliet of all things - with the exception of the fact that I, like any other sane woman, have an insane crush on Leonardo Dicaprio. Shoving the movies back onto the shelf, I called Gerard as I stood at the bottom of the stairs, after calling twice more, he still didn't reply, so I made my way upstairs.

"Gee." I called again as I reached the top of the stairs, a little surprised when Kyle walked out of his room, even more surprised by the expression on his face. "Gerard!"

"He's not here stupid."

"Somebody doesn't look very happy." I chuckled bending down a little, only to be pushed back violently onto my butt.

"I'm not happy." Kyle yelled, "I was waked late to shouting," He shouted his face angry, very angry and his hands sassily on his hips. "I watched the second person walk out on me, the second person that said they loved me." He cried, tears forming in his eyes, I froze for a moment, looking into my bedroom dead ahead, to see nobody in there, shit, shit, SHIT.

"I- uh-"

"Shut up Daddy, I don't even know if you love me." He sniffed walking away into his room, slamming the door behind him as he cried.

Sitting back against the wall, I tried everything I possibly could to remember what had gone on last night, what Kyle had said seemed to make a lot of sense. It certainly fitted, shouting, Gerard walking out, me getting drunk and depressed so watching chick-flicks. Eventually, I managed to fish the answer from the back of my brain, I thought Kyle hated us being gay, Gerard and I had an argument about it, because I didn't tell him, I thought he didn't care so told him if he didn't he should leave.

And he left.

The rest really was a story lost, my best bet was that I had gotten extremely emotional about it, annoyed, depressed, confused and definitely brokenhearted and so drunk myself blind. That sounded like something I would do, opt for the easy painkiller; alcohol, then watch someone I find insanely good looking, in two depressing as fuck love stories. My biggest fear was that Gerard had done the same, I would never ever forgive myself if he had gotten drunk too, my past drinking was bad, but not bad to the extent that I had to never drink again, but Gerard that was a whole other story, and I would never forgive myself if I had caused that of him.