I'm Not Okay. I Promise.

Chapter Three: Can You Stake My Heart?

I sat at my desk, my sketchbooks, colored pencils, and pens scattered all across the wooden surface. I took deep breath, watching as the pencils rolled around. Everything seemed to be moving slower than usual, using less energy. I slouched in my seat, hearing foot steps roam above me and then stop, only to continue again. 

I sighed, glancing at the drawing I had been completing. It was a sharp, perfectly textured, scorpion. One that only I knew, one that I'd known for years, but all for the wrong reasons. All those mindless, drunken fucks, the make-outs we shared. I, at one point, owned that piece of art that line Frank's neck. I knew it all too well. Every color change, every curve, line, and small prick, and now I wished I could erase it from my memory. Just like the memories I shared with him. I closed my eyes, resting my head on my desk. 

LIstening to the silence, my head began to pound. It wasn't pain, it wasn't grief, it was guilt. As I sat, I poundered on what it was that I thought I'd lost. It had been days since I had last seen Frank, and even longer since we had been on good terms. That night in the park, I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought I was okay without him. I made sure to make it clear that I wanted him gone.

I obviously succeeded with my goal. I hadn't received one call, text, or message from him since that night, and the same words replayed in my head, like he'd stamped them there, making sure that they burned just as much as he did when I'd told him to leave. 'Consider it done.' was all he said.

As I thought about the words that were spoken, I felt tears brim my eyes, I felt a wave of black shower over me causing me to shake with anger. Sobs, sobs that I hadn't let come out in ages, sobs that I wouldn't let come out, tore at me from the inside out.

I think I sat for about an hour, just tring to hold myself together before a light from across my room caught my gaze. I heard the familiar sound of Billy Corgan's voice echoing across the room as he and his band mates began to serenade me with the Smashing Pumpkins classic, 'Bullets with Butterfly Wings.'

I jumped up, glancing over at my phone as I raced across the room and dove onto my bed to answer the call before it timed out. I rubbed my eyes, bitung my lip as I held the reciever to my ear.

"H-Hello?" I breathed, swallowing hard and ducking my head to hide it from the rest of the world. I felt dead, completely valnerable, and at the moment, I wished that I was. I heard nothing at the end of the line for a minute before I heard a soft, breathless laugh and a sigh.

"Y-Y'Know... Gerard... I used to think that we were going to go places... We were going to make things right in the world." Frank's voice entered my ear like a lyrical, desperate song. It was broken and breathless, shaky and detached as he spoke. "I know... I know that I've - I know I've done you wrong, Gerard. So many times. I know. I know I've hurt you. But here. Here tonight. I'm making things right..."

I thought I heard a soft choked sob come from the other end of the reciever as  I answered, condused and regarded with disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about? Frank, where are you?" My voice might have come out more worried than I'd intended, but I tried to keep it down. "What are you doing?" I continued, trying my best to sound the least bit concerned. It was hard becaue in all actuality, I was scared. I was worried for Frank, for his safety. I was absolutely terrified.

"That doesn't matter now... Just as long as you know I'm sorry. Just so you know I'm doing this for you. To make you happy." Frank's voice was muffled by a loud gust of wind, causing my brows to furrow. "Well... I guess I'd better go. Time's running out, Gerard. I called to let you know... I'm letting you go. Forever."

"Frank! Frank please! Tell me what you're talking about!" I cried, trying to get a reaction from Frank, but all that I got was the long, drained dial tone of disconnectoin. I held my breath, land I couldn't get air into my lungs causing the room to spin. I clutched my phone tight in my fist, pressing numerous bittons as I gasped. "M-Mikey..." I said, trying to regain my thoughts.

"Mikey!" I screamed, taking in a sharp breath before jumping up. "Mikey!" I jumped up, racing toward my bedroom door that lead me to the only one who could help me in my quest to get my best friend back. My little brother.