Skylines and Turnstiles

(Gerard's P.O.V.)

"Gerard."

"Frank."

Call me crazy, but I don't get why Frank is mad at me. It's my life, right? Why should he be concerned that when I was in one of my moods I went out and bought some Vodka? My drinking problems are way behind me now, as far as I'm concerned. Doesn't he trust me? Course, he's been a little messed up in the head since Jamia left him for another guy, leaving Cherry and Lily with him, who are at the moment (while we are on tour) are being watched by his mother.

"It's my life, Frank," I told him firmly as I opened the bottle.

"I'm aware, Gerard," Frank replied, "But your drinking affects the band, not just you. You know how hard it was last time?" He seemed to snap. "You were depressed every fucking moment of every fucking day. If you drink that, you're letting us all down. Do you remember the pain you put us through? Do you remember how Mikey was? He was depressed all the time too, not having a dependable older brother with clear thoughts. We're lucky he didn't start drinking, too," Frank spat. "Gerard," he said, getting a little closer to me, his breath showing as we stood outside of the bus in a parking lot, with chilling temperatures, "You're drinking recked our relationship."

"Frank, you're lying to me. At least let me finish off this bottle. I won't get addicted like I was before," I sighed, "You trust me, right?"

Frank looked me in the eyes for a moment, not speaking. "That's the same thing you said about the drugs, Gee."

I guess it was. "Whatever. You should trust me this time around. Besides, I've got a beautiful wife and daughter to fall back on if it happens again."

Frank scoffed at me. "You've been like this ever since we released the album," he said, referring to last year. "I swear to the heavens that that red dye seeped through your head into your brain. You just don't get it, do you?" he asked, his voice slightly raised, looking at me for a moment, as if seeking a reply. When I said nothing, he continued, "You're taking advantage of Bandit, Gee. I know for a fact its not fair to her to have an alcoholic dad. You and I both know she doesn't deserve that. And Lyn-Z- you trust her too much."

"Oh, so now you're running my life? Don't even try to tell me what to do and what not to do with my wife," I snapped at him.

Hurt appeared in his eyes, but his anger could still be sensed in his voice. "I'm looking out for you, Gerard. I saw her with another guy, doing MORE than just socializing, right before we left three months ago."

I felt a knife being stabbed through my heart. Lyn-Z had been acting suspicious lately. I didn't want to see it, but it's true. Frank sounded seriously convincing, yet when he was determined, he could probably convince me to rob a bank. Besides- he as probably just trying to get to me.

"Even if you were telling the truth," I started, "but I know you're lying, why wouldn't you have told me three months ago when it happened?"

"Because I know you'd react like this," Frank told me quietly.

I sighed. I lifted the bottle up to my lips, and tilted it back, and the familiar taste overcame me. Frank watched with eyes that looked like he'd been tortured, and hadn't he'd been standing here with me, I would've believed so.

"So," I said, licking my lips, "Is that all you've got?"

"Is that all I've got?" Frank asked incredulously. "Okay, then. Yes, it is. Happy, asshole? You have a good life," he said, backing away from me, "I don't want to be a part of it anymore. You've already wrecked what we could've had together Gee, something I for one was serious about, but you wrecked it with your drinking. I'm not gonna stand around for the second time, so you ruin our friendship. I'm quitting the band, see ya. Oh wait, I won't- I'm done seeing you. You take advantage of everyone around you, and the least you could do is take care of yourself, but no- you can't even do that."