Increase the Medication

Broken Bass Necks and Shitty Cars

"Hey Gerard, can I ask you a question?" I asked, sipping my black coffee. The cold liquid was bitter and made me cringe a bit.

"Shoot," he said.

"How did you know what house to drive to when you picked me up?"

He looked at me with a guilty expression.

"I followed you home.." he admitted.

"Ahh you creepy bastard!" I exclaimed, smacking his arm.

"No no no! Not like that! I followed you 'cause I was gonna pick you up! I'm sorry!" he explained with his hands in the air.

I rolled my eyes and drank more of my coffee. "Mikey's here!"

The tall, skinny brunette boy from earlier walked towards the booth with a coffee in hand and slid into the seat Gerard was sitting in.

"Oh, hi Faye," he said kind of shyly.

"Hi Mikey," I said back.

"Did you get your bass fixed bro?" Gerard asked.

"Oh, yeah. It cost me like seventy fucking dollars," he sighed. "Here, I bought this for you when I went to that new art store, Inkwell, earlier while my bass was getting fixed," Mikey said, putting a fancy black leather journal in front of Gerard.

There was a small metal tag glued to the cover. It read 'Gerard Way' in fine italicized letters.

"It's Italian leather," Mikey added.

Gerard ran his fingers over the leather and lightly traced the letters on the metal tag.

"What's it for, exactly?" he asked, looking at Mikey.

"Well, everybody needs to write their feelings down at some point, so I got that for you," Mikey told him.

"Mikes, that is so lame! I'm 16, I don't need to write my feelings down! Thanks, though. But how much did it cost?"

Mikey laughed in embarrassment, then waved his hand.

"The price doesn't matter. You're my brother and I found you an amazing gift so I got it for you."

Gerard slung his arm around Mikey's thin shoulders and hugged him slightly.

"Thanks, dude. Even if it is a weird present, thanks."

Mikey grinned.

"I'm glad you like it. But I forgot to buy a pen."

I laughed.

"A pen? Wow. Here, take this one," I said, taking a black BIC pen from the breast pocket of my flannel and tossing it to Gerard.

Gerard opened the journal and started scribbling quickly on the first page. He obviously liked it more than he said he did.

"I've got to use the restroom," Mikey said, getting up and walking to the bathroom. Gerard's hand moved down the page, flipped it, then began on the next one.

"So you write your mushy-gushy feelings, too?" I asked, laughing.

He nodded, frowning a bit but still staring at the page.

"Are they at least normal teenage boy feelings?"

He nodded again, his tongue poking out of his mouth every-so-slightly. I drank the rest of my coffee and got up to throw it out, grabbing Gerard's cup too because its contents were gone.

When I returned, Mikey was back. Mikey quickly finished his coffee and poked Gerard.

"Are you done? We want to leave," he said.

Gerard swatted his hand, scribbled one more thing, then closed the book. He handed me my pen, but I waved and said, "Keep it."

We all got up and walked out of Starbucks, heading towards the car. Mikey's car was parked next to Gerard's.

"Are you taking her home? Or is she coming back to our house?" Mikey asked, opening the door.

"She can come to the house, can't she? We'll meet you there," Gerard said, getting in his car.

I got in too, closing the door carefully. This car seemed so screwed up that if you so much as closed the door too hard the body would fall off of the frame.

"Here, put this in the glovebox," Gerard said, handing me his journal.

I opened the glovebox and put the journal in it, having half a mind to read it, but shoved the thought away.

The ride to the Way house was a silent one. When we arrived, I was kind of surprised. I thought the house would be bigger. Gerard got out and opened the door for me, then led me inside.

"Gerard, who's this?" a lady asked.

"Oh, this is Faye, she just moved here from Florida. Faye, this is my mom, Donna," Gerard answered.

"That's a big climate change!" she exclaimed, shaking my hand and smiling.

I smiled back and nodded. Gerard sighed and led me down to the basement. There was only one room down there and I figured it was Gerard's. He seemed the basement bedroom type.

"So, Faye, what do you want to do for a living?" Gerard asked, sitting on his bed.

"Um, I want to be a journalist. How about you?" I replied, sitting on the floor. What a strange question.

"I want to write and draw comics."

"You seem really good at drawing. Speaking of which, if you don't mind my asking, why did you draw me?"

"Huh? Oh, well, uh, because you just looked so.. innocent earlier, I guess.. I didn't mean to seem creepy or anything."

"No, not creepy, just.. I don't know. Nice, actually. Nobody's ever drawn me before."

"HEY! No making out down here!" somebody yelled.

Frank burst into the room, falling onto the bed. Mikey followed after him.

"I need a fucking cigarette!" Frank exclaimed, covering his eyes with his hands.

"Mikes, why'd you let this weirdo in with you?" Gerard questioned with a grin on his face.

Mikey shrugged.

"Because I figured you'd taken Faye home and that maybe you and Frank wanted some alone t-" Mikey began, but Gerard cut him off.

"I don't care if you're my brother or not. I will kill you in your sleep if you mention that," he growled venomously.

I shrugged it off. Probably some dumb joke between them.