Fake Your Death

Chapter 3

We went to his apartment after that, just to talk and catch up.

We were sitting in the small living room, the walls were brightly decorated with paintings and sketches.

Gerard had made some coffee and we just chatted for a while, like old times.

But there was a question that had to be asked.

"Why did you leave?" I asked quietly once our light conversation had fallen into silence.

"Hmm?"

"Why? Why did you disappear like that?" I asked again trying to keep my voice as calm as humanly possible.

He sighed sadly, "I wanted to die, I wanted to stop existing, but I couldn't bring myself to actually do it. I couldn't be like him, but instead I did something worse.."

I knew what Gerard was talking when he said 'like him'. Mikey and Gerard's father had shot himself right after Gerard had gotten home from school one day. He had only been 10 and had to watch his own father's blood splatter on the living room wall.

"O-oh." Was all I could say.

Silence.

"Gerard?"

He looked up from his coffee.

"Come home. Please, we need you." I paused for a moment, "I need you." I said nearly inaudible but I know he heard me.

He moved next to me on the couch and hesitantly pulled me into a hug.

I missed this so fucking much.

Before I could think I was sobbing silently into Gerard chest as he gently rubbed circles on my back.

This had happened so many times before, I suppose it was a natural thing to him now.

I can't really remember any particular examples now, but before Gerard had 'died', we would end up like this at least twice a week.

He had always been my support, my shoulder to cry on, I had always been the seemingly broken one.

No one had even noticed when Gerard was sad, when he was ready to break, ready to shatter at the next touch.

I had one fucking job.

I needed to be the one to help him, that's what friends are supposed to be, support for each other.

I was always so worried with my own problems that I never even thought about what Gerard might have felt.

"I-I'm sorry, Gee." I whimpered, "I'm sorry for being such a shitty friend. I'm so fucking sorry, I didn't even notice when you were hurting, I only paid attention to myself. I'm fucking horrible."

He gently lifted my heard so I was looking at him, "Frank, don't say that! None of its your fault Frank, it's my fault, I his everything from all of you guys and become of that I made a stupid choice and hurt everyone I care about, there is no way in hell that that is in any way shape or form your fault. Do you understand me, Frank?"

His tone was quiet but harsh.

I was now starting to notice his eyes, they were the familiar warm hazel color that I remembered, but they lacked the bright flicker of life that had once danced in them.

I also noticed the dark grayish purple bags that lay just beneath those eyes.

He was pale and unsettlingly thin.

"But I-"

I went to speak but was cut off by Gerard lightly pressing his lips to mine but pulled away before I could respond.

He stood up from the couch muttering a string of curses before disappearing down the hall to a room I assumed to be the bathroom.