Envision The Magic [Frerard] [By innocent_wolves on LJ]

Chapter Twelve

The fourth day of the holiday cruise was set as the day for Gerard's much anticipated comeback. Everyone seemed to be excited about the fact that he was back; "Finally," they would say, the expression on their faces revealing that they thought he was at long last back where he belonged.

A brand new poster had been put up outside The Colossus showroom for the occasion; Gerard was dressed in his usual attire, save for a glittering piece of holly attached to his vest. He also looked remarkably cheery in the photo; a correct and appropriate Christmas spirit kind of cheery, that was easy to tell. He was giving everyone a sideway glance, his eyes edited to look like they were emitting a glowing, amber color. With his dark eyebrows slightly raised and the corners of his mouth pulled up in an open smile, it almost looked like he was saying "ta-dah!" A number of cards filled the picture in an elegant swirl, surrounding him in an array of stars, glitter and tiny orbs of light. He had one hand outstretched towards the camera lens while his fingers were spread, giving the impression of having thrown the entire deck of cards at the photographer.

Envision Destiny proudly presents: Gerard Way - Envision the Magic.

The tall, glossy letters still read the same, but this time The Christmas Show had been added underneath them. It was yet another well-made, expensive looking and somewhat cheesy show poster. It was one that also could have blended in just fine in any cinema, with a few alterations. If you removed all the text and added COMING SOON in big, illuminated letters, Gerard would resemble some new, crazy super villain in the Batman universe, a weird mix between a male Zatanna and a female Joker. Christmas as you know it no longer exists would be a fitting tagline. Frank chuckled to himself as he imagined Gerard on the silver screen, conjuring away Christmas spirits everywhere as the Grinch's handsome, human successor.

***

It was almost time for the intermission when Frank decided to stay behind in the showroom and watch the magician in action. He had just brought three martinis to their respective guests and figured it wouldn’t matter if he went missing for a couple of minutes.

Gerard looked like a living wax figure up on the stage, illuminated by the bluish spotlight. Helped by the cover of makeup his complexion looked bright white against his dark hair, and the black eyeliner made it seem like he was staring, mesmerized and slightly surprised, into nothing. Frank thought he looked strangely different. He frowned. Come to think of it, Gerard looked a little awkward up there. He seemed unfocused and hesitant. It was a subtle change but a change nonetheless, and in the sharp close-ups on the screen it seemed even more obvious.

The very first thing he did wrong was to drop a card during a trick. Frank had never seen him drop a card. Scattered laughter emerged from the audience, all of them thinking it was supposed to be like that. Gerard picked it up, a mere twitch at the corners of his mouth revealing that it hadn't been planned. On the contrary; he had surprised himself. He shuffled the cards again and this time half the deck slid out of his hands; they spread out at his feet like an unintelligible hand of tarot cards.

"Okay, wow," he said, making an attempt at a carefree chuckle that only came out as a sharp and nervous laugh. "I'm definitely not gonna try picking those up, or I'll be here forever. I think I'm gonna need another deck of cards here, please. Oh, and I'm not drunk, I promise," he added.

The audience laughed again, still oblivious to what Frank saw. They didn't notice how the tone in Gerard's voice had changed, making the joke unconvincing and superficial. They didn't see how unsure he looked as he waited for his new cards, or how his hand trembled slightly when he received them.

After that, everything he attempted to do just seemed to go wrong somehow, and whatever mistakes he made got magnified on the screen, making it ten times worse. He shuffled the cards again and asked a random person in the audience to pick a card. The person chose the Three of Spades. In the end Gerard decided on the Ten of Diamonds; he was off by seven numbers and not even in the right suit, let alone the right color. If Frank didn't know better he'd say Gerard had completely forgotten how to actually do the trick, something which forced him to simply guess a card out of pure desperation.

"This… obviously isn't my night," he said, trying to make his laugh and his shrug convincing. "Okay, screw these cards. We'll just try something else."

'Something else' was the trick with the twenty-dollar bill. It turned out to be his most painful mistake that night. The idea was simple and impressive enough: borrow a twenty from someone in the audience, have the owner write their name on it, and then turn it into some other value or currency. Gerard quickly set his eyes on a young woman at one of the front row tables and soon he returned to the stage, holding the money up for everyone to see. The close-up on the screen showed that he folded the note four times. So far, so good. However, as he started unfolding it, he appeared to lose his focus. It made him stop abruptly and frown, his mouth uttering a muted "What the hell?" He then turned slightly away, holding the money close to his chest and keeping his struggling hands hidden from the audience and the camera.

"Fuck," he suddenly muttered irritably.

It only took him a split second to realize that everybody could hear what he was saying, but by then the words were already past his lips. His face got caught in the spotlight and for a moment it reflected nothing but horror. The dollar bill in his hands sprung open on its own account, escaping the tight folds, and the screen revealed that it was still the same, unchanged twenty. He hadn't managed to do anything with it. The note sailed out of his fingers and landed on the floor.

The entire audience turned dead quiet, and for a few seconds all eyes were set on the magician. Then the murmuring gradually began. Frank could see frowns and wondering glances, people craning their necks as they tried to spot something else, something that could make them understand better what was going on. He could hear the guests nearby discuss in hushed voices whether or not this might be fake, just plain staged fun. This man was an award-winning magician, wasn't he? Was he supposed to fumble with a trick like that?

Gerard didn't get a chance to cover up his mistake before the music started playing, signaling that there would be a twenty minute long intermission. He looked genuinely startled, staring out at the audience like he was wondering where he was and how he'd ended up there. Then, without another word, he turned around sharply and disappeared, the curtains closing heavily behind him.

Afterwards, his absence in the lobby was painfully obvious, like a huge, badly covered up bruise on a pretty girl's neck. While keeping half an eye out for him, Frank eavesdropped to a number of conversations between the guests. The majority of them still thought that this had been planned, that the tricks and acts afterwards would be extraordinary again and that he probably had a plan with everything. He was such a good actor, after all. But a few of them were annoyed, Frank could hear that. To them, this hadn't been like expected; apparently he'd never done these things in his earlier shows. Maybe he'd pretended to be wrong a couple of times, sure, but never like this. The doubt and confusion upon his face had been real; they had noticed that by now. It seemed like he'd been close to revealing the secret behind the trick by accident, and everyone knows that magicians never reveal their secrets.

Halfway into the intermission, a middle-aged man appeared in the lobby, clapping his hands together and demanding that everyone turned their heads in his direction.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, and once he spoke, Frank recognized him as the host of a previous cabaret act. "I'm afraid that the rest of Gerard Way's show has been cancelled."

A half worried, half disappointed surge went through the crowd. Frank exchanged surprised glances with the others in the bar. Cancellation? That was surely a first.

"Mr. Way isn't feeling well and I'm sure you all understand that it won't be safe for him to continue unless his condition is top-notch, one hundred percent. He regrets this very deeply and promises that the show tomorrow will be even better. As a small compensation he'd like to buy everyone a free round. In addition, Envision will offer you all a bonus at The Green Diamond, consisting of free chips worth twenty dollars. We extend our most sincere apologies and again, we're very sorry for the inconvenience."

The guests didn't seem too unhappy about the cancellation, and as soon as most of them had received their drinks they were heading off to the casino; free booze and spending someone else's money could obviously work miracles on many a crisis. When the worst chaos had settled and most of the grabby hands had receded, Frank grabbed a tray and hurried back to the show room to collect any left behind glassware.

He spotted Gerard the moment he entered. He was sitting by himself on the edge of the stage, holding the wrinkled twenty between his fingers and slowly turning it over in his hands while frowning at it. The heavy curtains had been pulled back up, the screen had gone black, and the darkened background was busy with stagehands removing props and coiling up wires. Gerard looked different in normal lighting; the wireless microphone had been detached and was resting around his neck, his magnified voice gone with the spotlight. He was sweating beneath the thick layers of makeup, which looked a like a sickly mix of tan and mud grey in this harsh light. His eyes were sunken and hidden in the shadows, while his hair dropped lifelessly in front of his face. His illusionist zest seemed to have been drained out of him and all that what was left was this sad, small and unrecognizable someone, a stranger dressed in a magician's attire.

With his tray tucked underneath his arm, Frank jogged down the carpeted steps. He hesitated by one of the front row tables, daring a glance up at him. He didn't look up or in any other way acknowledge his presence. In the end Frank tentatively pulled out a chair and sat down, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Hey… You okay?" he asked, his voice sounding strangely hollow in the emptied show room.

Gerard kept frowning at the money in his hands, looking preoccupied with it but not actually doing anything. "I'm fine," he said monotonously, his face not expressing any more feelings than a piece of brick. He was still not looking up.

"You cancelled."

"It happens."

"To you it doesn't."

There was a moment of silence where he stopped playing aimlessly with the dollar bill, before he replied: "There's a first time for everything."

Now you know how it feels, Frank caught himself thinking, remembering with slight dread the night when Gerard had embarrassed him in front of everyone. Then he immediately felt bad for thinking like that. To be fair, this was the magician himself. The fall was several times greater and higher for him. Frank was nothing more than a waiter; people would have forgotten him the next day. His face and actions didn't stick with people like Gerard's did.

Frank took his eyes off Gerard's tired, serious face and looked down at the money in his hands, almost fascinated by the way his pale fingers had gone back to examine it without purpose.

"Your family's not here tonight?" he suddenly asked, still talking to the dollar bill.

"No, they're not," Frank replied, a little wary. "It's too late in the evening for Caden. Besides you cuss way too much; Lisa would choke me in cold blood if I brought him here."

Gerard didn't pursue the subject any further. Frank waited for him to continue but when he didn't he just sighed loudly, realizing that this was no different than talking to a wall. He decided he could just as well make himself useful and started collecting the few empty and half empty glasses from the nearby tables, neatly stacking the ones that could be stacked and carefully placing them on his tray. He only stopped once he felt he couldn't fit any more on it, and the whole time Gerard remained sitting quietly on the edge of the stage. Frank was on his way back when he suddenly called his name.

"You were right," Gerard said, finally putting the money away. He jumped down from the stage but lingered there, leaning against it. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at him thoughtfully.

"I was right?" Frank repeated incredulously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… What you said, about the transfer between ships being on me… You were right," he continued. "They only had me moved because I requested it."

Frank stared at him, deciding it was best he put the tray down, so he did.

"Okay…" he said slowly, frowning. "And why would you do that?"

Gerard's answer came immediately.

"To get away from you."

His arms were still folded, his hazel eyes fixed and intense. He became aware of the unsure expression his reply received, so he continued before Frank could open his mouth and ask what the hell he meant by that.

"Look," he said, rubbing his forehead tiredly, "for once I'm gonna be straight with you. I don't actually spend the day constantly thinking about sex, or booze, or whatever the popular belief is. The popular belief is just what it is; it's popular. If it adds some extra flair to my personality, however cheap it is, then I'll take it. Fine. I'm not gonna deny that I'm an attention whore. But it works, right? I make a lot of money on this and I'm not too many steps away from becoming really successful. According to my management I'm apparently the twelfth most Googled illusionist at the moment. And it's fucking Google so that's gotta count for something."

He paced back and forth for a couple of beats, biting the nail on his thumb.

"Whatever," he muttered and shook his head, almost annoyed with himself. "What I'm trying to get at here is... Well, it's the fact that I spend a lot of time thinking about my job. And that's the God's honest truth. Alright? It's not like I don't give a fuck. When it comes to my job, I really do care. I work my ass off because I want to give people something original. If people talk about me, I want them to talk about how I'm like nothing they've ever seen before. I want to be one of the best at what I do. I am one of the best at what I do. The point is, my success has all been thanks to me. The people I've been… involved with have never contributed to that. They never stood in the way for me either. I don't even find people to be worth my second thoughts. They're just people. You know? I don't sleep with them because I like them or because they affect me in any way. They're not inspiring or anything; and it's not like I even need a motherfucking muse. I just sleep with them because I think it's fun. Other than that they're useless and boring and I don't want them in my life for too long. I honestly thought I could do the same thing to you. I thought I could just conquer and forget, but…"

He interrupted his own flow of words with a short laugh, as if he was finding something a little too funny when it was supposed to trigger the opposite reaction.

"You cross my mind all the damn time, Frank. You fucking walk in and out of my head like you're living in there and I can't control it. You're always there. I never even got that close to you but it still feels like I'm tangled up in something complicated. I'd never met you before but you messed everything up in one fucking week and that caught me by surprise. And I saw the signs pretty quickly, I really did. I noticed it in the quality of my show, I noticed it in how I couldn't focus on anything. I didn't know how to deal with it. I hated that you were even able to do that. You're just another person, right? You're not supposed to make a difference." He sighed and stared at the soft, carpeted floor, looking lost and confused. "I don't know. I guess I wanted to save my act, before it got any worse. What I do is what defines me, and if that disappeares then what else is there? This is all I know. Physical removal seemed to be the only choice I had left."

Frank moved awkwardly on the spot; this whole thing was completely unexpected and he didn’t know what to say. He definitely didn't see this coming. He swallowed, his mouth gone sandpaper dry again. Gerard was standing right in front of him, talking to him with a voice that had rid itself completely of all boredom, of all rudeness, of all arrogance. This was not the distant illusionist, not the rude celebrity, not the guy with an undecided preference for sex partners. This wasn't someone who always got what he wanted, who hypnotized people with his presence, who smothered someone with his personality. This was just plain Gerard Way and he was average, ordinary and normal. Now that he'd gotten off his high horse it turned out he was a mortal just like everybody else. In all honesty he looked kind of pathetic. Frank hardly recognized him.

"I didn't notice any of that," he said eventually, trying to sound as casual as he possibly could.

"What can I say? I'm a good actor." Gerard shrugged. "I couldn't have you think that the reason I left was because you managed to break me or something. My reputation was involved."

"So the whole physical removal thing... Did it work?"

"What, are you fucking kidding me? Frank – I'm standing here like some idiot right now!" Gerard let out another short laugh and the sarcasm in it was obvious this time, his mouth not even pulling up in a smile.

"I begged the company to transfer me. I actually begged those bastards to get me on another ship. Those stupid cunts were so fucking pissed. You were right about that too; the last thing they wanted was for me to leave. I'm a goldmine for these people, of course they wanted to make sure I stayed, at least for the holidays. But then they eventually gave in, and when they did, they reduced my pay. They removed me from the entire Splendor class altogether. They even put me on their least successful liner, like that was some kind of punishment. But you know what? This time I didn't care. It was fucking embarrassing, yes, but I didn't argue. That's how much I wanted to get away from here."

He looked down for a moment, placing one hand on his hip and running the other through his hair, searching for words. He sighed heavily.

"I'll admit that I've been pretty beat down these past few months. I haven't been able to function anywhere. I couldn't do my job because I'd think about you and I'd lose my grip on everything. Going away didn't fucking work and I've been freaking out lately. And what good did it do to come back here? It's obvious that I still can't get my shit together. I don't know what I'm doing anymore because of you, Frank. This time it's just… I have no idea. I don't understand why things go wrong because of you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Even the clatter and noise from the people backstage couldn't cut through it. Frank stood there as though he was nailed to the floor. Everything felt uncomfortable and weird and deep inside he just wanted to leave all together, but there was no chance in hell he'd be able to do that. All he could do was to just stand there and listen.

"My show obviously didn't turn into a train wreck tonight because I'm not feeling well," Gerard continued, apparently desperate to get everything off his chest; it seemed to be now or never for him. "Tonight was all about distractions, like it always is, but this time someone distracted me, and that someone was you. You wandered into my head again and now that you're so close it felt twice as bad. I froze; it's as simple as that. I fucking froze. I started forgetting my own tricks. How hilarious is that? The magician who forgets his own tricks? It's so damn stupid. What is it about you, Frank? And what the hell's going on in your life right now?" he added, hopelessly throwing his arms up. "There's so much here that isn't adding up. You've suddenly got a girlfriend and a kid who's actually your son, but you still care enough about me to ask why I went away. I'm trying to make you hate me enough to leave me alone but you just keep coming back – and I don't understand why you would care anymore. It's obvious that you've been working fast while I was away."

His voice was a mix of confusion and frustration, and it was intertwined so clearly with his expression that it was almost physically painful to look at him.

"Gerard, I know you're wondering about Caden and Lisa and everything…" Frank began, wanting to explain but he didn't know how to give him the shortest possible version, if there was any. "It's a long story, and I –"

"I have time for a long story," he interrupted him, nodding encouragingly. "It doesn't matter. If you have time then I have time. Just… please explain some of it."

So, hesitantly, Frank told him about his past life as a teenager and how he knew Lisa. He told him how he'd found out that he had a son named Caden. He told him that he was happy about this, that he didn't want it any other way. Gerard stood there listening, his arms hanging limply down by his sides, his head slightly tilted. He still looked like he was profoundly confused.

"Lisa isn't my girlfriend or anything," Frank said earnestly. "She's Caden's mother and my friend but…that's it. There aren't any benefits or whatever in our relationship, except from the fact that I've got a really good friend in her. What happened between us… Well, it happened a long time ago. I was young and dumb – the usual stuff."

He paused, biting his lip.

"You know, Gerard… You can't always conquer and forget. You can't keep fooling around with people thinking no one will ever affect you. Seriously, what kind of fuse fucking snapped in your head to make you act like that? That's the crappiest attitude I've ever heard about, it's bound to go wrong. There's always someone you're not immune to in this world, no matter how much you like to think that you are. I hate to say it but I kinda think you deserve this."

His words felt a little bit too harsh, but they were already out there and impossible to take back. Another moment of deafening silence passed by. Gerard folded his arms across his chest again, slowly and tightly, like he wanted to shrink or hug himself. His shoulders were hunching and his neck was bending. He looked down at his feet.

"But," he began slowly, "with me standing here, admitting that I'm not… immune." He glanced up again. "Is that too late?"

"I don't know," Frank hesitantly replied. "But there's been a lot of crap, like tonight. All this…" He threw his hands up in the air, looking around the room. "I mean, it's just so unnecessary. If you hadn't kept insisting on being you all the time, you probably could've avoided making an ass out of yourself tonight. There have been a lot of times when you could have just told me what you were struggling with. Maybe I'd… you know, maybe I'd feel differently about it."

Again he felt like what he'd said had been a little too harsh. Still, it was only the truth.

"But you don't. You don't feel differently. So it's not really enough that I'm sorry."

There was no question to be traced in what Gerard said. He was stating a fact, like he was talking to himself and experiencing a realization he had to come to terms with.

The two young men looked at each other. Seeing Gerard standing in front of him like that, insecure and at a loss of what to do, made Frank's heart ache more than he'd been prepared for. It really did make him feel bad. The part of him that had already fallen for him knew exactly what it wanted to say and what it wanted to do, but he couldn't listen to that. This wasn't about what he wanted; this was about what he should. There had been too much already. The rational part of him was in complete control and it was telling him that enough was enough. Don't buy or fall for anything.

"No, you're right," he said quietly, adding a slight shrug. "It's not enough. I've got a son, Gerard. I've got this amazing little kid who looks up to me and right now I honestly don't have time going back and forth like this. You and me can't just happen. You can't just decide that you wanna change everything, because it's not all about you and what you want. The world doesn't revolve around you. You've been dragging way too much shit into my life and I don't have more time to waste on getting over that. If I only had myself and my own sanity to worry about then maybe I could've let you do this to me, but I have to stay in one sane piece not only for myself, but for Caden too. And compared to him you'll always lose, it's as simple as that. I'm not gonna take that chance and trust you because I can't deal with heartbreak right now. So no, this isn't enough, I'm sorry. You're just gonna have to deal with everything in some other way. Suck it up, Gerard."

Gerard stared at him, slightly shocked at what he had to say. It seemed like there still was a part of him that had simply expected him to accept his confession and then everything would sort itself out. Eventually he nodded slowly, unfolding his arms.

"Okay," he said, giving him a vague, resigned smile. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I'm sorry for…well, for everything. But I do understand. I'm gonna have to suck it up, you're right. You've been right about most things all along. At least you know what the deal is," he added.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Thanks." A short, awkward silence fell between them. "I, uhm, I probably have to get back to the bar, help the others close up and everything…" Frank's voice faded as he gestured up the carpeted steps.

"Oh, right. Sure." Gerard nodded quickly and gave him another brief smile. "I'm sorry. Don't let me keep you."

As he made his way back with his tray, Frank felt strangely empty, like the bottom of his stomach had been ripped out and all that was left was a cavity, a gaping hole that caused a draft. It made his chest ache and he felt endlessly sad. Sad that Gerard hadn't told him earlier, sad that he'd gotten so confused he even had to move to another ship because of him, and sad that the situation just wasn't different. He was sad and angry that the rational part of him had won and that he actually didn't mind.

He stopped once and looked over his shoulder, checking to see if Gerard was still standing there, but he had already retreated into the backstage darkness.