tear in my heart | tyler joseph

Chapter Thirty One

"No, Tyler, not- TYLER!"

Cynthia glowered at her husband, who fell to the ground, laughing his ass off. "I-I'm sorry!" he choked out, tears beginning to form. She sighed and shook her head before hearing the doorbell ring. She ran to the front door and threw it open to find Gerard, Lindsey, and Bandit. "Hey, guys- STOP LAUGHING, I KNOW THE DAMAGE."

"I did that to Daddy once!" Bandit yelled, running inside and laughing. Cynthia blinked a few times before mumbling, "Ah, yes, you stuck stars to Gerard's face-"

"And I answered the door, forgetting she had done so," Gerard finished, grinning. Lindsey laughed and said, "In all honesty, I had forgotten about that."

"Good, let's not jog your memory any further," Gerard joked. From the living room, Tyler yelled, "SHE STUCK THE STARS TO MY FACE!"

"WELL, TAKE THEM OFF!" Cynthia yelled.

"I CAN'T, SHE'S SITTING ON MY CHEST AND WHEN I TRY TO PULL THEM-" His words were muffled by Bandit putting stars over his mouth. "Be quiet, Uncle Tyler." He playfully glared at the child, who giggled.

Cynthia walked into the living room and shook her head. "You poor, poor human," she said, sitting beside of Tyler. "You have to deal with this sorry excuse of a man-child." Tyler threw his arms up into the air and glared at her. She laughed and ruffled his hair.

"You should dye your hair like Daddy did," Bandit said, smiling. "He looked really cool, especially with his blonde hair!"

"I didn't look cool," Gerard mumbled. "I got called a lemon."

"But you went with it," Lindsey stated. "So it's your fault they kept calling you a lemon until you re-dyed your hair."

"I just did it for the memes!"

"Who cares whether or not you did it for the memes?" Cynthia asked. She looked at Tyler. "Don't dye your hair." He shook his head as if to say 'I won't, trust me.'

Cynthia sighed and stood up, going to the bathroom. When she shut the door, she looked at herself in the mirror and mumbled, "It could be worse." She had a large bump for a stomach, being five months pregnant. She gently rested a hand on her stomach and smiled; she and Tyler had come so far since that one day seven years ago. Not everything was good, though. For example, the day Tyler nearly broke her neck:

Tyler did that adorable little giggle of his as he pulled her through the crowd, towards the playground. "It'll be fun, Cynthia, I promise!"

"Tyler, you're a twenty year old man getting excited over monkey bars. Take a minute to realize how ridiculous that sounds-"

"WE'RE HERE!"

"Oh, great," she mumbled sarcastically, stopping and crossing her arms over her chest. Tyler looked back at her and said, "Aren't you gonna come?"

"I'm good, thanks."

"No, come on-"

"Tyler, I said no-"

"Well, too late, we're going," he said with a grin, sticking his tongue out at her. She rolled her eyes and followed him to the monkey bars.

They climbed to the top and sat there precariously, in silence. Cynthia broke the silence with, "What do we do now?"

"I don't know- BUTTERFLY!"

"WHAT?!" She looked around frantically, being a huge fan of butterflies (she thought they were so beautiful). She lost her balance and fell off of the monkey bars, hitting the ground with a thud. She groaned and put a hand up to her neck, which was sore. "TYLER, WHAT THE HECK?!"

"Sorry, sorry!" He jumped down and helped her up. She rubbed her neck and glared at him. "You do not lie to me about butterflies! You know that!"

"I'm sorry, I really thought it was a butterfly!"

"THEN GET GLASSES!" She stormed off, leaving Tyler feeling guilty.

Or the time he made her think he got rid of her albums.

"Tyler, where are my albums?" Cynthia asked, running into the living room and searching everywhere. "Your albums?"

"Yeah, the ones I value with my life. The ones that helped me not commit suicide."

"Oh, I got rid of 'em." She stopped and looked at him. "What?"

"I got rid of them. Poof. Gone forever." She stared at him before calmly grabbing the seventh Harry Potter book and throwing it at him. It hit him straight in the gut, causing him to yell and swear loudly. She threw the sixth book at him and yelled, "NO SWEARING!"

"THEN STOP THROWING BOOKS AT ME, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

"TELL ME THAT YOU DIDN'T GET RID OF ALL MY ALBUMS!"

"OKAY, OKAY, I DIDN'T! THEY'RE IN THE BACK OF THE CLOSET IN THE BEDROOM!"

"THANK YOU!" She threw a paperback version of the fifth book at him and ran upstairs, desperate to find them.

She ran into their bedroom and rummaged through the closet, searching. She moved a bin to the side and found a cardboard box that she knew held her albums. She pulled it out and opened it, letting out a sigh of relief. She was right; sure enough, the albums were in there. She pulled each one out, just to make sure they were all in there.

Sixty seconds later, she sat back and smiled. Tyler had stayed true to his word. They were all in there, and she was a happy emo.

She held I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love in her hands and sighed softly. It hurt her to listen to that album. The songs weren't bad; believe me, they were great. But it was My Chemical Romance's start. It just hurt to listen to it. She cried every time.

Don't get me wrong, there were lots of other times. But not every single one of them can be named.

We'd be here for an eternity.