Alcoholics Anonymous [GW]

Chapter 17.

Cath's Point of View

Ray wakes me up, shaking my shoulders. Emma let him in, he said, so I nod and get up, careful not to disturb the still-sleeping Gerard.

"We have a gig at three today, and it's like ten now, so we're gonna have to take Gerard, that ok?"

I stutter. "He drank last night,"

Ray nods. "I know. He called me and I told him to go to your place. He had Frank with him, I think?"

Again, I am angry. So Frank knew Gerard was drunk and didn't tell him to stop?

Noticing my pause, he begs, "It's our biggest gig yet. There should be, like two hundred people or something. It's for a festival. At the Gazelle Center?"

Wow. The Gazelle Center. This was important, and I trusted Mikey and Ray. Not so sure about Frank, but I could let him go. I know I can't become too attached.

"Yeah. Take him."

Ray smiles, and slaps Gerard in the face. I recoil in shock from secondhand pain, but Ray only laughs as Gerard's eyes flutter open. "It's the only thing that will wake him up. Honestly," he said in response to my surprised expression. I file that information away for future reference.

Ray leads a stumbling Gerard out the door, taking a protein bar on the way out, not even asking, and has the audacity to not even say thanks.

Rolling my eyes, I laugh.

And then, I remember something about last night.

"Gerard, I love you, you know that?"

That was the first time I told him I loved him. He was drunk though, probably doesn't remember a thing.

Oh, God.

I told him I loved him, didn't I?

But did I mean it?

Yeah, of course I do... right? Yes. I do. I am just to scared to admit it.

But what about the other way around?

He was the one who kissed me, right? He was the one who gave me the coffee? He brought me to his band practice that day? He saw me staring at him after his statement in AA?

His statement in AA...

"I hate myself."

It must be worse after Mikey, well... I try to see this from his perspective, and I know exactly what I would do in this situation, to find out your brother was hiding all of this inside him, oh God. This was why Gerard was acting up. I decided to talk to him at the festival, three o'clock at the Gazelle Center. I'm sure it's nothing. I'm probably just paranoid.

The Gazelle Center doesn't give backstage passes to friends or family, so I had to pay my ten-dollar entry fee and wandered around the festival. The Center was less of a center and more of a small park with buildings surrounding it. Today, though, it was transformed with three small stages set up on corners of the park and vendors. To the left of the entrance was an announcer tent, with a few programs on the table. JerseyFest was the name of this festival, and apparently the bands playing were all local and unheard of.

My Chemical Romance played at three-thirty at Stage Two, but the time being only two-forty five, I decided to enjoy myself. I mean, I payed ten dollars. I decide on a band called Testdrive on Stage One, and then I would head over to Stage Two to watch Heels Over Head play before My Chemical Romance. Each band was really good, and I was able to pick up a Testdrive demo CD before they ran out.

When Heels Over Head were done playing, the announcer cleared his throat over the speakers, "Next on Stage Two, My Chemical Romance will preform,"

I, along with about a hundred others gathered at Stage Two, wait anxiously for the band to play. I check my watch. 3:32. They're probably setting up still, I think. 3:35. People are starting to grumble and walk away to Stage Three. 3:36. A crash, like a shattering of glass, is heard from backstage. 3:37. Ray comes out on stage, hair a mess, and eyes distraught. "I'm sorry, but we are having a problem, and, uh, we might be a few minutes? Please, don't leave! Thank you!" People begin to whisper, and I push past them to get to backstage, where Ray is waiting for me with a grimace. "It's Gerard," he whispers.