We'll Meet Again (Frerard)

I'm Not Okay

Chapter One:

I'm Not Okay

"I miss him, you know? I never thought I could never lose him. We were young, in love, and assumed we were at the top of the world. I wonder where he is, Mikes. I wonder."

"So do I, but they never found the body. Maybe he's still out there, running."

"I hope so."

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Frank has been gone for a year now, and I haven't cried a single tear for the past month. But now the anniversary of his pronounced death is approaching- only two days more- and I don't thnk the tears will stop again for weeks.

I don't know if I can handle it.

I don't know if I can stop myself from jumping off a bridge to join him. I can't handle the misery of knowing he is either dead or out there all alone, and either hasn't come to find me, or can't find me.

.

Maybe a bridge would be a harsh way to go. I can only imagine not being able to breath. Your lungs try to transform the water into something useful, but only become clogged. Your nose burning while it sucks in liquid instead of gas. You're gasping in water as you fall deeper and deeper into the cold dark blue. Your vision going blurry, clouded with black spots from the loss of oxygen. Maybe I could find a tall enough bridge to die on impact...

I shouldn't even be thinking of the prospect. I have to protect Mikey from this ugly, ugly world. Even if he's only a few years younger- I'm twenty three, he's twenty one- he still needs me. Some how we both ended up liking guys. And since I knew Mikey was gay even before he did, I've always had to help him. He is so shy that he wouldn't last a minute in Jersey alone. Although, maybe my death would strengthen him... Maybe it'd propel him outward, because he can't go any farther inward. It seems like enough of a win-win to me.

.

We live in an apartment together, and he sometimes, like tonight, crawls into my bed when he has nightmares. They usually consist of our parents. Although both of them love us and accept us, Mikey is afraid it's all a lie so no one can have dirt about on them about hating their gay children.

I wonder if Frank's mom even cares that he's gone. She hated him for being gay, for being the same as his father. His dad left when Frank was two with his long-time friend Eric, and never came back.

Maybe she's the reason he left me. Maybe she's the reason for all this heartbreak, suffering, and loss.

.

I looked over at the red numbers shining from my alarm clock. It's almost midnight. I climbed off my bed, careful not to wake up Mikey from his now peaceful sleep. Then I crept into the kitchen and sat at the table. The coffee machine practically screamed my name. I filled up my favorite mug, a small, chipped Tardis coffee-cup, with water and poured it into the machine. A day-old filter full of coffee grounds was still sitting in the machine. I added a spoon full of fresh, delicious smelling grounds to the pile of old ones, then pushed the button and sat back down. A few minutes later, I had a fresh cup of black coffee to accompany my thoughts.

I suppose if I'm going to leave Mikey, I should him write a note. The anniversary of Frank's death seems like such a cliche day- such a romantically tragic day time to leave this world and join him.

I guess it's decided then.

I wiped my skinny finger around the rim of my cup; my other hand holding my chin. I leaned over to grabbed a pad and pen out of a drawer.

I tapped the pen to my lip.

Dear Mikes

I stared writing, my bright red hair spilling into my face. I dyed it this color in memory of how energetic and extroverted my Frank was, also for the fact that he had once said red was a good color on me.

I just want to start out by saying I love you. I really do. You are the best little brother anyone could ever have. We have been through so much together. The drugs, the boys, the nightmares. I remember when you had your first kiss. It was with that Pete guy, right? Yeah. I love how you blushed so hard every time we talked. Let me tell you something, I know you have the biggest crush on Ray. Let me tell you something even better, he has a crush on you too. His eyes light up every time he sees you, and I know you haven't noticed. Talk to him, okay?

I had to flip to the next page in the paper pad.

I want to apologize for the fact that by the time you read this, I'll either be on my way to jump, someone saw me and stopped me, on the way to the hospital, or I'm dead. Please Mikey, don't cry over me. I'm a lost cause without Frank. Take Ray with you when you come searching for me; try the hospital first, and then the river. Buy me a nice casket gown? You know it better be black, and it better be tight, and it better be just my size. I doubt mom and dad will come to my funeral. They always said suicide was cowardice. I guess it doesn't matter much. I've hardly talked to them the past couple years.

I hope this doesn't make you have more nightmares. And if it ever gets that far between you two, I give you my blessing with Ray. He's a sweet guy.

I turned to the next page and drank the last bit of my coffee. A few tears made their way to the paper. I didn't want to die and leave Mikey, but I also didn't want to live any longer without Frank. Heaven help me.

Mikey, you are strong, and you will survive. I believe in you, and I know you can make it somewhere in life. Don't be afraid to keep on living. Just keep practicing your bass and following your passions, okay? Write a song for me and Frank? I'd love to hear your voice singing, where ever I end up, while cuddling with Frank. I'm not okay, Mikey, but I promise Frank can make me better again.

Thank you for understanding. Even if you don't understand now, you will later.

Oh, and thank you for the venom,

Gerard.

The closing- 'Thank you for the venom"- was an inside thing between me and Mikey.

.

When we were a couple years younger, drugs ruled our lives. So we created our own version of "pick your poison", because we weren't really picking it, but actually handing each other any substance we could get our hands on. It was brutal and dangerous, but we couldn't stop. Together we earned the title "The Chemical Brothers" from everyone we knew. We never even thought of stopping until our friend Brendon over-dosed and didn't even make it to the hospital alive. That night we vowed to kill off the Chemical Brothers and never take another drug.

Of course, I still had, and have, other addictions. My wrist has silvery-pink scars; my breath always smells like coffee and cigarettes; I buy new paints weekly.

My paints. I'll miss painting when I die. I hope I still can where ever I go.

.

My Tardis mug ended up in the sink as I headed to my room to hide my letter. Mikey had rolled over into a ball under the covers. I smiled as I thought of him, and how proud I was. I ended up hiding the letter inside of one of my unused stretched canvases. By this time, it was 1:20 in the morning. I slipped back into bed without waking up my younger brother, and fell asleep thinking of how I will finally see Frank again.

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This is my first Frerard, so tell me what you think please? And I promise it's Frerard. Just trust me.

Okay?

Okay.

I hope you all like it so far, and I can't wait to share more of it!

ThAnKs,

-xobee