The Man I Know I'm Not [Frerard] (Sequel To Tell Me I'm A Bad Man)

Eleven - I Cried Tears You'll Never See

I woke up a few hours later, alone, curled up in bed. There were dried tears on my face and eyeliner stains on the sheets, and Gerard was nowhere to be seen.

There were clothes hung over the chair in the corner of the room, with a pair of shoes underneath, but apart from that the room was void of anything indicating that Gerard and I had been there.

Feeling more than a little numb inside, I climbed out of bed and dragged myself towards the shower, wondering where my boyfriend would be. I'd fallen asleep before he'd gotten out of the shower this morning, and there was no sign of him climbing into bed with me afterwards. Maybe he'd already gone down to breakfast. If it was still breakfast time, of course.

I rubbed my arms, waiting for the water to heat up, and when it had, I stepped under the spray. It was pretty much scalding, but I didn't care; I had more important things on my mind.

Ten minutes passed with me just standing there, letting the water run over my body, until I snapped out of it and actually began washing myself. Even then that was done in a sort-of daze, my thoughts running at a hundred miles a minute. I kept thinking about whether Gerard hated me or not.

I went down to the hotel's dining room after my shower, where everyone else seemed to be. Ryan, Brendon, Patrick, Pete, Ray, Mikey and Gerard were around one table, and the only space left was, predictably, between the Way brothers. I slipped into the seat as Gerard took a sip of coffee, not even bothering to glance at me.

"Hey." I said quietly, and he simply nodded in acknowledgement. "Listen," I lowered my voice, leaning towards him. "I'm sorry, I -"

"Don't." He hissed, and I stared at him, stunned.

I'd barely been there five minutes, hadn't said a 'good morning' to anyone, and already I wanted to leave. He was being strangely defensive over something that was purely hypothetical, but it was my fault for mentioning it in the first place...right?

I stood up, and left the room as calmly as I could. I hated being given the cold-shoulder by Gerard. It made me feel horrible. I went into the hotel gardens, finding the nearest bench and sitting on it. Well, it was more like slumping, but whatever. I was just tired.

I heard footsteps after a few minutes and looked up to see Ryan, who glanced around, spotting me and coming to join me. His eyes moved over my face before a sigh fell from his lips, and his eyebrows rose slightly.

"Has something happened between you and Gerard?" He asked, and just as I opened my mouth, he continued. "You don't have to tell me everything, but at least tell me the truth."

I considered lying to him, saying that everything was just fine, but I knew he'd see right through it. He wasn't stupid. "Kinda." I admitted. "We, uh, had an argument and now he won't talk to me."

He nodded slowly, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. "It'll be okay. You guys will sort yourselves out, trust me."

I scoffed. "I unintentionally accused him of something really personal to him; I don't think he'll be forgiving me in a hurry."

He smiled reassuringly. "I find that hard to believe."

I shrugged, and then took a deep breath. "Can I ask you something really personal and insensitive?"

He tilted his head to the side a little. "Of course."

"It's just..." I hesitated. "How do you feel about the fact that there is a possibility of you dying at any moment?"