Fever Dream || Frank Iero

.21.

It didn't take long for word of what Sam did to get around, and he was nowhere to be found the next day. Deep down I had known what happened, but there was too much anger toward Sam to care about what Frank may have done to him.

    The space beside me was empty when I woke up that morning, and in a fresh mind I was thankful. Waking up to Frank would be too strange to deal with, nor did I want to really figure out why I felt I needed him in bed with me in the first place. All I cared about when my head lifted from the pillow is if Frank told the others that I slept in his bed with him. My expectations of everyone's' actions up to this point have been terribly wrong, so I was hoping the streak would continue in this particular case.

    I left Frank's empty room and made my way back to my room where Jessica was waiting outside the door. She bombard me before I even had a chance to dig the key card out of my bra, but I could hardly focus on the words she said through the terrible fog hanging around me.

    "Melissa, everyone is telling me he tried to- oh my god your neck..." Jessica grabbed my arm and turned me around.

    "It's not that bad."

    "Not that bad, are you crazy? It looks like a rabid dog got a hold of you! Why didn't you call me?" Jessica muttered, looking disappointed.

    "I don't know, I panicked and ran. Frank's room was the closest," I said, looking out the window. "Who is everyone, anyway? It's been like less than nine hours, how does everyone know?"

    Jessica frowned and looked down at her feet.

    "I guess Pete was in Sam's room, he saw what happened."

    I grew frustrated, mostly because I still felt I couldn't trust Pete. Reasons of doubt kept showing themselves to me in very obvious ways. Ignoring them was impossible.

    I collapsed onto the hotel bed and looked up at the ceiling, still feeling small stings of pain when I moved my neck a certain way. I was dreading the next few hours, especially knowing I had to go downstairs and face a bunch of people that knew what did or didn't happen. It seemed that praying a black hole in the floor would open up and swallow me became a daily ritual.

    Gerard had bum-rushed me the moment Jessica and I walked out of the main entrance with our bags, asking more questions than I had time to answer. I promised him a conversation after the show later that night to get him off my case- all I wanted to do was get on the bus and lay back down.

    Everyone was bustling to get their things back on the buses, and the chaos only gave me a headache. I lit a cigarette in the parking lot and sat down on the curb to watch, only feeling a tiny bit guilty that I wasn't going out of my way to help.

    "Hey, finish that and we have to get going," Jessica said, tying her blonde waves into a ponytail. I nodded in her direction but didn't look away from the sky overlooking the hotel. A warm breeze crept up to my shoulders, and I wondered if I would feel better if I were anywhere else.

    Mid thought, a shadow cast over me and I looked forward to see Frank standing in front of me. His hair was completely disheveled, and now that it was daytime I could see the marks on his knuckles. He looked like he barely slept. I felt anxious for no particular reason- maybe at the thought that a mere few hours ago his arms were wrapped around me, and now we stand in front of each other like strangers once again.

    "Um, listen," Frank began, running a hand through his hair. "I just wanted to let you know he's not on tour anymore, so you don't have to worry about it."

    The Frank I first met and the Frank that beat a guy up for me the night before were slowly beginning to mesh together as the tour continued. It was frustrating being unable to determine who I was talking to, but I had no choice but to be patient. I couldn't unblur the lines no matter how hard I seemed to try.

    I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but withdrew.

    "Thank you," was all I could muster. I thought about that note and how I could end this all with just one question, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Maybe it wasn't the right time, if there ever was one.

    Frank said nothing, and I felt slightly uncomfortable. One of the bus drivers laid on the horn signaling to everyone that it was time to go, and Frank began to lean toward me. I thought he was leaning down to help me up off the curb so I began to reach my hand out, only for his hand to move right passed me to grab the thermos sitting next to me that I didn't realize was there.

    He saw me snake my hand back quickly as he stood straight and scoffed at me with a smirk, turning around and waltzing back to the bus. Right, I thought. This is Frank we're talking about. I don't know how I keep forgetting.