Fever Dream || Frank Iero

.26.

MELISSA

Gerard was taken by paramedics by the time I came to, and Mikey rode with him to the hospital. The rest of us stayed behind to talk to the police about what happened, numerous complaints coming through during Gerard's tirade. One of the paramedics examined me for a moment, informing me that there will likely be ringing in my ears for a few hours due to how close my head was to the gun when it went off. Bob and Ray volunteered to go let everyone on tour know what was happening once the police left.

    This left Frank and I in the hotel room to make some attempt to clean up, and gather things to bring Mikey and Gerard the next morning.

    After all of the screaming and turmoil, the abrupt silence was almost unsettling, and I wasn't sure which was worse. A terrible cloud hung over the room and everyone that had been inside of it. It felt like the light was sucked out of all of us.

    Frank and I remained silent as we slowly gathered things around the room. Between the pounding headache I still had and the physical exhaustion from throwing myself against the door, I just didn't have the energy to say a word. I wasn't sure there was anything to say in the first place.

    Gerard had broken nearly all the lamps in the room, leaving moonlight and one surviving bulb as our source of light. The clock read 4:30 in the morning, but each minute was crawling. I just wanted to go back in time when things felt like they were okay, if they even ever were. I wanted to go back to that first show where I felt whole again. It was easy to long for that when I was now left in this hotel room feeling empty.

    I stood at faux kitchen counter where what used to be a coffee pot was kept, now in pieces in the garbage can. The blood was gone, scrubbed from the sink. It looked clean, but the picture of it covered in red was all I could see. Fatigue came over me, an intense mix of every emotion, but at the same time no emotion at all continuously digging into me. I heard no movement from Frank in the room, and I felt alone.

    I placed my hands apart on the edge of the counter, looking down at the sink. I'm not sure how long I remained that way- it could have been a few minutes, or a few hours. I just couldn't bring myself to look at one more piece of broken glass.

    Lost in a lack of thought, I felt arms slowly wrap around my waist without a word. The warmth felt so safe in that moment. Any anger from our argument dissipated as he held tighter- no thoughts of the bet, or the constant push and pull of our turbulent relationship. No thoughts of "why is he being nice to me" that I always had, no confusion. The only things I felt were the things I desperately needed to feel.

    He sat his head in the crook of my neck, the room still silent- and something in me finally gave way.

    The tears that I just couldn't seem to get out every time I needed them to- or really when they should have- finally came. They poured out of me like a dam had burst, falling from my cheeks and onto the counter in front of me. Not being the type to cry in front of others, I would normally have been embarrassed, but it felt amazing.

    Everything that was building up- not only on tour, but in the months prior- finally released. So I let it happen. I cried. I cried for Gerard, for what Sam did to me, for being dishonest with myself. The relief overflowed.

    Frank remained silent, holding me tightly.

    "How did we get here?" Was all I could whisper after a few minutes.

    I could feel Frank's chest move on my back as he breathed in. His arms loosened- and I expected him to let go and walk away, but he didn't. Instead he turned me around to face him, his hands now wrapped around my face. He looked at me in a way I've never seen him look at anything, but none of it scared me; and his lips crashed into mine.

    I fell into the kiss without thought, his hands running through my hair. Electricity moved through my entire body, and my heart felt like it was finally beating again. His hands traveled down to my hips, the over sized men's shirt I had changed into from the bloodied dress riding up. Frank lifted me up and sat me down on the counter, his lips moving more aggressively, along with mine.

    The feeling of his hands on my skin was like something out of a strange fantasy I didn't know I had- every touch sending a shiver down my spine. I didn't want it to end, despite all of what's happened between us. I didn't care about any of it anymore.

    His hands ran up and down my thighs, mine tangled in his hair. Frank grabbed my face, finally parting our lips and resting his forehead on mine.

    "What are you doing to me, Bambi?" He whispered, panting before pressing his lips against mine again.

    I melted into him, his hands running up the bare of my back underneath the shirt. The only thought I had for split second about the bet, was that this couldn't be it- Everything about it felt like it made the most sense anything ever could have. At no point did he try and push boundaries, or pressure me into fucking him. Though it was agressive, it was still soft.

    The most confusing encounter during the entire tour left me with no confusion. I was the most peaceful I may have ever been on that counter- the moonlight being the only thing lighting our bodies, and Frank's hands on my skin. I didn't just feel good. I felt okay.