The Sharpest Lives (frerard)

We Need To Talk

Frank Iero

"Hey, dad..." I mutter before I can let my anxiety take over and stop me from doing this like it has a thousand times before.

"What is it, Frank?" He asks, eyebrows creasing at my sudden panic. Oh no. This isn't the right time to be doing this. I need Gerard here. I'll do it next week...

"Can I... talk to you?" I ask as steadily as I can, denying my thoughts and going with my gut, feeling my heart pound so hard I think it might explode.

"Yeah, of course." He sits down on the couch, beckoning me to sit next to him. Awkwardly, I place myself on the couch beside him, feeling my stomach turn over at the thought of what I'm about to say.

"I need to tell you something. Something I've kept hidden for way too long." my voice starts to shake now. Holy shit. I'm actually about to do this.

"Well, what is it?" He asks me softly, then stops. His face seems to twist in disgust, and, just as I'm starting to think everything's going to be ok, he says: "But please don't tell me that your gay or bi or trans or something, because that'd be... you know." He laughs nervously, placing a hand on my knee.

No. Oh no.

Instead of pounding from anxiety, my heart seems to stop. A dead, dark hole takes its place, filling me not with sadness or anger or disappointment, but with... emptiness.

The one person I thought I could actually trust in my family just ripped my heart in half.

I take a deep breath, trying to make myself say something, anything.

"No, of... of course, I'm... not g-gay or anything." I laugh convincingly, forcing myself not to have a mental breakdown right here.

"Oh, well that's good. I'm glad. Anyway, what was it you wanted to tell me?" He asks as a lump in my throat starts to form, forcing tears to form in my eyes. I swallow hard, praying that he won't see the tears.

"I..." My mind races to improvise something I did not plan for at all. "I love you." My voice catches in my throat as I realize that this is the first time I've said that without meaning it in the slightest. Dad puts his arm around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Aw, I love you too, Frank." He mutters. I feel tears blur my vision, telling me to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible. I pull away slowly, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm going to the bathroom..." I murmur, standing up, not daring to catch dad's eye.

"Oh, ok..." Dad says and I can feel his eyes watching as I walk away from him. I turn the corner, heading as fast as I can to my room. My vision swims as I stumble down the hallway, my hand reaching for the doorknob. I turn it quickly, almost falling into my room as the door swings open in front of me.

I turn around, closing the door and locking it once, twice, three times. Then, before I know what's happening, I find myself sitting cross-legged on my bed, tears pouring down my cheeks, soaking my hands and the collar of my shirt. I feel myself starting to hyperventilate, my breathing ragged and messy.

He won't accept me. He won't love me. He won't want me. Because of who I am.

A small flair sparks up in my chest, burning up the sadness like a wave. It grows, devouring every other emotion in me until there's nothing left but anger. Festering, it takes over my arms, my legs, my chest. He's going to hate me when he finds out I'm not straight. He's going to hate me.

"He's going to hate me!" I mouthe, screaming silently to nothing. Tears continue to pour down my cheeks, hatred and anger and disappointment all combined into one. What will he do? Will he just ignore me? Or will it be worse? Will he make me leave his house? Will he make me live with mom? Will he force me to break up with Gerard?

Gerard. The name sparks an idea inside of me. I grab my phone, attempting to find his name in my contacts through watery eyes. C... I scroll through my contacts desperately. D.... E... F... G. His name sits at the top of the list. I press on it, bringing the phone up to my ear.

Ringing. Nothing but ringing for a solid ten seconds. Then, a voicemail. I take my phone away, trying again. The same happens. Ringing, voice mail. He'll answer in a minute. Ringing, voice mail. Try again. Ringing, voicemail. Try again. Try again. Try again-

He's not going to answer.

A sickening feeling starts creeping its way into my stomach. My breathing starts to speed up again, thoughts telling me things I want to ignore, I want to deny, I want to scream at until they go away.

My eyes drift towards the window, and I see my reflection in the glass pain. Red-rimmed eyes, ruffled hair, tear-stained clothes. I look like a monster.

But something else I see in the window sparks a dangerous thought in my brain. The road below me.

What if I...

Just left?

No one would miss me. My dad doesn't accept me, my mom doesn't care about me, and Gerard seems to hate me because he won't answer his damn phone.

A stone-cold feeling settles in my stomach. Not anger, not sadness, not determination. Just... numbness.

Before I know what's happening, my feet are moving quickly and I'm dashing around the room, my schoolbag in hand, picking up the food I've stored in my room and spare clothes I might need, my wallet and my phone. Once everything crammed into my small backpack, I stand next to my bed, staring out into the street below me. No one's going to care if I leave, I force myself to accept.

Then, the numbness inside me controlling my every move, my hands quickly pull open the window. A deep breath, a last glance, a step up to the window ledge, and I jump.