7 - This Is The Best Day Ever

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7 - This Is The Best Day Ever


Gerard woke up the next day with the mother of all headaches. His whole head was pounding, his vision swimming and the taste of vomit in his mouth. All in all, he felt like utter shit. And that was before he remembered his boyfriend cheating on him and his bandmates finding him passed out on the tarmac outside the bus. 

He rolled onto his back, which ached from sleeping awkwardly on the sofa. At least he hadn't been sick again.

Thank god today was a day off. They'd been playing shows every night for almost a week now, and as much as he looked forward to them he knew he needed a day of resting up. Especially with the hangover from hell that was definitely not going to lift for hours and hours to come. Not that he really expected anything else - you can't drinking that much vodka and not feel the repercussions the next day. 

It also meant less chance of having to bump into Bert on his way to soundcheck. Maybe he'd just stay on the bus all day and hide from the world. That seemed like a pretty good plan.

"Hey" he jumped a little, turning to see Frank stood in the doorway. 

"Oh, hey" he made a brief attempt to try and tame his hair by running his fingers through it, but quickly abandoned it.

"How are you feeling?" Frank sat down on the end of the sofa, next to his legs.

"Oh, you know" Gerard grimaced "kinda like I've been hit by a truck. And then run over. Repeatedly."

"At least we found you out there, you'd been feeling a hell of a lot worse if you'd stayed passed out on the ground. You'd probably have caught fucking pneumonia or something" Frank frowned, but he didn't seem cross with him. At least that's something Gerard thought. There was no way he was in the headspace to be dealing with his best friend being mad at him on top of everything else. 

"Yeah, I owe you guys one."

"You don't owe us anything Gee" Frank sighed "you should've called us the minute you found out about Bert. You know I would've come back here in an instant, and kicked his ass whilst I was at it."

"I know" he smiled a little at the thought "I guess I just wasn't thinking straight. I kind of didn't want to though, you know? It all happened so quick, walking in on Bert, and then the vodka..."

"You walked in on him?"

"Yeah, him and the reporter that was sucking him off" Gerard bit the inside of his mouth a little, trying to hold back the fresh wave of hurt and betrayal that had appeared when he began thinking about it again.

"Shit Gee, I'm so sorry, what a fucking dick" Frank surprised him then by scooting closer up the sofa so he was lying next to him, and pulled him in for a hug. Gerard happily leaned his head against his shoulder, a tattooed arm around his own, and let out a long shaky breath. 

"I just don't know what to do now" he admitted in a small voice "I mean, we've got the whole rest of tour. I'm going to have to see him and speak to him, but I feel like I'd just burst into tears."

"You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to. I can tell him to fuck off no problem. I'll tell him every day if I have to."

"Thanks Frankie."

"Any time. I mean it too, you're not alone in this" they were quiet for a moment, both just leaning against each other. It was weird, but it was genuinely making Gerard feel better, like he couldn't concentrate on his headache so much when all his attention was on the places where Frank's skin was touching his. 

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