You Had Me At Hello

2: Let's Go Back To The Middle Of The Day That Starts It All

"Just tell him that you came to hang out with me, and since no one else is there, he'll most likely tell you that you can come in and wait for me to get back," he huffed through the other end. I could tell he was being hyperactive from his uneven breathing.

"Look, I've been to your house a million times. I'm sure I can find some reason to have to talk to him. It's not that big of a deal, Mikey. This isn't the first human interaction I've ever had, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I just... This is a really big deal to me. Even if it isn't to you," he trailed off. From the shuffling, I could assume that he was attempting to put shoes on. "Look, I know you can do it. I'm just super nervous. This may be my last shot at saving him, and I'm putting the whole damn hatchery in your basket..."

"I know. I know. I understand. Don't worry. I got you," I attempted to reassure him. I heard him sigh. "Look, it may not go horribly. I mean, I'm sure I can figure out something. He's an artist, right? I'll talk to him about that."

"Art," he repeated. "Yes, that's good. I forgot about that. See, you do know a little bit about him." I laughed to myself. "Okay, so I am about to leave now. So, give me about fifteen minutes before you show up, okay?"

"Yes, sir. I think it can take me about fifteen to walk there. Mikes? Don't worry about it, okay?" I tried to lighten his mood a bit.

"Okay..." His voice wavered a bit. "I trust you. I'm heading out the door now. I'll see you after a while."

"See ya."

I grabbed my jacket and slipped it on, patting the pockets for my cigarettes and keys. I headed out the front door, locking it behind me. Mikey only lived about three blocks away from me. It was a walk I knew well, one that I knew wouldn't take fifteen minutes. I paced myself slowly, running through all the possible scenarios that I could come up with. As I rounded the last corner, I saw the oh-so familiar house. It was a small house, compared to mine. The family inside was bigger though. I guess that's why I liked spending so much time there. As I approached the little picket fence, I stopped and took one last drag from my cigarette before tossing it to the road. I made my way to the front door and knocked, just loud enough to be heard. There was silence. I looked down at the ground, waiting patiently. Finally, the door creaked open.

"Hello?" The voice was almost unrecognizable. I cleared my throat and put my hands in my pockets.

"Hey, I came by to see if Mikey wanted to hang out." I attempted to follow the original plan, as laid out by a desperate younger brother. He pushed the door open and stepped to the side.

"Well, he just went to the store, or something... I don't really know," he muttered. "Anyway, you're welcome to come in and wait for him, if you want." I nodded and stepped inside. He shut the door behind me, and I turned to look at him. "I don't know what he went for, or when he'll be back, but you basically live here, so I guess, just make yourself at home."

"Thanks," I replied. I assumed there would be more dialogue to play off of, but that backfired. "So, how's your day going?" He raised a brow at me. I mentally slapped myself. How's your day going? Really?

"Ah, I guess it's going okay. You?"

"Well, it's going. It's a little chilly out for this time of year." The fucking weather? Did I really just strike up small talk about the weather?

"I guess so. I haven't really been outside much," he shrugged. He turned to walk back down the hallway. I stood there for a minute, watching as he disappeared just past Mikey's room. I waited a few seconds before following the same path. I tapped on the door and it creaked open. He looked at me as if I were a ghost.

"So, got any projects your working on?" I was reaching hard, hoping it would be enough to strike up a conversation. He tilted his head to the side.

"Projects?"

"Yeah, like art stuff?" Wow.

"Yeah, um... No, not any current projects. I guess I haven't been really feeling the artistic vibe lately," he said slowly. I'm pretty sure he was just as confused as I was, but I nodded as if I understood.

"You used to have some stuff up on the walls. I just figured I'd ask. Hell, Mikey and I have been friends for years, and we've barely even talked. Figured, might as well..."I trailed off. My gaze wandered around the room. He was more well-kept than Mikey. It seemed like everything had its place, and everything was in order.

"Yeah, I guess that is kind of weird. You have been friends since middle school," he muttered, turning back around to face the desk he was sitting at. He leaned forward and began scribbling in the notebook in front of him. I stepped further into the room, hoping for some kind of dialogue to play off of. He kept writing for a few minutes, before setting the pen down and turning back to face me. "So, how's life going?"

"It's okay, I guess. If I'm not here, I'm pretty much at home in bed. I lead a very exciting life, you see," I joked. He chuckled lightly and nodded.

"I get that. I don't really do a whole lot, either. I am either sleeping, writing, drawing..." He trailed off again. "So, what kind of stuff are you into? Movies? Music? Art stuff?"

"Eh, I watch movies from time to time. I can't live without my music though," I admitted. I slowly made my way towards his bed and sat down on the edge. "What about you?"

"I love older movies. The newer ones just aren't as well written. I totally get the music thing though. Some of my worst days are made a little more bearable by just letting the music drown out my thoughts." Okay. I'm getting somewhere, at least. "It may be strange, but just listening to music has gotten me through a lot."

"No, I totally get that. When my sister died, I wouldn't leave my room. I stayed to myself, listening to music for hours on end. It was one of the worst times in my life, but somehow, even with all of the negativity in my head, I made it through. I don't think I could've without music." I felt the tears well up, and I coughed to fight away the urge the cry. His eyes softened.

"Wow, I didn't know that. How old was she?" He asked sympathetically. I looked down at the bed and began fidgeting with a string on the blanket.

"She was eight. Her and my mom were in a car wreck." The burning in my chest was getting worse. I closed my eyes to stop the tears from coming. "My mom survived, but she wasn't able to handle the survivor's guilt. We had to admit her into the hospital shortly after. I haven't seen her in almost eight years. My dad doesn't want me to remember her that way. He wants me to remember the happy, healthy version of her." I could feel the words pouring out in a steady stream, but I couldn't turn it off. "But, it's just me at home all the time. Dad's in the military. He's been gone for three years, and so, without him or my mom or my sister, that house is just empty all the time. I hate being there by myself." I felt a warm hand on my back. When I opened my eyes, I saw him kneeling in front of me. "Jesus, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for all that to come out like that. I don't talk about them very often. Since Mikey is really the only person I talk to, it just never gets brought up."

"No, it's okay... I'm sorry that you went through all of that. I know saying sorry doesn't make it any better, but still..."He said softly. He reached up and wiped away a tear from my cheek. I shrugged.

"Well, now that you have my life story..."I laughed half-heartedly. "I'm Taylor." He stood up, only to sit next to me on the bed.

"Well, Taylor... I'm Gerard. Nice to finally get to know you."