Beautifully Broken

Guilt Tripping

Frank

She wears a tie-dye hoodie, pulled down to cover whatever shorts she's got on. Her hair, now a striking purple-gray is trapped under her hood, a few strands dancing around her face, caught in the breeze. The tip of the wing on her blue and green phoenix tattoo peaks up over her collar, moving as she swallows. She digs a rain-boot covered toe into the mud, kicking up a rock. Her stormy blue eyes flick around the tent, landing on anything but me. Trailing a few paces behind the ray of sunshine that is Ashley is the king of the fucking rain clouds himself; Bert McCracken. He'll follow her around all tour like a pathetic puppy, hiding behind the guise of protecting her from the big bad wolf that he's painted me to be. What a sad excuse for a human being, what an absolute waste of an orgasm. I pop a pill onto my tongue, chasing it down with bitter coffee.

I watch as he curls his arms around her, her face lighting up as he presses sloppy lips to a porcelain cheek. Please tell me she's not with that guy. Anyone else I could stomach, anyone else and I can keep sleeping at night knowing that she's at least safe and maybe happy. He's a killer of souls, the grim reaper of hopes and dreams. Bert decimates all he comes into contact with, taking until there's nothing left but vacant eyes. Ashley and Bert share some kind of joke, each crossing their eyes as they stick their tongues out.

Ashley's eyes once again sweep the tent, lighting up as they brush over me. For a few seconds, I forget how to breathe, preparing myself to catch a squealing Ashley, her thin frame flying across the muddy ground. Though I was expecting more sarcastic comments and deathly side-eyeing, I'll take this greeting. We can put everything behind us; act like no hateful words were exchanged, no feelings were hurt. We can get back to who we were before. I'd welcome it after the years of radio silence. She blurs past my awkwardly outstretched arms, giggling as Gerard swings her through the air. I remind myself another pill is not the answer, filling my constricting throat with lukewarm sludge serenading as coffee.

"Well, maybe if you weren't so damn busy all the time," Gerard sasses, bumping his hip into Ashley's, the two of them laughing easily. They've always had such a lighthearted friendship, Gerard instantly letting Ashley into his inner world. For almost four months they were inseparable, Ashley able to help Gerard through one of his darkest times in ways no one else could. She was gentle with him, reminding him that it is okay to have demons and to make mistakes. I think Ashley was just removed enough for him to feel like he hadn't disappointed her or that he wasn't unworthy of her forgiveness.  

"Maybe if you'd hurry up and move to California like you keep saying," Ashley gives it right back, sticking her tongue out at our singer as he rolls his eyes. Her whole face lights up when she smiles, creating a beacon of light in the dreary winter rain.

Since when has Gerard talked about moving to California? He seems so content in Jersey, often talking about buying a home and settling down. We've discussed long term and what a life together would look like. California was never part of that plan. Gerard hates California, constantly complaining about the traffic and the people anytime we end up there for a show or video shoot. Another hard swig of coffee, the liquid getting caught in my throat, going down like a brick. Sputtering, I tip forward on my toes, fingertips brushing against Gerard's palm. He captures my hand in his, baggy jacket sleeves concealing the comforting touch. I hum, running my thumb over Gerard's smooth knuckles, little sparks of electricity bouncing between us.

"You know I love Jersey too much to ever leave," A quick squeeze of my hand, some kind of silent signal to tell me I've got nothing to worry about. Gerard isn't making secret plans behind my back, not trying to run off into the night and leave me behind. "You could always move back. That apartment you liked is up for sale again."

Ashley chuckles, pulling a cigarette packet out of her rain boot, offering one to Gerard as she lights her own. Blue eyes flick to meet mine, "Believe me, New Jersey does not want me back."