Beautifully Broken

Under the Gun

Frank

I know it's a bad decision the moment the words spill unceremoniously from my lips. His eyes narrow, eyebrows coming together to form a caterpillar across his face. Gerard's lips pull down into a harsh frown, hands finding their way to his hips as he stares through me. Devoid of the usual stomach craps and jittery electricity that usually accompanies my shitty decisions, I feel oddly naked. My words hang between us, waiting for Gerard to snap them up or shoot them down. I desperately wish I could snatch them back, shoving the ill-timed anger back down my throat. The fire growing behind Gerard's eyes, turning the honey colored irises a threatening black, says everything.

"You can't do this," Gerard growls back. "You can't demand that I chose. I shouldn't have to choose. This is my life, Frank. What were you expecting?"

Shaking my head, I let my gaze drop, no longer able to stomach the feelings that spring between us. I can't see him looking at me like this, "Yeah. Well. It's my life too! I guess I just thought all those things we said to each other meant something."

"Of course they mean something, Frankie!" Gerard throws his hand out, voice rising as he begins to pace up and down through the small space.

"Then why is this so hard?"

He's in my face now, my back pressed up against the bathroom door, "You know why it's so hard! You think I wanted this? I never meant for this to go as far as it did. We were having fun! Why can't you just leave it at that?"

"I don't know, Gerard. Maybe I'm tried of feeling like some dirty secret. Maybe I want to be able to tell my family that the amazing person I'm seeing is you! Maybe I need to know that when I wake up in the morning you're still going to be there."

His fist hits the door behind me, causing me to shrink away from him, "I don't want all that! I don't want to be gay! I don't want the whole band to revolve around our relationship. I don't want to have to answer all the questions. I don't want this!"

My heart stops, time slowing to a crawl. My brain tries desperately to come up with another meaning to his words. He's scared. Gerard's always been skeptical of what would become of the band if we were publically together. He worries. One spotlight is daunting; putting another on him just seems too big of a task right now. Yet, as his last words ring out again, reverberating through my ears, I know none of that is the truth. He doesn't want us.

"So that's it?" The words feel like razor blades coming up my throat, cutting across my tongue, leaving my lips raw and bleeding.

Gerard sighs, taking a step away from me, "Yeah. That's it."

I know it's a bad decision, but I can't leave well enough alone. If he can just feel what we still have. If we can just get that spark back. We've just confused everything. The stress of tour has gotten to us. That spark still has to be there. I just need to show him that I'm sorry. I never meant to give him an ultimatum. I don't want that. I want him; in any capacity I can have him. Even if it is just on stage, even if it is just an act. Maybe even if that last moment we have together isn't filled with hate and resentment, I can let it go.

Strolling across the stage, I hop up onto the speaker in front of Gerard. He ignores me, tugging the microphone from its stand. Sensing he's about to walk away, I launch myself at him, hands wrapping around his neck. Gerard drops the mic, pushing against my shoulders. We struggle, Gerard spinning, fighting off my attempt at a kiss. He shoves me back, my body hitting the stage and sliding away from him. This is worse than any fight. Everything falls away as I look up into the face of a man I love. He looks back with nothing but rage. My heart pounds in my ears as I gather myself, shoulder hunched as I make my way back to my spot. I can't be here. A water bottle explodes at my feet, Gerard sending a slew of curse words in my direction.