All My Favourite Colours

Chapter One

My footsteps echo as I pace the halls. It’s been three hours. Three fucking hours. My legs are tired and sore and there are seats but I don’t feel comfortable sitting. It’s sort of like an injustice; I get the comforts of sparsely padded chairs and consciousness while Mikey gets a steel table, sleeping gas and god know what else.

    Eight weeks ago he noticed all these pains and blood and mucus where it shouldn’t be. He was over at his friend’s and he felt really bad so we brought to the hospital and hasn’t left since. Bowel cancer.

     The door opens and several nurses stride out pushing a hospital bed with my brother lying on it.

     “Hey, you must be Gerard,” one crazy haired dude says walking over to me, “I’m Ray, one of Mikey’s nurses.” He smiles widely. I nod and he continues, “Anyway the treatment seemed to have worked pretty well this time and if he isn’t worse by the morning we’ll try again!” He smiles even wider. He looks kind of insane.

      “Uh, okay yea that’s great. Can I see him?” I say taking a step back from smiling Ray.

     “Yea sure but he’ll be out for another three hour at least. Follow me, we have him in a new room” Ray says gesturing me down the bright sterile hall. The place smells weird, like puke and bleach and detergent and bleach.

     Mikey’s new room is tiny and grey with a big window facing over the interstate. Charming.

     I sit down in the blue-grey armchair between Mikey and window. Only sitting here fiddling with the toy unicorn I brought did I realise there was another bed. A small body with black hair was curled up and snoring. Mikey would be sharing with a child I guess. It was getting really late and Mikey wasn’t waking anytime soon so I decided I’d rest my eyes, just for a while.

“Gee?” I darted awake, light filling my eyes and the fact that I’m somewhere new giving me a heart attack. All I could see was white and I thought I was dead or dying.

     My eyes focussed after a few seconds and I see my dorky little brother staring at me from his hospital bed. “Calm down Gee it’s alright I just wanted to know if you wanted coffee.” I nod and he tells a woman in blue that we both would love a cup of it.

     “You could have just, like, ordered me some and woken me gently then when it came. I never don’t want coffee,” I moan. Standing up straight I feel ridiculously stiff and sore from that fucking chair. “Here,” I hand him the unicorn, “I brought you this, Mrs Bryar knitted it or something, I don’t know”

     His whole face lights up and he grabs it out of my hands and hugs it smiling like an idiot.

     A laugh comes from the other side of the room. The kid was pushing himself upright in the bed. Okay, he couldn’t be a kid he has loads of tattoos, but he is really small. He looks about Mikey’s age.

     And is really handsome.

     “Uh sorry I didn’t mean to be rude just didn’t think I’d wake up to see a dude hugging a fucking unicorn,” the guy said. “Um I’m Frank… Hi…”

     “Hi,” Mikey says, “I’m Mikey and this is my brother Gerard…” The room is awkwardly silent until the woman comes in with the coffee.

      “Thanks,” Mikey says and passes me a cup. It tastes bad but hospital things always do.

     “So…” Frank says, “What are you in for”

     I laugh, “Sounds like he’s been jailed not in hospital.”

     Mikey rolls his eyes at me but he’s smiling so only kind of embarrassed by his lame ass brother. “Cancer, you?”

     “Cancer. Lung cancer actually, don’t smoke kids” Frank says scratching the back of his neck. His sleeve falls down revealing more tattoos. The dude’s got loads. Like a sleeve of them. I look at each one I can see individually before I realise I’m staring. Frank sees me staring too.

     “Shit sorry,” I mumble out, “Um, uh, you have cool uh tattoos…” Shit, shit, shit.

      He laughs, “it’s cool” and we go back into silence. After a while Frank speaks again, “You got any?”

      I laugh, “nope, no way. I mean they’re um cool on other people just not for me…” well that came out vaguely offensive…

      “Okay…” he says. More silence

      “Okay, well um I’m going to go to work I’ll come back to see you tonight or something, Mikey,” I say standing up.

     “They’re doing some scan things or something today,” he says about to stand up.

     I wave him down. “Rest for fuck sake, give ‘em hell kid later and text me how it goes.” I stumble over to the door saying my goodbyes and then stumble into the car park where I stumble into that Ray guy. “Uh sorry man,” I say.

     “Hey Gerard! It’s okay! How’s your brother?” He smiles widely. I take a second before answering him. My mind didn’t really process what he said as it was too busy marvelling at the dude’s hair. It looked big yesterday tied back but now… wow.

     “He seemed normal” I finally manage.

     “Good, good. Well see ya!” he beams and walks away. Morning people are weird.

     I drive home before work. I get decent coffee and have a smoke in my little shitty kitchen. I remember Frank and his “don’t smoke kids” comment and feel sort of wrong. Whatever.

     I decide I want a shower even though I’ll probably be late for work.

     I step in under the warm water and for a while I just stand there. My thoughts keep going to Frank and his tattoos. Just met the guy, don’t know anything about him and I’m already going hard for him in the shower. I laugh at myself then, realising how insane that is I just step out and dry myself, forcing thoughts if Frank out and refusing to acknowledge what under the towel thinks.

     I dress and smudge a layer of eyeliner on before driving to work. Bob is there at the counter of “Bryar’s Music Store” when I walk in. He’s scowling because he hates counter work, mornings and when I’m late. “Way, you’re fucking late again, I’ve had to deal with like four customers” he says looking as distressed as Bob can.

     “Sorry man I was at the hospital last night,” I say taking his place behind the counter. “They were doing this new radio therapy shit on Mikey last night. It’s experimental or something.”

     “How’d that go,” Bob asks walking off to put records in order in the back room.

     “Okay I think. I mean he wasn’t worse after it so that’s like a gigantic plus and it might help after another few goes… He loved the unicorn by the way,” I say.

     Bob remerges from the back covered in dust with a cd. “That’s good. I’ll tell my mother she’s worried about him. I am too though the dudr doesn’t deserve cancer… Now look at this. Look. Some idiot shoved a One Direction CD in not only the vinyl section but the metal vinyl section” and thus begins Bob’s “no appreciation for the sanctity of metal” rant for the day.