Inertia [1/14]
Gerard Way was jolted out of his pensive state by the abrupt halting of the subway car he was sitting in. He was very disoriented, as he never quite got the hang of the New York City subway system; despite all the times he used it to get around. There was something about being under the ground that prevented him from memorizing his well-traveled route. Perhaps it was because the subway completely lacked scenery of any kind; perhaps it was because all of the stops looked the same; perhaps it was because Gerard didn’t spend enough time with his head up to observe anything.
In any case, even if Gerard did not recognize it by sight, he did recognize the name of the stop the conductor was repeating. Gathering his messenger bag, notebook, and sketchpad, as well as pulling his coat around himself snugly, Gerard made his way over to the door and stepped off of the train.
To his relief, there were only a few people on the platform, so with very little difficulty, Gerard made his way across the threshold, his books tucked under his arm, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets, and his head bowed so that his unkempt dark hair fell over his eyes.
Gerard walked up the stairs briskly, feeling his messenger bag bounce on his thigh, until he was out of the subway terminal and on the level of the street. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and squinted into the darkness of the winter night. He always found it hard to adjust from the dusty light of the subway to the natural light (or lack thereof) of the outdoors.
Once his eyes adjusted and he oriented himself, Gerard began walking in the direction of his home-or at least, the place he laid his head down every night-with his eyes on the moon, which was full and luminescent. He had always liked full moons, but tonight it just reminded him of the passing of the months. These thoughts left him with a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he had swallowed a paperweight.
It was so cold outside that it was actually physically painful, and he knew he couldn’t take much more of it. He vaguely wondered what time it was, and considered calling home to get a ride, but he didn’t want to bother his roommate. So he walked briskly, watching as his breath formed in a cloud before his face every time he exhaled.
Finally, a sign that announced the name of his street loomed ahead of him, and Gerard walked halfway down the block until he was in front of his apartment building. He practically ran up the walkway, eager to get out of the cold, pushing through the door violently, and he instantly felt relief as the warm air began to soothe his cold, blotchy skin. He took the stairs to the third floor, figuring the exercise, however minimal, would help warm him up, and eventually found himself in front of room 3B. Gerard exhaled slowly and slid his key into the lock whilst turning the knob, making an attempt to be as quiet as possible. However, the instant he opened the door, he realized there was no need.
Gerard’s roommate, Kasper, was sitting on the couch watching television, but he instantly shut it off and looked up when Gerard entered the apartment.
Kasper was a tall, thin man with wavy hair that fell into his eyes more often than not. He dressed in solid colors, usually dark ones, but aside from that, nobody would have much of a reason to associate him with Gerard. Kasper didn’t look like he hung out with rock stars, perhaps because he didn’t, really. The two knew each other from working at a book store together when they were both still in college, and they weren’t really friends with the same circle of people. Gerard admired Kasper for not latching onto Gerard’s fame in order to draw attention to himself; he was a very honest, straightforward guy who was sincere about earning his own merit. Gerard was very thankful for this honesty, because at times like these when he was bone-tired and burnt out from thinking too much, Kasper was easy to have a conversation with.
“Hey,” he said, smiling. “There you are. I called you like, six times!”
Gerard blinked repeatedly, somewhat confused, and equally surprised that Kasper was there to greet him. “You did?” he asked absently, reaching into his jacket pocket for his cell phone, which informed him that he indeed had six missed calls.
“Yeah,” Kasper said, getting off the couch and walking towards him. “You’re such an idiot with that phone.” It was true; Gerard had never fully gotten the hang of his cell phone, and only used it when he really needed to.
“Anyway,” Kasper continued, tucking his brown hair behind an ear, “why the fuck did you walk home in the freezing cold? I could have gotten you.”
Gerard shrugged absently, raking a hand through his hair. “I figured you’d be out, or asleep or something,” he answered patiently, trying not to let his sour mood show through. He let his coat slide off his shoulders, and Kasper caught it before he could even make a move to. “Thanks,” Gerard said, smiling with his lips pressed together.
Kasper draped Gerard’s coat over one arm, and raised the other to touch Gerard’s cheek. Gerard flinched, but tried to cover it up by scratching his nose. Kasper frowned slightly and let his arm drop, resting his hand on Gerard’s shoulder instead of his cheek. “What’s wrong?” Kasper said suddenly, breaking the loaded silence.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Gerard asked, genuinely bemused. Kasper was suspicious about something, but Gerard didn’t feel like he was hiding anything. Well, nothing bad, and he wasn’t hiding it, per se.
Turning around and approaching the closet, Kasper frowned again, straightening out Gerard’s jacket and putting it on a flimsy-looking wire hanger. “You’re usually ecstatic, or at the very least excited when you come home,” he said flatly, “and today I feel like you’ve found out some really bad news, or something.” He put Gerard’s coat in the closet and turned back around to face him, his hands formed into fists, resting on his hips, in a fashion that reminded Gerard of his own mother.
Gerard felt oddly exposed and vulnerable standing in the middle of the room, holding nothing but his messenger bag, which he let fall to the floor. “Just don’t worry about it, okay?” he said, his voice taking a pleading tone. “I’m going to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.” It was a desperate move, but it was worth a try.
Kasper shook his head and shot Gerard The Look, which made Gerard freeze mid-step and hang his head. He lifted it a moment later, as he saw Kasper approaching in the corner of his eye. He realized that thinking Kasper was out or asleep had been wishful thinking on his part; somewhere in his mind, he had anticipated the barrage of questions. Sometimes Kasper was too good at reading him. Gerard clenched his eyes shut and waited.
He felt Kasper’s hands come to rest on his hips gently, and opened his eyes to look at the other man inquisitively. Kasper’s face was inches away from his own, and his blue eyes were flicking all over the place, as if he couldn’t quite decide which part of Gerard to look at. He finally settled on his face and smiled softly, then let his eyelids droop and leaned in to nuzzle Gerard’s neck.
Gerard flinched again but didn’t make any attempt to move away; instead, he tried to move his hands up from his sides smoothly, but failed, instead letting them shake clumsily as they came to rest on Kasper’s slim waist. Gerard shuddered as he felt Kasper’s eyelashes tickle the side of his neck, letting his eyes fall shut and trying to absorb the affection he was receiving. Kasper soon started gently kissing his neck, following his jaw line up until he reached the corner of his mouth. Gerard tried to turn away, but Kasper anticipated this move, and raised his hands to hold Gerard’s head still as he pressed their lips together.
Gerard gave into it quickly, figuring it was a good way to occupy Kasper’s mouth so he couldn’t ask any more questions, but soon he felt guilt and dread begin to bubble up in his stomach. When he felt Kasper ease him backwards until he was pushed up against a wall, followed by the sensation of Kasper’s warm hand gliding across the skin underneath his shirt, Gerard suddenly broke away forcefully. Kasper stepped back and held up his hands defensively, looking slightly affronted. It was silent for several moments; the only sound either of them could hear was the ticking of a clock on the wall behind Gerard.
“I’m sorry,” Gerard sighed finally, taking a step forward and once again letting his hand fall to Kasper’s waist. “I just need to tell you something, and I’m going to feel guilty until I do.” Gerard tilted his head up and made eye contact with Kasper. The other man was quite a few inches taller than he, and it was at moments like these that the difference in height put Gerard ill at ease.
Kasper’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Did you not just tell me not to worry about it?” His words had a sharp edge to them, but at the same time, he squeezed Gerard’s hand comfortingly, softening the blow.
“Yeah. But I think it’d be better if I get it out now, for both of us.” Gerard suddenly felt uncomfortable looking Kasper in the eye, so instead he stared at his right ear.
“All right, go ahead. Is everything okay?”
“I meant it when I told you not to worry,” Gerard assured him, returning the gentle squeeze his hand was getting. “It’s just… fuck… we really don’t get to spend enough time together.” Gerard met Kasper’s eyes again and smiled nervously. Kasper returned it reluctantly and motioned for him to continue. “And I know I told you I’d be staying here until March. But there’s been a change of plans.” Gerard deliberately left out that one of the reasons for said change in plans was his anxiety, which increased every time he saw a flock of teenagers nearing him.
Kasper was still looking at Gerard intently, waiting for him to elaborate. Gerard sighed heavily and stared down at his and Kasper’s joined hands. “We’re leaving for LA on Tuesday,” he said quietly.
Kasper groaned, dropping Gerard’s hand. “Are you serious? That soon?” Gerard nodded, pushing his hair back, slightly relieved by the response. “Well, I can’t honestly say I didn’t see it coming. I don’t know why you were so worried about my reaction. You underestimate me, Gerard.” His hand moved to caress Gerard’s cheek again.
“How long have we known each other? Six years?” Kasper continued, looking skyward as he attempted to recall the information. “That’s somewhat of a fucking long time. And didn’t you make it abundantly clear to me when you first started touring that your music would always come first?” Gerard nodded, leaning into Kasper’s touch. “You make it sound like I have you on a really short leash, but you know that’s not the case. So you go do whatever you have to do, and I’ll always be here, whenever you decide to come back.”
Gerard smiled sadly at the comforting words and pulled Kasper closer to him, tucking his face between Kasper’s neck and shoulder. Kasper returned the embrace, rubbing Gerard’s back.
“Now,” Kasper whispered in his ear, “I think we should make the most of the time we have left.” Gerard sighed happily as he felt Kasper’s hands slide under his shirt, and he let the sensations take over his consciousness, pushing his worry to the back of his mind. He didn’t know why, but for some reason, despite the good way things were going, Gerard sensed impending tragedy in the pit of his stomach.
[//]
The next morning, when Gerard woke up, he found himself extremely disoriented. He could tell by the position his body was in that he wasn’t in his bed, or anybody’s bed, for that matter. He kept his eyes shut, not quite wanting to return to consciousness yet, and becoming more and more aware of his surroundings as his nerves woke up. His leg twitched slightly and he realized it was half hanging off whatever it was that he was laying on; he flexed the fingers of his right hand and found that it was underneath his hip; he straightened his back and became aware of the warm weight pressed up against it.
Gerard yawned, lifting his left hand to his face and lazily rubbing his eyes, opening them slowly a moment later.
He was in the living room of the apartment, draped haphazardly over the couch. Gerard squinted at the glowing numbers on the cable box, which told him that it was a little after seven in the morning. He groaned, knowing full well that he had to get up and head over to the subway station in order to get to the studio on time, but enjoying the comforting heat of Kasper’s bare skin in contact with his own. The other man was practically wrapped around him, his arm draped over Gerard’s chest, one of his legs weighing down both of Gerard’s, and his face nestled into Gerard’s neck, so that his breath tickled Gerard’s shoulder whenever he exhaled.
If he got up, he’d wake up Kasper, Gerard reasoned, but after a few minutes of relaxing to the sound of Kasper’s even breathing, Gerard decided it was time to move. He knew Kasper needed to get going, too; he was an intern at a magazine and had to be in Long Island by nine.
Gerard shifted slightly, causing Kasper to stir sleepily, but not quite waking him up. Gerard reached behind himself and rested his hand on Kasper’s hip, shaking him gently. Kasper made a vague noise and stirred again, this time his hair tickling Gerard’s neck as he lifted his head.
“Good morning,” Gerard said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. Kasper sat up awkwardly, swinging both of his legs over Gerard’s, and clumsily rocking forward in an attempt to get his feet on the floor. Gerard laughed and pulled his own legs up, allowing Kasper to slide forward and onto his feet.
Kasper stood and stretched luxuriously, smiling at Gerard, who was now hauling himself to a standing position. “Good morning,” Kasper replied, his long, tapered fingers encircling Gerard’s wrists, pulling him close for a kiss. Gerard smiled against Kasper’s mouth, feeling comfort and relief pump through his bloodstream. He had been starting to feel like his relationship with Kasper was steeply going downhill; they were rarely home at the same time, and when they were, they were both usually so tired from their respective jobs that they barely communicated. In fact, Gerard was pretty sure that the night before was the first time they had been intimate since the end of their vacation in Japan the previous month.
When Kasper pulled away, he peered over Gerard’s shoulder at the clock. “Fuck,” he groaned, letting his hands drop to his sides. “I’m guessing we don’t have time for another go?”
Gerard laughed and shook his head. “We’ve both got to get out of here. Coffee?”
Kasper nodded, beginning to gather their discarded clothing from the night before.
[//]
It was eight o’clock by the time they both had coffee and showered, and Gerard was busy digging through one of the smaller pockets of his messenger bag to see if he had his keys, one foot already out the door.
“Hey, wait,” Kasper called from their bedroom, his voice slightly muffled behind the closed door. “I’ll drive you!”
Gerard paused, feeling the cold sharpness of his keys as his hand finally closed over them in his coat pocket. “You’re crazy,” he called back, turning around to face Kasper, who was now walking into the living room. “You’ll be so late if you do that.”
Kasper shrugged. “I can afford to be late every once in a while.” When Gerard just raised an eyebrow at him, he backed down. “Fine, sorry, just trying to do you a favor. At least let me drive you to the station? I don’t think I have to remind you how fucking cold it is outside.” Kasper pulled on his gloves and shoved his wallet into his coat pocket.
Gerard sighed, looking at the clock. “Alright,” he conceded, stepping into the hallway and waiting for Kasper to pass so he could lock the door.
They walked to the car in silence, with their arms wrapped around themselves in an attempt to stay warm. During the winter, Gerard always hated the first few minutes he spent outdoors every day; his body was still sluggish from sleep, to the point where the cold was enough to make him want to crawl back to bed.
When they reached Kasper’s small, beat-up car, he first walked around to the passenger’s side to unlock the door for Gerard, holding it open as he got in, and closing it softly afterwards.
Gerard smiled to himself, trying to get his stiff, numb fingers to cooperate as he buckled himself in. he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty; Kasper was doing so much for him: letting Gerard stay in his apartment, putting up with his bullshit, tolerating the lies that Gerard spread about fake girlfriends, driving him places-and all he got in return was the promise of being left all by himself in less than a week, plus the occasional fuck.
It was this sort of thing that made him want to live a more “normal” life, Gerard thought as he watched Kasper hurriedly slam the door and frantically attempt to shove his key into the ignition so the heat would start up. Things were so much more complicated when everyone knew who you were, because if you failed it was a public failure, and instead of just letting yourself down, you let millions of people down.
Kasper let the car sit for a few minutes as it slowly reached a bearable temperature, his hands tucked under his arms, his shoulders hunched, and his thighs pressed together tightly, as if he were trying to trap the heat between the different surfaces of his body. Gerard preferred to sit as still as possible, trying not to focus on being cold.
Gerard lifted one of his hands to the other man’s face, causing him to start slightly at the unanticipated cold touch. Kasper turned towards Gerard so that they were looking at each other, and Gerard let his hand follow the movement. Gerard smiled in a way that he hoped appeared grateful, and leaned over the stick shift to kiss Kasper.
It was a strange feeling, kissing in the numbing cold; Kasper’s lips were freezing, but the heat from inside his mouth could be felt from beneath the surface, almost seeming to entice Gerard to pry further. But he didn’t, pulling away after a few moments, leaving a pleasant springy feeling in his stomach, which he found strange; he usually only got that feeling upon kissing someone for the first time.
Kasper let his eyes linger on Gerard for a moment, smiling absently, before turning forward, shifting into drive, and pulling out of the parking spot.
The ride to the train station was brief, silent, and, for Gerard, painful. With every revolution of the wheels, Gerard felt as if he were getting closer to some sort of equally inevitable and unpleasant fate. There was something about working on a new album… for some, it was exciting, and refreshing, and relieving, but for Gerard, it was like sifting through his nightmares, looking for something even more terrifying. Sometimes he’d dig up something that he was sure wasn’t there in the first place, and he’d be forced to turn a blind eye to the mystery, because he knew he didn’t want to know.
So every day, after writing and singing his heart out, he was left with nothing to pump the blood through his body. And he liked his heart where it belonged very much, thank you.
In essence, it was very easy to forget why he did this in the first place, and even easier to get distracted by something more favorable, which was why they had all made the decision to finish writing the album in LA. Gerard felt the need to seclude himself from the rest of the world, in hopes of speeding up the writing process. Once it was all out, he could get back to the fun stuff, and away from this crazy shit that made him wonder, in all seriousness, if he could really be considered sane.
Gerard squeezed his eyes shut tightly and shook his head, in an attempt to continue occupying the practical part of his brain. A quick glance out the window informed him that they were a block away from the train station, and were slowing to a stop at a red light at the moment.
“What time does your train come?” Kasper asked, casting a quick look at the clock on the dashboard.
“A quarter to nine,” Gerard replied, realizing he had some time to kill before catching the subway.
Kasper propped his elbow against the car door and leaned on his hand, looking out the window. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you into the city? You’ll be waiting in the cold for a fucking long time.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Gerard said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. He cast a look around, eyeing a small coffee shop across the street from the terminal. “Look, I’ll wait in there,” he said, pointing at the café.
“Alright, but I’m telling you, you don’t need any more caffeine. You’re already fucking crazy.” The light turned green, and Kasper pulled right up to the café.
Gerard laughed appreciatively. “Fuck you and your suggestions,” he said lightly, opening his door and leaning over to give Kasper one last parting kiss.
Kasper smiled and shook his head, amused. “I love you, too.”
After taking care not to slam the door and waving, Gerard hitched his bag higher up on his shoulder and proceeded into the small café.
The door made a noise of protest as Gerard pushed it open, but he barely registered it as he was hit by some wonderfully hot air. He let the door creak shut behind him, stepping into the shop and taking in the comforting atmosphere.
It was tiny and almost empty; there were about ten small tables, each with two chairs, one of which was being occupied by a middle-aged man with a bristly moustache, who was sipping a shot of espresso and reading The New York Times. The place had a comforting brown and beige color scheme, and had fluorescent light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. Despite the fact that it was almost impossibly warm, Gerard kept his hat and scarf on by force of habit; he was never prepared for being recognized on the street while off tour.
Gerard approached the glass counter, which displayed all different types of confections, his nose picking up the distinct smell of fresh muffins and coffee beans. There was a single employee standing behind the counter, clad in beige shirt and brown apron, and she looked up from the book she was reading as Gerard approached.
“Good morning, what can I get for you?” she asked politely as Gerard reached the counter. Her short brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, so Gerard noticed the small studs in her earlobes. There were several puncture marks, both in her ears and nose, which suggested she was pierced multiple times, but had removed them, perhaps for her job. She appeared to be teenaged (which made Gerard a little uncomfortable), and modestly pretty, despite the fact that she wasn’t wearing any makeup.
“Just a cup of coffee, and…” Gerard paused, looking down into the glass counter, “and a blueberry muffin, please.”
“Can do,” the girl said, reaching into the case and picking up a muffin with a hand covered by a plastic glove. “Would you like it toasted?” She looked Gerard in the eye and appeared to falter for a moment, her brown eyes going for a little too long without blinking.
“Sure, if it’s not too much trouble,” he responded, pulling at his scarf nervously.
The girl was still looking at him oddly, but snapped out of it after a moment, nodding and reaching for a knife to cut the muffin in half. “You can have a seat if you like,” she said. “I’ll bring it to you when it’s done.”
“Thanks,” Gerard said, choosing the table in the corner furthest from the window. He set his bag on the floor and pulled out his sketchpad, choosing to work on a drawing of a bare tree he had started a few days earlier. It was almost done; he just wanted to add some details.
He vaguely registered the sound of his coffee being poured, and the creak of the door as the other customer in the shop left.
A few minutes later, the girl walked over to him, balancing a white porcelain mug, a muffin on a plate, and a bowl of pre-packaged cream and sugar on a small tray. She set it down in front of him, taking care not to bump his sketchpad, and Gerard’s eyes followed her hand as she reached into the pocket of her apron for napkins. Gerard realized with a jolt that she had a My Chemical Romance button pinned to said pocket, which he couldn’t see before because of the counter, and he had a moment of irrationality in which he considered leaving without another word. Instead, he took it as a personal challenge.
“Aren’t you a little young to be working at this time of the morning?” he asked suddenly, setting down his pencil and tilting his head up, looking at her.
The girl laughed. “I’m older than I look, but not by much. Freshman in college, part time,” she offered, smiling amusedly so that her large white teeth showed prominently.
“Ah, well that explains it. I placed you to be about seventeen, I wasn’t too far off.” Gerard cursed himself mentally; he had wanted to bring up her button, but had chosen the wrong place to start the conversation from. He used to live for fan encounters before the band got popular; it was so personal, and it gave him an overwhelming sense of purpose. Nowadays, it was very rare to be able to have a real conversation with a fan, and he had the perfect opportunity right here. The hardest part was going to be letting her know who he was; he wasn’t about to rip off his excess clothing like Clark Kent turning into Superman, and it would sound far too conceited to blurt out, “Do you know who I am?”
Gerard realized that, despite the long stretch of silence, the girl was still standing there, with the thoughtful look back on her face. Just as Gerard opened his mouth to say something (what, he wasn’t sure), the girl did the same.
“You-oh, I’m sorry, go ahead,” she said, her face coloring slightly.
“No, it’s nothing,” he said, waving her off. “You go ahead.”
“Um, alright,” she said awkwardly, her eyes darting everywhere but Gerard’s face. “This is going to sound incredibly dumb, but you seem really familiar.” There was a hint of panic in her voice, and Gerard instantly felt bad for deceiving her, even if it was unintentional.
“The beauty that I’m faking lets me live my life like this,” Gerard muttered under his breath, ripping open a sugar packet with shaky hands and dumping its contents into his coffee.
“What?” the girl said, but judging by the shocked expression on her face, and the fact that she practically collapsed into the chair across from Gerard, she had heard him perfectly.
“Uh, nothing,” he said carefully. “What I mean to say is, it may have something to do with that button on your apron, and fuck, I’m no good at this-pardon my language.” Gerard’s words came out in a resigned rush, and the next thing he knew, he was becoming Superman, and wishing for a telephone booth to ease the transformation.
His hat and scarf fell to the floor, and he shook his hair out and smiled, sticking his hand out because he really didn’t know what the fuck else to do. “Hi, my name’s Gerard, what’s yours?”
The girl seemed to freeze, and frankly, Gerard didn’t blame her one bit. After a moment, she cracked a huge smile, and shook his hand. “Audrey. The idiot. I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry for bothering you.”
Gerard released her hand and smiled. “Don’t be,” he said firmly, looking her right in the eye. “If I didn’t want you to know who I am, I would have just pretended you were crazy and blown you off.”
Audrey nodded, and Gerard could see the different emotions flashing across her face as she digested the information she was getting. “I’m sorry,” she said again, now blushing furiously, “I acted like such an idiot, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away, I mean, you were talking to me in your normal voice and everything and I think I should know what it sounds like by now, and…” her voice trailed off as she realized she was rambling, and she abruptly shut her mouth, looking at him sheepishly. Gerard knew that, when dealing with a fan, the most important thing was listening to them, because it was basically all he could do. After all, they spent so much time listening to him, so he definitely owed each and every one of them something in return.
“How do I say this without sounding like a stuck-up asshole?” he started, and Audrey laughed skittishly. “You probably don’t get many incognito popular musicians walking in here, am I right? Wow, that still sounded stuck-up,” he finished, adding the last part as a side note.
Audrey laughed. “No, I don’t,” she said, seeming to relax a little bit. It was quiet for a few moments, and Gerard could almost see the questions begin to form in Audrey’s head. “So… what are you doing in the suburbs of Queens? Are the other guys with you?” She instantly craned her neck and turned around, looking out the window, as if she expected to see one of his band mates walking past the little café.
“I live here when we’re not on tour, with my girlfriend,” Gerard explained (telling the white lie effortlessly after years of practice, although he could have sworn he saw the corner of Audrey’s of mouth twitch slightly at the word), taking a sip of his coffee, which was strong to his liking. “The others are living here and there, or crashing at each other’s places. We all commute to the city every day… we’re working on the next album.”
Audrey nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I heard about that.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and rubbing them with the thumb and forefinger of her left hand. “Oh my God,” she muttered, covering her face with her hands. “I feel like there’s something I’m supposed to say to you, but now that I can say it, I can’t remember any of it.”
Gerard smiled, now taking a bite out of his muffin. “That usually happens. It’s happened to me a few times, when I met someone I admired. And there I go, sounding conceited again.” He smacked his forehead lightly and wiped his hands on a napkin, returning to his coffee and absently fiddling with an empty sugar packet.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Audrey continued to mutter, casting a look at the door, perhaps to see if any customers were approaching. “Listen,” she said, her voice soft, as if she didn’t want him to hear. Gerard sensed the urgency in her voice and set his cup down, looking her right in the eye and tilting his head to the side, to communicate that he was listening. “I’ve been to a lot of your shows… you probably don’t remember, but the one last October, when you came to the area? I was there, and after the show, I always want to thank you, but it’s impossible to be heard in that mess, so basically, um.” She was picking at her chipping nail polish nervously, but not taking her eyes off Gerard for one second. “I want to say thank you. And I hope you understand how much you guys mean to me, really. I don’t have some heart-breaking tale of an abusive father that involves drugs and razors or anything like that, but you saved me in a different kind of way. And thank you. Really.”
Gerard felt his heart swell. Knowing that he was making some sort of difference always lifted him up in this amazing, intoxicating way, and it was his favorite natural high by far. This was the whole reason he started to play music, and whenever he was feeling down about it, all he really needed was to hear someone pour their heart out like this, and he fucking remembered why he bothered.
He smiled warmly at her, his eyes even tearing up slightly, and he felt like a fucking idiot (he was a grown man, for Chrissake), but the look on her face was enough to make him forget that. “Thank you,” he said, reaching across the table and taking her hand in his. She blushed and twitched slightly, but eventually relaxed into his hold. He looked her right in the eyes, and made his expression as sincere and serious as possible. “If it wasn’t for you, and people like you, I’d be six feet under the ground by now. And I’m gonna be honest with you, I was in a real shitty, depressed mood about what I have to do today before you told me that, and now I feel so much better, you have no idea.”
Audrey had tears in her eyes too at this point, and Gerard saw her try to speak, but she choked and just nodded, gripping his hand tightly.
At that moment, Gerard caught a look at the clock. “Oh shit, I have a train to catch!” he yelped, grabbing for his sketchpad. Audrey let go of his hand reluctantly.
“Sorry for keeping you,” she muttered, trying to be discreet about wiping the tears from her eyes.
“Stop apologizing,” he snapped playfully, pausing as he was about to close his sketchpad. He peered at the drawing for a moment, thinking. After a few seconds, he made his decision, and ripped it out of the book. He dug through his bag for a moment and withdrew a sharpie, and quickly signed the drawing, handing it over to Audrey. “Here,” he said, smiling at the shocked look on her face. “I want you to have it.”
She looked at it, reading what he wrote silently.
"To Audrey-
Thanks for making my day. I'm sure I'll see you again soon!
xoxo g."
“Wow… thank you for making my life,” she said, cracking a smile.
Gerard smiled back warmly, and then smacked his forehead (again) and dug through his pocket, withdrawing a ten-dollar bill. “I almost forgot to pay.”
“Oh!” Audrey said, smiling again. “I almost forgot to ask you to. Hold on, let me get your change.”
“No, keep the change, I have no time,” he insisted, although that wasn’t the real reason.
He gathered his things and started to make his way out the door. “It was so nice meeting you!” he said, but just as he was about to leave, she stopped him.
“Wait!” she called, stepping towards him. When he turned around, she flung her arms around him, still clutching the drawing he gave her. He smiled, amazed at how good this girl was making him feel, and returned the embrace with just as much passion. “Bye,” she said softly, pulling away after a few drawn out moments.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, and left the shop with a smile on his face, not caring if the passerby thought he was completely bonkers.
[//]
Chapter Two
In any case, even if Gerard did not recognize it by sight, he did recognize the name of the stop the conductor was repeating. Gathering his messenger bag, notebook, and sketchpad, as well as pulling his coat around himself snugly, Gerard made his way over to the door and stepped off of the train.
To his relief, there were only a few people on the platform, so with very little difficulty, Gerard made his way across the threshold, his books tucked under his arm, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets, and his head bowed so that his unkempt dark hair fell over his eyes.
Gerard walked up the stairs briskly, feeling his messenger bag bounce on his thigh, until he was out of the subway terminal and on the level of the street. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and squinted into the darkness of the winter night. He always found it hard to adjust from the dusty light of the subway to the natural light (or lack thereof) of the outdoors.
Once his eyes adjusted and he oriented himself, Gerard began walking in the direction of his home-or at least, the place he laid his head down every night-with his eyes on the moon, which was full and luminescent. He had always liked full moons, but tonight it just reminded him of the passing of the months. These thoughts left him with a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he had swallowed a paperweight.
It was so cold outside that it was actually physically painful, and he knew he couldn’t take much more of it. He vaguely wondered what time it was, and considered calling home to get a ride, but he didn’t want to bother his roommate. So he walked briskly, watching as his breath formed in a cloud before his face every time he exhaled.
Finally, a sign that announced the name of his street loomed ahead of him, and Gerard walked halfway down the block until he was in front of his apartment building. He practically ran up the walkway, eager to get out of the cold, pushing through the door violently, and he instantly felt relief as the warm air began to soothe his cold, blotchy skin. He took the stairs to the third floor, figuring the exercise, however minimal, would help warm him up, and eventually found himself in front of room 3B. Gerard exhaled slowly and slid his key into the lock whilst turning the knob, making an attempt to be as quiet as possible. However, the instant he opened the door, he realized there was no need.
Gerard’s roommate, Kasper, was sitting on the couch watching television, but he instantly shut it off and looked up when Gerard entered the apartment.
Kasper was a tall, thin man with wavy hair that fell into his eyes more often than not. He dressed in solid colors, usually dark ones, but aside from that, nobody would have much of a reason to associate him with Gerard. Kasper didn’t look like he hung out with rock stars, perhaps because he didn’t, really. The two knew each other from working at a book store together when they were both still in college, and they weren’t really friends with the same circle of people. Gerard admired Kasper for not latching onto Gerard’s fame in order to draw attention to himself; he was a very honest, straightforward guy who was sincere about earning his own merit. Gerard was very thankful for this honesty, because at times like these when he was bone-tired and burnt out from thinking too much, Kasper was easy to have a conversation with.
“Hey,” he said, smiling. “There you are. I called you like, six times!”
Gerard blinked repeatedly, somewhat confused, and equally surprised that Kasper was there to greet him. “You did?” he asked absently, reaching into his jacket pocket for his cell phone, which informed him that he indeed had six missed calls.
“Yeah,” Kasper said, getting off the couch and walking towards him. “You’re such an idiot with that phone.” It was true; Gerard had never fully gotten the hang of his cell phone, and only used it when he really needed to.
“Anyway,” Kasper continued, tucking his brown hair behind an ear, “why the fuck did you walk home in the freezing cold? I could have gotten you.”
Gerard shrugged absently, raking a hand through his hair. “I figured you’d be out, or asleep or something,” he answered patiently, trying not to let his sour mood show through. He let his coat slide off his shoulders, and Kasper caught it before he could even make a move to. “Thanks,” Gerard said, smiling with his lips pressed together.
Kasper draped Gerard’s coat over one arm, and raised the other to touch Gerard’s cheek. Gerard flinched, but tried to cover it up by scratching his nose. Kasper frowned slightly and let his arm drop, resting his hand on Gerard’s shoulder instead of his cheek. “What’s wrong?” Kasper said suddenly, breaking the loaded silence.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Gerard asked, genuinely bemused. Kasper was suspicious about something, but Gerard didn’t feel like he was hiding anything. Well, nothing bad, and he wasn’t hiding it, per se.
Turning around and approaching the closet, Kasper frowned again, straightening out Gerard’s jacket and putting it on a flimsy-looking wire hanger. “You’re usually ecstatic, or at the very least excited when you come home,” he said flatly, “and today I feel like you’ve found out some really bad news, or something.” He put Gerard’s coat in the closet and turned back around to face him, his hands formed into fists, resting on his hips, in a fashion that reminded Gerard of his own mother.
Gerard felt oddly exposed and vulnerable standing in the middle of the room, holding nothing but his messenger bag, which he let fall to the floor. “Just don’t worry about it, okay?” he said, his voice taking a pleading tone. “I’m going to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.” It was a desperate move, but it was worth a try.
Kasper shook his head and shot Gerard The Look, which made Gerard freeze mid-step and hang his head. He lifted it a moment later, as he saw Kasper approaching in the corner of his eye. He realized that thinking Kasper was out or asleep had been wishful thinking on his part; somewhere in his mind, he had anticipated the barrage of questions. Sometimes Kasper was too good at reading him. Gerard clenched his eyes shut and waited.
He felt Kasper’s hands come to rest on his hips gently, and opened his eyes to look at the other man inquisitively. Kasper’s face was inches away from his own, and his blue eyes were flicking all over the place, as if he couldn’t quite decide which part of Gerard to look at. He finally settled on his face and smiled softly, then let his eyelids droop and leaned in to nuzzle Gerard’s neck.
Gerard flinched again but didn’t make any attempt to move away; instead, he tried to move his hands up from his sides smoothly, but failed, instead letting them shake clumsily as they came to rest on Kasper’s slim waist. Gerard shuddered as he felt Kasper’s eyelashes tickle the side of his neck, letting his eyes fall shut and trying to absorb the affection he was receiving. Kasper soon started gently kissing his neck, following his jaw line up until he reached the corner of his mouth. Gerard tried to turn away, but Kasper anticipated this move, and raised his hands to hold Gerard’s head still as he pressed their lips together.
Gerard gave into it quickly, figuring it was a good way to occupy Kasper’s mouth so he couldn’t ask any more questions, but soon he felt guilt and dread begin to bubble up in his stomach. When he felt Kasper ease him backwards until he was pushed up against a wall, followed by the sensation of Kasper’s warm hand gliding across the skin underneath his shirt, Gerard suddenly broke away forcefully. Kasper stepped back and held up his hands defensively, looking slightly affronted. It was silent for several moments; the only sound either of them could hear was the ticking of a clock on the wall behind Gerard.
“I’m sorry,” Gerard sighed finally, taking a step forward and once again letting his hand fall to Kasper’s waist. “I just need to tell you something, and I’m going to feel guilty until I do.” Gerard tilted his head up and made eye contact with Kasper. The other man was quite a few inches taller than he, and it was at moments like these that the difference in height put Gerard ill at ease.
Kasper’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Did you not just tell me not to worry about it?” His words had a sharp edge to them, but at the same time, he squeezed Gerard’s hand comfortingly, softening the blow.
“Yeah. But I think it’d be better if I get it out now, for both of us.” Gerard suddenly felt uncomfortable looking Kasper in the eye, so instead he stared at his right ear.
“All right, go ahead. Is everything okay?”
“I meant it when I told you not to worry,” Gerard assured him, returning the gentle squeeze his hand was getting. “It’s just… fuck… we really don’t get to spend enough time together.” Gerard met Kasper’s eyes again and smiled nervously. Kasper returned it reluctantly and motioned for him to continue. “And I know I told you I’d be staying here until March. But there’s been a change of plans.” Gerard deliberately left out that one of the reasons for said change in plans was his anxiety, which increased every time he saw a flock of teenagers nearing him.
Kasper was still looking at Gerard intently, waiting for him to elaborate. Gerard sighed heavily and stared down at his and Kasper’s joined hands. “We’re leaving for LA on Tuesday,” he said quietly.
Kasper groaned, dropping Gerard’s hand. “Are you serious? That soon?” Gerard nodded, pushing his hair back, slightly relieved by the response. “Well, I can’t honestly say I didn’t see it coming. I don’t know why you were so worried about my reaction. You underestimate me, Gerard.” His hand moved to caress Gerard’s cheek again.
“How long have we known each other? Six years?” Kasper continued, looking skyward as he attempted to recall the information. “That’s somewhat of a fucking long time. And didn’t you make it abundantly clear to me when you first started touring that your music would always come first?” Gerard nodded, leaning into Kasper’s touch. “You make it sound like I have you on a really short leash, but you know that’s not the case. So you go do whatever you have to do, and I’ll always be here, whenever you decide to come back.”
Gerard smiled sadly at the comforting words and pulled Kasper closer to him, tucking his face between Kasper’s neck and shoulder. Kasper returned the embrace, rubbing Gerard’s back.
“Now,” Kasper whispered in his ear, “I think we should make the most of the time we have left.” Gerard sighed happily as he felt Kasper’s hands slide under his shirt, and he let the sensations take over his consciousness, pushing his worry to the back of his mind. He didn’t know why, but for some reason, despite the good way things were going, Gerard sensed impending tragedy in the pit of his stomach.
[//]
The next morning, when Gerard woke up, he found himself extremely disoriented. He could tell by the position his body was in that he wasn’t in his bed, or anybody’s bed, for that matter. He kept his eyes shut, not quite wanting to return to consciousness yet, and becoming more and more aware of his surroundings as his nerves woke up. His leg twitched slightly and he realized it was half hanging off whatever it was that he was laying on; he flexed the fingers of his right hand and found that it was underneath his hip; he straightened his back and became aware of the warm weight pressed up against it.
Gerard yawned, lifting his left hand to his face and lazily rubbing his eyes, opening them slowly a moment later.
He was in the living room of the apartment, draped haphazardly over the couch. Gerard squinted at the glowing numbers on the cable box, which told him that it was a little after seven in the morning. He groaned, knowing full well that he had to get up and head over to the subway station in order to get to the studio on time, but enjoying the comforting heat of Kasper’s bare skin in contact with his own. The other man was practically wrapped around him, his arm draped over Gerard’s chest, one of his legs weighing down both of Gerard’s, and his face nestled into Gerard’s neck, so that his breath tickled Gerard’s shoulder whenever he exhaled.
If he got up, he’d wake up Kasper, Gerard reasoned, but after a few minutes of relaxing to the sound of Kasper’s even breathing, Gerard decided it was time to move. He knew Kasper needed to get going, too; he was an intern at a magazine and had to be in Long Island by nine.
Gerard shifted slightly, causing Kasper to stir sleepily, but not quite waking him up. Gerard reached behind himself and rested his hand on Kasper’s hip, shaking him gently. Kasper made a vague noise and stirred again, this time his hair tickling Gerard’s neck as he lifted his head.
“Good morning,” Gerard said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. Kasper sat up awkwardly, swinging both of his legs over Gerard’s, and clumsily rocking forward in an attempt to get his feet on the floor. Gerard laughed and pulled his own legs up, allowing Kasper to slide forward and onto his feet.
Kasper stood and stretched luxuriously, smiling at Gerard, who was now hauling himself to a standing position. “Good morning,” Kasper replied, his long, tapered fingers encircling Gerard’s wrists, pulling him close for a kiss. Gerard smiled against Kasper’s mouth, feeling comfort and relief pump through his bloodstream. He had been starting to feel like his relationship with Kasper was steeply going downhill; they were rarely home at the same time, and when they were, they were both usually so tired from their respective jobs that they barely communicated. In fact, Gerard was pretty sure that the night before was the first time they had been intimate since the end of their vacation in Japan the previous month.
When Kasper pulled away, he peered over Gerard’s shoulder at the clock. “Fuck,” he groaned, letting his hands drop to his sides. “I’m guessing we don’t have time for another go?”
Gerard laughed and shook his head. “We’ve both got to get out of here. Coffee?”
Kasper nodded, beginning to gather their discarded clothing from the night before.
[//]
It was eight o’clock by the time they both had coffee and showered, and Gerard was busy digging through one of the smaller pockets of his messenger bag to see if he had his keys, one foot already out the door.
“Hey, wait,” Kasper called from their bedroom, his voice slightly muffled behind the closed door. “I’ll drive you!”
Gerard paused, feeling the cold sharpness of his keys as his hand finally closed over them in his coat pocket. “You’re crazy,” he called back, turning around to face Kasper, who was now walking into the living room. “You’ll be so late if you do that.”
Kasper shrugged. “I can afford to be late every once in a while.” When Gerard just raised an eyebrow at him, he backed down. “Fine, sorry, just trying to do you a favor. At least let me drive you to the station? I don’t think I have to remind you how fucking cold it is outside.” Kasper pulled on his gloves and shoved his wallet into his coat pocket.
Gerard sighed, looking at the clock. “Alright,” he conceded, stepping into the hallway and waiting for Kasper to pass so he could lock the door.
They walked to the car in silence, with their arms wrapped around themselves in an attempt to stay warm. During the winter, Gerard always hated the first few minutes he spent outdoors every day; his body was still sluggish from sleep, to the point where the cold was enough to make him want to crawl back to bed.
When they reached Kasper’s small, beat-up car, he first walked around to the passenger’s side to unlock the door for Gerard, holding it open as he got in, and closing it softly afterwards.
Gerard smiled to himself, trying to get his stiff, numb fingers to cooperate as he buckled himself in. he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty; Kasper was doing so much for him: letting Gerard stay in his apartment, putting up with his bullshit, tolerating the lies that Gerard spread about fake girlfriends, driving him places-and all he got in return was the promise of being left all by himself in less than a week, plus the occasional fuck.
It was this sort of thing that made him want to live a more “normal” life, Gerard thought as he watched Kasper hurriedly slam the door and frantically attempt to shove his key into the ignition so the heat would start up. Things were so much more complicated when everyone knew who you were, because if you failed it was a public failure, and instead of just letting yourself down, you let millions of people down.
Kasper let the car sit for a few minutes as it slowly reached a bearable temperature, his hands tucked under his arms, his shoulders hunched, and his thighs pressed together tightly, as if he were trying to trap the heat between the different surfaces of his body. Gerard preferred to sit as still as possible, trying not to focus on being cold.
Gerard lifted one of his hands to the other man’s face, causing him to start slightly at the unanticipated cold touch. Kasper turned towards Gerard so that they were looking at each other, and Gerard let his hand follow the movement. Gerard smiled in a way that he hoped appeared grateful, and leaned over the stick shift to kiss Kasper.
It was a strange feeling, kissing in the numbing cold; Kasper’s lips were freezing, but the heat from inside his mouth could be felt from beneath the surface, almost seeming to entice Gerard to pry further. But he didn’t, pulling away after a few moments, leaving a pleasant springy feeling in his stomach, which he found strange; he usually only got that feeling upon kissing someone for the first time.
Kasper let his eyes linger on Gerard for a moment, smiling absently, before turning forward, shifting into drive, and pulling out of the parking spot.
The ride to the train station was brief, silent, and, for Gerard, painful. With every revolution of the wheels, Gerard felt as if he were getting closer to some sort of equally inevitable and unpleasant fate. There was something about working on a new album… for some, it was exciting, and refreshing, and relieving, but for Gerard, it was like sifting through his nightmares, looking for something even more terrifying. Sometimes he’d dig up something that he was sure wasn’t there in the first place, and he’d be forced to turn a blind eye to the mystery, because he knew he didn’t want to know.
So every day, after writing and singing his heart out, he was left with nothing to pump the blood through his body. And he liked his heart where it belonged very much, thank you.
In essence, it was very easy to forget why he did this in the first place, and even easier to get distracted by something more favorable, which was why they had all made the decision to finish writing the album in LA. Gerard felt the need to seclude himself from the rest of the world, in hopes of speeding up the writing process. Once it was all out, he could get back to the fun stuff, and away from this crazy shit that made him wonder, in all seriousness, if he could really be considered sane.
Gerard squeezed his eyes shut tightly and shook his head, in an attempt to continue occupying the practical part of his brain. A quick glance out the window informed him that they were a block away from the train station, and were slowing to a stop at a red light at the moment.
“What time does your train come?” Kasper asked, casting a quick look at the clock on the dashboard.
“A quarter to nine,” Gerard replied, realizing he had some time to kill before catching the subway.
Kasper propped his elbow against the car door and leaned on his hand, looking out the window. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you into the city? You’ll be waiting in the cold for a fucking long time.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Gerard said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. He cast a look around, eyeing a small coffee shop across the street from the terminal. “Look, I’ll wait in there,” he said, pointing at the café.
“Alright, but I’m telling you, you don’t need any more caffeine. You’re already fucking crazy.” The light turned green, and Kasper pulled right up to the café.
Gerard laughed appreciatively. “Fuck you and your suggestions,” he said lightly, opening his door and leaning over to give Kasper one last parting kiss.
Kasper smiled and shook his head, amused. “I love you, too.”
After taking care not to slam the door and waving, Gerard hitched his bag higher up on his shoulder and proceeded into the small café.
The door made a noise of protest as Gerard pushed it open, but he barely registered it as he was hit by some wonderfully hot air. He let the door creak shut behind him, stepping into the shop and taking in the comforting atmosphere.
It was tiny and almost empty; there were about ten small tables, each with two chairs, one of which was being occupied by a middle-aged man with a bristly moustache, who was sipping a shot of espresso and reading The New York Times. The place had a comforting brown and beige color scheme, and had fluorescent light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. Despite the fact that it was almost impossibly warm, Gerard kept his hat and scarf on by force of habit; he was never prepared for being recognized on the street while off tour.
Gerard approached the glass counter, which displayed all different types of confections, his nose picking up the distinct smell of fresh muffins and coffee beans. There was a single employee standing behind the counter, clad in beige shirt and brown apron, and she looked up from the book she was reading as Gerard approached.
“Good morning, what can I get for you?” she asked politely as Gerard reached the counter. Her short brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, so Gerard noticed the small studs in her earlobes. There were several puncture marks, both in her ears and nose, which suggested she was pierced multiple times, but had removed them, perhaps for her job. She appeared to be teenaged (which made Gerard a little uncomfortable), and modestly pretty, despite the fact that she wasn’t wearing any makeup.
“Just a cup of coffee, and…” Gerard paused, looking down into the glass counter, “and a blueberry muffin, please.”
“Can do,” the girl said, reaching into the case and picking up a muffin with a hand covered by a plastic glove. “Would you like it toasted?” She looked Gerard in the eye and appeared to falter for a moment, her brown eyes going for a little too long without blinking.
“Sure, if it’s not too much trouble,” he responded, pulling at his scarf nervously.
The girl was still looking at him oddly, but snapped out of it after a moment, nodding and reaching for a knife to cut the muffin in half. “You can have a seat if you like,” she said. “I’ll bring it to you when it’s done.”
“Thanks,” Gerard said, choosing the table in the corner furthest from the window. He set his bag on the floor and pulled out his sketchpad, choosing to work on a drawing of a bare tree he had started a few days earlier. It was almost done; he just wanted to add some details.
He vaguely registered the sound of his coffee being poured, and the creak of the door as the other customer in the shop left.
A few minutes later, the girl walked over to him, balancing a white porcelain mug, a muffin on a plate, and a bowl of pre-packaged cream and sugar on a small tray. She set it down in front of him, taking care not to bump his sketchpad, and Gerard’s eyes followed her hand as she reached into the pocket of her apron for napkins. Gerard realized with a jolt that she had a My Chemical Romance button pinned to said pocket, which he couldn’t see before because of the counter, and he had a moment of irrationality in which he considered leaving without another word. Instead, he took it as a personal challenge.
“Aren’t you a little young to be working at this time of the morning?” he asked suddenly, setting down his pencil and tilting his head up, looking at her.
The girl laughed. “I’m older than I look, but not by much. Freshman in college, part time,” she offered, smiling amusedly so that her large white teeth showed prominently.
“Ah, well that explains it. I placed you to be about seventeen, I wasn’t too far off.” Gerard cursed himself mentally; he had wanted to bring up her button, but had chosen the wrong place to start the conversation from. He used to live for fan encounters before the band got popular; it was so personal, and it gave him an overwhelming sense of purpose. Nowadays, it was very rare to be able to have a real conversation with a fan, and he had the perfect opportunity right here. The hardest part was going to be letting her know who he was; he wasn’t about to rip off his excess clothing like Clark Kent turning into Superman, and it would sound far too conceited to blurt out, “Do you know who I am?”
Gerard realized that, despite the long stretch of silence, the girl was still standing there, with the thoughtful look back on her face. Just as Gerard opened his mouth to say something (what, he wasn’t sure), the girl did the same.
“You-oh, I’m sorry, go ahead,” she said, her face coloring slightly.
“No, it’s nothing,” he said, waving her off. “You go ahead.”
“Um, alright,” she said awkwardly, her eyes darting everywhere but Gerard’s face. “This is going to sound incredibly dumb, but you seem really familiar.” There was a hint of panic in her voice, and Gerard instantly felt bad for deceiving her, even if it was unintentional.
“The beauty that I’m faking lets me live my life like this,” Gerard muttered under his breath, ripping open a sugar packet with shaky hands and dumping its contents into his coffee.
“What?” the girl said, but judging by the shocked expression on her face, and the fact that she practically collapsed into the chair across from Gerard, she had heard him perfectly.
“Uh, nothing,” he said carefully. “What I mean to say is, it may have something to do with that button on your apron, and fuck, I’m no good at this-pardon my language.” Gerard’s words came out in a resigned rush, and the next thing he knew, he was becoming Superman, and wishing for a telephone booth to ease the transformation.
His hat and scarf fell to the floor, and he shook his hair out and smiled, sticking his hand out because he really didn’t know what the fuck else to do. “Hi, my name’s Gerard, what’s yours?”
The girl seemed to freeze, and frankly, Gerard didn’t blame her one bit. After a moment, she cracked a huge smile, and shook his hand. “Audrey. The idiot. I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry for bothering you.”
Gerard released her hand and smiled. “Don’t be,” he said firmly, looking her right in the eye. “If I didn’t want you to know who I am, I would have just pretended you were crazy and blown you off.”
Audrey nodded, and Gerard could see the different emotions flashing across her face as she digested the information she was getting. “I’m sorry,” she said again, now blushing furiously, “I acted like such an idiot, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away, I mean, you were talking to me in your normal voice and everything and I think I should know what it sounds like by now, and…” her voice trailed off as she realized she was rambling, and she abruptly shut her mouth, looking at him sheepishly. Gerard knew that, when dealing with a fan, the most important thing was listening to them, because it was basically all he could do. After all, they spent so much time listening to him, so he definitely owed each and every one of them something in return.
“How do I say this without sounding like a stuck-up asshole?” he started, and Audrey laughed skittishly. “You probably don’t get many incognito popular musicians walking in here, am I right? Wow, that still sounded stuck-up,” he finished, adding the last part as a side note.
Audrey laughed. “No, I don’t,” she said, seeming to relax a little bit. It was quiet for a few moments, and Gerard could almost see the questions begin to form in Audrey’s head. “So… what are you doing in the suburbs of Queens? Are the other guys with you?” She instantly craned her neck and turned around, looking out the window, as if she expected to see one of his band mates walking past the little café.
“I live here when we’re not on tour, with my girlfriend,” Gerard explained (telling the white lie effortlessly after years of practice, although he could have sworn he saw the corner of Audrey’s of mouth twitch slightly at the word), taking a sip of his coffee, which was strong to his liking. “The others are living here and there, or crashing at each other’s places. We all commute to the city every day… we’re working on the next album.”
Audrey nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I heard about that.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes and rubbing them with the thumb and forefinger of her left hand. “Oh my God,” she muttered, covering her face with her hands. “I feel like there’s something I’m supposed to say to you, but now that I can say it, I can’t remember any of it.”
Gerard smiled, now taking a bite out of his muffin. “That usually happens. It’s happened to me a few times, when I met someone I admired. And there I go, sounding conceited again.” He smacked his forehead lightly and wiped his hands on a napkin, returning to his coffee and absently fiddling with an empty sugar packet.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Audrey continued to mutter, casting a look at the door, perhaps to see if any customers were approaching. “Listen,” she said, her voice soft, as if she didn’t want him to hear. Gerard sensed the urgency in her voice and set his cup down, looking her right in the eye and tilting his head to the side, to communicate that he was listening. “I’ve been to a lot of your shows… you probably don’t remember, but the one last October, when you came to the area? I was there, and after the show, I always want to thank you, but it’s impossible to be heard in that mess, so basically, um.” She was picking at her chipping nail polish nervously, but not taking her eyes off Gerard for one second. “I want to say thank you. And I hope you understand how much you guys mean to me, really. I don’t have some heart-breaking tale of an abusive father that involves drugs and razors or anything like that, but you saved me in a different kind of way. And thank you. Really.”
Gerard felt his heart swell. Knowing that he was making some sort of difference always lifted him up in this amazing, intoxicating way, and it was his favorite natural high by far. This was the whole reason he started to play music, and whenever he was feeling down about it, all he really needed was to hear someone pour their heart out like this, and he fucking remembered why he bothered.
He smiled warmly at her, his eyes even tearing up slightly, and he felt like a fucking idiot (he was a grown man, for Chrissake), but the look on her face was enough to make him forget that. “Thank you,” he said, reaching across the table and taking her hand in his. She blushed and twitched slightly, but eventually relaxed into his hold. He looked her right in the eyes, and made his expression as sincere and serious as possible. “If it wasn’t for you, and people like you, I’d be six feet under the ground by now. And I’m gonna be honest with you, I was in a real shitty, depressed mood about what I have to do today before you told me that, and now I feel so much better, you have no idea.”
Audrey had tears in her eyes too at this point, and Gerard saw her try to speak, but she choked and just nodded, gripping his hand tightly.
At that moment, Gerard caught a look at the clock. “Oh shit, I have a train to catch!” he yelped, grabbing for his sketchpad. Audrey let go of his hand reluctantly.
“Sorry for keeping you,” she muttered, trying to be discreet about wiping the tears from her eyes.
“Stop apologizing,” he snapped playfully, pausing as he was about to close his sketchpad. He peered at the drawing for a moment, thinking. After a few seconds, he made his decision, and ripped it out of the book. He dug through his bag for a moment and withdrew a sharpie, and quickly signed the drawing, handing it over to Audrey. “Here,” he said, smiling at the shocked look on her face. “I want you to have it.”
She looked at it, reading what he wrote silently.
"To Audrey-
Thanks for making my day. I'm sure I'll see you again soon!
xoxo g."
“Wow… thank you for making my life,” she said, cracking a smile.
Gerard smiled back warmly, and then smacked his forehead (again) and dug through his pocket, withdrawing a ten-dollar bill. “I almost forgot to pay.”
“Oh!” Audrey said, smiling again. “I almost forgot to ask you to. Hold on, let me get your change.”
“No, keep the change, I have no time,” he insisted, although that wasn’t the real reason.
He gathered his things and started to make his way out the door. “It was so nice meeting you!” he said, but just as he was about to leave, she stopped him.
“Wait!” she called, stepping towards him. When he turned around, she flung her arms around him, still clutching the drawing he gave her. He smiled, amazed at how good this girl was making him feel, and returned the embrace with just as much passion. “Bye,” she said softly, pulling away after a few drawn out moments.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, and left the shop with a smile on his face, not caring if the passerby thought he was completely bonkers.
[//]
Chapter Two