Define
Title: Define
Author: keepthexfaith
Pairing: FrankxGerard, sort of
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not real, obviously. A figment of my imagination.
Warnings:
Language (mild)
Mature themes (drugs)
Character death
Define
‘It's not who we are underneath, but what we do that defines us’
You would quote this line to us repeatedly, often several times a day. Most people would have thought you were crazy, but in some part of my mind I knew why you were doing it. You were terrified of becoming the kind of person that, when we started this band, you hated with a passion.
I saw you falling in love with him. I think I saw it before anyone, even yourself. I saw the lingering glances, the ‘casual’ way your hand would brush over his when you passed things to each other, the way you would look at him when you thought no one was watching. I saw it all.
But I also saw him fall for you. Admittedly, his signs were a lot less obvious. I would catch him out on little things, like mirroring you actions, or stroking his thumb over his knuckles and looking just over your head, in case you turned and noticed the staring.
I picked up on these things. But you were completely oblivious to the signs. You would kiss him, tease him on stage, and every day I saw it hurt him a little more. No one else noticed it, I don’t think so anyway, but after a while, he began to lose the sparkle in his eye. By the time we started to tour with the third album it had gone completely. He would get sick more, and ended up not able to make the European and Australian tours dates.
Then you got engaged. It broke his heart, really it did. If I had thought he looked hurt before, it was nothing on the pain that flitted through his eyes every time he saw you two together. His whole appearance looked dull, lifeless, as though he was just going through the motions rather than living. I was amazed that you hadn’t noticed, but of course you were too wrapped up in your own world to realise. It was around this time that you stopped reminding us of that line, that “all important Batman quote” that you were supposedly going to live your life by.
When the engagement fell apart, I started noticing flashes of his past self shine through, like the first rays of light in an otherwise pitch black room. He would watch you closely every day, eyeing that finger that once held your ring with a mixture of jealousy and relief. Things started to go back to normal. He appeared happier and you seemed to relax more. The quote still didn’t crop up in conversation, but other than that all was well.
Then, without much warning to anyone, you announced your whirlwind romance and engagement to a new woman. I think the fall he took this time was even worse than any of the times before. You were falling out of love with him by this point. The process was slow, dreary even, but we all noticed it. The way you acted around him was slowly changing.
Where you would once cuddle up to him, kissing his cheek even, you now did with your new ‘love’. The glances you stole at him became rare. You no longer brushed you fingers over his hand as he passed you things. You didn’t need the contact any more. You didn’t need him any more, and even though he never knew how you felt, he noticed the difference too.
This time you actually got married, one night after a show. I was the best man. Don’t get me wrong; I was happy for you, proud even. But I could still see the dullness in his eyes, and I couldn’t help but blame you.
The days passed, and I watched him fall apart. He started drinking again, though he would never let you find out. He would sneak swigs of straight liquor in the kitchen when he thought no one was looking. I only found out because I mistook the shine in his eye for happiness. When I asked him about it he denied it so badly that it just made it obvious he was lying.
He steadily got worse, heading on a downwards spiral with no obvious way to escape. And you, you were absolutely oblivious to what was happening right underneath your nose. He started doing drugs shortly after you announced the pregnancy.
I think at this point you started to notice. You saw the telltale shine in his eye, caused by an assortment of prescribed and illegal drugs. You noticed the scars on his arms where he would scratch at them furiously with stubby nails when he thought no one was looking. But, rather than confronting him, you chose to ignore the signs, pretending they weren’t there. Or maybe you were still too wrapped up with her to notice your best friend slowly begin to self-destruct.
I can’t say it was a shock when they found him dead. I was devastated, yes. I couldn’t believe it. But I wasn’t surprised. I had tried so many times to get him to quit, to check himself into rehab, to do something. But he never listened. Every time I told you to confront him you would deny everything I said, insisting you ‘knew him well enough to know if he was a druggie’. Shows what you know, doesn’t it.
I knew that you’d be the only one he listened to. He loved you so, so much. Sometimes I really wonder why. In the last few months of his life you treated him more like a PA than a best friend. You’d ask him to get you things, to do things for you, to call people for you when you didn’t want to speak to them. And he would hang onto every word that came from your mouth, following orders without a seconds thought.
He was found on March 23rd, at 3:32am with a hypodermic needle still clutched in his hand. I bet you didn’t know the details like that, did you? You never bothered to find out. I was the one who found him. I had to identify the body to the police. I was the one who spoke at his funeral, and held his family while they dried. You couldn’t even be bothered to turn up, mumbling fake apologies to me and the family a few hours later when you pulled up in your ‘brand new car’ trying to hide the bags from all the designer stores you had shopped at in the back seat.
I’m not saying that you didn’t care. You cried for ages when you found out; but then your wife came over and you cheered up pretty quickly, choosing coffee and retail therapy over your best friends funeral.
You may wonder why I’m writing to tell you this. Well, I’m writing this because I wanted you to realise what you’d done to him. What you’d done to me. Because of you I lost the one person closest to me in my life. You may still delude yourself with the thought that this is you, but I thought I'd tell you personally that it’s not. And I hope that hurts. I hope that really fucking hurts after everything that you did to him.
‘It's not who we are underneath, but what we do that defines us’ is a quote that I will never forget, thanks to you. It applies to this situation so perfectly.
Because you may be this huge rock star, with thousands of kids shouting your name in a crowd. But when it all comes down to it, you’re just the little kid from Jersey who killed his best friend.