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Chapter Fourteen
Broken
I hate you, I hate this place, I had my job, I hate everything. I hate, I hate, I hate.
That’s all I could think about as I walked into the bar after checking my car was still okay. I had forgotten it there but like I said before, I didn’t give a rat’s ass if anyone took anything out of it. I had nothing valuable enough to be stolen. This helped things and then again didn’t make me feel very good about myself but you just can’t hide from the facts.
I scanned the pub. No flies were in yet, the place just opened not five minutes before, people weren’t that desperate for a drink. If they were I wouldn’t know what to think of the world anymore – I don’t even know how to think of it now. Over all, I hated it with a passion. Life wasn’t worth it if you were a guy like me. Not knowing anything or what the hell to do. I couldn’t stand it anymore. They say things are for a reason, good or bad? They tend to vary in the bad section with me. I don’t know what I deserved to get this kind of punishment. I was just trying to live up to who I really want to be
I was giving Gerard for those short few days to teach me my own life lesson. Now, I don’t know what the fuck that lesson was or what it had to do with me but it sure as hell took it’s toll on my mind. I didn’t want to be teased; I just wanted to be left alone. That’s what everybody used to do to be before all of this happened. And although I wasn’t happy, it was better than feeling the pain I felt now. It was stupid, I was stupid. I wanted to tuck away inside my apartment and never come out again. Not because I was possibly gay, but because of everything else. The sun light no longer comforted me anymore. That camping feeling disappearing with ever ray that touched my skin. Things were fading as I continued to be exposed to the real cruelties of the world. Spring was just a season now, people were just things that got in my way, and I was in the center of it all, spinning in circles, trying to find my way around an endless maze. Indeed, I was lost.
A man walked in. Scruffy beard, mean eyes, and look that told you not to cross him. I stepped away from the counter and pretended not to nice him by picking oh my nails. It was a bad habit I never got over after dad died. It wasn’t a nervous tick or anything, more like a shy one. Thankfully the man walked over to Mia, the hostess working to seat people. I wanted no part of that man, and apparently he wanted no part of me. I wondered why he looked so mean, why he had a scar across his upper left eye. Maybe he had a problem too, maybe there was something clouding his thoughts that he just couldn’t shake, and that’s why he came here, to try and drink away his worries. A flood of guilt drowned out all my prior thoughts and accusations. Who was I to say he was mean just for the hell of it? I didn’t know him. I was still afraid of him though. And I decided to stop staring at him once he noticed the awkward kid in there late twenties, or something, standing behind the counter picking at his nails. My eyes darted away quickly so not to stir the dude. It worked, I was safe.
Even in the work area questions of Gerard and what had happened popped into my head. I kept telling myself that it was useless. I didn’t have any answers! But my mind wouldn’t stop racing.
…
It was the end of the day. I was surprised by two things. One: The boss didn’t make me stay later, and two: There weren’t many customers. I was happy about that, too. I didn’t have to deal with all the regular assholes that decided to come in and ruin my life even more. I had the time of my life today. But now, I was off to Gerard’s. I needed to do this, for my dad’s sake. I frowned as I walked out of the building. I hopped into my car which wouldn’t start at first but after giving it a few pushes and swears it chose to listen.
My foot on the pedal felt foreign to me. I hadn’t driven the car in so long I felt like every time I turned the car was going to flip over. It was an old thing, not as old as the satchel my father had. But still old. I had gotten it from a distant cousin who didn’t want it anymore and didn’t give a shit who she gave it to. My mom pulled through (for once) and offered to take it off her hands. As an eighteenth birthday present she gave it to me. I was excited then, thinking I would actually have the time to fix the piece of junk up but I grew older my interest went down and the car stayed in it’s shitty condition to this day. It ran like it has been shot five times, and it purred like it was about to fail any minute. As I drove down the street I would usually get weird looks from people thinking I was some fucked up teenager. I kind of was in a way, but not on purpose and I wasn’t a teenager anymore. Far from it actually.
I turned onto the boulevard over from Gerard’s street. My blood pressure rose as my heart started working faster to keep my breathing. I approached the apartment buildings. I packed the car in the back lot, from there I could see one of Gerard’s window looking out and down at me. It gave me the eerie feeling but I moved on. I couldn’t stop here. I was facing my fears, my newly found ones. I just hoped everything would go smoothly and I could just go and get out. And, I high doubted he even thought I was coming, after what happened why would he?
My forehead was drenched with nervous sweat. I felt cold, multiple chills traveling through my body. I walked through the back entrance, somewhere I had never been before. I kicked myself in ass, too. After walking down a couple of hallways I thought were the right ones I found I was completely lost. I should have just come through the regular front doors. I watched the numbers on the doors as I walked by, trying to figure my way around the damp and ugly interior of the apartments. I sighed when I made me way to the main tiny lobby where no one was ever at the front desk. It was like it was abandoned.
I turned to my left and walked down the hallway I knew was right. My gut dropped lower with each step. It became harder to breathe when I stood facing the door to Gerard’s home. I never wanted it to be this way, I never thought it could. I thought about knocking but figured I should just get it over with, then again walking in without warning was rude, an invasion of privacy. I knocked and waited, but nothing came to the door. I heard no footsteps, or jolly muffled singing I sometimes heard. There was complete silence and I became weary.
Without a second thought I turned the knob and walked in. I gasped quietly and I couldn’t believe what I saw. I blinked a couple of times just to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. Gerard was lying on the couch asleep, nestled into the crevasse of the cushions breathing with quick but even breaths. I furrowed my brow in horror and my lips formed a frown. All around, on the floor, in the kitchen, huddled with Gerard were beer bottles. They were everywhere. Cans, bottles, there was barley a place to walk when you got in. I knelt down and felt the paint that was still dried to the floor, now layered by beer bottles. I shook my head. I could not believe it.
I took a few steps over to him but then decided against my next one. I looked at him for a long time, studying the curve of his back. There was a reek of beer smell in the apartment which flooded out all the paint fumes and graphite scents which usually crowded the room. He was so beautiful when he slept, eyes closed gently and the air flow fluid like the wind. I shut my eyes along with him, not able to stare at him for another minute, but I had to, I couldn’t let him go. “Gerard,” I whispered. There was a crack in my voice as I held back unwanted tears. I took a few steps closer, my shoes, clinging against the cans and bottles as I walked, making distant sounds that hurt my eardrums. Even from the noises I was creating he didn’t stir from his sleep. I could see some of his face but the rest was being cradled by the soft fabric of the couch. His eyes looked tired, dark circles hung below them. His skin was paler than normal which worried be a bit. His hands were loosely tucked near his stomach. He reminded me, right then and there, of a little puppy in the cold. I wanted to take him home and keep him safe. He looked broken, a fragile doll that if dropped, would shatter into a million pieces. I looked away from him for a moment and back down at the floor. It was a sea of alcohol shells. They littered the floor like they owned the place, like they owned him. I looked to the wall where the Créer used to be so visible. Now, it was painted over by Gerard and my mess we made yesterday, but there was something new, that hit me in the heart and made me want to throw up. I shivered and slammed my eyes shut not wanting to look anymore, but again, I had to. The golden yellow liquid of the beer from a bottle was splashed again the wall I was looking at. It stained our paint and the Créer mural; shards of a beer bottle were lying on the floor right under the golden stain. I flinched and had to look back at Gerard whose eyes were open and alert.
“Why are you here?” He spat with a shutter in his words. I had nothing to say. I was still in shock. I looked down at the cans and motioned him, asking him why? Why had he done this? “I didn’t want you to see. Ever. Frank, leave.” I didn’t listen. “Frank, go, now.” I still didn’t. Gerard began to realize that I wasn’t going anywhere. He turned on his back so he could look at my fully with his gorgeous olive eyes. “Why,” I muttered. I felt the phlegm and vomit start to rise in my throat. The smell was so awful, the image, worse. “I made a mistake.” He seemed to sink as he said the last word. I – without hesitation – brought my hand to his cheek and rubbed it softly. “No, you didn’t.” I closed my eyes. “Why did you do this?”
“You don’t understand, Frank! This isn’t me! No anymore!”
“Then what I am seeing here?” I motioned with my hand to the mess. “Because of what I want but can’t have.” I sat up straight, trying to comprehend what he was answering to. “What is it that you want, Gerard?” I refused to look away from him, now. I wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. “Save me.” He said in a whisper. I bent down and wrapped him in a hug. I was going to save him. And he was going to save me too. I could see that in his eyes from the moment I met him. “I’m sorry you had to see this,” He said into my ear. I shook my head slowly. “I’m glad I did.” Gerard pulled away from me and stared at me with a confused look. “You need someone, Gerard. Just like I do.” He nodded. “Why didn't you tell me?” I asked, trying to read his face. “Because I knew you saw me as a stranger.” He said with a sad expression. But heart sunk for him, I felt his pain, I burshed back his black hair with my hand.
“And what am I to you?”
“A miracle.”
