The Healing Powers of Loud Music and Frank

Distractions

"Why is the last mile the hardest mile?

My throat was dry, with the sun in my eyes

And I realized, I realized

I could never

I could never, never, never, go back home again,"

--The Smiths, Is It Really So Strange?

Mike returns back to the basement shortly, pushing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. He carries the Amp Cable losely around his neck as he settles down beside Frank.

"I could've just lend you mine," said Frank, just as Mikey plugged in his bass to the amp. Gerard struggles not to laugh at how strange everything seems to be, a warped jealousy present. Here he was, planning his death, and Mikey still wasn't seeking his company but some boytoys'.

It goes to show that, well, things never change. The sun shines, the wind blows, the rain falls. Gerard could very well have the gun to his head and nobody would look twice. People weren't wired that way. They don't care for the needy or the sick or the clinically insane, for that matter. People care for attention from something above them, whether it be God, a boss, or someone out of their leagues. Mikey was desperate for approval from musicians, just having started a few months back with the bass. And well, the Frank kid was an asshole who got what he could get. It was hardly Romeo and Juliet material.

"You should've gotten a guitar," continued Frank. Mikey plays the lick from 'Peace Sells...But Who's Buying', shaking his head.

"Guitars are way too common," Mike states. "Everyone wants to play guitar, but no one really cares about the bass. It's like the gig hidden in plain side."

"Hmm," Frank replies, not knowing how to reply to that. It was true, in a way, what Mikey said. People learning guitar to form bands were becoming the bandwagon. You were either on it or not, Frank was on it. Mikey was above it, however. He was far too intelligent to be on it. That was just Mikey, really, finding metaphors on something like picking instruments.

"Also, guitars are my thing-" Gerard says from the couch, unable to contain himself. The kid was a fucking idiot, Mikey picked out the stupidest kid to have as a boyfriend. Sure, he played guitar well and was fairly attractive but everything that came out his mouth was nothing valuable.

"Ah, you play guitar?" asks Frank, head turned to Gerard who seemed to be staring straight at him, analysing him.

"No, not anymore-" Mikey cuts in, putting a hand over the bass strings to muffle the sound.

"I used to play back when I was in high school," Gerard explained. "Gave it up before going to art school," A spurt of laughter, like Gerard knew a joke that the other two didn't, left the former art student's throat, and sobering up, he added, "Gave that up too."

"Oh," Frank's lips formed a perfect 'O' before becoming taut, pressed together in a thin line. "Well," he contemplated, removing the neck strap from himself, holding the guitar by the neck, extending it toward Gerard. "You'd like to give it a go?"

That was something Gerard wasn't expecting, for the idiot kid to offer his guitar. He didn't know what it was that compelled him to cap his bottle and stand up. "Fine, but don't expect me to start fuckin' soundin' like Prince or some shit, 'cause I don't."

He grabbed the Les Paul by the neck, digits pressed against the steel strings. Taking up the spot where Frank took, his fingers formed the shape of an E minor chord. "D'you got a pick?" he asks.

"Mhm," Frank answers, handing him a black pick. The sound resonated once the strings were strummed, full and warm, the slight buzz of the amp in the background. Gerard's fingers changed the tonality and the key, going to their respective place as the muddy sound of a C major chord rang out through the amp, flat and weak.

"Here," Frank said, fixing Gerard's finger position. "Try it again."

--

The trio ends up ordering a pizza as Gerard offered to pay for it, the bottle forgotten on the floor across the room. Gerard had been so cut off from everything, especially something as mundane as human contact, that it was refreshing spending time with his brother and his brother's little boyfriend. Their gazes didn't seem to make him jealous anymore, he grew immune to their giggles and looks the pair gave each other. Of course, at the end of the day, Gerard was alone as always. The distraction ended up just not being liquor, it was the only difference. His fate was determined by himself, no amount of music or time spend with Mikey would save him from himself.