“The only thing I’m open to discuss concerning Frank’s death is that we are no longer a band. By ‘we’ I mean My Chemical Romance. As much as the last hours of Frank Iero’s life was of us fighting… I could never EVER imagine making music or going on stage without him with me.”
The interviewer nodded and ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ noises escaped her lips in attempt to try and understand Gerard’s words. A coy smile played on her lips as she read her next question from the paper.
“Now is the public correct in assuming after the break up with you and Riley Shebble she moved on to Frank?”
“Excuse me?” He hissed. Daring her to continue.
She didn’t pick up on it. “We all know the story of the funeral, you were lowering the casket into the ground she snapped and tried to throw herself in after him. Not only that they were caught out a few times and-“
“One more word and I swear on my name I will make you regret it.”
She sat looking stunned and dumbfounded. “That’s what I thought. It is true she did do that at the funeral but she never was involved romantically with him. I can assure you. Right now Riley and I are not in a relationship, all though I would like it… a lot. She needs time to process a lot of this, her best friend she ever had in this world was Frank and he was her only friend for a long time and he died last week. When the world turned its back on her he welcomed her with open arms and was more of a brother than her own ever was. She adored and loved him for that reason alone so you can see why she acted the way she did.”
She nodded and looked down, ashamed. “If that’s all I would like to close the interview.”
“No, that’s all.”
“Good.” He muttered.
I switched off the TV and sat in bed still. Not moving not thinking. I haven’t left my apartment since the funeral. So that meant cleaning was in order. And after cleaning I realised how much of Frank’s stuff is still here. I decided I was going to still make the band I wanted but it’s going to be a different project. I was the band, drums and whatever else can be session musicians but it was just me now. I apologised to the 10 people we had from the batch and then sent them on their way with written recommendations from me. They were pleased. Every now and again someone would knock on my door and ask me to get outside. More often than not it was either my manager (Mikey) or it was people from the hotel. Mr Cooper even visited me or ‘call me Alice’ as he has said many times. But no Gerard, was that whole ‘I want her’ thing a sham? Was it to promote his comic books he has been doing. I’m not sure, I’m just not sure anymore. But any who it’s safer in here, safer to stay in the bed where I can still smell the wax he used in his hair. It still lingers on my pillow and makes me believe he is still alive. It’s nice thinking he is still alive. “Riley open the door!”
I heard rapid knocks upon the door and then a scuffle. There was more than one person. “Riley I KNOW you’re in there open the damn door!”
It was Mikey, but I don’t know who else was there with him. “Riley I swear to God you owe us this much just open the door.”
I stayed on the couch staring at the door. “I have some of Frank’s things for you.”
Frank’s stuff? “Nah just forget it she won’t open the door.”
I ran to the door and there was Mikey and Gerard looking at me in a daze. “Fuck Riles what have you done to yourself.”
My guess was he was referring to my hair. I did change it. I cut it like Frank’s actually. One side shaved and the fringe cascading over the opposite side of my face. It was bleached white again and I had little bits of layers sticking out everywhere and what not. Home jobs are better than hair dressers I always say. They looked down and Mikey looked away blushing but Gerard kept looking a smile playing on his lips. “For fuck’s sake go put some pants on please.” Mikey whined.
