I get dressed, pulling on black jeans and grey jumper, and then covering my eyes with sunglasses. If I'm going to leave the house, I'm not letting anyone see the bags under my eyes - the proof of how little I've slept. I sigh, maybe for the fifteenth time today, and decide I'll just go to Starbucks. I know it’s a little public, and about a thousand fans will probably ambush me, but I'd rather have the memory of my ex-band brought up than the memories of my ex-wife. The drive to the mall is kind of boring, not much happening except I'm driving like a zombie. It's like my hands and feet have a mind of their own, taking me to the mall when I'm lost in my own thoughts. But once I reach the mall, I walk slowly with the crowd of people, trying to hide myself as much as possible. Starbucks is really close to the entrance of the mall, and so it doesn’t take too long until I’m in line with the rest of the zombies craving coffee. When I was at the front of the line, I took my sunglasses off to see the menu past the cashier. But when they gasped I instantly regretted the decision. I glanced in the direction of the gasp, and saw a familiar female face.
“Frank?” They say, narrowing their eyelids closer together. “Is that you? Man, you look... well, shit.”
I laugh a little humourlessly, and try to remember her name. I look at the tag on her green apron to find out that it’s Monica. The writing on the tag is cursive and neat, almost too neat. And her black hair curls and bounces down to her chest. She’s pretty, but way too familiar for my liking. Maybe she’s a fan; I mean she knew my name.
“Are you a fan? I mean, I’ll sign something for you of course, just don’t draw too much attention to me, I’m not really in the mood,” I plead with the familiar stranger.
“I’d love to say I’m a fan, but I’m pretty sure J would kill me if I was.” The stranger uses the nickname of my ex-wife and I almost choke. She must be a friend of Jamia’s. Oh shit.
“You know Jamia?” I ask, “Do you know where she is? Can you ask her to call me? How are the kids? Are they ok?”
“You know I can’t do that, Frank,” She sighs, her brow creasing, “The kids are well, a little fucked up to be honest with you. They miss you like crazy and it hasn’t even been a week. They keep asking for you and-“
“Monica if you want to keep your job, serve the man his coffee and move the line on!” A man shouts from beside us and I smile a little, having not noticed the line building up behind me.
“Just give me a black coffee,” I say and she nods and turns to go make it. I stand at the counter, thinking about what I should do. She I ask her to say hey to my kids for me, or will that fucks them and me up more? This stranger, to me, has more interaction with my kids than I do.
“Here you go,” She says handing me the coffee with a sad, sympathetic style. I give way more money than she needs and tell her to say hey to my kids for me. She nods and I walk away, not so proud that my life has been reduced to bribing strangers to communicate with my kids.
I quickly walk to an empty table by the big window before people from the line take all free spaces. The window is slightly open and the scent of the coffee and freshly baked croissants escapes and it’s replaced with fresh air. A lot of the people rush to the door with their cups straight after they are served. The rest of them sit by tables placed around the café. All of them have somewhere to go and something to do, but not me. I sit on a soft dark brown mini-sofa and place my big coffee in front of me. The aroma of the coffee awakes me as I wrap my tattooed fingers around the cup and feel the heat of the liquid. My mind goes back to what I had a few months ago. It’s funny how everything can change so fast. I had a big family; not only Jamia and the kids but the band. My Chemical Romance was my life. I never wanted the band to end and nothing will replace the emptiness in my heart after MCR. I lived, breathed, and bled in the band. Everything I did was for the good of the band and my family. Now it’s all gone. I take a sip of the coffee wishing that it would magically turn into alcohol. Maybe that would make me forget and it would hurt less. I take another sip of the hot liquid and let it warm up my throat from the inside. I lock my eyes on the cup of coffee I carefully put in front of me when I feel somebody’s hand on my shoulder. I freeze for a second. Human interaction feels strange after days of loneliness. Then I hear a familiar voice.
“Hello,” said Gerard. “Do you mind if I join you?” His thick eyelashes flutter as he speaks. His hazel eyes lock on mine for a moment. He sits down in front of me without waiting for my answer. He knows I wouldn’t mind. He’s holding two large cups of coffee. His smile widens and his small teeth become visible. I freeze and tighten my grip on my cup of coffee. Gerard takes a sip of one of his coffees slowly and tilts his head to one side. He lifts his eyebrows and warmly smiles at me once more.
“Hello.” I finally choke out. I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m surprised by how good he looks. His black hair is messy and clean. His clothes match and compared to me, he looks great. But why should I care about my appearance when I have no one to impress? His black jacket loosely hanging on his shoulders matching his tight black jeans smells of cigarettes. It just makes me want to go out for a cigarette but I remember that I smoked them all in the morning. “What are you doing here?”
“Just getting some coffee for me and Lynz.” He says. Even though he is smiling all the time I can see the worry dancing in his eyes. He’s worried about me. You can sense that something is wrong with me, because right now, nothing is okay. Some kids enter Starbucks and I take my eyes off Gerard and look their way. They are with their parents getting hot chocolate. I quickly look away not wanting the whole process of being tortured by memories to repeat. I remember how Gerard’s family and my family used to go out on Sundays. We’d go out a lot together. Me and Gerard always spent a lot of time together until it became a problem for Jamia. She thinks that I spent more time with Gerard than with my own kids. Also, music took a lot of my time. Constantly practising, meeting up with the band to create more music. It was something I loved to do but it’s not easy to fit everything in when life is so short and there’s not enough time to do everything.
“Where are you going after this?” I ask, curious. He looked like he had stuff to do, and I didn’t really want to take up anymore of him time. His face changes to a look of guilt and I get really worried. What was he hiding? He rings his hands together, the coffees on the table.
“Well, I’m going to take this to Lindsey,” He gestures to the coffee cup with a nod, “And then head to Mikey’s to um… jam a little. You know how it is, you’ve gotta just be creative sometimes. And then I’m gonna do some Art work for a client.”
“You’re making music?” I’m more than a little angry, my fists clenched tightly on top of the table, Gerard stares at them with a look of shock, his eyes wide, “You’re making music and you didn’t tell me? You just let me sit at home and wonder if I’m ever going to make music again, while you and Mikes have the time of your lives jamming together?”
“Frank, you know it’s not like that.” I assume he’s trying to reason with me, because his voice is stern, but his face shows panic, like he’s desperate to explain himself. “Mikey and I are brothers, we’ll always create together, and that’s just how it is. If you wanna make music why don’t you find a new band? Or write your own songs? You don’t need us to be around everything you do.”
“But I want you there,” I press, my coffee abandoned as my arms fly upwards in emphasis, “I want you there to help me. That’s how it’s always been. You like, I don’t know, help me write. Without the band, I don’t know what I am. Can I even call myself a guitarist anymore? You have a degree, I have nothing.”
“I don’t really know what you want me to say Frank,” Gerard shrugged, his eyes sad, “The band’s done, I don’t know what I can do to help you, but I want to help you. I’ll do whatever you want; I just want to know you’ll be okay.”
“Take me with you, and let me play with you,” I ask, letting him know that in that moment that was the thought in the forefront of my mind. Nothing else mattered except making music with two of my best friends. “Let’s create together.” I’m begging, my arm almost reaching across to grab Gerard’s to help him understand how much I want this.
He didn’t respond, he just looks at me sadly, hugging his joined fingers towards his chest. It looks like he thought I already knew he was going to say no, but truthfully? I didn’t. I thought he’d give in and let me go with him, but I guess I was wrong.
“I have to get this to Lindsey,” He says sadly, almost dejected, “I’ll see you around, Frank.”
“Yeah. Bye, Gerard.”
His hazel-green eyes meet mine for the last time before he walks away from me and out of the coffee shop. And then I’m alone again, the comfort of a friend being ripped away again. It was like having a band aid slowly ripped off. Nobody knew how painful it was to have the pieces of my life that I adored ripped away from me slowly. Maybe it would be less painful if it was all at once.
Chapter 1
Mulai dari awal
