All These Miles...

Gravity

"I've tied my stomach in knots and I'm ready to know, I'll put it on the line if you'd just give it a go. 'Cause I want to be the only one to hold you so close and so tight, and if it's cool with you I'd really love to spend the night."

I coughed shortly from the smoke that puffed from the mouths of potheads huddled in the corners and pushed past a couple guys wearing varsity jackets. My friend, Ray, and brother, Mikey had already run off in chase of a couple pairs of stilettos. "You need to get out of the apartment and get laid, Gee!" they told me earlier on in the night. I was content to be huddled over my sketchbook, drawing up another character design, but apparently to them this was a better place for me to be. I felt like a third wheel here... I mean here I was, this chubby art major wearing a hooded jacket with a striped sweater underneath... I didn't belong in this crowd of punked junkie rejects and underage girls looking for a hot ride.

I fumbled with the inner lining of my jacket and tried to peer over the sea of shoulders to find Ray's messy fro, but was ultimately defeated in this when someone shoved past me with a guitar in his hands. I watched him go past, the guitar practically dragging across the floor. He couldn't have been more than five feet tall and if it weren't for the maturity in his face I would've taken him for a kid. I lost him as he weaved through the crowd, but was able to see him hobble up on stage. I flared my nostrils and squinted at the stage lights, making my way down to a seat at the bar where the view of the stage was better. He was a pretty unassuming guy by his height, I guess that's why I was so fascinated by him. Red eyeshadow was caked around his sockets, and his hair looked like it had been reverse-skunked, bleached on the sides but a big black streak down the front. He wore a bomber vest (in hindsight I'm not sure how he managed to get it) with a white button down shirt underneath, and tight black skinny jeans to match. He honestly looked like Halloween on feet, but I just assumed that was his "stage persona".

He lowered the microphone, which to his head at it's original place was a sheer foot higher. He looked out to the crowd, clinging to the stand, and cleared his throat. "Uh I'm Frank Iero, this is my brother, and this is my other brother, and together we're Frnkiero andthe Cellabration. This song goes out to my long time mentor, one Ms. Lindsey Ballato, and it's called 'She's the Prettiest Girl at the Party, and She Can Prove it with a Solid Right Hook'." He looked down and bit his lower lip as he began plucking away at the guitar strings. His mouth gaped open a little and he leaned back to support the weight of the guitar. I stared at him intently and my heart leapt solidly in my chest when he started to sing.

I swallowed dryly and looked down into the shot glass that sat before me. I downed it and shook my head, the bitter, chemical taste of the cheap liquor left me nauseated. I shouldn't be here, I really should not be here. "Oh fuck," I whispered under my breath. This wasn't going to end well.

~^V^~

I jerked awake in a pool of cold sweat, my head spinning and throbbing from the night before. My sheets were soaked and clung to my legs. I laid my head back down and sunk into the pillows, squinting at the light that seeped in through the drapes. "Oh my god never again...," I said, running my hands through my hair in a poor attempt to ease my headache. I lazily stood and shambled my way over to the dresser, hitting my heavy head on the wood as I bent over to pull out a shirt. I grunted and wobbled backwards, gripping the dresser so that I didn't fall. I roughly pulled my shirt over my head and walked out of my bedroom and into the hallway that led to the rest of the apartment.

I could hear shrill giggles from the kitchen and I knew right away that Mikey found himself a girl (or two) the night before. Mikey lit up when he saw me, a girl draped on his hip. She was pretty busty with black hair and stern brows to match. She looked like she could fuck you in or fuck you up, not really Mikey's crowd... so her presence surprised me. I blinked repeatedly, feeling my brows furrow at her presence. She raised her brow and bit the inside of her cheek, a slight smirk forming at her lips. She looked me up and down and giggled shortly under her breath. My frown turned to confusion and I was pretty sure that my disheveled appearance was very amusing to her.

"Lyn, this is Gerard, my big brother.. in more ways than one," Mikey smirked. My face dropped at this remark and I stared off with a strong look that Mikey knew to translate as "go shove velcro up your ass". He forcibly laughed and "Lyn" pushed gently off of his side and started towards the stairs that led to the loft Mikey claimed as his room.

"I'll go get decent, boys," she said. I watched her walk away, only now noticing that she was wearing one of Mikey's shirts and just black lace panties that hugged her ass cheeks tightly. I looked away quickly, my cheeks flushing. I started to the bar top and sat at one of the stools. I brought a hand up to the side of my face and rubbed my eye roughly.

"So where'd you find that?" I said drowsily to Mikey. Mikey placed a coffee cup in front of me and leaned back against the counter opposite of me.

"She was at the joint last night. She's a rocker chick, full on band and everything," Mikey replied, his chest swelling (likely from the fact he tapped her). I hung my head over the mug before me and closed my eyes, the smell of the coffee alone clearing my hangover slightly.

"What even happened last night?" I asked.

"You fucking threw up and passed out next to the potheads. They drew dicks on your face..."

I frowned and looked at my reflection in the coffee mug. Several smudged penises were scribbled across my forehead. "Oh for fuck's sake, Mikey! Is that why she was fucking laughing at me?!"

Mikey chuckled and adjusted his glasses before crossing his arms. "Duh."

I dropped my forehead in my palms and gripped my hair tightly. "Jesus Christ..."

"We're not taking you out anymore, I can tell you that. You're a drag to party with, Gee," Mikey added, his tone stabbing my already throbbing head with needles. I took a swig of the coffee and smacked my lips before looking up to the loft, from which the shower could distinctly be heard.

"I've got a class today, man... I can't be hungover in class."

"Call in, tell them you're sick."

"That always works well for you," I said, glaring at him through the corner of my eyes. Mikey returned the glare and chewed his thumbnail a little. "You need to stop skipping like this, Mikes, it's going to bite your ass when the quarter finals come around."

"I'm working on it."

I pushed the hair from my face. "You know I don't believe that." Mikey looked down at the thumbnail he was working, his face flushing. I huffed a desperate sigh and cradled my forehead in my palms. "God Mikey, I worry about you. You were doing so well before...," I stopped my mouth before I continued. The widened silence told me enough, I said more than I should have, even with the lack of words, my thoughts were implied. I could hear Mikey's erratic breathing as I knew he was trying to keep from exploding all over the kitchen walls. "I-"

Mikey's face went from an embarrassed flush to red with anger. "No, you said enough. I get it. I get it," he said as he started to leave the kitchen.

"Mikey, I...," I choked.

Mikey spun around to face me and cut me short. "Gerard."

I knew to take that as a cue for me to forever shut my mouth. I scratched my scalp as Mikey stormed off, taking my humility and ignorance along for the ride. They sat atop Mikey's shoulders and stared back at me, scowling in disdain at my balls. Oh I had plenty of balls, just in the wrong places it seemed.

It wasn't long before my self-induced guilt trip was abruptly shoved into the abyss of my subconscious by the girl Mikey brought home. She was standing in front of me, her dark eyes gripping my balls in a crab pincher. All I could feel in that moment was her metaphorical claws squeezing my sack into oblivion as she pried me with her eyes.

"What's got your knob in a knot?" she asked.

If you only knew. I fumbled for words. "Nothing, just I'm an asshole," I replied, not exactly stopping the conversation as I'd hoped.

"What, did you tell the baby I was a bad girl?" I chuckled shortly, feeling my balls drop a little bit more as I calmed down.

"I wish it were that simple."  

Author's Note: I added an additional 3 pages (not sure how many that is for mobile) to this chapter, as you'll notice if you've read before the updated version.  I was hoping to mix a bit of humor and emotion, I might've gotten carried away.