The Blue Streaked Boy and Me| frerard

12. i can't take my eyes off of you

-tw: suicide mentions                 

Thirty minutes and four cigarettes later (I had one and Marie had worked through three), we had practically shared everything about ourselves.

I now knew about her five siblings and her struggle with the group of raging testosterone, and she now knew about Lynn and my twisty family and the story of how I met Gerard Way (she wasn't surprised).

But the thing I wanted to know the most about was Lindsey.

"Can you tell me anything about Lindsey?"

I flicked my burnt out cigarette to the cracked cement and stubbed it out with the heel my converse. Marie handed me another from her pack, which I reluctantly took. I really didn't want to form a habit out of smoking, but it just took the edge off everything I was dealing with.

I've only had four cigarettes ever and the nicotine has already started talking. I made a silent pact that the smoking would stop when I got back to Jersey.

"Are you sure you want to hear about her?" Marie blew tiny puffs of smoke.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Lindsey Ballato," she drifted off as if she had no idea where to start, as if Lindsey was more of a character than my own boyfriend, as if she was just an mystical entity of mystery and wonder, "I... I think you need to ask Gerard about her. I don't feel right about giving you secondhand information about someone like Lindsey. Especially since you're dating him."

The boys filed out of the restaurants' side alley door where Marie and I were having girl talk.

"Are we interrupting anything important guys?" Joe asked smirking.

I focused on my freezing fingertips being residually warmed by the cigarette I hadn't finished.

"No, I think we're done here!" Marie laughed inconspicuously, slapping me on the back.

"We're about to roll out. The meal was great, give our compliments to your boss," Pete gave a megawatt movie star smile.

She matched his grins' intensity, "No promises Wentz."

I turned to Marie and hugged her for all it was worth.

"Nice meeting you Marie. Thanks for everything."

All the words that needed to be exchanged already said, my new friend just hugged me back and smiled sadly.

Gee wrapped a warm arm around my waist.

"Text me sometime!" I grinned.

"Of course."

Gerard's eyes slid over to his group of friends.

"It was great seeing you guys again, but I promised Frank that I'd take him sightseeing."

"So you'd rather hang out with your newest hot pocket than us?"

I felt my face heat up at Pete's comment. I would like to think that I'm more than a sidepiece.

Gee stepped forward, getting into Pete's face. "Yeah, actually, I would."

Pete turned away, totally done with the argument, but Gerard wanted to provoke him a little more, scoffing: "Bet you wouldn't be saying that if you were still sleeping around with Lindsey."

He make a quick lunge for Gee, but Andy and Joe held him back while my boyfriend and I scampered away down the street.

After we had made it a block or two away I spoke, "Thanks for standing up for me in front if your friends... That's a hard thing to do, I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it," he kissed my forehead and continued walking.

As promised, Gerard took me sightseeing. We attraction hopped, checking out museums and parks and all the important landmarks in-between, until we landed at the Golden Gate Bridge.

It was around four o'clock in the afternoon and the sky was still bright.

Gerard felt the urge to capture this moment.

"This is such an aesthetic Frankie!"

"Sure it is," I shrugged.

He gave me a look and then whipped out his phone, running over to hand it to a passerby.

A man came back to our spot smiling, "It's good to see that young people are still doing these things."

I tried to ignore the panicked look that flitted across his face as Gee wrapped an arm around my waist and I leaned into him. We stuck our pose long enough for the man to get a couple of good shots.

After Gee retrieved his phone he started rapidly deleting the pictures that he thought were bad. I rolled my eyes as he stuck out his phone.

"This one is the best."

It was us, of course, sun still resting in the sky draped behind the Golden Gate Bridge, the grass lush beneath our shoes. It looked more like an engagement photo (if your normal engagement photos were of two kids dressed in black and one had partly blue hair) than just us hanging out for a day.

I laughed and leaned into him.

"It's perfect Gerard."

He gave me a dumb grin, "Hey, you know what would be perfect right now? A picnic!"

He pulled a cliché wooden basket from who knows where and led me down to a spot where he laid down a red-checkered blanket. And I almost– almost rolled my eyes. It's the thought that counts.

Food still heavy in our stomachs we raced up, fingers linked, to the Golden Gate Bridge.

When we past the first big tower, he stopped and pulled us over to the side. In the dusky afternoon, the sun illuminated the whole bay. I gasped in wonder. But I wanted to get closer, I wanted to feel more of the breeze on my face, I wanted more of everything the view of the bridge offered. So, I stepped over the safety rails and sat on them using the ledge beneath my feet to steady me.

"Are you sure you want to– never mind." He thrust his legs over the rail and joined me.

We didn't touch each other or try to make any moves to kiss; it wasn't a romantic moment, it was a personal reflection time.

Gerard and I sat three inches apart in silence for what felt like hours, until he spoke.

"Do you ever think about how easy it would be just to end it all?"

He was looking in between his legs at the water churning beneath us.

I didn't respond but my brain responded with a, "Yes." My brain said, "Who do you think would care, if you suddenly died? Do you think anyone would be surprised if you killed yourself?"

I said none of that. Sometimes it was better to sit in silence.

Some things are too intimate to speak aloud, so I just let out a bit of knowledge.

"L'appel du vide," I whispered.

Three years of French class and this is the first time I've used the language in context.

"What?" He turned his torso to face me.

"L'appel du vide literally translates into Call of the Void. It's a psychological phenomenon," I paused, " an urge to suddenly do off with yourself or someone else. Like what you just said about how easy it would be just to end it right now."

I spoke without looking at him. It would have ruined the point if I did. I slowly unwound our fingers that had somehow become intertwined and stepped off the ledge.

new down with cis chapter soon. i haven't forgotten about you all.

-xo lola