blue ; gallavich

32

IAN

She stares down at my swollen wrist, utter confusion shown in the way she purses her lips and tightens her jaw.

"Okay, I think now's a good time to ask why the fuck you got the word 'berry' tattooed on your wrist. And why it's so... shitty." Mandy says judgmentally as I sigh, lightly rubbing the wrap over my freshly inked wrist.

"You never noticed Mickey's 'blue' tattoo?" I ask and she shakes her head. "He got drunk and some fucker tatted him up again. He asked him for a blue tattoo that said blue." I hesitate on the last part, the words sounding ridiculous as they leave my lips.

"That's idiotic." She mumbles, and I can't help but agree. "So... I still don't know why you got the word berry tattooed on you."

"Blue Berry. Get it?" I ask, and she stares at me as if I told her I assassinated Trump.

"You did that for my asshole brother?" She asks, and I nod confidently. "You really do love that piece of shit."

I smile at myself, but it fades quickly as I think about him being gone, leaving me here all alone. Of course I'm to blame, but I didn't think he'd have taken it to heart with this much consideration. But Mickey is like glass; tough on the outside, but easy to break. Once he's shattered he's sharp of you get too close. Fortunately for me, I was wearing shoes and the shards of glass didn't pierce me like they do everyone else. Once he's broken, he can be fixed but nothing will be how it was before.

What he keeps forgetting is that no matter how much he's being smashed and broken, whether it's me or someone else doing the damage, I'll always be the glue piecing him back together.

"So, what about your love life?" I ask Mandy, whose once smug expression quickly morphs into a frown. "Uh, never mind. Forget I asked. How's the job?"

She sighs in relief, answering, "It pays the rent, but I'm considering going back to college." She tells me as I look over at her and smile wide.

"That's awesome, Mands. If you need help paying for it-"

"Hey. It's okay, Ian. I got it. You've done so much for me."

"Well," I put a hand on her wrist as we pull up at my house, "you know that I'm always here if you ever need anything."

"I love you and thanks. Seriously, thank you." She kisses my cheek and I wrap and awkward arm around her. "Also, don't think about Mickey. He'll come back, he always does, right?" She winks as I get out of the truck, my eyebrows furrowing in sadness.

"But what if he doesn't?" I ask, and she shoots me a glance that screams that's ridiculous! "Think about it. Everyone has a breaking point. I'm being realistic."

"Well stop being realistic. Let yourself have hope sometimes, Ian."

I sigh, replying, "never got me anywhere anyways." I turn, opening the gate and walking into the house. It's desolate and clean, which is fucking strange seeing I live with six others. I hear a buzzing noise and, even though I'm currently devastated, my curiosity gets the best of me and I walk towards it.

I nearly jump as a little Hispanic woman startles the shit out of me, listening to music as she vacuums the floor. She doesn't see me, so I shake my head and head back upstairs. That's some crazy Gallagher shit that I'm not in the mood to deal with, and, frankly, I could care less.

I pace around for a few seconds, and I stop to stare at the shattered mirror leaning against my wall. Mickey hit it out of frustration a while back when I was having an episode, and Lip cracked it further after throwing a whiskey bottle at it in a drunken rage. I think Carl kicked it after Dom cheated on him, too.