• He clutches emptiness. It whispers past his fingertips and dances ever so out of reach. It taunts him. Makes him relive the memory of that nightmare. The nightmare in which he lost his best friend. His lover. His muse. He glances down at the glass that lies shattered across the kitchen floor. “Frankie…What’s all the noise about?” Out comes Gerard. Stumbling in his half sleep haze through the kitchen door. Coffee mug in hand. “Oh man. Sorry about that Gee. Didn’t mean to wake you. Accident.” Frankie gestures to the glass shards at his feet. Gerard frowns then runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “Frankie…be careful.” He tugs gently on the edges of Frankie’s hair. Those edges that curl against his neck in such a delicate way. “Oh Gee stop! I’m not a child” Frankie swipes away Gerard’s hands. Shakes his hair out and continues on his way. Out comes the broom and dust pan. Glass shards emptied away into the trash. He turns. Surprised to find that Gerard hasn’t moved at all. Instead he has set his coffee mug upon the counter and has turned a thoughtful eye to the moon that hangs in the sky. Frankie can feel it. The shift. The ever so slight change in Gerard. The way his hands reach up to delicately finger the locks of hair that dangle in his eyes. Frank can read all these little things. The little things that show the distress in Gerard’s soul that he refuses to let be seen. Frankie turns away from the image. The image of heartbreak and loss. “He’s not coming back. I know that but…I…I want him to come back to me Frankie. I want him here.” Gerard’s voice is a hushed whisper. A delicate trail of words that have whispered past his lips in such a way that can only be felt and heard but not touched. Frank sighs. His carefree demeanor slipping away as he listens to the yearning in Gerard’s voice. He refuses to turn around. He refuses to see the image that he knows will greet him. A lost looking Gerard. A Gerard that appears as if someone has taken away his favorite toy or blanket. He will look like a lost child. Reaching out for a mothers hand and calming embrace. Searching for the promise that his toy will be found and placed back into his hands. He hears it. The slight hitch in Gerard’s breathing. He can see it. He can see the way Gerard will be pressing his hand against his chest. The way tears will roll silently down his cheeks. Gerard needs him. But somehow Frankie cant find the strength to move. To turn around, wrap his arms around Gerard, and tell him everything will be okay. So instead he does something he’s never done before. He leaves. He turns around. Head facing away from Gerard’s body that seems to have found its way onto the kitchen floor where moments before the glass had been. He doesn’t let his eyes stray. Doesn’t let himself see the tear stained cheeks or hear the sound of tears hitting the floor. No…he refuses to be a witness to such misery. Frantic hands and blind eyes guide him out of the apartment. Back resting against the now closed door. The sole barrier between him and the misery on the other side. “I’m so sorry.” Frankie repeats the same words over and over. As if that will fix anything. As if that will right the wrong that he has just committed. To leave Gerard like that. Alone. The silence is overwhelming. It pounds against his ears. He knows not how long he sat like that. For hours? Mintutes? Everything seems to blur together in his mind.
    Shaking. Something is shaking. What is that? Frank Iero opens his eyes slowly. Squinting away from the rays of sunlight that seem to be hell bent on awakening him. His eyes take in the face above him. The pale skin. The black greasy hair.