(no subject)
Now I Buy My Stamps In Bulk Part 1
While they had switched to mainly phone, email and chat to stay in touch, Frank still liked to write Mikey the occasional letter. It meant he got to draw silly things in the margins to make Mikey laugh, and sometimes it helped to write his thoughts out on the page. Sometimes it was easier to find the courage to say something difficult with pen and paper.
Hi Mikey,
I’m not sure whether I’m right about this, and the last thing I want is to look like the world’s biggest tool, but I also don’t want to be too much of a coward to take a risk once in a while, so. Say the word and we’ll pretend this letter never happened.
I’m really glad I got to know you, so glad that months ago Ray and Bob tried to mess with me and posted a letter I wrote while I was too tipsy to have second thoughts. I hope that I’ve been half as good a friend to you that you’ve been to me.
And while I consider you a good friend, I’m starting to think that there might be something more between us? And sometimes I think you feel the same way, but maybe I’m just deluding myself. I know we live on opposite sides of the country and it would be a pain in the ass, but I think things which are worthwhile are still worthwhile even if they’re difficult.
Anyway, like I said, I won’t ever bring this up again if you ask me not to. The idea of sending this makes me really nervous, but last time that worked out pretty well, so I’m going to post this one, and hope.
Frank
********
It was agony to keep acting normal for the two days it would take for Frank’s letter to reach Mikey. Through every email and conversation, Frank resisted the urge to read subtext into every word Mikey said. When he laughed Frank wanted to cheer, and when he sighed Frank wanted to cry.
The third day, Frank went in for his shift at the cafe and Bob looked at him sympathetically, which was unusual enough for Frank to do a double take.
“Hey, Frank,” he said. “How’s Mikey holding up?”
“Huh?” Frank asked, not sure what was going on but aware that he’d missed something.
“You know, with Gerard and everything.”
That didn’t clear anything up at all, so Frank settled for saying “Huh?” again.
Bob looked at Frank, his jaw dropping slightly. “You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?” Frank growled.
Mercifully, Ray picked that moment to walk in from the kitchen and helpfully said, “Gerard’s got a drinking problem. US Weekly did an article on it. Apparently it’s been going on for a while. You didn’t know?”
“Oh, no,” Frank groaned.
The shift passed with agonising slowness. Part of Frank wanted to call Mikey right then and there, and he knew Ray would have given him the time, but Mikey was busy during the day and was probably even more so now that this had happened. Frank made himself wait until he got home that evening.
Frank dialled Mikey’s cell phone as soon as he’d closed his front door. He reached Mikey’s voicemail three times and left a brief message each time asking Mikey to call back.
The fourth time, Mikey picked up. “Frank,” he said, his voice dull and empty.
“Mikey,” Frank said. “I heard about what happened. Is everything okay?”
“Is everything okay?” Mikey asked sceptically. “Do you suddenly care?”
“What?” Frank asked, too shocked to come up with a more intelligent reply. “What do you mean? Why would you ask me that?”
“Why?” Mikey asked. “That’s a good question. Why did you do it?”
“Why did I do... what?” Frank asked slowly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about... wait... is this about my letter? I mean, it was just a thought, we don’t have to, um...” He laughed, a little desperately, but Mikey spoke up and he fell silent.
“No,” Mikey said, scathing. “Why did you blab to that magazine?”
That was too unbelievable for Frank to come up with a reply. He spluttered for a moment, and then Mikey went on impatiently, “Everyone knows! It’s all over his fansites. I just got off a call with our publisher asking if Gerard was up to finishing the series. Why did you do it, was the money too good?”
“I didn’t! Mikey, how can you even... I swear it wasn’t me. Why do you think it was me?”
“Because there’s no-one else. The only other people who knew were me, Gerard and Pete. I know it wasn’t me, and it sure wasn’t Gerard. It wasn’t Pete; his boss is furious with him for keeping the situation to himself, so thanks for that too.”
“I didn’t,” Frank repeated helplessly. “I didn’t tell anyone. Please believe me. I would never... I never even thought of doing that.”
“Why should I believe you?” Mikey asked, and he was actually starting to cry. It tore Frank apart to hear Mikey so upset and know he couldn’t do anything about it, to know that Mikey actually believed Frank was the one who had hurt him so badly. “Gerard is drunk right now. He can’t even stand up straight.”
“Mikey, I’m sorry...”
“He was getting better!” Mikey shouted, sobbing. “He was... you should be sorry. This is your fault!”
“I swear, no one heard about it from me, Mikey. I didn’t even tell my friends, I sure didn’t tell any magazines! I’ve followed Gerard’s comics for years, Mikey. He’s my idol, and I’d never want to hurt you. I love you, I would never do anything like that. Do you think I would? Mikey? Do you really believe I’d do that?”
Frank waited for an answer, but there was none. Mikey was gone.
********
It didn’t seem quite real. Frank looked at his phone for a long time, waiting for something to happen, some sign that it had all just been a terrible joke.
Nothing happened. He tried to send Mikey an email, but Mikey had blocked him. He tried chat with the same results. Text messages went unanswered. Frank sat down to write a letter, but couldn’t get any further than writing Mikey’s name. He couldn’t find any words to adequately describe the way he felt, so hurt and angry and miserable.
He looked around online and found the gossip column and the fansites. It hadn’t been spread around quite as much as Mikey had made out; Gerard wasn’t all that famous outside of comic book circles. The fansites had latched onto the news though, and while there were many messages of support there were just as many scathing and critical comments. Frank winced reading them; he couldn’t imagine being the subject of such scrutiny. He ached for Gerard.
He dragged himself to work the next day, hoping that Ray and Bob wouldn’t notice anything amiss. Of course, his life being what it was, they were onto him as soon as he came through the door.
“Everything alright, Frank?” Ray asked.
“Did you manage to get in touch with Mikey?” asked Bob.
“Mikey thinks I’m the one who went to the magazine. He’s blaming me for the whole thing.”
“Oh, shit,” said Ray, apparently struck speechless.
Bob had a lot more to say. “That little shit! What the fuck is his problem?”
“He’s upset,” said Frank. “It’s an upsetting situation, I can’t really blame him.”
“So? That means he can accuse you like that? We know you never talked to anyone, Frank, you didn’t even tell us.”
Frank nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. It was nice to have friends at his back, reminding him that he was trustworthy after all. He’d been starting to wonder.
When Frank got home that night, he found a letter in his door, probably the last one he would ever get from Mikey. It was postmarked the day after Frank had mailed his last letter.
The letter sat on the kitchen table while Frank tried to decide whether or not to read it. He knew the smart thing to do would just be to throw it away. If he read it he would only be making himself miserable. Eventually, though, he gave in and opened the envelope.
Frank,
Today Gerard and I went to see a movie. Then we got take out and went home to play video games. It was a totally normal day, except that it hasn’t been, for us, for a long time.
The publishers have sorted out their schedule, and now that Gerard’s done writing for the time being, they want him to do a signing tour for the last issue. The first stop is going to be New Jersey. It always is; we like to spend a few days in Belleville so we can see the folks.
So it looks like that means we’re both going to be in the same town in about a month’s time. Uh, I guess maybe you might not be up for it, but I thought it would be really cool for us to meet up, get a coffee or something to eat together. It could be fun. And, well. I don’t know if I’m right about this at all, but I like you a lot, and, well, it doesn’t have to be a date or anything, unless you want it to be? And I think maybe you do? So... that would be good.
Well. Yeah. I hope I haven’t creeped you out or anything, and that you’ll be in touch soon. Take care,
Mikey
The letter sat on Frank’s kitchen table, and for a long time Frank sat there with it. In the small, cheery room, the letter was like a little piece of last Tuesday, before everything was terrible.
********
A few days after that, US Weekly ran a follow up article which made it clear that a lot of different sources had gone into breaking the story. People who’d met Gerard at events, people who’d been to his house. Some clever reporter had put all the pieces together. It turned out the big secret hadn’t been as well kept as Mikey had thought. Frank wanted to feel vindicated by the new revelation, but mostly he just felt frustrated that Mikey’s first reaction had been to blame him. He wondered if Mikey had seen the article, and what he was thinking if he had.
Ray and Bob tried to distract him, but nothing they did helped.
“Want some fries Frankie?”
Frank shook his head. Bob hadn’t burned the fries once since the new deep fryer had arrived. They didn’t taste the same anymore.
********
The days passed with no consideration for Frank’s miserable mood. Every time he went to collect the mail there was a moment where he imagined there might be a letter from Mikey. Every time the phone rang he hoped to hear Mikey’s voice on the other end. He was so used to checking his email and seeing a new one from Mikey right up the top that his inbox just didn’t look right anymore.
Frank hoped it would get better as time passed, but instead it got worse. As Gerard’s signing tour got closer and with it the chance that Mikey would be in Belleville, Frank started to imagine he saw Mikey everywhere. He only had one old, blurry photo, but every glimpse of someone with glasses or wearing a beanie made Frank startle. He tried not to think about Mikey too much, but he found himself returning to the same daydream time after time. He would walk up to his apartment one day, and someone would be by the front door. It would be Mikey, and he would apologise to Frank and beg his forgiveness.
One day, Frank did find someone on his doorstep. It wasn’t Mikey though.
It was Gerard.
********
Frank was aware he should introduce himself, or at least say something, but instead he found himself gaping unattractively. Fortunately, Gerard seemed to recognise him.
“Hey, Frank,” he said casually, with a little wave, like they’d seen one another just the day before rather than this being the first time they’d ever met. “Uh, I’m Gerard? Gerard Way? Oh, I guess you know who I am. Um. I got this address off one of Mikey’s letters. I hope you don’t mind I’m here.”
Frank worked his mouth open and closed several times, and finally managed to say, “It’s fine.”
Gerard looked different than he’d imagined, even after seeing him in interviews and magazines. He was shorter and thinner, and his hair was messier. He was never completely still, fidgeting with his hands and feet and never letting his eyes settle in one place for too long.
“So... how are you?” Frank asked.
“Doing alright,” Gerard nodded. “Four weeks sober, now. Had a bit of a setback, but I’m getting there.”
“That’s good,” Frank said awkwardly. Gerard didn’t seem to have any qualms talking about his alcoholism, but Frank still felt like he was hearing things not meant for his ears.
“Listen,” said Gerard at last. “I’m here because of Mikey. He, um, I think he wanted to come, but he felt like he’d lost the right, and maybe you don’t want to see me either, but I’m a much bigger asshole than Mikey, so here I am.”
“Okay,” said Frank uncertainly. “Uh... do you want to come inside?” If Gerard was set on having a serious conversation, Frank’s front doorway probably wasn’t the place to have it.
“Thanks,” said Gerard. They went into the apartment and Frank made coffee.
“Mikey, you know, he feels terrible,” Gerard said once they were seated with their drinks. “I told him he should come around while we were in town and talk to you, but I think he thought you might not want to see him. And, I mean, maybe you don’t. I guess you must be pretty mad about what he said, but it wasn’t his fault.”
Frank blinked slowly. “I’d be happy to talk to Mikey,” he said slowly. “But I sort of wish he’d come to see me himself.”
Gerard nodded. “It was my fault, really,” he said to Frank earnestly. “When we heard what had happened, I...” Gerard trailed off and flushed. “It was me who said you must have talked to the magazine. Mikey defended you, but... I was pretty harsh. Angry. I said some awful things to Mikey, about him and about you. I’m sorry.”
For a moment Frank was taken aback by the blunt admission and apology. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Come with me? See Mikey? I guess you’ve got no reason to, but Mikey’s miserable and I hoped if I explained, you could forgive him. Give him another chance. Please?”
It took Frank a long time to answer, but he knew as soon as Gerard asked him exactly what he was going to do.
********
Gerard drove Frank to his parents’ house, where he and Mikey were staying while they were in Belleville. Frank loved his Mom, but if he was hugely wealthy and successful, he’d stay in an exorbitantly expensive hotel while he visited his hometown. It was also super awkward when Gerard introduced Frank to his Mom and Dad and they greeted him like an old friend. Frank wondered exactly how much they knew about him. They ushered Frank through to the living room, where they said Mikey was waiting.
Mikey was sitting facing the TV, with his back to the door, holding a Nintendo controller. On the TV screen, Mario was facing down a heap of koopas, but Mikey wasn’t paying attention, and while Frank watched Mario got flattened.
“Hey, Mikes,” Gerard said softly.
“Hey, Gee,” Mikey replied while the game over screen flashed up. His monotone was sounding particularly flat today.
“Mikey, there’s someone who wants to see you.”
“Gee,” Mikey groaned, “I’m really not...”
“Just come here, Mikey.”
Mikey sighed and stood up from the couch. He turned around, and that was when he saw Frank. He stilled, his eyes widening slightly and his jaw dropping just a little.
“Frank...?” he whispered.
“I’m gonna help Mom with dinner,” said Gerard quickly, slipping out of the room and shutting the door behind him.
Frank twisted his hands nervously together. This wasn’t how he would have liked to meet Mikey. He was a mess, dressed in scruffy clothes, with hair going in every direction and huge shadows under his eyes which his glasses only partly hid. He was thin and looked worn, and while Frank didn’t know Mikey well enough to know when he didn’t look like himself, he couldn’t help feeling worried about him.
“Frank,” said Mikey again. “I didn’t know Gerard was going to drag you over here. I should have... I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” said Frank, reflexively, because that was what you said when someone apologised. Mikey barely reacted.
“I can’t believe... I’m probably the last person you want to see.”
“Mikey...”
“I’m sorry about what I said. I know that’s not enough. But I was wrong to say that, and I want you to know I’m sorry.”
Frank hesitated. He’d been hurt, deeply hurt, by Mikey’s accusations, and even while he’d missed Mikey terribly and had wanted to prove he had done nothing wrong, he hadn’t been sure he’d be able to forgive. It was different, though, now that he could see for himself how much Mikey was hurting. Frank found it harder to hold onto his anger.
“Listen, Mikey,” said Frank. “I was hurt a lot by the things you said. You wouldn’t listen to me. You didn’t even seem to consider that you might be wrong, you just assumed...”
“I’m sorry,” said Mikey again.
“But I know you were hurting and scared. You didn’t mean it, I get that. I just, I hope next time you’ll listen to me. Trust me.”
“Next time?” Mikey murmured, just as Gerard stuck his head back through the door.
“Hey Frank, Mom wanted me to ask if you want to stay for dinner?”
“Oh...” said Frank, surprised.
“Oh, no,” Mikey said at once. “Come on, Gee, stop... Frank, you don’t feel like you have to stay. You’ve probably got plans.”
“It’s just an invitation, Mikey,” said Gerard. “Frank doesn’t have to stay if he doesn’t want to.”
Mikey glared at Gerard for a second before apparently deciding to ignore him. He turned his gaze on Frank and said, “Gee has this idea that you should forgive me and everything should just go back like it was and it will all be perfect, because he’s a hopeless optimist who still believes in the Easter Bunny. But. You know, the real world doesn’t work like that, and I know how pushy Gerard can be, but if you don’t want to stay I promise I’ll get him to back off.”
“Wow, Mikey, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Gerard was saying behind Frank. Frank looked closely at Mikey’s face.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked gently.
Mikey twitched and looked away. His mouth worked a bit, but he didn’t reply. Frank tried to guess what Mikey was thinking; whether he had decided he wanted nothing to do with Frank at all, or if he had just convinced himself that he had ruined their chances of being together. If that was the case, Frank would just have to show him otherwise.
“I’ll stay,” said Frank decisively. “Of course I’ll stay.” He might have imagined it, but he thought Mikey seemed relieved.
********
Dinner with Mikey and Gerard and their parents was not as awkward as Frank had expected. It was still a little awkward, because the dinner was beef stew, and so Frank had to make do with steamed vegetables and a bread roll. He could tell Mikey’s mom felt bad at having nothing else to offer him, and that made him feel terrible because he had just dropped in unannounced. Donna and Donald also wanted to know all about him and how he knew Gerard and Mikey, and that was a story Frank wasn’t sure how to tell. Gerard helped by telling a slightly edited version. Frank sort of wanted to kiss him, but he wanted to kiss Mikey more.
After the meal, Gerard offered to help clean up. Frank would have followed suit, but he gathered that this was highly unusual behaviour for Gerard, and therefore probably a ploy to give him and Mikey some more time alone together.
Mikey hadn’t finished his roll. He sat there fiddling with it, oblivious to the shower of crumbs raining down on his placemat. He glanced at Frank from the corner of his eyes and licked his bottom lip. Frank wanted to reach out and touch it, but Mikey started to say something, so he held still and listened.
“Do you have to get going soon?” Mikey asked.
Frank shrugged. “I don’t have any plans or anything,” he said. “But I guess I’ve imposed long enough.”
“We don’t mind,” Mikey said quickly. “But I guess...” he laughed and put his face in his hands. “When I pictured meeting you, I never imagined it would be this awkward. Guess I totally fucked that up.”
“Aw, Mikey. I don’t... do you want me to stick around? I can’t figure out what will help, or not. If you want me to go...”
“No! I mean, um.” Mikey looked trapped. “I just can’t figure out why you’d want anything to do with me. After what I said.”
Frank was starting to feel frustrated. “Since I’m still here, can we just assume that I do, and work from there?”
Mikey just looked at him like Frank was speaking another language, so Frank sighed and continued. “Right, okay. Do you want to do something tomorrow? With me? We could eat food together. I hear people like to do that sometimes.”
Mikey blinked slowly and nodded. “That would be nice.”
**************
They agreed to meet for lunch the next day. Frank was suddenly nervous about how to dress and what to say, even though Mikey had seemed to like him just fine the night before, when he was wearing ripped jeans and a faded t-shirt. Folding his arms and glaring in the general direction of his closet did not cause it to fill with clean clothes, so Frank ended up wearing jeans which were only slightly more whole than the ones he’d worn the day before. He dithered over choosing between a button down and another t-shirt until he was ten minutes late, then pulled the t-shirt on and put the button down over it.
Frank had suggested the restaurant; they had a great menu and the service was always good. He went there often enough that the waiters knew what his order would be as soon as he sat down, but Mikey took a few minutes to decide. Once that was done, neither of them seemed able to find anything to say. Frank was over it.
“You know what Ray wants to do now that he’s getting his money back?” Frank asked, and that was it. At Mikey’s quirked eyebrow of interest, he launched into the story, which was actually kind of dull and involved repainting the front room of the cafe. Frank added some zombies to make it more interesting, and Mikey seemed intrigued.
When the atmosphere had eased a little, Frank ventured to asking about Gerard’s work. “I guess you managed to sort things out with your publishers?” he asked. “I mean, since the signing tour went ahead and everything.”
Mikey grimaced, shaking his head. “They’re being assholes,” he said, scowling. “I mean, they can’t actually do anything to Gerard, and they can’t actually fire Pete, either, although I think they’d like to. They’re just making things difficult. We’re all pretty pissed off about it.”
“That sucks.”
“Well, we’ve been talking about what we might like to do. Pete’s got a few ideas, so... it might not be an issue for much longer.
“Good?” Frank ventured, smiling a little at Mikey’s mysterious words. “I hope you’re right.”
After lunch, Mikey was keen to order coffee, but Frank persuaded him to walk the two blocks to the cafe and get Ray to make the coffee instead. “It’s really good,” Frank promised. “Totally worth it. You’ll thank me.”
Frank led Mikey down the street to the cafe where he introduced him to Ray and Bob. He was totally not smug at all about it.
“Hey guys, you know who this is? It’s Mikey Way, Gerard Way’s brother. You know, Gerard Way? This is his brother, Mikey. We’re on a date.”
“Shut up, asshole, I sounded nothing like that!”
“You totally did,” Bob insisted, while Ray nodded sagely beside him. They were both jerks. Frank hoped his blush wasn’t too visible and grabbed the two coffees to take to the table where Mikey was waiting.
“Sorry about my stupid friends,” Frank grumbled as he pushed Mikey’s coffee towards him.
Mikey chuckled. “They seem okay.”
“Yeah, sure, if you gag them.” Frank looked over to the counter where he could see Ray filling a couple of plates with slice. He was pretty sure it was for him and Mikey, because one of the plates held the fruit slice that no one else ever ate. Sure enough, Ray brought the plates to their table. Ray was a soft touch.
“Thanks,” said Frank, forgiving Ray for his mockery with the enticement of free food.
“I love the diner,” said Mikey, gesturing around the room. “You’ve got it set up really well.”
“Thanks, man,” said Ray, grinning. Frank knew he loved the diner, no matter how much he might complain about it on any given day.
“You might want to rethink the zombie mural, though, if you want people to eat in here.”
“Uh... thanks for the tip,” said Ray, easing away and looking at Frank sharply. Frank, for his part, affected a deep interest in his fruit slice. It wasn’t completely fake; Bob had added mandarin this time and it tasted awesome.
“Okay, this coffee was totally worth the walk,” Mikey admitted after a minute. “I’d drag Gerard down here if we weren’t leaving tomorrow.”
The words effectively killed Frank’s good mood. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”
“Oh... yeah.” Mikey looked up at Frank over the rim of his coffee cup, holding himself oddly still.
“Right,” said Frank quickly. “You’ve gotta carry on with the signing tour, I guess.”
“Pretty much,” Mikey agreed. He put the coffee cup down and focused his gaze on the table. “We’re gonna come back to New Jersey once we’re done, though.”
“You are?”
“Yeah.” Mikey sat back in his chair and deliberately avoided Frank’s eyes. “Gerard and I talked. While he’s getting himself back together, we’re going to spend a few months here. It’s just, it’s home, you know?”
“Yeah?” Frank replied, trying to keep his voice even and prevent it from going all squeaky and high pitched like it wanted to. “Are you going to stay with your parents?”
“Nah. Well, I think Gee would be happy to go right back to living in Mom and Dad’s basement, but Mom’s not going to stand for it. We’ll look for an apartment somewhere.”
“Cool,” said Frank, carefully.
Mikey looked at Frank at last, hope on his face. “So, I guess that means we could do something like this again. If you wanted to,” he said.
“I do,” said Frank. “I would. I’m not sure how you haven’t realised, Mikey, but I sort of like you a whole lot.”
Frank thought he’d probably forgive Mikey for just about anything if he’d keep smiling like that.
********
Yo, Frank,
Gerard is sober for three months on Wednesday, and he’s demanding cake. Pete finally found an office he can rent in LA so he can try to get his publishing company off the ground, and he wants cake too. I’m thinking chocolate, but Pete is insisting on devil’s food. If we can’t agree, we’re going to wind up with two cakes, and there’s only three of us.
I’m glad Ray liked Gerard’s suggestions for his cafe mural. The zombies are still there, but less in your face. Probably won’t put anyone off their food. I hope Ray’s not jumping into the painting part already, I think Gee’s pretty keen to help with that when we get back.
We’re going to reach Seattle tomorrow. Gerard’s got an interview, two Q&A’s, and then the signing. We’ll be flying back to Jersey on Friday, late. Flying makes me miserable, but if you wanted to do something on Saturday, I could probably be persuaded.
Mikey
While they had switched to mainly phone, email and chat to stay in touch, Frank still liked to write Mikey the occasional letter. It meant he got to draw silly things in the margins to make Mikey laugh, and sometimes it helped to write his thoughts out on the page. Sometimes it was easier to find the courage to say something difficult with pen and paper.
Hi Mikey,
I’m not sure whether I’m right about this, and the last thing I want is to look like the world’s biggest tool, but I also don’t want to be too much of a coward to take a risk once in a while, so. Say the word and we’ll pretend this letter never happened.
I’m really glad I got to know you, so glad that months ago Ray and Bob tried to mess with me and posted a letter I wrote while I was too tipsy to have second thoughts. I hope that I’ve been half as good a friend to you that you’ve been to me.
And while I consider you a good friend, I’m starting to think that there might be something more between us? And sometimes I think you feel the same way, but maybe I’m just deluding myself. I know we live on opposite sides of the country and it would be a pain in the ass, but I think things which are worthwhile are still worthwhile even if they’re difficult.
Anyway, like I said, I won’t ever bring this up again if you ask me not to. The idea of sending this makes me really nervous, but last time that worked out pretty well, so I’m going to post this one, and hope.
Frank
********
It was agony to keep acting normal for the two days it would take for Frank’s letter to reach Mikey. Through every email and conversation, Frank resisted the urge to read subtext into every word Mikey said. When he laughed Frank wanted to cheer, and when he sighed Frank wanted to cry.
The third day, Frank went in for his shift at the cafe and Bob looked at him sympathetically, which was unusual enough for Frank to do a double take.
“Hey, Frank,” he said. “How’s Mikey holding up?”
“Huh?” Frank asked, not sure what was going on but aware that he’d missed something.
“You know, with Gerard and everything.”
That didn’t clear anything up at all, so Frank settled for saying “Huh?” again.
Bob looked at Frank, his jaw dropping slightly. “You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?” Frank growled.
Mercifully, Ray picked that moment to walk in from the kitchen and helpfully said, “Gerard’s got a drinking problem. US Weekly did an article on it. Apparently it’s been going on for a while. You didn’t know?”
“Oh, no,” Frank groaned.
The shift passed with agonising slowness. Part of Frank wanted to call Mikey right then and there, and he knew Ray would have given him the time, but Mikey was busy during the day and was probably even more so now that this had happened. Frank made himself wait until he got home that evening.
Frank dialled Mikey’s cell phone as soon as he’d closed his front door. He reached Mikey’s voicemail three times and left a brief message each time asking Mikey to call back.
The fourth time, Mikey picked up. “Frank,” he said, his voice dull and empty.
“Mikey,” Frank said. “I heard about what happened. Is everything okay?”
“Is everything okay?” Mikey asked sceptically. “Do you suddenly care?”
“What?” Frank asked, too shocked to come up with a more intelligent reply. “What do you mean? Why would you ask me that?”
“Why?” Mikey asked. “That’s a good question. Why did you do it?”
“Why did I do... what?” Frank asked slowly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about... wait... is this about my letter? I mean, it was just a thought, we don’t have to, um...” He laughed, a little desperately, but Mikey spoke up and he fell silent.
“No,” Mikey said, scathing. “Why did you blab to that magazine?”
That was too unbelievable for Frank to come up with a reply. He spluttered for a moment, and then Mikey went on impatiently, “Everyone knows! It’s all over his fansites. I just got off a call with our publisher asking if Gerard was up to finishing the series. Why did you do it, was the money too good?”
“I didn’t! Mikey, how can you even... I swear it wasn’t me. Why do you think it was me?”
“Because there’s no-one else. The only other people who knew were me, Gerard and Pete. I know it wasn’t me, and it sure wasn’t Gerard. It wasn’t Pete; his boss is furious with him for keeping the situation to himself, so thanks for that too.”
“I didn’t,” Frank repeated helplessly. “I didn’t tell anyone. Please believe me. I would never... I never even thought of doing that.”
“Why should I believe you?” Mikey asked, and he was actually starting to cry. It tore Frank apart to hear Mikey so upset and know he couldn’t do anything about it, to know that Mikey actually believed Frank was the one who had hurt him so badly. “Gerard is drunk right now. He can’t even stand up straight.”
“Mikey, I’m sorry...”
“He was getting better!” Mikey shouted, sobbing. “He was... you should be sorry. This is your fault!”
“I swear, no one heard about it from me, Mikey. I didn’t even tell my friends, I sure didn’t tell any magazines! I’ve followed Gerard’s comics for years, Mikey. He’s my idol, and I’d never want to hurt you. I love you, I would never do anything like that. Do you think I would? Mikey? Do you really believe I’d do that?”
Frank waited for an answer, but there was none. Mikey was gone.
********
It didn’t seem quite real. Frank looked at his phone for a long time, waiting for something to happen, some sign that it had all just been a terrible joke.
Nothing happened. He tried to send Mikey an email, but Mikey had blocked him. He tried chat with the same results. Text messages went unanswered. Frank sat down to write a letter, but couldn’t get any further than writing Mikey’s name. He couldn’t find any words to adequately describe the way he felt, so hurt and angry and miserable.
He looked around online and found the gossip column and the fansites. It hadn’t been spread around quite as much as Mikey had made out; Gerard wasn’t all that famous outside of comic book circles. The fansites had latched onto the news though, and while there were many messages of support there were just as many scathing and critical comments. Frank winced reading them; he couldn’t imagine being the subject of such scrutiny. He ached for Gerard.
He dragged himself to work the next day, hoping that Ray and Bob wouldn’t notice anything amiss. Of course, his life being what it was, they were onto him as soon as he came through the door.
“Everything alright, Frank?” Ray asked.
“Did you manage to get in touch with Mikey?” asked Bob.
“Mikey thinks I’m the one who went to the magazine. He’s blaming me for the whole thing.”
“Oh, shit,” said Ray, apparently struck speechless.
Bob had a lot more to say. “That little shit! What the fuck is his problem?”
“He’s upset,” said Frank. “It’s an upsetting situation, I can’t really blame him.”
“So? That means he can accuse you like that? We know you never talked to anyone, Frank, you didn’t even tell us.”
Frank nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. It was nice to have friends at his back, reminding him that he was trustworthy after all. He’d been starting to wonder.
When Frank got home that night, he found a letter in his door, probably the last one he would ever get from Mikey. It was postmarked the day after Frank had mailed his last letter.
The letter sat on the kitchen table while Frank tried to decide whether or not to read it. He knew the smart thing to do would just be to throw it away. If he read it he would only be making himself miserable. Eventually, though, he gave in and opened the envelope.
Frank,
Today Gerard and I went to see a movie. Then we got take out and went home to play video games. It was a totally normal day, except that it hasn’t been, for us, for a long time.
The publishers have sorted out their schedule, and now that Gerard’s done writing for the time being, they want him to do a signing tour for the last issue. The first stop is going to be New Jersey. It always is; we like to spend a few days in Belleville so we can see the folks.
So it looks like that means we’re both going to be in the same town in about a month’s time. Uh, I guess maybe you might not be up for it, but I thought it would be really cool for us to meet up, get a coffee or something to eat together. It could be fun. And, well. I don’t know if I’m right about this at all, but I like you a lot, and, well, it doesn’t have to be a date or anything, unless you want it to be? And I think maybe you do? So... that would be good.
Well. Yeah. I hope I haven’t creeped you out or anything, and that you’ll be in touch soon. Take care,
Mikey
The letter sat on Frank’s kitchen table, and for a long time Frank sat there with it. In the small, cheery room, the letter was like a little piece of last Tuesday, before everything was terrible.
********
A few days after that, US Weekly ran a follow up article which made it clear that a lot of different sources had gone into breaking the story. People who’d met Gerard at events, people who’d been to his house. Some clever reporter had put all the pieces together. It turned out the big secret hadn’t been as well kept as Mikey had thought. Frank wanted to feel vindicated by the new revelation, but mostly he just felt frustrated that Mikey’s first reaction had been to blame him. He wondered if Mikey had seen the article, and what he was thinking if he had.
Ray and Bob tried to distract him, but nothing they did helped.
“Want some fries Frankie?”
Frank shook his head. Bob hadn’t burned the fries once since the new deep fryer had arrived. They didn’t taste the same anymore.
********
The days passed with no consideration for Frank’s miserable mood. Every time he went to collect the mail there was a moment where he imagined there might be a letter from Mikey. Every time the phone rang he hoped to hear Mikey’s voice on the other end. He was so used to checking his email and seeing a new one from Mikey right up the top that his inbox just didn’t look right anymore.
Frank hoped it would get better as time passed, but instead it got worse. As Gerard’s signing tour got closer and with it the chance that Mikey would be in Belleville, Frank started to imagine he saw Mikey everywhere. He only had one old, blurry photo, but every glimpse of someone with glasses or wearing a beanie made Frank startle. He tried not to think about Mikey too much, but he found himself returning to the same daydream time after time. He would walk up to his apartment one day, and someone would be by the front door. It would be Mikey, and he would apologise to Frank and beg his forgiveness.
One day, Frank did find someone on his doorstep. It wasn’t Mikey though.
It was Gerard.
********
Frank was aware he should introduce himself, or at least say something, but instead he found himself gaping unattractively. Fortunately, Gerard seemed to recognise him.
“Hey, Frank,” he said casually, with a little wave, like they’d seen one another just the day before rather than this being the first time they’d ever met. “Uh, I’m Gerard? Gerard Way? Oh, I guess you know who I am. Um. I got this address off one of Mikey’s letters. I hope you don’t mind I’m here.”
Frank worked his mouth open and closed several times, and finally managed to say, “It’s fine.”
Gerard looked different than he’d imagined, even after seeing him in interviews and magazines. He was shorter and thinner, and his hair was messier. He was never completely still, fidgeting with his hands and feet and never letting his eyes settle in one place for too long.
“So... how are you?” Frank asked.
“Doing alright,” Gerard nodded. “Four weeks sober, now. Had a bit of a setback, but I’m getting there.”
“That’s good,” Frank said awkwardly. Gerard didn’t seem to have any qualms talking about his alcoholism, but Frank still felt like he was hearing things not meant for his ears.
“Listen,” said Gerard at last. “I’m here because of Mikey. He, um, I think he wanted to come, but he felt like he’d lost the right, and maybe you don’t want to see me either, but I’m a much bigger asshole than Mikey, so here I am.”
“Okay,” said Frank uncertainly. “Uh... do you want to come inside?” If Gerard was set on having a serious conversation, Frank’s front doorway probably wasn’t the place to have it.
“Thanks,” said Gerard. They went into the apartment and Frank made coffee.
“Mikey, you know, he feels terrible,” Gerard said once they were seated with their drinks. “I told him he should come around while we were in town and talk to you, but I think he thought you might not want to see him. And, I mean, maybe you don’t. I guess you must be pretty mad about what he said, but it wasn’t his fault.”
Frank blinked slowly. “I’d be happy to talk to Mikey,” he said slowly. “But I sort of wish he’d come to see me himself.”
Gerard nodded. “It was my fault, really,” he said to Frank earnestly. “When we heard what had happened, I...” Gerard trailed off and flushed. “It was me who said you must have talked to the magazine. Mikey defended you, but... I was pretty harsh. Angry. I said some awful things to Mikey, about him and about you. I’m sorry.”
For a moment Frank was taken aback by the blunt admission and apology. “What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Come with me? See Mikey? I guess you’ve got no reason to, but Mikey’s miserable and I hoped if I explained, you could forgive him. Give him another chance. Please?”
It took Frank a long time to answer, but he knew as soon as Gerard asked him exactly what he was going to do.
********
Gerard drove Frank to his parents’ house, where he and Mikey were staying while they were in Belleville. Frank loved his Mom, but if he was hugely wealthy and successful, he’d stay in an exorbitantly expensive hotel while he visited his hometown. It was also super awkward when Gerard introduced Frank to his Mom and Dad and they greeted him like an old friend. Frank wondered exactly how much they knew about him. They ushered Frank through to the living room, where they said Mikey was waiting.
Mikey was sitting facing the TV, with his back to the door, holding a Nintendo controller. On the TV screen, Mario was facing down a heap of koopas, but Mikey wasn’t paying attention, and while Frank watched Mario got flattened.
“Hey, Mikes,” Gerard said softly.
“Hey, Gee,” Mikey replied while the game over screen flashed up. His monotone was sounding particularly flat today.
“Mikey, there’s someone who wants to see you.”
“Gee,” Mikey groaned, “I’m really not...”
“Just come here, Mikey.”
Mikey sighed and stood up from the couch. He turned around, and that was when he saw Frank. He stilled, his eyes widening slightly and his jaw dropping just a little.
“Frank...?” he whispered.
“I’m gonna help Mom with dinner,” said Gerard quickly, slipping out of the room and shutting the door behind him.
Frank twisted his hands nervously together. This wasn’t how he would have liked to meet Mikey. He was a mess, dressed in scruffy clothes, with hair going in every direction and huge shadows under his eyes which his glasses only partly hid. He was thin and looked worn, and while Frank didn’t know Mikey well enough to know when he didn’t look like himself, he couldn’t help feeling worried about him.
“Frank,” said Mikey again. “I didn’t know Gerard was going to drag you over here. I should have... I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” said Frank, reflexively, because that was what you said when someone apologised. Mikey barely reacted.
“I can’t believe... I’m probably the last person you want to see.”
“Mikey...”
“I’m sorry about what I said. I know that’s not enough. But I was wrong to say that, and I want you to know I’m sorry.”
Frank hesitated. He’d been hurt, deeply hurt, by Mikey’s accusations, and even while he’d missed Mikey terribly and had wanted to prove he had done nothing wrong, he hadn’t been sure he’d be able to forgive. It was different, though, now that he could see for himself how much Mikey was hurting. Frank found it harder to hold onto his anger.
“Listen, Mikey,” said Frank. “I was hurt a lot by the things you said. You wouldn’t listen to me. You didn’t even seem to consider that you might be wrong, you just assumed...”
“I’m sorry,” said Mikey again.
“But I know you were hurting and scared. You didn’t mean it, I get that. I just, I hope next time you’ll listen to me. Trust me.”
“Next time?” Mikey murmured, just as Gerard stuck his head back through the door.
“Hey Frank, Mom wanted me to ask if you want to stay for dinner?”
“Oh...” said Frank, surprised.
“Oh, no,” Mikey said at once. “Come on, Gee, stop... Frank, you don’t feel like you have to stay. You’ve probably got plans.”
“It’s just an invitation, Mikey,” said Gerard. “Frank doesn’t have to stay if he doesn’t want to.”
Mikey glared at Gerard for a second before apparently deciding to ignore him. He turned his gaze on Frank and said, “Gee has this idea that you should forgive me and everything should just go back like it was and it will all be perfect, because he’s a hopeless optimist who still believes in the Easter Bunny. But. You know, the real world doesn’t work like that, and I know how pushy Gerard can be, but if you don’t want to stay I promise I’ll get him to back off.”
“Wow, Mikey, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Gerard was saying behind Frank. Frank looked closely at Mikey’s face.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked gently.
Mikey twitched and looked away. His mouth worked a bit, but he didn’t reply. Frank tried to guess what Mikey was thinking; whether he had decided he wanted nothing to do with Frank at all, or if he had just convinced himself that he had ruined their chances of being together. If that was the case, Frank would just have to show him otherwise.
“I’ll stay,” said Frank decisively. “Of course I’ll stay.” He might have imagined it, but he thought Mikey seemed relieved.
********
Dinner with Mikey and Gerard and their parents was not as awkward as Frank had expected. It was still a little awkward, because the dinner was beef stew, and so Frank had to make do with steamed vegetables and a bread roll. He could tell Mikey’s mom felt bad at having nothing else to offer him, and that made him feel terrible because he had just dropped in unannounced. Donna and Donald also wanted to know all about him and how he knew Gerard and Mikey, and that was a story Frank wasn’t sure how to tell. Gerard helped by telling a slightly edited version. Frank sort of wanted to kiss him, but he wanted to kiss Mikey more.
After the meal, Gerard offered to help clean up. Frank would have followed suit, but he gathered that this was highly unusual behaviour for Gerard, and therefore probably a ploy to give him and Mikey some more time alone together.
Mikey hadn’t finished his roll. He sat there fiddling with it, oblivious to the shower of crumbs raining down on his placemat. He glanced at Frank from the corner of his eyes and licked his bottom lip. Frank wanted to reach out and touch it, but Mikey started to say something, so he held still and listened.
“Do you have to get going soon?” Mikey asked.
Frank shrugged. “I don’t have any plans or anything,” he said. “But I guess I’ve imposed long enough.”
“We don’t mind,” Mikey said quickly. “But I guess...” he laughed and put his face in his hands. “When I pictured meeting you, I never imagined it would be this awkward. Guess I totally fucked that up.”
“Aw, Mikey. I don’t... do you want me to stick around? I can’t figure out what will help, or not. If you want me to go...”
“No! I mean, um.” Mikey looked trapped. “I just can’t figure out why you’d want anything to do with me. After what I said.”
Frank was starting to feel frustrated. “Since I’m still here, can we just assume that I do, and work from there?”
Mikey just looked at him like Frank was speaking another language, so Frank sighed and continued. “Right, okay. Do you want to do something tomorrow? With me? We could eat food together. I hear people like to do that sometimes.”
Mikey blinked slowly and nodded. “That would be nice.”
**************
They agreed to meet for lunch the next day. Frank was suddenly nervous about how to dress and what to say, even though Mikey had seemed to like him just fine the night before, when he was wearing ripped jeans and a faded t-shirt. Folding his arms and glaring in the general direction of his closet did not cause it to fill with clean clothes, so Frank ended up wearing jeans which were only slightly more whole than the ones he’d worn the day before. He dithered over choosing between a button down and another t-shirt until he was ten minutes late, then pulled the t-shirt on and put the button down over it.
Frank had suggested the restaurant; they had a great menu and the service was always good. He went there often enough that the waiters knew what his order would be as soon as he sat down, but Mikey took a few minutes to decide. Once that was done, neither of them seemed able to find anything to say. Frank was over it.
“You know what Ray wants to do now that he’s getting his money back?” Frank asked, and that was it. At Mikey’s quirked eyebrow of interest, he launched into the story, which was actually kind of dull and involved repainting the front room of the cafe. Frank added some zombies to make it more interesting, and Mikey seemed intrigued.
When the atmosphere had eased a little, Frank ventured to asking about Gerard’s work. “I guess you managed to sort things out with your publishers?” he asked. “I mean, since the signing tour went ahead and everything.”
Mikey grimaced, shaking his head. “They’re being assholes,” he said, scowling. “I mean, they can’t actually do anything to Gerard, and they can’t actually fire Pete, either, although I think they’d like to. They’re just making things difficult. We’re all pretty pissed off about it.”
“That sucks.”
“Well, we’ve been talking about what we might like to do. Pete’s got a few ideas, so... it might not be an issue for much longer.
“Good?” Frank ventured, smiling a little at Mikey’s mysterious words. “I hope you’re right.”
After lunch, Mikey was keen to order coffee, but Frank persuaded him to walk the two blocks to the cafe and get Ray to make the coffee instead. “It’s really good,” Frank promised. “Totally worth it. You’ll thank me.”
Frank led Mikey down the street to the cafe where he introduced him to Ray and Bob. He was totally not smug at all about it.
“Hey guys, you know who this is? It’s Mikey Way, Gerard Way’s brother. You know, Gerard Way? This is his brother, Mikey. We’re on a date.”
“Shut up, asshole, I sounded nothing like that!”
“You totally did,” Bob insisted, while Ray nodded sagely beside him. They were both jerks. Frank hoped his blush wasn’t too visible and grabbed the two coffees to take to the table where Mikey was waiting.
“Sorry about my stupid friends,” Frank grumbled as he pushed Mikey’s coffee towards him.
Mikey chuckled. “They seem okay.”
“Yeah, sure, if you gag them.” Frank looked over to the counter where he could see Ray filling a couple of plates with slice. He was pretty sure it was for him and Mikey, because one of the plates held the fruit slice that no one else ever ate. Sure enough, Ray brought the plates to their table. Ray was a soft touch.
“Thanks,” said Frank, forgiving Ray for his mockery with the enticement of free food.
“I love the diner,” said Mikey, gesturing around the room. “You’ve got it set up really well.”
“Thanks, man,” said Ray, grinning. Frank knew he loved the diner, no matter how much he might complain about it on any given day.
“You might want to rethink the zombie mural, though, if you want people to eat in here.”
“Uh... thanks for the tip,” said Ray, easing away and looking at Frank sharply. Frank, for his part, affected a deep interest in his fruit slice. It wasn’t completely fake; Bob had added mandarin this time and it tasted awesome.
“Okay, this coffee was totally worth the walk,” Mikey admitted after a minute. “I’d drag Gerard down here if we weren’t leaving tomorrow.”
The words effectively killed Frank’s good mood. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”
“Oh... yeah.” Mikey looked up at Frank over the rim of his coffee cup, holding himself oddly still.
“Right,” said Frank quickly. “You’ve gotta carry on with the signing tour, I guess.”
“Pretty much,” Mikey agreed. He put the coffee cup down and focused his gaze on the table. “We’re gonna come back to New Jersey once we’re done, though.”
“You are?”
“Yeah.” Mikey sat back in his chair and deliberately avoided Frank’s eyes. “Gerard and I talked. While he’s getting himself back together, we’re going to spend a few months here. It’s just, it’s home, you know?”
“Yeah?” Frank replied, trying to keep his voice even and prevent it from going all squeaky and high pitched like it wanted to. “Are you going to stay with your parents?”
“Nah. Well, I think Gee would be happy to go right back to living in Mom and Dad’s basement, but Mom’s not going to stand for it. We’ll look for an apartment somewhere.”
“Cool,” said Frank, carefully.
Mikey looked at Frank at last, hope on his face. “So, I guess that means we could do something like this again. If you wanted to,” he said.
“I do,” said Frank. “I would. I’m not sure how you haven’t realised, Mikey, but I sort of like you a whole lot.”
Frank thought he’d probably forgive Mikey for just about anything if he’d keep smiling like that.
********
Yo, Frank,
Gerard is sober for three months on Wednesday, and he’s demanding cake. Pete finally found an office he can rent in LA so he can try to get his publishing company off the ground, and he wants cake too. I’m thinking chocolate, but Pete is insisting on devil’s food. If we can’t agree, we’re going to wind up with two cakes, and there’s only three of us.
I’m glad Ray liked Gerard’s suggestions for his cafe mural. The zombies are still there, but less in your face. Probably won’t put anyone off their food. I hope Ray’s not jumping into the painting part already, I think Gee’s pretty keen to help with that when we get back.
We’re going to reach Seattle tomorrow. Gerard’s got an interview, two Q&A’s, and then the signing. We’ll be flying back to Jersey on Friday, late. Flying makes me miserable, but if you wanted to do something on Saturday, I could probably be persuaded.
Mikey