Happy in my reality
My first attempt at writing....be gentle with me!!!
Mikeys P.O.V
I heard the front door click closed, followed by footsteps fading down the drive. My parents were going out for the evening. Some Uncle’s birthday Mum had said, either way it would be the early hours before they were home. I turned on the TV and flicked the channels, from music to cookery in 20 taps. Yep, I was bored. Gerard was still holed up in his basement bedroom. I hadn’t actually seen him for a few days, he was quite stealthy in his comings and goings, in fact, sometimes you only knew he had been in from the food remnants on the kitchen counter. I was quite sure he was avoiding me and I thought I knew why. Gerard and I had always been close, but lately things had changed between us.
It started when I bought Claire home. She was a cute girl Id met in a club. We were sat on the sofa in the living room, nothing serious, just kissing and stuff when Gerard walked in on us. He made me jump actually, I recall giggling with embarrassment. I stood up and introduced Claire to him but he was acting all weird. He growled something about “getting a fucking room” and stormed downstairs to his basement. I was stunned. He was usually quite a cool guy and losing his temper like that with me was virtually unheard of.
After Claire had gone home Id gone down to see him and asked him what the problem was, he told me to Fuck off and leave him in peace. That was the last time we spoke.
Tonight, I’m determined to get to the bottom of this. We are alone, we can solve our differences. I don’t like fighting with my big brother, especially when I don’t know what it is I’ve done!
Gerard’s P.O.V
I knew it was going to happen, I just didn’t expect it then. Sitting on the sofa with his tongue half way down her throat. Bitch. What the Fuck Mikey? Rub my nose in it why don’t you. I knew he was straight, just because I'm struggling to find myself doesn’t mean my little bro doesn’t know who he is. I knew there would come a day when he would bring a girl home, and don’t get me wrong he has bought a couple home. None of them have bothered me too much. I never had to see him making out with any of them though did I? It’s a burning pain in the pit of my stomach. I feel sick. A crippling jealousy. I take another swig from the vodka bottle and furiously scribble at the paper on the table in front of me. My art is a great release for anger and tonight the walls are papered with twisted, bleeding figures each bearing my signature. I could create a whole world of characters, but I couldn’t be happy in the reality I was in.
I hear the door close and I realise tonight is the night Mum and Dad are off out. Not that it makes much difference; my plans for the evening involve drink and drawing, alone. Then it happens, half an hour later a little whispered voice coupled by a gentle knock “Gee, can we talk?”
Mikeys P.O.V
“Fuck off” came the retort through the door. His mood hadn’t lightened then. Gerard, I whispered louder this time. We NEED to talk. I don’t know what I’ve done Gee; you are my brother, my best friend. You have ignored me for days. Please Gerard, I'm begging now. Let me in.
Silence. I know he can hear me. I heard the bottle clunk onto his desk and the paper rustle. Gee? Nothing. Not even a fuck off. Well, ok. Ill just sit here until he comes out then. I'm not going Gerard! I yelled through the keyhole. You have to come out sooner or later!
20 minutes later I was still sat on the cold floor outside the basement door. Every few minutes I would hear the slosh of liquid as he slowly drank himself to a stupor.
I'm still here I offered. My head leaned to rest on the wall behind me. I meant it you know! I'm going nowhere! I can still be here when Mum and Dad get home if that’s how you want to play it. Another long silence followed. Then a creak, like someone getting up from a chair. I held my breath and waited. Click. There it was, he had unlocked the door. He hadn’t actually opened it, but it was unlocked. I pulled myself up from the floor, stiff with being immobile for so long. I put my hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. Here goes I thought…here goes.
Gerard's P.O.V
Little fucker is going to sit out there all night. Damn you Mikey Way you stubborn little shit. I don’t need this. I take another drink and accidentally knock some papers to the floor, silently I retrieve them. I sit in the small wooden chair listening to him for what seems like a lifetime. The clock on the wall tells me he has been there for ten minutes. I take another drink, watching the second hand jump its count. Damn him, he is usually fed up by now. It occurs to me as I sit that perhaps this time I can’t ignore him. Maybe its time he knew his brother was a sick pervert? No, he will get fed up in a minute or two. Mikey never gets past 15 minutes of protest. I lift the bottle to my lips again and glance at the clock as I place it back on the table. 17 minutes. I can hear the second hand…tick..Tick..Tick. 19 minutes and it had been quiet for some time. I hadn’t heard him leave, but perhaps he had? Then it came, his voice loud and clear. Still there. Fuck it. I stood up, the chair creaking from the release of weight; I turned the key in the door and turned to sit on the bed. The brass doorknob slowly rotated. Here goes I thought…here goes.
Mikeys P.O.V
I heard the front door click closed, followed by footsteps fading down the drive. My parents were going out for the evening. Some Uncle’s birthday Mum had said, either way it would be the early hours before they were home. I turned on the TV and flicked the channels, from music to cookery in 20 taps. Yep, I was bored. Gerard was still holed up in his basement bedroom. I hadn’t actually seen him for a few days, he was quite stealthy in his comings and goings, in fact, sometimes you only knew he had been in from the food remnants on the kitchen counter. I was quite sure he was avoiding me and I thought I knew why. Gerard and I had always been close, but lately things had changed between us.
It started when I bought Claire home. She was a cute girl Id met in a club. We were sat on the sofa in the living room, nothing serious, just kissing and stuff when Gerard walked in on us. He made me jump actually, I recall giggling with embarrassment. I stood up and introduced Claire to him but he was acting all weird. He growled something about “getting a fucking room” and stormed downstairs to his basement. I was stunned. He was usually quite a cool guy and losing his temper like that with me was virtually unheard of.
After Claire had gone home Id gone down to see him and asked him what the problem was, he told me to Fuck off and leave him in peace. That was the last time we spoke.
Tonight, I’m determined to get to the bottom of this. We are alone, we can solve our differences. I don’t like fighting with my big brother, especially when I don’t know what it is I’ve done!
Gerard’s P.O.V
I knew it was going to happen, I just didn’t expect it then. Sitting on the sofa with his tongue half way down her throat. Bitch. What the Fuck Mikey? Rub my nose in it why don’t you. I knew he was straight, just because I'm struggling to find myself doesn’t mean my little bro doesn’t know who he is. I knew there would come a day when he would bring a girl home, and don’t get me wrong he has bought a couple home. None of them have bothered me too much. I never had to see him making out with any of them though did I? It’s a burning pain in the pit of my stomach. I feel sick. A crippling jealousy. I take another swig from the vodka bottle and furiously scribble at the paper on the table in front of me. My art is a great release for anger and tonight the walls are papered with twisted, bleeding figures each bearing my signature. I could create a whole world of characters, but I couldn’t be happy in the reality I was in.
I hear the door close and I realise tonight is the night Mum and Dad are off out. Not that it makes much difference; my plans for the evening involve drink and drawing, alone. Then it happens, half an hour later a little whispered voice coupled by a gentle knock “Gee, can we talk?”
Mikeys P.O.V
“Fuck off” came the retort through the door. His mood hadn’t lightened then. Gerard, I whispered louder this time. We NEED to talk. I don’t know what I’ve done Gee; you are my brother, my best friend. You have ignored me for days. Please Gerard, I'm begging now. Let me in.
Silence. I know he can hear me. I heard the bottle clunk onto his desk and the paper rustle. Gee? Nothing. Not even a fuck off. Well, ok. Ill just sit here until he comes out then. I'm not going Gerard! I yelled through the keyhole. You have to come out sooner or later!
20 minutes later I was still sat on the cold floor outside the basement door. Every few minutes I would hear the slosh of liquid as he slowly drank himself to a stupor.
I'm still here I offered. My head leaned to rest on the wall behind me. I meant it you know! I'm going nowhere! I can still be here when Mum and Dad get home if that’s how you want to play it. Another long silence followed. Then a creak, like someone getting up from a chair. I held my breath and waited. Click. There it was, he had unlocked the door. He hadn’t actually opened it, but it was unlocked. I pulled myself up from the floor, stiff with being immobile for so long. I put my hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. Here goes I thought…here goes.
Gerard's P.O.V
Little fucker is going to sit out there all night. Damn you Mikey Way you stubborn little shit. I don’t need this. I take another drink and accidentally knock some papers to the floor, silently I retrieve them. I sit in the small wooden chair listening to him for what seems like a lifetime. The clock on the wall tells me he has been there for ten minutes. I take another drink, watching the second hand jump its count. Damn him, he is usually fed up by now. It occurs to me as I sit that perhaps this time I can’t ignore him. Maybe its time he knew his brother was a sick pervert? No, he will get fed up in a minute or two. Mikey never gets past 15 minutes of protest. I lift the bottle to my lips again and glance at the clock as I place it back on the table. 17 minutes. I can hear the second hand…tick..Tick..Tick. 19 minutes and it had been quiet for some time. I hadn’t heard him leave, but perhaps he had? Then it came, his voice loud and clear. Still there. Fuck it. I stood up, the chair creaking from the release of weight; I turned the key in the door and turned to sit on the bed. The brass doorknob slowly rotated. Here goes I thought…here goes.