Hello again, my lovlies. So, I like this chapter. Things take a turn for the worst. Or nearly the worst, anyway. But not before a little Frerard moment. ;) Don't get excited over that though. Things are about to go down hill... Review, please! :D

Chapter 21 – Choose Your Poisons

Gerard

So there I was; on stage in front of thirty thousand people, singing 'Mama' in to a crowd of screaming fans. Oh, how I've missed this! But I couldn't help but notice Frank's lack of enthusiasm…I felt pretty shit for him actually. With Jamia being a bitch, he had a lot on his mind. I should cheer him up somehow…

After 'Mama' came 'You Know What They Do to Guys like Us in Prison' and I remembered how we used to fool around a little on stage to piss off the homophobes. It always used to make us laugh. So I sauntered over to him in the instrumental, grabbed him by the hair and crashed my lips to his before letting go, winking and continuing to sing. The crowd screamed at the little 'Frerard' moment. I turned back to see him smiling to himself, and playing with the resurfaced energy I always knew he possessed.

Christie

Okay…What the fuck was that? Gerard kissed Frank? Holy shit, that was hot…Can I join in? Oh…wait, shouldn't I be mad at Gerard for kissing another guy? For some reason I just couldn't…And Frank looked like he was a pretty good kisser…OH MY GOD CHRIS, SHUT UP! I mentally scolded myself. You are with GERARD! What's wrong with you?

Once they had finished I sulked off quickly to the hotel to avoid any awkwardness. I sat down on the couch and lit up a cigarette. This new found 'liking for Frank' was starting to stress me out.

Hmm…I wondered if Gerard still had his skeleton suit pyjamas. They were the comfiest mother-fucking pyjamas ever, and I always relax instantly in them. I went into the bedroom and rummaged around his suitcase for the garment. My eyes widened as my hand came across something cold and hard. Like glass…I pulled it out to find half a bottle of Whisky had been stuffed inside his suitcase out of sight. Jesus fucking Christ…

"Oh, shit…" Gerard's voice sounded behind me. He started to walk towards me but I turned around and glared at him, stopping him in his tracks a few metres away from me.

"What the fuck is this?" I waved the bottle in his face.

"It's nothing. Just a little…pick-me-up."

"Yeah? Well pick this up." I threw the bottle down into the space between us and it smashed, the brown liquid splashing across the carpet and glass scattering across the floor.

"Hey! Do you have any idea how much a bottle of Glenmorange costs?"

"You selfish bastard…Don't you remember? This is the reason we broke up in the first fucking place!"

"It's not as easy to stop as you think, Chris!"

"You said you had stopped!"

"I had! I was just nervous about our first gig!"

"So you drank HALF A BOTTLE OF WHISKY?" I raised my voice and stepped over the broken bottle.

"I'm sorry…It's hard... Just please, please don't leave me again." I pushed past him and started towards the exit. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I don't know. Don't you dare follow me, I don't even want to look at you. But while I'm gone, think of your son, who's sleeping soundly down the hall with his child minder, blissfully unaware of your addiction that one day will kill his daddy!" I said spitefully and walked out, slamming the door. Shit, where now?

I walked down the hall and knocked on the door of the first person I could think of.

"Shit, Chris, what's up?" I hadn't realised I was crying until he wiped the tears from my cheeks. He let me in and we stood by the door, before I fell into his arms and cried.

"Frankie"…I sobbed. Yes, I went to Frank's room. I knew he'd be there for me, okay? Don't judge me.