It wasn't long before a mix of connections and effort got the band a handful of gigs lined up in the small venues dotting the city. The album wouldn't be released for several months, but the guys weren't about to sit still and wait for the release before making sure people knew their name. They were planning to put more work than ever into their performance, and that was why they were meeting up to practice… At Mrs. Way's house.

Gerard and Mikey were attempting to multi-task by using their mutual day off both for the band and to visit their mother. They had promised the rest of the band that they would have plenty of space to practice in the garage, so Frank was headed to the house that Gerard grew up in. Gerard had shown up at the house back in New Jersey a day earlier than the others, so he generously drove the old, somewhat rickety family car into the city to pick up everyone else on the day of their practice. Ray and Matt came to wait for the ride outside of Mikey's apartment, and when Frank walked out to meet them with his guitar, he was greeted by curiosity and disbelief in the eyes of his band mates.

Mikey's eyes couldn't be read because he was desperately avoiding eye contact with his roommate. He didn't say anything, but his posture was drenched in apology. It struck Frank that they must know about his relationship, and as Gerard pulled up, it also dawned on him that he was about to be trapped in a car for well over an hour with people who currently saw him as a spectacle. It was even worse when he thought of where they were going. At Mrs. Way's home not only would he be alienated from his friends, he would be in the most threatening unfamiliar environment: that of a parent. Gerard's parent.

Frank crawled into the car last, securing a window seat because sitting between Matt and Ray would probably be hell. He wondered why people bothered visiting family. They were judgmental, comfortable enough with you to be aggressive, and forged an interest in your life only out of obligation. Personally, Frank only visited family when forced. He was going to have to see his own parents in two days; he didn't need to deal with someone else's family.

Maybe if it were Matt or Ray's family it would be different. Then again, a family is a family, and the thing is that they're all messed up. Whoever you are, when your relatives get together, it's never a walk in the park. It's not Thanksgiving if the turkey hasn't been basted in someone's tears or sliced with passive aggressive gashes that mar the dish beneath it. Frank was no longer sure he wanted the car ride to be over with so quickly, and as tense conversation adorned the trip, he wondered whether Gerard also sensed that Mikey had told Ray and Matt about them.

The ride ended without an answer to that query, and Frank had to face the next trial of the day. The Way home he stood before wasn't the one that he had frequented in the summer of 1995. Gerard's parents had divorced since then, and his mother's new suburban home was nice if not uninspired. It was a bland color fronted by a lawn that rivaled the paintjob with its own lifeless shade of brown. Frank helped move the instruments and equipment up the concrete driveway and leaned his guitar case against one of the storage bins that lined the walls of the garage.

The gang was then ushered through the gates of doom which led abruptly to a kitchen occupied by a soft woman loading a dishwasher.

"Hi, mom," Mikey embraced his mother, turning her attention toward the guests in her home.

She gushed, "How have you been, Mikey? I don't get any news from you now that there's no phone in that apartment of yours. I'll never understand how you can live there."

"I didn't choose to only be able to afford a piece-of-shit, mom," her son jested back.

Gerard came back from hanging up the car keys and began to introduce everyone who wasn't a Way.

"This is Ray and Matt," Gerard started.

"Of course, I know them," she said, radiating warmth. "How are you doing, boys?"

A couple positive replies were muttered.

"And this is Frank."

Frank blushed heavily and directed his eyes at the ground. Under the pressure of the woman's kind and curious eyes, he felt almost guilty, like some good-for-nothing kid who had stolen the preacher's daughter. She looked at him extremely carefully, examining him to an excess, so his discomfort was prolonged. Frank wasn't sure how many prying eyes he could take in a single day. In the end, Mrs. Way just smiled.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Frank."

Sighing with profound relief that the world hadn't just ended, Frank walked with the other boys into the living room where they sat down holding the drinks Mrs. Way had offered them. Gerard stayed behind in the kitchen with his mother, and Frank eyed them furtively. Mrs. Way was smiling at her son and she pulled him into a hug that was much more than the standard greeting embrace she had used on Mikey. Her arms pulled him tightly into her chest for a long time, and she rocked him slightly before releasing him and nudging his head up with her fingers under his chin. She grabbed the car keys and walked out the door that adjoined the garage to the house; her son joined his friends in the living room.

A casual banter began among the boys as they adjusted to their environment. They planned to start practicing their music before Mrs. Way got home from what Gerard said was grocery shopping. Unfortunately, that didn't happen because the mother and host came back through the door in about ten minutes.

Exasperated, she explained, "The car finally did it; it broke down in the driveway. See, Gerard, this is what I was warning you about when you took it out this morning."

There were some sympathetic mutters. Ray even offered to walk to the store and get the groceries himself; Mrs. Way graciously declined. The store was too far. Even getting the car towed to a mechanic would take a while, and by the time it got there the repairs would probably keep the car there overnight.

"Oh, what are we going to do to get you boys home? Do you all have work in the morning?" Mrs. Way asked with a start.

Ray sweetly assured her, "Don't worry. I don't have to be in until the afternoon tomorrow."

"Same here," added Matt.

"What about the rest of you?" Mrs. Way asked with a furrowed brow.

They nodded and shrugged, assuring her that she didn't need to worry. She looked apologetic anyway.

"I'm so sorry," she sighed.

"It's okay, mom. Don't stress over it," cooed Mikey.

"I hope this isn't too terrible for any you. You're going to have to stay until the car is up and running. I'll get the bedrooms ready. You can all stay here for the night."