Riffs in Time

Chapter Ten

I leaned back beside him, staring at the ceiling. My heart was still unsteady, a dull, familiar ache pressing in.

I could tell him, I thought. Just let it out—say that I knew exactly how it felt to be caught in Gerard's orbit, to want something I could never have, to know I'd only get hurt.

But what would be the point?

So I swallowed it down, like I always did.

Instead, I sighed. "I saw Lindsey at the show tonight. Just for a second. Thought I imagined it." I forced out a short laugh. "Guess I didn't."

Mikey frowned. "Why didn't you say anything?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Didn't think it was a big deal."

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "Well, at least you're lucky you don't like Gerard. Otherwise, you'd be just as screwed as the rest of them."

I forced a smirk, hoping it was convincing. "Yeah," I muttered. "I've been told."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The weight of everything hung between us. Then, Mikey sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You know, when we were kids, Gerard used to look out for me," he said suddenly, his voice quieter, distant, like he was pulling memories from a place he hadn't visited in a while. "I was the shy one. The weird one. I got picked on all the time, but he never let it slide. He'd always step in—didn't matter if the kid was bigger than him or if he got his ass kicked for it. He always had my back."

I stayed quiet, letting him talk.

Mikey let out a dry chuckle. "Once, when I was, like, eight, some kid pushed me into the mud on the way home from school. I didn't even tell Gerard, but he found out anyway. Next day, he marched right up to the kid, shoved him back, and told him if he ever touched me again, he'd regret it. He was eleven. Had no business acting that tough, but he did it anyway."

There was something raw in his voice—something aching and old.

"That's just who he was," Mikey continued. "He looked out for me. Always." He exhaled sharply. "And I guess... this is me paying him back."

I didn't know what to say to that.

Maybe he saw it in my face, or maybe he just didn't want a response, because he pushed himself up with a shake of his head. "Anyway," he muttered, "forget it."

I nodded, even though I knew neither of us would.

After our conversation, I walked down to the hallway where my room was. As I turned the corner, I saw them—Gerard and Lindsey. They stood a few feet apart, but the space between them felt impossibly wide. Gerard's shoulders were tense, one hand shoved into his pockets, the other holding a cigarette. Lindsey, on the other hand, looked unreadable, her posture poised, already halfway gone.

"It was fun while it lasted," she said over her shoulder, her voice light, almost indifferent. And then, just like that, she was gone.

Gerard didn't move. Didn't call after her. He just stood there, staring at the empty space where she had been.

I hesitated for a second before stepping forward.

I walked over to Gerard.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly.

Gerard exhaled, like he'd been holding his breath. "Yeah."

I studied him, the sharp angles of his face cast in shadow. "Do you like her?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. I knew I shouldn't ask—I knew there was a risk of my heart breaking. But I asked anyway.