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Suddenly, Gerard's life had begun to play in technicolor for the first time in far too long, probably the last time he felt like this—light—was when he was small, when the world still felt like it belonged to only him and Mikey, armed with whichever tape was running under their desperate summers until they wore it thin.
Every fiber of Gerard's soul felt strung aflame. Even his fingers felt prickly, as if he was only finally waking up. He couldn't stand to be a spectator anymore. Peering down from the stands into the operating theater and seeing himself lying on the gurney. A specter, trapped in a fatal pattern of train rides, dead leaves, copy machines, and buildings that crumbled from within. He decided to stop haunting, so he reached out and called Ray, who he hadn't spoken to in years. Which in hindsight felt embarrassing considering they only lived 15 minutes away from each other–Ray only lived across the river–but Gerard was all too familiar with the act of withdrawing and letting people fade away because he couldn't keep up with the living.
Now he was reaching out and holding tight.
Ray’s voice had sounded quiet and tinny over the landline but excited, it had been like nothing had ever happened between them, even if that something had only been time and being at that stage of adulthood where you feel pressured to stop pretending and try for real this time. “Come on over, G! Show me what you have. Let's write something!”
Gerard hung up feeling lighter, over the phone he had told Ray that he had a good feeling about this, and it was true. For a moment, he toed at the tacky linoleum floor, his cheeks already hurt from smiling. After grabbing a jacket, he made his way to his car, parked at the curb under the shadow of their reddening maple that matched the brick—a dusty Subaru Legacy that was silver under all the grime. He wasn't great at driving, in all honesty he was totally neurotic about the whole ordeal, but Mikey wasn't anywhere to be found, so he wiped the pollen and leaves off the windshield with his ratty sleeve and drove over.
Ray, a smile splitting his face, shepherded Gerard over the threshold, through the living room that was more family pictures than living room and through the even smaller kitchen, where Ray paused to shake and prod at a pot that was starting to quiver and boil over. Gerard peered at the magnets that littered the fridge, lingering on the various school portraits from throughout the years, “Toro, are you the baby?” Gerard asked with a laugh, Ray rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, revealing mirroring sweat stains under his arms, “Yeah dude, I have two older brothers, but they’re not usually around anymore. Flew the coop, y’know.”
They stared at each other with the same commiserating bitter smile.
Gerard coughed, Ray cleared his throat, the gas stove clicked, clicked, and then went silent.
Ray smiled and shook his head at the floor as if to shake whatever he had been thinking free, “Let me show you my room Gerard, all the things we need are in there!”
Gerard laughed again, baring his little teeth, unable to help it, “Show me where the magic happens Sir!” He followed Ray into the small bedroom down the hall which housed a bunk bed, a wooden dresser, and a desk where a small computer lay nestled amongst the clutter. Gerard eyed the stacks of metal tapes and the various movie posters and comic strips that had been taped up, he looked carefully at the toys and figurines covering most of the available surfaces. M.U.S.C.L.E. Men and Lego pirates raged little battles on top of the desk, hanging next to them was their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. There were even toys still in their packaging pinned to the wall, Gerard pointed at one, “Cool Dalek, man, those were scary,” Ray glanced up from where he was frantically kicking shit under the bed, “Oh my god yeah! Glad you found that, dude, he’s one of my favorites!”
Gerard felt unbelievably happy. Before they lost touch and whenever he had been convinced to leave the house–which wasn't often–Gerard had felt like he couldn’t go anywhere in Jersey without running into Ray, same shows, same post-show diners, same trains. Ray’s shy eyes had followed him, peering over sticky vinyl booths and across living rooms and basements. They pretended not to notice each other while taking the subway into the city, and when Ray had come over to take turns playing Quake with Mikey in the bedroom he used to share with Gerard. Now Gerard and Ray were in the awkwardly sweet process of reintroducing themselves to each other. It felt to Gerard like he had been let into Ray’s Batcave, and now they could finally fight crime together.
Ray powered up the computer and spoke around his pick, “G can you hand me the Session?”
Ray’s Gession Les Paul was on the bottom bunk, as if keeping the bed warm for him. Gerard grabbed Ray’s girl carefully and handed it to him. Ray motioned for Gerard to sit in the chair at his desk, and together they crowded around the tiny monitor. Gerard pulled out the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket where he had jot down some notes.
They worked on "Bring More Knives” all afternoon and well into the evening, dinner provided by Mrs. Toro, word by word until they had a entire song. Gerard sang some of the chords he had envisioned while Ray attempted to transcribe. It shouldn’t have worked so well, the both of them. But Ray could take Gerard’s tapping and hums and make them whole, materialize them. When Gerard couldn’t fully explain it, Ray would patiently hand over the Session and Gerard would pluck it out carefully while Ray helped.
When they were done, Gerard grabbed Ray's shoulder, bunching up his T-shirt, “Ray… man, you are electric. I told Mikey at that Rodney’s show that you were the best I’d ever seen, like if we’d start another band, you'd be the guitarist we’d want, you’re the only pick dawg.”
Ray’s ears turned pink, and he took his glasses off to rub at his face and wipe his eyes. “Come on Gerard, you're–thanks, I’m pretty sure you’re like a genius or something.”
They smiled at each other, the promise of everything was in front of them. This was it.
Ray looked down, “I’m beat. Wanna just stay over? It’s kinda late.”
Gerard looked around anxiously and rubbed at his ear, “Sure, man, if you don’t mind, I’ll take the top bunk, bottom’s you right?” Ray nodded, “Yeah, but we can share mine? I don’t mind if you don’t, Louis is keeping a bunch of his crap up there.” After a series of apologies, looking anywhere but eyes, and dancing around each other, they finally turned to face away from each other to shimmy out of their jeans.
Gerard turned off the lamp, carefully took Ray’s glasses from him to set off to the side, and climbed into bed after Ray. They laid in silence for a moment.
“I like these sheets, Ray, Pokémon, that’s fuckin' awesome,” Ray, embarrassed, buried his head in his pillow, and let out a muffled—
“Ah thanks, gotta catch ‘em all, y’know?”
Gerard wished Ray would face the wall or something because even in the dark he could feel his smile and quickened breath. He wondered if they should be freaking out or not. He wondered if Ray had ever slept in his old bunk in what was now Mikey’s room at home. He wondered if Ray remembered seeing him on the train while he was dressed like a girl. He wondered if Ray liked it and if he felt scared too. Gerard wondered if Ray also had trouble sleeping. The dark made things better, but it also made everything worse.
Ray placed a warm damp hand over Gerard’s, “I believe in this, Gerard. Not to sound silly, but we have something special. It’s like magic, an oath.”
Gerard’s heart squeezed, Ray had just voiced the track of thoughts that had been running around his mind throughout this entire process. “Yeah… I think everything’s going to change. I quit the network,” Ray's grip tightened, “That’s scary, but... yeah.” They were quickly losing the thread here, Gerard turned to gesture at the posters on walls they could just barely make out in the grainy dark, “Toro, how do you sleep with Mena and Audrey watching over you like this? I’m getting flustered!” Ray laughed and covered a yawn with his arm, “Shutup dude, let’s sleep, this is ridiculous.” But it wasn’t. So they inched closer, this time with purpose, until they could smell stale cigarettes, feel each other's shaky breath, their heartbeats, their mutual body heat.
Ray and Gerard fell asleep like that, holding hands, for once, totally unafraid.