Idk why I'm starting a new fic, especially bc I don't have many prewritten chapters but I'm freshly out of the hospital and want to start something new

~~

Everything has an edge. Everything will have to end. And so will I. The way something crosses over the edge can just be different in some cases. But most of the time it's just awful. The ending of something can be like getting a rug tugged out from under you. The way you're standing there, seemingly enjoying life. But all the sudden it all changes and suddenly your whole world shifts.

Or, in another way, I guess you can say something ending is like skydiving. It's nice at first, the feeling of floating as you're falling through the sky. The feeling of being free and light and happy. But then all of the sudden you're hitting the ground, splattering disgustingly on the pavement. And that's the ending.

And right now I'm at my end. The last simile was actually quite good, it's almost not even a simile. I stepped onto the small ledge of the roof, looking down twenty stories below me.

I just couldn't do it anymore. Being alive was just too hard. Every night I beg and plead to everyone above and below that I don't wake up in the morning. Some dead end job during the day, wasting my nights drinking beer and watching tv.

I had dreams once, that seemed so far away now. I had dreams of being in a band, being a rockstar. I think I almost did make it too. My band Pencey Prep was so fucking close. We were opening for this other pretty famous punk band and we were so hyped. But the whole world seemed to be against us as our van broke down on the way. And when we tried hitchhiking, we ended up with some guy who missed the turn off the freeway. And then we got stuck in complete sitting traffic. In the end we missed the show. The band broke up after that and I haven't been in another one since.

I've also always wanted a relationship, a boy to make me happy. I remember my first serious relationship. We were happy and normal and even homecoming kings junior year. Then he slept with my best friend. My second relationship wasn't any better, it was filled with jealousy and distrust. My third and last boyfriend...I can't even think about him without wanting to jump.

There was a soft breeze but the happy weather did nothing but bother me more. The worst part is when I see people walking down the streets smiling and laughing. How do they do that?

I looked down again at the mostly empty streets. The hustle and bustle of New York seemed to move in slow motion around me. It all seemed distant and far. I was disconnected.

"Hey, you looking at the view?" Someone asked.

I turned back and saw someone standing there. The first thing I noticed was his hair. He looked like a goddamn strawberry. He wore a pale yellow sweater with skinny jeans. He had a soft smile, hazel eyes seeming to gleam with happiness.

"What?" I asked.

"The view," he repeated, climbing up onto the ledge of the roof with me. "Isn't it just beautiful? I just moved here and still can't get over just how beautiful New York is."

I looked at the skylines, each taller and more extravagant than the next. The beauty that I once saw was gone. All I could see were the starving families and crime ridden streets.

"Gerard!" Someone shouted.

The boy next to me jumped in fright and I reached over to keep him steady. I looked back at a man similar in age, taller and slimmer with slicked back blond hair.

"Get down from there, Blondie," the new man said.

"I told you to stop calling me that," the redhead—Gerard—stated as he climbed down. "We were just looking at the view."

"Hey, man, I'm Mikey," the blond guy said to me. "Maybe you can come down from there and we can talk."

I furrowed my eyebrows as I shook my head.

"We were gonna order pizza, wanna join?" Gerard asked.

"I'm busy," I said.

Gerard left and I stared at the other man.

"Sorry my brother is a dumb fuck," he said. "But I'm not leaving until you come inside with me."

"You can't make me do anything," I denied.

"You don't want to do this—"

"You don't know what I want," I interrupted. "You don't know what I have been through."

"I know that it's nothing you can't work through," he said. "Come down and we can get a pizza and talk."

"You don't get it," I muttered.

"I do," Mikey insisted, taking a few steps closer. "I was here once where you are and not long ago either. I too stood at the roof of a building. But I stepped down. I gave myself a second chance. Trust me, it's better than you think."

He held a hand out and I could see the faint scars on his pale wrist. Mikey looked at me with his brown eyes that seemed sad but hopeful.

"You just moved here?" I asked.

"Yeah, with my older brother, Gerard," he said. "We're both a mess. I just got out of a psychiatric hospital and he dropped out of college after flunking two semesters. We just moved here, today's our first day in the apartment. We're hoping for a new, amazing life."

I snorted. It sounded like me five years ago, moving to New York to follow my dreams like a little baby deer.

"You came to the wrong place," I said. "New York is where dreams come to die."

"They don't have to be," Mikey said. "My therapist told me something I could never forget. He said, 'Sometimes life is just about starting over. And sometimes to do that you have to kill yourself, metaphorically. Because there is you and then there is you. One is normal, the other whispers all the dark, awful thoughts. And you need to kill that second one. It's hard and painful but you have to kill that part of you in order for the better part of you to live.'"

I stared at him for a moment.

"And I killed that inner part of me," he said. "And I moved to New York. You've gotta kill the inner part too."

The roof door opened and Gerard popped his head out.

"What kinda pizza you want?" He asked, popping his bubble gum.

"Beat it, Blondie," Mikey said. "And speak properly for God's sake."

"Hey, I'm the older one, I'm supposed to be the one pushing you around," Gerard said. "You're so mean to me, stop calling me Blondie."

Gerard left again and I frowned.

"He's an airhead," Mikey said. "Sometimes doesn't know when to shut up. But he's really good, always so positive that it's kind of annoying, actually."

I looked around at the couple of chairs and tables up here. In the summer there were flowers and lights strung up to be the coolest hang out area but now in the fall it was mostly cleared out.

"Come on, what's your name?" He asked.

"Frank," I said.

"What apartment are you in?" He asked.

"Um, 7B," I said.

"Ah, we're in 8B, right above you," Mikey said. "Come on, let's get some pizza."

I looked at him for a moment before taking his hand, carefully stepping down from the ledge of the roof. I followed him down to the apartment where boxes were stacked everywhere. The first thing I noticed was the art, canvases and canvases already hung on walls or stacked in the corner.

"Gee's an artist," he explained when I looked at them.

"And a hella fine one too," Gerard added when he walked in.

"I hate that word, stop using that word," Mikey complained. "Did you order the pizza?"

"You know it," he said, flopping down onto the couch.

"Where are you from, Frank?" Mikey asked as the two of us sat down.

"Ooh, Frank, that's a good name," Gerard said.

"New Jersey," I said. "Belleville."

"Oh my god, is too," Mikey said. "Small world. You went to Belleville High?"

"No, catholic boys school," I said.

"You were probably a few classes ahead of us anyways," Mikey said. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three," I said.

"Ah, I'm nineteen, Gerard is twenty-one," he said.

I nodded, looking at the way Gerard played with the hem of his shirt. There was glittery nail polish on his fingers.

"Nose goes on getting pizza!" Gerard exclaimed.

He put his finger on his nose and I followed quickly out of sheer instinct.

"Ugh, Fine," Mikey muttered.

Gerard smiled proudly, running his hand through his red hair.

"Should be here soon, I left money on the counter," Gerard said.

Mikey grabbed the money and left the apartment.

"I came to New York to be a painter," Gerard said. "Took a couple years off before college and then failed at that. School isn't really my thing."

I nodded, looking down.

"But I guess I should've known before wasting the money," he said. "I've never been good at school, I was put into all the stupid kids classes. My brother calls me an airhead."

"Seems to be mean to you a lot," I said.

"Nothing more than sibling banter," he said. "I do it too but, you know, I go easier on him now that he's opened up more about his mental health and—"

Gerard cut himself off as he froze. He looked over at me, a small frown on his face.

"Y-you weren't up there looking at the view," he realized. "You're like Mikey. You were there to..."

I looked down, eyes watering.

"Maybe I should just go," I said.

"No, don't, please don't go," Gerard said. "Please, you can't leave. You need to be in the hospital. I'll take you to the hospital."

I stood up, shaking my head.

"You two have been too nice," I said. "Really, I should go."

"You can't go back up there," Gerard said.

I didn't say anything and he stood up.

"Frank, please," he begged. "You have to promise me because you're my only friend here, I can't lose my only friend."

"Fine, I promise," I whispered.

Gerard gave me a hug, giving me his bright smile. It was a cute smile.

"I should still just go," I said.

"Okay but I'll be coming to visit you tomorrow," he said. "And if I don't think you're better than I'm taking you to the hospital."

"Yeah, whatever," I mumbled.

"I mean it," Gerard said.

He gave me one last hug before I walked out. I considered going back upstairs to finish my original job before I walked downstairs, instead going to take a nap.