The Broken Coffee Machine

Mikey's POV

Being on tour is rough; for some people, like my brother and I, it was too much so we turned to
drugs. In fact, for a time we were nicknamed the "Chemical Brothers." Like the band. We were
able to climb out of that hole, thankfully, but we had to replace the drugs and alcohol with
something.

In this case: coffee.

For us, it is important to have coffee always available. Coffee machines in between Starbucks'.
I get very protective over my machines. I'm like the coffee expert, so I am the only one allowed
to work them. Simple, right?

Apparently not.

See, in the band, everyone knows not to mess with my coffee. Ray never has time, cause he's
always jamming on his guitar or playing video games with me and Gerard. Gerard is drawing,
or reading comic books. Bob is always taping us doing stupid shit. Which leaves one person.

The instigator, AKA: Frank Iero.  

He does not know when to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh, Mikey...!" Frank called in a singsong voice that automatically told me whatever he was
doing would upset me. I put down my pass and ran out of the tour bus, almost tripping down
the steps in the process.

Frank had my coffee machine by the chord over a disgusting rest-stop garbage bin. My jaw
dropped and I ran forward.

His fingers "slipped" and I skidded to a stop immediately. It was even closer to the garbage
now.

"Ah, ah, a-ah." He said with an evil grin.

"Frank..." I growled. "Give it to me."

He laughed. "I will as soon as you do something for me..."

"Just spit it out, ass-hole."

He held his hand over his heart and plastered a hurt look on his face. "I just want you to ask
that hot chick over there if I can have her number." he gestured to a very pretty girl sitting on
the steps looking at a map and smoking a cigarette.

I rolled my eyes and walked over to her. "Hi, I'm Mikey."

She looked up and smiled at me. "Hi, Mikey, I'm Eliza. Can I help you with something?"

I sighed. "Yeah, my ass of a friend wants your number."

She raised her eyebrows. "And why is he an ass?"

I frowned. "He's threatening the life of my coffee machine."

She looked at him thoughtfully. He caught her eye and winked. She rolled her eyes to me and
said, "Well, he does seem like her could potentially be an ass, so he's not getting my number.
Nice talking to you Mikey."

She flipped Frank the bird and walked away.

Frank looked indignant as I came up to him, laughing my head off. "What's her deal?"

Still laughing, I choked out, "She doesn't like the fact that you're holding my machine hostage."

He huffed, chucked me my baby, and got back on the bus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was mad at me for "ruining his chances" and wasn't talking to me.

Gerard thought it was pretty funny. "Hey, Mikes, you finally got him to shut up!" He was joking,
obviously, but Frank got really mad. It was pretty awkward.

That night when we went to sleep on our separate bunks, Frank's back was to me. I fell into an
uneasy sleep and dreamt Frank was so angry, he was going to leave the band. All because of
me.

Luckily, Gerard woke me up before it could get any worse.

"Coffee." He said, his eyes mostly closed. I got up, stretched, looked at the clock: "9:30am",
moaned, and put coffee grounds in the machine. Pressed start: Nothing happened.

"FRANK!" I yelled. He jumped and fell onto the bus floor.

"What the hell did you do to it?!" I was shaking I was so angry.

"What are you talking about?!" He yelled back.

"My Coffee machine isn't working. I know you're angry at me but that's just low."

"I didn't do anything!" He shouted, miffed.

"Oh, yeah? Then who did it? Ray?" I asked sarcastically.

Pissed, he shoved past me and pointed. "It's unplugged."

Oh.

He plugged it in and hit "Start." It did, working just fine.

"Frank-" I said, starting to apologize. The bus stopped.

"No." Frank replied, obviously hurt. "I need a cigarette." He mumbled and exited.

"Nice." Gerard said, patting me on the back as he got off to go talk to Frank, presumably. Ray
shook his head at me and followed him. Bob was passed out.

I felt so terrible. I was such an idiot. I did not deserve anything good right now. I banged my
head on the counter, frustrated.

~Meanwhile, in the bathroom~

"He's probably torturing himself right now." Gerard said, smiling. "You know how he gets,
Frank."

Frank nodded. "Well, he should be. He made me feel like a really bad friend."

A smile grew on Ray's face. It was a sneaky, devious smile. Gerard saw it and an imaginary
light bulb turned on over his head. He knew exactly what Ray was thinking. He began smiling
the same way. They both turned to Frank.

Frank looked alarmed and irritated. "What the fuck?! Why are you guys smiling and staring at me like
idiots?"

"Want to get back at Mikey, Frank?"

Frank shrugged. "Yeah, kinda."

"Well," Gerard said, evil sounding. Frank could almost see imaginary horns peeking through
Gerard's hair. "We have the perfect idea."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, I was surprised to find Frank waking me up.

"Hey, man. I need coffee." He didn't appear to be angry anymore, just really tired. He had been
flailing around more than usual at the concert last night.

"Okay." I said hesitantly.

I put in the coffee grounds etc, etc, and hit start.

Nothing happened once again.

I looked at Frank, who was watching me. "Must be unplugged." I chuckled nervously. I looked
at the outlet. It was definitely plugged in.

I frowned and looked at Frank again. He raised his eyebrows in a "I know you aren't thinking
of blaming me for this again."

"Maybe," I said slowly, "I just need a new one. It is pretty old."

"Maybe." He replied innocently, looking me in the eye.

Resigned, I grabbed my dead machine and put it in the garbage. It killed me. For one thing,
I didn't have another, so we would have to go to, like, every Starbucks in the country just to
get enough.

Oh well. I wouldn't lose Frank. At least we had played last night's show all right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were all ready to play with this band called "Mindless Self Indulgence". They were really
cool. Gerard had goo-goo eyes for their bass player, Lyn-z. She was really good. We had a nice
conversation about bass. Gerard was so jealous.

There was a problem, though. This dressing room backstage didn't have a coffee machine.
I was getting pretty shaky, but I figured it would pass.

The pretty make-up artist kept distracting me. She was shooting me looks too.  I gazed at her
one last time and we all got on stage.

The first few songs I was okay. But during a bass solo, I kept messing up because my hand
wasn't steady. Irritated, I slammed down on a string. Everything went black...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's wrong with him?" "I dunno. He just passed out." "Think we should call an ambulance?"
"Nah. Look he's coming to."

I moaned. "Whudid he say?" "Sounded like 'coffee'."

"Good GOD." Frank said, disgusted.

"Well, get him a cup, someone." Said the commanding voice of my brother. Music to my ears.

A few seconds later, a warm cylindrical object was placed in my hand. "Here, drink this."

I sat up and opened my eyes. There was the pretty make-up artist giving me a cup of heaven.

"I pass out from lack of caffeine sometimes, too." She said sweetly. "That's why I have a
portable coffee machine. I'm surprised you don't have one."

"I did." I explained, "But it broke yesterday. I didn't have a back-up."

She helped me up. "Well, I have an extra one that you can use until you are able to get a
new one. My name's Alicia, by the way."

"Mikey. And that would be absolutely amazing. Speaking of coffee, do you want to get one
later?" I was feeling pretty bold in that second.

"Sure." She smiled warmly. I returned it.

"Are you serious?!" Frank pouted, disgusted. "He got his coffee back AND a beautiful girl?"

I laughed. "Well, I have you to thank for that. If you hadn't sabotaged my machine,
Alicia and I would've never gotten together."

He huffed and stomped off.

"He'll get over it." Alicia said. She called over another make-up artist. "Hey Jamia, why
don't you go cheer Frank up?"

The girl named Jamia left and Alicia looked at me. "He'll thank me later."