Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > You Can Always Cover Me With Makeup
Frank; Then
I am no sociologist, but I have a suitable amount of perception which allows me to tell when I am being ostracized from a group. Of course, I don't let it affect me; I simply adopt the time-honoured method of zoning almost completely out of my surroundings, writing his name over and over in my mind, losing touch just enough to let the colour fade from the banal everyday images I am forced to endure.
The ignorance of bliss comes to an abrupt end when I'm dragged behind a row of lockers right after french class, the perpetrator of this crime almost ripping my arm from it's socket. I bite down on my lip to stifle my yell and turn to come face-to-face with my rabid bleach blond ex 'friend', caught in a typical 'teenage boys messing about' arrangement.
'Stevie...?'
He lets out an impatient breath of air, half-choking me on the stench of stale beer and pot.
'What...' I struggle free of his grip, seizle hold of his wrist 'What the fuck are you doing?'
'What is up with you?' he hisses, lips drawing back like those of a wild, untamed creature. I let go of his arm.
'Will you stop acting like a 13 year old girl?' I snap, before realising that's the only mentality he's potentially capable of. He shoots me a filthy glare.
'So tell me. What do you have against me, exactly?'
'It's that...freak you insist upon hanging round with.'
'Who?' His tone is so sullen that I am in genuine confusion 'Stop being enigmatic. It doesn't suit your face.'
'That Gerard of yours,' I wish he was 'The...you know...';
'Stevie, you are fully aware that if he'd stapled a kid to a wall he wouldn't be in school, he'd be in a straitjacket?'
He sticks his bottom lip out, which gives him the countenance of a small child.
'It's not that. It's...oh God, Frank, you do realise he's a complete faggot?'
For a moment, I am too stunned to retaliate. He sounds so absolutely, ridiculously ludicrous that I let out a snort of laughter instead.
'Are you-where the fuck??'
'It's true.'
'Oh yeh. According to who, tell me?'
'I've just heard. He's completely out of control. He gets so wasted that he doesn't care who or what he fucks-'
'Like you and Dan haven't had your drunken moments-'
'He's a proper...fuck up. Right into all that ass-fucking business. Why would I make this up?'
'Because you-'
'Frank, listen to me. He's trouble, okay? You stay the fuck away from him if you don't want to get fucked up.'
I scoff, push him back.
'You're so full of shit, Stevie Jacks.'
He shrugs, averts my gaze and skitters away. Mouth hanging open, I stand in disbelief.
I just-
I can't see why-
This is complete-
'Safe yet?' I turn to see my little piece of heaven standing beside me, smoky grin and teasing eyes.
'Yeah. I suppose. It does depend upon your approximation of 'safe', to be honest.'
His eyes travel in the direction of my non-friend, like a panther lying in wait. Turning, I notice that we're being glared at with an infuriating air of 'I told you so'.
'He's looking at us,' I state, then feel like an idiot the moment it comes out.
'Yeah?' Gerard grabs my bruised wrist and I start, meet his eyes, notice for the first time the flecks of gold hidden within his irises.
'I...'
He leans in close, warm breath tickling my cheek. I shut my eyes.
'Give them something more to look at.'
Before I can reply, his mouth crashes down on my own, engendering carnal waves of pleasure. I eagerly reciprocate, savouring his ragged gasps as his lips play across my own, leaving whisper-thin traces of perfection and he tastes of coffee and mint and himself, poison and clear, running my hands through his soft, warm hair.
'That was...' I breathe out, senses cleared. It's as though a thick, grey veil which had previously obscured my view of the world has dissipated and left me with a gleaming existance in its place.
'Come on,' Gerard grabs my hand, pulls me through hordes of shocked students
'W-Where are we going?'
'Bunking.'
and i think i know, that im standing on the brink of destruction and he has no qualms about pushing me off. i think, deep down i know
I bury the thought inside and squeeze his hand, my palm sweaty.
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i love you ALL for reviewing. especially you, alice93. if i could marry each and every one of you i would, but sadly, state law prohibits it
x!
I am no sociologist, but I have a suitable amount of perception which allows me to tell when I am being ostracized from a group. Of course, I don't let it affect me; I simply adopt the time-honoured method of zoning almost completely out of my surroundings, writing his name over and over in my mind, losing touch just enough to let the colour fade from the banal everyday images I am forced to endure.
The ignorance of bliss comes to an abrupt end when I'm dragged behind a row of lockers right after french class, the perpetrator of this crime almost ripping my arm from it's socket. I bite down on my lip to stifle my yell and turn to come face-to-face with my rabid bleach blond ex 'friend', caught in a typical 'teenage boys messing about' arrangement.
'Stevie...?'
He lets out an impatient breath of air, half-choking me on the stench of stale beer and pot.
'What...' I struggle free of his grip, seizle hold of his wrist 'What the fuck are you doing?'
'What is up with you?' he hisses, lips drawing back like those of a wild, untamed creature. I let go of his arm.
'Will you stop acting like a 13 year old girl?' I snap, before realising that's the only mentality he's potentially capable of. He shoots me a filthy glare.
'So tell me. What do you have against me, exactly?'
'It's that...freak you insist upon hanging round with.'
'Who?' His tone is so sullen that I am in genuine confusion 'Stop being enigmatic. It doesn't suit your face.'
'That Gerard of yours,' I wish he was 'The...you know...';
'Stevie, you are fully aware that if he'd stapled a kid to a wall he wouldn't be in school, he'd be in a straitjacket?'
He sticks his bottom lip out, which gives him the countenance of a small child.
'It's not that. It's...oh God, Frank, you do realise he's a complete faggot?'
For a moment, I am too stunned to retaliate. He sounds so absolutely, ridiculously ludicrous that I let out a snort of laughter instead.
'Are you-where the fuck??'
'It's true.'
'Oh yeh. According to who, tell me?'
'I've just heard. He's completely out of control. He gets so wasted that he doesn't care who or what he fucks-'
'Like you and Dan haven't had your drunken moments-'
'He's a proper...fuck up. Right into all that ass-fucking business. Why would I make this up?'
'Because you-'
'Frank, listen to me. He's trouble, okay? You stay the fuck away from him if you don't want to get fucked up.'
I scoff, push him back.
'You're so full of shit, Stevie Jacks.'
He shrugs, averts my gaze and skitters away. Mouth hanging open, I stand in disbelief.
I just-
I can't see why-
This is complete-
'Safe yet?' I turn to see my little piece of heaven standing beside me, smoky grin and teasing eyes.
'Yeah. I suppose. It does depend upon your approximation of 'safe', to be honest.'
His eyes travel in the direction of my non-friend, like a panther lying in wait. Turning, I notice that we're being glared at with an infuriating air of 'I told you so'.
'He's looking at us,' I state, then feel like an idiot the moment it comes out.
'Yeah?' Gerard grabs my bruised wrist and I start, meet his eyes, notice for the first time the flecks of gold hidden within his irises.
'I...'
He leans in close, warm breath tickling my cheek. I shut my eyes.
'Give them something more to look at.'
Before I can reply, his mouth crashes down on my own, engendering carnal waves of pleasure. I eagerly reciprocate, savouring his ragged gasps as his lips play across my own, leaving whisper-thin traces of perfection and he tastes of coffee and mint and himself, poison and clear, running my hands through his soft, warm hair.
'That was...' I breathe out, senses cleared. It's as though a thick, grey veil which had previously obscured my view of the world has dissipated and left me with a gleaming existance in its place.
'Come on,' Gerard grabs my hand, pulls me through hordes of shocked students
'W-Where are we going?'
'Bunking.'
and i think i know, that im standing on the brink of destruction and he has no qualms about pushing me off. i think, deep down i know
I bury the thought inside and squeeze his hand, my palm sweaty.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
i love you ALL for reviewing. especially you, alice93. if i could marry each and every one of you i would, but sadly, state law prohibits it
x!
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