FicWad

‘Okay, okay guys can we listen up please? We’re not in a fucking animal house!’ That shut everyone up. Hearing a teacher say any type of swear word, even ‘bloody’ is something this college goes wild about. To quote one of my favourite movies, it’s like ‘seeing a dog walk on it’s hind legs.’ We live very sheltered lives, yes. ‘Oh come on, it’s not like you haven’t heard that word before. Get used to it if you haven’t, keep it up like this and I’ll be using a lot worse.’ The man chuckled softly and flicked his ebony locks out his eyes with one simple wave of his head, before sauntering out behind his desk over to us. ‘A lot of you guys have been here with me about a year now, but to all you newbies, I’m Mr Way.’ His tone was smooth and light, and the words just rolled off his tongue, sailing into the room. He was a confident man, he stood with his head up, back straight and his feet slightly apart to show he meant business. From that description alone, anyone might have been intimidated at first, but one look at his face could make the fear completely melt away.

His eyes were a soft, hazel green colour, flecks of honey darting about the iris in thin, fragmented lines. Lining his upper and lower lids were the traces of a kohl pencil, slightly smudged from the days work. His skin was pale and smooth, coating his soft jaw line and raised cheekbones in a creamy ivory texture. As he spoke, I followed the curve of his lips as they rolled and pouted over certain words, a smile playing about them whenever his eyes met mine. As they did, the brown orbs hovering over my own for just a second, I could feel my cheeks reddening, a blush threatening to coat them nearly every time I looked at him. I glanced away quickly, determined not to embarrass myself. Though, as the lesson passed, I found that an increasingly more difficult challenge to uphold. He had a ski sloped curve of a nose, slightly pointy like a little pixie’s at the end, and it drew you straight down to his smile. I don’t think there was a moment when I didn’t see the man smiling, if not just a little bit. When he did, the curve of his cupids bow eased into a smooth line and if you looked really close, you could see his lips parting a fraction to show his gleaming white canines.

I bowed my head and touched the cross on my chest, closing my eyes and forcing myself not to look, just... Keeping myself in check I suppose. I don’t know what drew me to him so much anyway. His voice? That was soft and delicate, you have to have something drastically wrong with you if you’re not slightly allured by it. He spoke as if each word had its own special place in the sentence, putting so much enthusiasm in everything he said. You could tell from the moment you saw him that he was a passionate man, and passionate about his art. His desk was littered with loose drawings and sketches of various comic book characters, each one done in ink, water colours or thin brush pens. A few of us had a look and though I recognised most of them, being the comic lover I am, I couldn’t figure out every one. It wasn’t until he explained that he was writing his own comic that I realised half the characters in here were made up. They had so much effort put in, even the really quick sketches that ‘aren’t any good if I’m honest,’ had something really special about them.

I was doing some work in my sketchbook on comic art, smiling to myself and soon forgetting all about him. I mean, what is there to forget anyway? It’s not like I fancied him or anything, I mean, no. Just no. The man is attractive and just has this... Mysterious aura about him. I was curious to know more about his comic, about each character and why they do what they do. I was curious to know what the ‘G’ stood for. On turning the page of my ‘Bat-Man’ magazine, I winced a little as I felt the narrow, razor sharp edge of the paper slicing an invisible line quickly down my finger. I drew my hand away and squeezed my eyes shut as I sucked the miniscule wound, looking up to see him standing there.

‘Paper cut?’ He asked with a smile and I nodded, ripping my hand away and sitting on the reddened digit to stop it from hurting and save myself any more embarrassment. I mean, a paper cut has to be one of the most pointless yet excruciatingly painful injuries known to man. I knew what he was thinking, something along the lines of ‘wow, the new kid’s dramatic, what an idiot.’ On that thought, I opened my mouth to quickly say ‘it’s nothing’ or something to show I was fine, before a soft chuckle floated past his lips. ‘Happens to me all the time, I swear it’s always right at the best part.’ He laughed and sunk down on a stool next to me, grinning softly and motioning with his head that he was talking about my comic. The cage of white icicles practically shone before me and I smiled back, blushing again as our gazes met. I don’t know what it was that made me so embarrassed, but when I looked at him, I just wanted to curl up and hide under my duvet again like a little child. A nervous ‘yeah’ escaped my own lips and I smiled hesitantly, relaxing more when Mr Way took my sketchbook in his hands.

‘Wow Frank, and here I thought you were slacking off reading about the Joker,’ he laughed, thumbing through the pages I’d been working on. I beamed at him as with each page, he had something good to say about it, my confidence soon back up to its normal level again. ‘Why didn’t you take art sooner? These show really great potential you know,’ he said, looking at me and leaning one of his bare elbows on the desk. He was clad in a black v necked t shirt with matching skinny jeans, a studded belt a little like mine slung round his hips. A few of the studs were missing, I’d say about four but who’s counting. A deep blush quickly rose to my cheeks as I realised that I indeed was counting.

‘Thanks er... Mr Way’ I said softly, smiling at him. It felt weird calling him that, I wasn’t exactly sure if I was meant to even though that’s what he’d said his name was. I never called teachers by their first names, I mean, I’m nearly nineteen. And this guy should have been the same as the others, including the fact that he didn’t look much older than I was. Early to mid twenties I’d put him as, definitely too young to train to be a teacher knowing full well what he’d left behind is nothing anyone normal would want to return to. At the name, he chuckled again, a small smirk stretching its way across his face which made me blush even more. I panicked momentarily, wondering if I’d done something wrong but the soft ‘Call me Gerard’ that passed his lips made me feel a lot better. Gerard. I had been trying for the past forty minutes to think of just the right ‘G’ for him. Gareth was the closest one I had next to Graeme and Guy, but Gerard was just perfect. Why didn’t I think of that before? It suited him so well, and I had to force myself to stop saying it over and over in my head so I could concentrate on what he was saying.

We chatted for a while about my work, Gerard just taking me through it and showing me different mediums I could use in my sketches. He gave me some tips on taking more inspired routes from the artists rather than just copying their work, before settling down to ask me some about myself. By this time, I was feeling a lot more comfortable with him, and was smiling as I worked. His presence at first was a little overpowering and I suppose all that embarrassment was just pure intimidation, but now we’d got settled at the back of the room together where I could just concentrate on what I wanted to do, he was a much softer character. We hit it off quickly on our love of comics, talking about different characters and issues together. Gerard’s favourite comic at the moment is issue no.12 of ‘The Invisibles,’ he has one of the original prints signed by Grant Morrison himself you know.

‘So, tell me a bit about you Bat man,’ he laughed as his eyes flickered over my work, watching the swift movement of my pencil to the paper, the graphite stroking a thick line along the snowy canvas. I giggled and asked what he wanted to know, answering nearly every question without looking up from my work. I told him about my mom and dad, where I lived, my mom’s house in New York which ‘we’re going to in the summer for a few weeks.’ I talked about all my dogs, naming a few and laughing to myself as I explained some of the crazy things they’ve done recently. After a while, I looked up just to check I wasn’t boring Gerard with my pretty mundane life, but when I did, our eyes met again and he smiled, nodding instantly for me to go on.

‘My favourite band has to be the Bouncing Souls at the moment, I bought their new album the other day and it’s off the wall’ I beamed, Gerard frowning in slight confusion at the name. ‘You don’t know them?’ I asked, grinning softly, ‘I’ll get you educated man, they’re a must have. If you like Maiden, Misfits, bands like that, then you’ll love them.’ He grinned and nodded again, flashing his Hollywood smile as he told me how much he loved the bands I mentioned. It was amazing the amount we had in common together and I found myself just wanting to chat with him more and more. I rarely felt motivated to do much in this college but he had the same effect as Brian. He really inspired me, but in a different way. It was strange, and I couldn’t put my finger on it but he really made me feel... Alive, I suppose. I just wanted to talk and talk to him about anything and everything.

So I did. Over the next few weeks, I really didn’t do much else if I’m honest. Whenever I wasn’t at home or in lessons, I spent my time walking to art early, spending extra time washing up from art or generally hogging nearly all of Gerard’s time during art. I suppose you could say we became friends, I don’t know if that’s what you should call it but that’s what it felt like. He wasn’t close like Ray or Zacky, but he made me feel relaxed and comfortable in the way a friend would, and I felt myself starting to trust him more and more. I didn’t neglect my other friends or my faith or anything else I’d normally do in life. I still hung out with them all and went Friday night bowling, and spent Sundays with my family in Church. Gerard just became another part of it all. I found myself wanting to know everything about him. The man was extraordinary, he could read you the phone book and made it sound interesting. Everything he said about my work, my music or personal life in general made me want to ask him more, want to impress him more. It’s like when you’re little and you meet your older cousins for the first time at a family gathering. Even though they were once your age, they automatically become so much cooler, everything they say suddenly matters so much more you and boy oh boy would you kill to hang out with them for five minutes.

It was like that for me. Gerard was my older cousin, and I wanted to hang out with him all the time. I knew this wasn’t possible, he’s my art teacher for crying out loud, and if I started working my life around him, then my friends would start to get really annoyed. He was just so interesting and funny and smart and damn well cool. We talked about everything together and the best part was that as well as me admiring just about every word the man uttered, Gerard seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. Whenever I spoke about myself, he’d always lean closer, really closing me off from the rest of the world so I could only talk to him and it would make me feel great. It made me feel secure, like I could trust him completely. There was only really one thing I didn’t mention, and he never asked.

It would be absurd to say I was ashamed, because that’s simply not true. My religion is part of who I am, it’s something I’ve been raised to believe in ever since I could understand it properly. I don’t know why I never mentioned it to him, I just... Whenever I thought about wearing my cross on the outside of my shirt, I felt worried. A blush would accumulate quickly on my cheeks and I would quickly tuck it back down after a soft apology. I suppose I was just worried what he’d think of me. I really wanted to impress him. I really wanted to be his friend, to hang out with him and just talk and get to know him more and more. What if revealing my religion changed that? What if he was an atheist or something? I don’t know why I was so worried, Zacky and Bob didn’t believe in God and if Johnny does then I’m freakin Madonna. Why was it so different with Gerard though? I felt like I was the new kid in college again, worried about whoever I told in fear of them rejecting me. I would be crushed if he did the same, I don’t know if the man realised how much I wanted him to like me but I got the feeling he did and I couldn’t lose that. Like I said, it’s not that I’m ashamed, I suppose I’m just afraid of rejection. Religion is always a controversial subject so unless we were actually going to hang out as friends together, I wasn’t really in the position to talk about private prayer.

On my way out the form room, I shoved my sketchbook and guitar lead in my bag, a Black Flag CD in my bag for Gerard to listen to. I was a few minutes early, but I always was nowadays, just to get some extra time before each lesson to have a chat. By the time I was making my way down the corridor to his room, I could smell the paint fumes wafting through the air and a grin tugged at my lips in anticipation. I quickened my pace as I nearened the white pine door, looking through the glass window to see the very man laid out reading a book. He was lying near his desk on a ratty, squishy old sofa which is surprisingly the comfiest thing in the world, and crossed his legs at the ankles, his left index finger caressing the cover idly as he read. It was a music artist’s autobiography from the look of it, and I watched for a second as his eyes flickered over the text, his brow slightly furrowed and a small, soft pout on his lips. I smiled and opened the door, Gerard looking up after he’d finished the page and grinning softly at me. I greeted him happily after his cheery ‘Hello!’ and smiled, setting down my bag and unpacking my things on my desk. I heard the soft creasing sound of him turning the corner down on his book, before he closed it and put it to one side.

‘What you reading?’ I asked with a smile, the CD in my hands when I turned round. I ‘oh’ed with a soft nod as I learned it was The Heroin Diaries, the autobiography of Motley Crue’s famous Nikki Sixx. We chatted about the band for a little while as I too am a huge Crew fan, before I stepped forward and presented the plastic packet. ‘Here’s that CD you mentioned by the way, I knew I had it lying around somewhere,’ I lied, beaming softly. Okay, so I had it lying around. What I didn’t mention was that I had turned the whole house upside down, called mom to check it wasn’t at hers in NYC before finally finding it in my wardrobe under a hat. I just didn’t want him to think I’d forgotten, and I knew I had it so... Gerard beamed widely and thanked me for it, turning it over to read the track list, his fingers moving gracefully about the casing. They danced and traced over the album art work and I smiled, mentioning one of the songs on there. ‘You’d love it, it’s the ultimate song just to blast out while you’re driving. My instructor disagrees but whatever,’ I chuckled, beaming as I heard him laughing. He grinned at me and shook his head fondly, smiling.

‘I’ll bet, it sounds awesome, that’ll be the first one I listen to don’t worry. It can be my sound track for getting outta here,’ he chuckled and I smiled at him, a feeling of elation coursing through me for a second at the fact I’d made him laugh. After mentioning some other songs to him and making some recommendations, he smiled, opening the little booklet that comes with most CDs. ‘You know, my brother Mikey’s really into this band, he told me they’re playing a show in Jersey sometime soon.’ My eyes widened and a huge grin split my features, I was gobsmacked. I’d been searching for shows nearby for weeks and couldn’t find anything, how on earth did he find one? I answered in the immediate positive, my brain already wracking for ticket money I could scrape together. ‘He says it’ll be one of their best yet, we have to go to that gig sometime man,’ he smiled, the suggestion so casual I wasn’t sure if he really meant it or not. I beamed and nodded, running a hand through my hair.

‘Definitely, God, I have to save up for that gig, I love them,’ I beamed, Gerard laughing and nodding his agreement, looking over the songs on the back of the CD again and smiling. The room was silent for a few moments whilst he read and I just beamed in happiness, before I heard the thin sliding of paper into its plastic slot, and I looked up at him.

‘Hey Frank, speaking of hanging out and stuff... Do you want to grab something to eat one night this week?’ He asked, his gaze meeting mine and I swear everything just ground to a halt. Do I want to? Of course I want to. Oh my gosh of course I do! This is what I’d been after for weeks since I’d known him, I’d been trying my hardest to impress him and it had finally paid off. We could do stuff out of school together, that means we definitely are friends right? We must be, why else would he ask, to talk about my art work? Yeah... I smiled softly and forced myself not to seem to absolutely ecstatic, yet not too casual. I wanted him to know I was looking forward to it.

‘Yeah I’d really like that, it’d be great fun Gerard.’ I smiled, a soft blush on my cheeks as he continued to hold my gaze, before dropping it and smiling softly back. He flicked his hair out his eyes again and squeezed my shoulder, replying with a soft ‘good,’ before arranging a time and place to meet. Already I could feel excitement racing through my veins and I knew that doing this with Gerard would really mean something special to me.

A/N: Hey everyone, just a quick note, I’ve posted this chapter up a day later than the Prologue just to get ‘Seven’ on the top page again with a new chapter so hopefully more people are interested in it. I was unsure if the prologue was very interesting but felt this had more substance to it and hopefully you guys are interested too! I’d really like to hear from you to see how I’m doing and everything so if you have time then just let me know, otherwise I hope you all enjoy the next instalment :]
xo Immy.