To the four people that reviewed; I LOVE YOU hugs. You rock, I fukken love you! Your reviews, SERIOUSLY, you are just ahdfkguebf. Anyway, here is chapter four. I'm slightly disappointed with it, it's rushed and really not good but Mikey makes an appearance. Please review.. Chapter five will come quicker if you do....
Franks Point of View
Lying on a very uncomfortable and cold bed, I groan as I struggle to muster up enough energy to pry my eyelids open. I yawn as I rub the sleep from my eyes, pulling myself into a sitting position, my legs hanging off the edge of the bed. Closing my eyes, I rub the back of my neck, cursing the person who made me sleep on that awful bed.
“Uh, Frank is it?” my head snapped to the direction of the small voice, my eyes landing on a lanky boy about my age who had brown hair and glasses. I had never seen him before but he looked friendly enough.
“Uh, yeah.” I said as I scanned my eyes over his band tee and skinny jeans combination. Yep, definitely seemed friendly enough.
“Hi, I’m Mikey Way.”
“Uh, hey. Sorry, do I know you?”
“No, but you know my brother, Gerard. He kind of picked you up and brought you here when he saw what happened. You remember what happened don’t you?”
“Yeah, I remember.” I said, ducking my head in embarrassment.
“Listen, the nurse said you should be fine but you’re free to go home if you want to. If you want, you can come back to mine? Gerard already left after he brought you here and knew you would be okay. We can watch movies?” He suggests, giving me a small smile.
“Sure,” I agreed. I had only just met him but I was desperate to get away from this hello hole, “Hey Mikey, are you new here? I’ve never saw you or Gerard around here before…”
“Yeah, we moved into our house last week. Today was our first day.”
“Wait, will your mum and dad not be mad that you’re ditching on your first day?”
“Nah, they’re never home; they’re always away on business trips and that. Most of the time, me and Gerard live alone. So it’s cool. Will your mum and dad mind?”
I flinched at the mention of my father; it had been a while since someone had brought him up. “No.” I said, giving him a small smile.
“Perfect, let’s go.” I couldn’t refuse; leaving sounded perfect to me.
A while later, Mikey and I were trudging our way to what I assume was Mikey’s house through the heavy downpour of rain. We were both shivering violently, eager to get back to Mikey’s as soon as possible. There had been some small talk, like what our favourite movies and bands were; things like that. The more time I spent with Mikey, the more I started to like him; he started to feel like a friend and that feeling didn’t come all that often to me.
I found my self desperate to meet his brother, to see that beautiful face again. These feelings that were brewing inside me left me confused and uncomfortable. I shouldn’t be feeling like this towards another boy; I was straight.
“We’re here.” Mikey announced, pulling me from my dark web of thoughts. It was then that I realised we were standing on his front porch, outside his house; his house that held the most beautiful boy within it. To know that Gerard would be somewhere in there made my heart flutter and my stomach go mad with butterflies. I was scared, nervous, happy and excited all at once and I felt like I was going to combust with all of the emotions. This was simply too much for me to handle.
“You can come in you know.” Mikey giggles from the other side of the door, kicking his converse off and pulling his dripping wet hoodie off.
“Oh, ehh… Yeah, sorry.”
I stumble into his hallway; wet, shivering, giggling and slightly embarrassed, closing the front door shut behind me as I kick off my shoes and stand there like the fool I am.
“You can borrow some dry clothes, c’mon.” he says and starts up the stairs.
Shivering and teeth chattering, I follow him up the stairs, and into his room. Movie and band posters cover every inch of the walls, neat stacks of magazines, DVDs and CDs on the desk; I was really impressed.
“Here,” says, throwing a bundle of dry clothes at me. I catch them before they fall to the floor, “I’ll go make us some coffee. You can get dressed in here and just come down stairs when you’re ready.”
“Sure.” I say before he smiles and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
I strip down to my boxers – that were surprisingly dry – and squeeze into the dark skinny jeans, looping my bright pink studded belt through the loopholes, pull on the Iron Maiden tee and odd socks. It isn’t until I’ve applied my eyeliner that I realise I have no hoodie to wear and panic rises within me. I stare at the soaking wet one on the floor, considering wearing it. Would Mikey notice? Yeah, I think he would…
“Mikey?!” I call from his bedroom, my head peaking out the door.
“Can I borrow a hoodie?”
“Yeah, they’re in the wardrobe!”
I thank the Lord as a make my way over to his fairly large wardrobe and pull out a dark grey hoodie before pulling it on and zipping it up. I kick my soaked clothes into a pile in the corner and go downstairs to find Mikey.
Two pots of coffee, a bag of popcorn, two bags of sour skittles, and two hours later, Mikey and I were just starting to watch Saw II.
“I want pizza.” Mikey groans from the other end of the couch.
“Go fucking get pizza then.”
“Fine, I will.” He says, getting up and walking away into the kitchen. He comes back a few minutes later, shoes on, hoodie on, twenty quid in his hand and stalks over to the front door. I stare at him, he can not be serious.
“Mikey, you can not be serious. It’s still fucking pissing down out there!”
“So?” he questions, pulling on a black leather jacket, tucking the money into one of the pockets.
“SO?” I cry, “You’ll DIE!”
“Pfft. No I won’t. I’ll be back in a bit. Make yourself at home. Gerard won’t bother you; he stays in his room all the time so yeah, bye.” He says, slamming the door behind him, leaving an eerie silence.
I had almost forgot about Gerard before Mikey brought him up and by doing so he also brought back those odd, confused feelings. I gave an annoyed sigh before I wander through to the kitchen and boil the kettle. I spoon a large amount of coffee grains into a mug, followed by two sugars and collect the milk from the fridge. I much on some sour skittles as I wait for the kettle to boil, drumming my fingers against the counter top trying to ignore the silence that hangs around the house.
Once the kettle beeps, I pour boiling water into the mug, add the milk and give it a stir before putting the milk back in the fridge and placing the dirty spoon in the sink. I grab the mug and a handful of skittles before making my way through to the living room.
To my surprise, I don’t get to far from the kitchen counter where I’ve collided with something dark and warm and human and someone that smells so, so, so good.
I let out a small squeal and look up at the unfortunate soul who now has my coffee all down their naked chest.
He’s beautiful. His skin so pale compared to his midnight black hair. His hazel eyes so beautiful, rimmed with black eyeliner, so broken, so mysterious I struggle to not get lost in them. A sly, mischievous smile tugging at his smooth pink lips, an evil glint sparkling in his eyes. And oh my God it’s him.