Mikey has his eye on a certain someone. But he's caught up with someone else. [Frikey]
"Mikey," he whispers, eyes glowing like magic infused golden green orbs. "I've waited for this for so long."
He tilts his head closer to mine, and I feel his hot breath on my lips.
"Mikey Way, I lo-"
"Gooood morning Belleville! It's 7'o clock on this beautiful Monday morning-"
I slam my hand into my unforgiving alarm clock, squeeze my eyes shut, and attempt to suffocate myself with my own pillow.
I consider attempting to sleep later, but I hear an obnoxious knock at the door.
"Mikey, get your lazy ass out of bed! We're going to be late!"
"Fuck you, Gerard!"
I roll my eyes. His birth certificate may say he's the older-and therefore more mature-brother, but I'm positive he's the most childish.
"Whatever, Mikes, stop dreaming about you-know-who and hurry up! If I get another detention we'll both be screwed!" I snicker.
"C'mon Gerard, we both know you wish you were. Ohhhh Lindsay! Pleasee, baby-"
"Oh, shut up, Mikey! I'm not near as bad as you are! Ohh Frank, Frank I looooove you sooo much, never leave me dahhhling-"
"Oi! Getting up now!"
Footsteps race away from my room, and I heave myself out of the warm haven of my bed into the frigid atmosphere of my room. I hurriedly grab a pair of skinnies and my favorite Anthrax tee, and hustle to the shower, praying the water hitting my skin will make me feel halfway alive.
I enter the kitchen to see my brother filling a portable thermos with coffee. Typical.
"Jesus Gerard, how much have you had?"
He stops for a moment, and sheepishly pushes back a lock of his dyed jet-black hair.
I facepalm, and let out a dramatic sigh. I grab the pot of coffee from my idiotic brother, deciding the shower just wasn't enough.
"Hey!" He responds indignantly.
I shoot him a weathering it's-early-don't-fuck-with-me look, and he backs off.
"You've already had too much anyways," I growl.
"A bit pissy this lovely Monday morning, are we?"
I glare at him once more, and he sighs. I grab my bookbag, and head for the door.
"Mikes, shouldn't you eat something?" Gerard calls from the kitchen.
"No time, you're the one who said we had to hurry!" I shout back, then mutter "asshole" under my breath.
I tug on a simple black hoodie and fling open the door, wincing as cold New Jersey air hits my face. I leave it open, knowing Gerard's not far behind, and start walking down the frosty streets. I hear a door slam.
"Hey! Mikey! Wait the fuck up!"
I slow my pace a tad, hearing heavy boot-clad footsteps behind me.
"Christ, you walk fast," Gerard pants, falling in step beside me.
"You're the one who insisted we were going to be late," I retort, my breath fogging up the air in front of my face.
Gerard just shrugs.
"Whatever. Have you talked with him yet?"
"Don't play dumb with me. You know exactly who."
I sigh. "No, I haven't."
Gerard pushes a hand through his hair.
"Don't you sit next to him in Chemistry? And just behind him in English?"
I turn to look at him, wide-eyed.
"How do you know that?"
"You wouldn't shut up about it for ages, moron." A frown begins to form on my face, and he moves on. "But that's not the point. You sit right near him, would it kill you to have a conversation with this boy you're so pathetically in love with?"
"Probably," I mutter, unable to think of a better comeback.
"What?" Gerard looks to me, eyebrows raised.
"Whatever Mikes, you need to talk to him."
"No, I don't."
Gerard flails, aggravated by my stubbornness. I figure I've got 10 seconds before he launches into a brotherly speech.
"You do! You can't build a meaningful relationship with anyone until you've talked to them, for chrissakes! Stop being such a pansy about it."
Sick of being harassed a certain irritating sibling, I pull out my iPod and plug my headphones into my ears. Gerard just shakes his head, and turns to look instead at the fast-approaching black iron gates of our high school. It looks like a prison, complete with gothic bars across the windows and surrounding the property. I can't but help think that it could be rather beautiful, in a macabre way, if no one knew what horrors were on the inside.
We step onto the barren campus and Gerard wanders off to talk to Ray about the lyrics he's just finished for their new song. I walk on, almost stopping dead when I see a familiar figure looking furiously for something (or someone) in the crowd. It's too easy to pick him out, with his dark brown hair just above shoulder length and trademark fingerless skeleton gloves. He pushes back his bangs, anxious, and I finally melt, seeing my favorite part of his angelic face.
Those hazel eyes are impossible to miss.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please R&R, it's always appreciated.