Frerard (suck on that) Frank and Gerard have a bumpy start, Gerard being the plastic boy he is... but perhaps Gerard is a brighter crayon than he pretends.
I'll never find out, either.
I can still remember the first time I saw him-- he was a cocky little fucker that I couldn't stand. His bright red hair made me look past the deep contradictions of his attitude and his eyes. His friends weren't the brightest crayons in the box, but at the time, he acted like he was the same as them, stupid and ignorant.
Capitalism at its finest.
Gerard would walk through the school like he owned it. And I, the new kid, just happened to accidentally drop my lunch tray in front of him, splattering unidentafiable lunch meat all over his "new converse".
I remember he asked me to lick off the mess.
I had looked at him like he was crazy, but he just smirked and repeated his demands. "Fuck no!" I finally said, surprising him. There was a strange look in his eyes, like relief, when I said that. I dismissed it. From then on I hated his guts.
It just goes to show how little I knew about him. I thought he was genuinely the person his popular friends thought he was--he knew all of their shitty music, and had an Aberzombie shirt or two. He laughed at all the stupid jokes made by the jocks, he went to their parties and helped them grow their unhealthily large egos.
I didn't like him. I didn't really care, though. He was just another popular dickhead that existed to make my punk, teenage high school days miserable. He was what every high school requires.
I saw him in the records store one day. I almost did a double tale. Hell, I did a double take. I only recognized his hair. His bright red hair, for the first time, looked out of place against his Misfits hoodie and Smashing Pumpkins t-shirt, complete with his usual black converse and dark purple skinny jeans. I couldn't help but gawk. At the change, of course, but also his newly found... sexy.
He, of course, noticed my stares. "What?" He snapped. Then his eyes widened. "You're that punk kid from school..."
I was so surprised he had so much as noticed me at school. "Sorry." I muttered, turning back to the selection of Social Distortion CDs. I could feel him looking me over, drinking me all in. It's my turn to look up, a slightly annoyed sentence escaping my lips. "If you want to stare, take a damn picture and get it fucking over with."
"I'm sorry, it's just...never mind." He coughed, digging through the assortment of Rise Against musical choices.
"Just what?" I ask, a bit bitterly. "If you want to say something, just spit it out."
He shakes his head. "Please, don't tell anyone about seeing me here." He said, almost sadly, as he picked up a CD and proceeded to the checkout desk.
The next day, at school, he was back to his Aberzombie shirts and with the popular crowd, talking to them about their shitty music, not that I expected differently. I heard someone bring up a few bands he had been looking at the day prior, and the only hint that he didn't agree with the shit-talking of the bands was a slight eye-twitch.
That's when I really started to wonder if Gerard Way was a real person. I'd always felt him an empty doll, nothing special, just a cunt flaunting his good looks for a booty call from one of the whores--excuse me, the cheerleaders.
A week later my parents told me we were taking in a foster kid for a year. I wasn't too happy about that. They told me some of the little things they knew about him-- he liked coffee. That was about all I heard about the mysterious kid, besides that it would be a boy. One night, my parents came to talk to me about him.
"Frankie, honey, we need to talk to you about the foster boy who'll be here in a few days." My mother had started. I groaned like the teenager I was.
"Frank, this is serious." My father said sternly. I sighed and nodded.
"The boy, well, hasn't really had the best life." My mom told me. I resisted the urge to say 'no shit, he's in fucking foster care.'
"He is your age, but two years ago, when he was fourteen, he... He had to watch his parents be mutilated to death." My father said gravely.
"So he has a Batman complex?" I joked, knowing full well there was nothing funny about the situation.
"Frank!" My mother scolded.
I sighed. "I know it isn't funny."
"It sure isn't. The boy's brother committed suicide shortly afterwards. He'll be here Sunday. His current foster parents live across town, so you can meet him when we get more information on him if you want."
I nodded, making my way to my room. I hoped Mom wouldn't go on a cleaning spree for this kid. I did not want to have to clean for the purposes of an undesired (by me) housemate.
Sunday rolled around, and not a speck of dirt could be found, the uncleanliness fearing for its existence at the wrath of my mother. Sadly she didn't forget to make me clean my room.
The boy would be dropped off tonight, six-ish. I heard a faint knock on the door, and slowly made my way to the door--opening it to reveal a red haired, very familiar boy.
"Gerard Way?" I had asked, so genuinely surprised. The Gerard way, king of the school, a foster kid? Dead parents and a brother whose suicidal thoughts got the best of? It had to be a mistake.
"F-Frank Iero?" Gerard stuttered, obviously as surprised as me. I took a second to squeal inwardly, he knew my name! How can you blame me for wanting to tap that sexy ass? A gay boy's delight, might I have said. Stupid whorish cheerleaders, keeping him all to themselves...not that I had ever, in all my time sharing schools with him (a year), seen him look even remotely interested in a cheerleader, or any girl come to think of it...
Gerard smiled nervously. "This is my new foster home, isn't it?" He asked. So it wasn't some crazy mistake!
I nodded, stepping back to let him into the house. He dragged in a battered black suitcase, adorned with band pins and patches. I like all the bands... Gerard pretends he doesn't like them at school. This is so weird.
"Thanks." He mutters, pulling off his unlaced converse. I nod in response.
"Is he here yet?" my mother called from the kitchen.
"Yeah." I called back.
It was his first night, after my parents had fallen asleep, that I wandered past Gerard's room. I could hear the faint sounds of... Crying.
I knocked on the door. "Gerard... You okay?" I called quietly, as to not wake my parents. I slowly opened the door after receiving no response, only to find Gerard hugging one of his Aberzombie shirts, tears wetting it (that sounds diiiiirty a/n, BTW) with tears as whimpers escaped his lips.
He looked up as I walked into the room, then buried his face back in the brightly colored cloth, mumbling something I didn't quite catch.
I felt bad for Gerard. The contradictions of his eyes and attitude made sense to me. He had lost everything to put his all into acting insignificant. He successfully made himself insignificant, too, by putting himself at the center of a load of dully colored crayons, hiding his true identity with false advertising.
I sat next to him on his bed, and put my hand on his back. "It'll be alright." I muttered, feelings sympathetic, an almost foreign concept for me.
"How do you know?" He spits. "It's not like you know what I'm feeling."
I sigh. "I will never, ever know what you're feeling. I'll never go through the same experiences, so you are right. I know shit about this kind of thing. But it'll work out, just wait." I smiled, patting his back gently.
He studied me for a moment or so, but it wasn't really all that uncomfortable.
"It's nice." He decided.
I scrunched my eyebrows, confused.
"That you don't pretend to know what I'm going through." He clarified, offering me a small smile.
"I ain't no pretender." I say, offering him a mix of a smile and a smirk.
And that was when I first started to unravel the mystery of Gerard Way.
My mum is calling me to dinner, thus the semi ubrupt ending. This was supposed to be a ones shot, but now I have so many ideas...hm. I'll probably post again soon, if y'all don't mind.
I apologies for the many mistakes. This is actually the rough draft. I was trying to write smut for a contest prize, but I ended up with this instead... So yeah. I actually don't think I can match this chapter. It's one of those things where you read and you're like "Whoa, I wrote this?"
R N R if you kind bitches wouldn't mind XD I looooove you! (and I'm bisexual, so we could soooo work)