Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > A Misfit's Guide to the 20 Ways
6# Guilt Trip
21 ReviewsHe MUST apologise, even if he's not sure what he's done.
I LOVE YOU ALL. Seriously, 20 reviews? What did I do to deserve those?! Maybe I should write total clichés more often!
No joke, thank you so, so much. It means the world to know some people out there actually think something of the random thoughts that come into my head. I’m in debt to you all, I really am.
Play Hard to Get II
A sharp, stabbing pain clutches at my chest, as real and physical as the cupboard itself. It only intensifies as I stand there, unable to move, feeling like my soul just died at my feet and any moment now the sky will darken, the flames will start rising from dust and I’ll be burnt to a crisp in the apocalypse as I stare at Gerard and Cynthia and Gerard and Cynthia are blissfully unaware because I am invisible.
I don’t know why I should be so surprised, that’s all I ever was to anyone. To society I’m just another teenage delinquent who smokes pot and wishes they’d been born in 70s London. To the school I’m a high school flunkie with no interest in anything but an unattainable future. Even my own mother looks at me like something she found stuck to the sides of a drain pipe. Now the only person who ever saw me differently is playing tongue tennis with a motherfucking wannabe emo fangirl.
I know I should feel relieved that it’s just tongue tennis. Gerard’s hair is ruffled and sticks up at the back, Cynthia’s pale cheeks are flushed slightly and her makeup is smudged over her face but that is all they are doing. Standing millimetres apart, eating each other’s faces with their hands clamped to each other’s asses. An ugly black feeling rises up inside me mixed with repulsion and an urge to launch myself at Cynthia and yank those pathetic blue extensions right out of her scalp as every foul word I can think of jumps into my head. Ugly bitch. Dirty whore. Pathetic slut.
After what feels like an eternity Gerard’s eyes flicker open and pass over me, widening in realisation. He pulls apart with a sound like a plunger being yanked from a toilet basin and shakes his fringe in front of his face. Ten minutes ago I would have thought it the cutest thing. Now I just want to slap him.
“You can’t fuck in this store cupboard,” I deadpan.
“Oh!” Cynthia giggles and blushes. “Sorry. Didn’t know this space was reserved.”
“No, you literally can’t fuck in this store cupboard,” I repeat, rolling my eyes to stop them from forming tears. “The chemicals will give you genital cancer.”
Cynthia laughs, a sound like nails clawing a chalk board but Gerard just looks at me levelly from behind his hair. “We weren’t fucking,” he states simply in a quiet voice.
Oh. Well that’s just fantastic isn’t it? Okay Frank, I know that I let you believe you actually felt something for me, invited you over my house and made a bunch of homoerotic jokes before tearing your heart from your chest and ripping it into pieces for some disgusting walking stereotype but hey, at least we weren’t FUCKING!
I cross my arms over my chest and look away. Gerard nudges Cynthia gently. “We should probably get back to class,” he tells it.
It nods and they march straight pass me, Gerard keeping his eyes pointed at the floor. They’re halfway down the hallway when I stop them. “Gerard.”
He looks round. I fix him with my coldest stare. “You forgot your textbooks.”
“Oh. Right.” He hurries back and picks up the pile of books he was supposed to be in there for in the first place and sprints back off to where Cynthia is waiting, finally leaving me alone so that I can let a tear splash onto the tiles.
*
“Talk to me, Frank.”
“I am talking to you.”
“Not properly. I don’t get it...first it’s all you can do not to insult me and now, what, you ran out of things to say?”
“It’s not that,” I rub at my eyes tiredly. Tired of the conversation. Tired of everything. “I just...I’m just mad, I guess.”
“You’re mad at me?"
“No,” I reply quickly. “I’m mad at myself.”
“What for?”
“For...” For how I acted? For falling for you in the first place? Or for hoping you felt the same way? “Fuck, I don’t know.”
Too deep in confusion, Gerard returns to the assignment and says nothing.
For the rest of the day I am numb. I sleepwalk to my classes. I answer questions on automatic. I barely taste lunch. It’s as if the world has faded to a dull shade of grey, all the colours gone with my hope for humanity.
“Frank.”
I mean, mankind has never exactly been my favourite species, what with racism, genocide, dub-step, etcetera. But I’ve kinda learnt to tolerate it the way people have learned to tolerate wasps or junkie shit on alleyway walls. But now I would honestly be quite happy if Skynet did decide to just drop a nuke on us all.
“Frank.”
People suck, anyways. I’d much rather be an alpaca. I swear all they do is sit around and chew weed.
“FRANK!”
My eyes roll upwards to meet my friend’s. “Yes, Cameron.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, frowning concernedly. “You’re acting like you just found out Lushotology isn’t a real religion! Did something happen?”
“Yes, Cameron.”
“Well, what was it?”
“Yes, Cameron.”
Cam snatches a roll of newspaper and brings it sharply across my face, jolting me out of my stupor. “Ouch!” I exclaim, rubbing at my cheek. “What the fuck was that for?!”
“Wasting paper,” Cam replies matter-of-factly. “I keep passing you sheets to make notes on and all you’ve done is draw stickmen hanging themselves.”
I look down. A sad pencil sketch lies before me. “Wouldja look at that,” I murmur, staring down at the doodle. “I’ve bloody well drawn a stickman hanging himself!”
Which earns me another smack across the face with a roll of newspaper. “Frankie-san! Tell me what happened!”
Sniff. “I caaaaaaaaan’t.”
“Why not?”
“Too” sniff “fuckin” sniff “painful.”
Cam pulls a sad face and puts an arm around me. “You’ll feel better after you tell me.”
I sigh and proceed to tell her the whole, sad, sorry tale. When I’m done Cam sighs and pulls me closer to her. “Baby g,” she says, voice heavy with lament. “I’m sorry.”
Full of self pity, I merely nod and bury my face in her shirt. She pats me on the back and we stay like that for a little while, Cam playing the sympathetic mother I never had and me playing the sad little confused kid with a gay crush on his new best friend until I can’t bear the silence for any longer. “It’s not fair,” I exclaim, voice muffled against her shoulder. “Just cos she’s got a vagina.”
“You don’t need a vagina to be cool, Frank.”
“But I want him!” I cry. “Cam...I can’t explain it. It’s not just that he’s hot, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. With him...I don’t know...it’s like we’re meant to be. It’s like fate.”
“Don’t talk like that,” says Cam aggressively. “By saying that you doom yourself. There’ll be other guys. Guys with better taste in music and floppier hair and cuter smiles and dimples and-”
“-This supposed to make me feel better?”
“The point is,” she continues. “You’re, what, sixteen years old? And how many guys have you been with already?”
I squirm uncomfortably and mutter “A few...”
“I think that would be a little bit more than a few, Frank.”
“Fine, more than a few.”
“And there’ll be more than a few to come! You just need to be patient. Maybe you and Gerard isn’t such a good idea anyway. I’ve always found the friend to romance thing difficult to keep up. But if you still want Gerard as a friend you’re going to have to apologise to him because right now I bet he’s feeling as confused as you are. And you better do it quickly because honestly? You’re squashing my boob.”
Jeez. How is she always right? The friend thing, not the boob thing. Although she is right about the boob thing too. I detach myself from her embrace and attempt a watery smile that probably just ends up looking like I drank bleach for breakfast. Then I think of Gerard and it withers and dies. I don’t just want him as a friend. I want to marry him and live in a Scottish castle on the Isle of Skye and adopt a Chinese baby and live happily ever after. And rule the Universe obviously but that can come after we’re both retired.
Instantly reading the look on my face, Cam attempts again to make me smile properly. “Or, if you really think Gerard is the one, then bide your time. Wait a little while and if it is fate like you say then it’ll all work out.”
A tiny bubble of hope blossoms inside my chest. “So there’s a chance?”
“Stranger things have happened,” Cam shrugs. “Gerard’s with Cynthia now but of course he could just be using her to hide his burning passion for you.”
Oui, oui! C’est vrai! “You’re right! I can’t give up now! Gerard’s just needs someone to show him that it’s not a bad thing to let your feelings out. I’ve got to continue with the 20 Ways and we can be weed-chewing alpacas together!”
“Okay...what?”
“Never mind, never mind,” I say dismissively. “Cam, you are honestly the most wonderful human being in the whole world.”
“Well duh, no shit,” Cam rolls her eyes. “Now, why are you still here? Go get him!”
With a thousand more “thank you”s still on my mind I start casting around randomly for clues telling me where I might find Gerard. But before I can reach a rational conclusion my cell starts screaming Sabbath causing everyone to look up from their consecutive newspaper clippings in irritation. It appears The Source doesn’t appreciate my taste in music.
Upon looking down at the screen I literally almost have a heart attack. Because it’s Gerard. He’s calling me. Now. Oh my Gooooood. Should I answer it? What if he wants to yell at me? But I don’t want him to think I’m mad at him so I should talk. Or I could play hard to get? Oh please, when was the last time that worked for anybody?
I press the little green phone button and bring the cell to my ear. “Gerard?”
“Hey Frank,” Gerard greets. “So...um...you’re acting really sad and stuff. And I’m pretty sure you hate me right now which is probably justified because I’m a walking failure. And I hate you being mad at me, it feels like I just murdered a guy and now his wife is following me around everywhere yelling about how I ruined her future and throwing her babies in my face. I hope I didn’t ruin your future. I hope you’ll forgive me for whatever I did. Because you’re pretty much the only real friend I’ve made in a while...a part from this weird hobo kid who lives behind the confectionary at Poundland. Anyway, I, like, get the feeling that you get me and I’ve never had that before and I’ve known you, what, a week? So, yeah. I couldn’t find you so I thought I’d call.”
Omigod. I’m gonna cry. “Jeez Gerard,” I begin, not knowing quite how to reply to that. “I’m so sorry for stressing you out like that. Honestly, I’m not mad at you. I’m just...sick of this place, you know?” I give a hollow, empty laugh. “Like I said before, it can make a person go crazy.”
“Oh. Right. Cool,” he replies and I know he’s still perplexed. But it’s not like I can explain it to him. “Well...I just thought I’d see if you were okay.”
“Thanks,” I say, grinning. “Hey...where the hell are you?”
“Uh...standing in the school parking lot.”
I glance outside to see rain coming down like a meteor shower from the sleet grey sky. “What the fuck! It’s raining!”
“It was the only place I could get reception,” he answers brightly.
My grip softens slightly on the phone. “You would stand outside and risk hyperthermia for me?”
“It’s not too bad,” says Gerard but I can hear his teeth chattering very slightly. “Sorta refreshing.”
I imagine Gerard, his wet hair sticking to his face, shirt see through with the rain, crossing his arms over his body to conserve the body heat and I melt. The idea that someone would do that just to make sure I wasn’t upset is almost overwhelming.
“Get back inside, you will die,” I tell him warningly.
“Not until you swear you’re okay.”
“I’m okay!” I say hurriedly. “I’m okay now. Just get back inside!”
“Alright, fine,” Gerard laughs. “I’ll see you later?”
“That you will,” I nod. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
He hangs up. I hang up, feeling the instant need to sit down; my head is spinning so much. It’s official. Well, it was official before but now it’s ten times more official. I’m in lesbians.
I shove my cell back in my pocket and turn to Cam, a huge grin on my face. Despite the rain and the cold and the grey I feel as if all the colours have returned to the world. Cam notices for she looks up from the article she’s typing to survey me.
“Caaaaaaaaaaaam,” I begin sweetly. “Would you please remind me of the next stage on the list?”
“Frank, please no.”
“Don’t undermine me, Kosravi.”
“It would be so much easier if you just-”
“-Hububush! I am hearing talking but not the talking I am wanting to hear. Next stage on the list, if you please.”
Cam rolls her eyes. “Make him jealous,” she mutters. “Girls make the guys they like jealous.”
Too right they do, I think wickedly. Too right they fuckin do.
Just realised that this is quite a short chapter where not much happens. Sorry about that, the next will be longer and hopefully better.
Also, if you're looking for a good story my lil' sis has written this fic called "Ice". It's a seriously epic idea where the My Chem boys go skiing and stuff goes wrong and it's just really awesome. Here is the link: http://www.ficwad.com/story/182933
No joke, thank you so, so much. It means the world to know some people out there actually think something of the random thoughts that come into my head. I’m in debt to you all, I really am.
Play Hard to Get II
A sharp, stabbing pain clutches at my chest, as real and physical as the cupboard itself. It only intensifies as I stand there, unable to move, feeling like my soul just died at my feet and any moment now the sky will darken, the flames will start rising from dust and I’ll be burnt to a crisp in the apocalypse as I stare at Gerard and Cynthia and Gerard and Cynthia are blissfully unaware because I am invisible.
I don’t know why I should be so surprised, that’s all I ever was to anyone. To society I’m just another teenage delinquent who smokes pot and wishes they’d been born in 70s London. To the school I’m a high school flunkie with no interest in anything but an unattainable future. Even my own mother looks at me like something she found stuck to the sides of a drain pipe. Now the only person who ever saw me differently is playing tongue tennis with a motherfucking wannabe emo fangirl.
I know I should feel relieved that it’s just tongue tennis. Gerard’s hair is ruffled and sticks up at the back, Cynthia’s pale cheeks are flushed slightly and her makeup is smudged over her face but that is all they are doing. Standing millimetres apart, eating each other’s faces with their hands clamped to each other’s asses. An ugly black feeling rises up inside me mixed with repulsion and an urge to launch myself at Cynthia and yank those pathetic blue extensions right out of her scalp as every foul word I can think of jumps into my head. Ugly bitch. Dirty whore. Pathetic slut.
After what feels like an eternity Gerard’s eyes flicker open and pass over me, widening in realisation. He pulls apart with a sound like a plunger being yanked from a toilet basin and shakes his fringe in front of his face. Ten minutes ago I would have thought it the cutest thing. Now I just want to slap him.
“You can’t fuck in this store cupboard,” I deadpan.
“Oh!” Cynthia giggles and blushes. “Sorry. Didn’t know this space was reserved.”
“No, you literally can’t fuck in this store cupboard,” I repeat, rolling my eyes to stop them from forming tears. “The chemicals will give you genital cancer.”
Cynthia laughs, a sound like nails clawing a chalk board but Gerard just looks at me levelly from behind his hair. “We weren’t fucking,” he states simply in a quiet voice.
Oh. Well that’s just fantastic isn’t it? Okay Frank, I know that I let you believe you actually felt something for me, invited you over my house and made a bunch of homoerotic jokes before tearing your heart from your chest and ripping it into pieces for some disgusting walking stereotype but hey, at least we weren’t FUCKING!
I cross my arms over my chest and look away. Gerard nudges Cynthia gently. “We should probably get back to class,” he tells it.
It nods and they march straight pass me, Gerard keeping his eyes pointed at the floor. They’re halfway down the hallway when I stop them. “Gerard.”
He looks round. I fix him with my coldest stare. “You forgot your textbooks.”
“Oh. Right.” He hurries back and picks up the pile of books he was supposed to be in there for in the first place and sprints back off to where Cynthia is waiting, finally leaving me alone so that I can let a tear splash onto the tiles.
*
“Talk to me, Frank.”
“I am talking to you.”
“Not properly. I don’t get it...first it’s all you can do not to insult me and now, what, you ran out of things to say?”
“It’s not that,” I rub at my eyes tiredly. Tired of the conversation. Tired of everything. “I just...I’m just mad, I guess.”
“You’re mad at me?"
“No,” I reply quickly. “I’m mad at myself.”
“What for?”
“For...” For how I acted? For falling for you in the first place? Or for hoping you felt the same way? “Fuck, I don’t know.”
Too deep in confusion, Gerard returns to the assignment and says nothing.
For the rest of the day I am numb. I sleepwalk to my classes. I answer questions on automatic. I barely taste lunch. It’s as if the world has faded to a dull shade of grey, all the colours gone with my hope for humanity.
“Frank.”
I mean, mankind has never exactly been my favourite species, what with racism, genocide, dub-step, etcetera. But I’ve kinda learnt to tolerate it the way people have learned to tolerate wasps or junkie shit on alleyway walls. But now I would honestly be quite happy if Skynet did decide to just drop a nuke on us all.
“Frank.”
People suck, anyways. I’d much rather be an alpaca. I swear all they do is sit around and chew weed.
“FRANK!”
My eyes roll upwards to meet my friend’s. “Yes, Cameron.”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, frowning concernedly. “You’re acting like you just found out Lushotology isn’t a real religion! Did something happen?”
“Yes, Cameron.”
“Well, what was it?”
“Yes, Cameron.”
Cam snatches a roll of newspaper and brings it sharply across my face, jolting me out of my stupor. “Ouch!” I exclaim, rubbing at my cheek. “What the fuck was that for?!”
“Wasting paper,” Cam replies matter-of-factly. “I keep passing you sheets to make notes on and all you’ve done is draw stickmen hanging themselves.”
I look down. A sad pencil sketch lies before me. “Wouldja look at that,” I murmur, staring down at the doodle. “I’ve bloody well drawn a stickman hanging himself!”
Which earns me another smack across the face with a roll of newspaper. “Frankie-san! Tell me what happened!”
Sniff. “I caaaaaaaaan’t.”
“Why not?”
“Too” sniff “fuckin” sniff “painful.”
Cam pulls a sad face and puts an arm around me. “You’ll feel better after you tell me.”
I sigh and proceed to tell her the whole, sad, sorry tale. When I’m done Cam sighs and pulls me closer to her. “Baby g,” she says, voice heavy with lament. “I’m sorry.”
Full of self pity, I merely nod and bury my face in her shirt. She pats me on the back and we stay like that for a little while, Cam playing the sympathetic mother I never had and me playing the sad little confused kid with a gay crush on his new best friend until I can’t bear the silence for any longer. “It’s not fair,” I exclaim, voice muffled against her shoulder. “Just cos she’s got a vagina.”
“You don’t need a vagina to be cool, Frank.”
“But I want him!” I cry. “Cam...I can’t explain it. It’s not just that he’s hot, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. With him...I don’t know...it’s like we’re meant to be. It’s like fate.”
“Don’t talk like that,” says Cam aggressively. “By saying that you doom yourself. There’ll be other guys. Guys with better taste in music and floppier hair and cuter smiles and dimples and-”
“-This supposed to make me feel better?”
“The point is,” she continues. “You’re, what, sixteen years old? And how many guys have you been with already?”
I squirm uncomfortably and mutter “A few...”
“I think that would be a little bit more than a few, Frank.”
“Fine, more than a few.”
“And there’ll be more than a few to come! You just need to be patient. Maybe you and Gerard isn’t such a good idea anyway. I’ve always found the friend to romance thing difficult to keep up. But if you still want Gerard as a friend you’re going to have to apologise to him because right now I bet he’s feeling as confused as you are. And you better do it quickly because honestly? You’re squashing my boob.”
Jeez. How is she always right? The friend thing, not the boob thing. Although she is right about the boob thing too. I detach myself from her embrace and attempt a watery smile that probably just ends up looking like I drank bleach for breakfast. Then I think of Gerard and it withers and dies. I don’t just want him as a friend. I want to marry him and live in a Scottish castle on the Isle of Skye and adopt a Chinese baby and live happily ever after. And rule the Universe obviously but that can come after we’re both retired.
Instantly reading the look on my face, Cam attempts again to make me smile properly. “Or, if you really think Gerard is the one, then bide your time. Wait a little while and if it is fate like you say then it’ll all work out.”
A tiny bubble of hope blossoms inside my chest. “So there’s a chance?”
“Stranger things have happened,” Cam shrugs. “Gerard’s with Cynthia now but of course he could just be using her to hide his burning passion for you.”
Oui, oui! C’est vrai! “You’re right! I can’t give up now! Gerard’s just needs someone to show him that it’s not a bad thing to let your feelings out. I’ve got to continue with the 20 Ways and we can be weed-chewing alpacas together!”
“Okay...what?”
“Never mind, never mind,” I say dismissively. “Cam, you are honestly the most wonderful human being in the whole world.”
“Well duh, no shit,” Cam rolls her eyes. “Now, why are you still here? Go get him!”
With a thousand more “thank you”s still on my mind I start casting around randomly for clues telling me where I might find Gerard. But before I can reach a rational conclusion my cell starts screaming Sabbath causing everyone to look up from their consecutive newspaper clippings in irritation. It appears The Source doesn’t appreciate my taste in music.
Upon looking down at the screen I literally almost have a heart attack. Because it’s Gerard. He’s calling me. Now. Oh my Gooooood. Should I answer it? What if he wants to yell at me? But I don’t want him to think I’m mad at him so I should talk. Or I could play hard to get? Oh please, when was the last time that worked for anybody?
I press the little green phone button and bring the cell to my ear. “Gerard?”
“Hey Frank,” Gerard greets. “So...um...you’re acting really sad and stuff. And I’m pretty sure you hate me right now which is probably justified because I’m a walking failure. And I hate you being mad at me, it feels like I just murdered a guy and now his wife is following me around everywhere yelling about how I ruined her future and throwing her babies in my face. I hope I didn’t ruin your future. I hope you’ll forgive me for whatever I did. Because you’re pretty much the only real friend I’ve made in a while...a part from this weird hobo kid who lives behind the confectionary at Poundland. Anyway, I, like, get the feeling that you get me and I’ve never had that before and I’ve known you, what, a week? So, yeah. I couldn’t find you so I thought I’d call.”
Omigod. I’m gonna cry. “Jeez Gerard,” I begin, not knowing quite how to reply to that. “I’m so sorry for stressing you out like that. Honestly, I’m not mad at you. I’m just...sick of this place, you know?” I give a hollow, empty laugh. “Like I said before, it can make a person go crazy.”
“Oh. Right. Cool,” he replies and I know he’s still perplexed. But it’s not like I can explain it to him. “Well...I just thought I’d see if you were okay.”
“Thanks,” I say, grinning. “Hey...where the hell are you?”
“Uh...standing in the school parking lot.”
I glance outside to see rain coming down like a meteor shower from the sleet grey sky. “What the fuck! It’s raining!”
“It was the only place I could get reception,” he answers brightly.
My grip softens slightly on the phone. “You would stand outside and risk hyperthermia for me?”
“It’s not too bad,” says Gerard but I can hear his teeth chattering very slightly. “Sorta refreshing.”
I imagine Gerard, his wet hair sticking to his face, shirt see through with the rain, crossing his arms over his body to conserve the body heat and I melt. The idea that someone would do that just to make sure I wasn’t upset is almost overwhelming.
“Get back inside, you will die,” I tell him warningly.
“Not until you swear you’re okay.”
“I’m okay!” I say hurriedly. “I’m okay now. Just get back inside!”
“Alright, fine,” Gerard laughs. “I’ll see you later?”
“That you will,” I nod. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
He hangs up. I hang up, feeling the instant need to sit down; my head is spinning so much. It’s official. Well, it was official before but now it’s ten times more official. I’m in lesbians.
I shove my cell back in my pocket and turn to Cam, a huge grin on my face. Despite the rain and the cold and the grey I feel as if all the colours have returned to the world. Cam notices for she looks up from the article she’s typing to survey me.
“Caaaaaaaaaaaam,” I begin sweetly. “Would you please remind me of the next stage on the list?”
“Frank, please no.”
“Don’t undermine me, Kosravi.”
“It would be so much easier if you just-”
“-Hububush! I am hearing talking but not the talking I am wanting to hear. Next stage on the list, if you please.”
Cam rolls her eyes. “Make him jealous,” she mutters. “Girls make the guys they like jealous.”
Too right they do, I think wickedly. Too right they fuckin do.
Just realised that this is quite a short chapter where not much happens. Sorry about that, the next will be longer and hopefully better.
Also, if you're looking for a good story my lil' sis has written this fic called "Ice". It's a seriously epic idea where the My Chem boys go skiing and stuff goes wrong and it's just really awesome. Here is the link: http://www.ficwad.com/story/182933
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