(Frerard,etc, Read\Rate\Review please!) It's 2016 and it's before the takeover of BLI. Mikey has strange dreams that are the cause of his depression and Gerard's drinking problem sprouts from Mikey...
"Maybe if you stopped drinking so much he wouldn't get these so called dreams and want to kill himself!" Ray said as he continued lecturing me. Ray was my brother's best friend. I wasn't paying attention to what the tall man was saying, I just stared at Ray's pacing feet. He was nervous,it was un-natural for Ray to be pacing around the room like this.
Mikey,Ray and I lived in one bedroom crappy apartment in the city. It could be a squeeze sometimes and Ray had to sleep on the springy,fucked up,old couch. It was always gloomy in the city,smoke and exhaust fumes hanging in the air like light fog. The apartment was right next to BLI headquarters, where Ray,sadly, worked.
I didn't like BLI, they're the ones who try to make a lie out of everything. They work with the government,slowly eliminating other superstores and controlling us.They slip happy pills in their food products, I swear. They think I'm crazy, they say Better Living Industries are a company full of good people that will help fix the "good ol' USA". I refuse to believe in people like th-
"Gerard are you even listening to me?"
Ray's eyes were tired and his long afro was a mess (more messy than usual). His white BLI uniform and black pants were clean though, Ray was a neat freak. He rubbed his square jaw and sighed. Ray's eyes traveled quickly to his watch. He slowly looked up. "Gerard I got to go, my shift is in 15 minutes, just go talk to Mikey. Please?" I looked into his eyes. Something was bothering him, and I had to find out.
I walked into Mikey and I's dark bedroom. The black curtains were blocking all possible light (even though there wasn't any in this depressing city) and Mikey's comforter covered him. I sat on the edge of his twin bed,which was against the black wall. "I know you're not sleeping Mikey." I murmured as I started to rub his back.After a few minutes his voice cracked under the covers,"I know,you know." "Care to tell me about these dreams Ray told me about?" I asked. I had begun to think he fell asleep but then his whisper cut through the eerie silence. "I have many of them Gerard,they scare me. I had one about us, Me,you,Ray, and Bob. We uh were on a boat like in the 1950's or 40's. We were in the army I think, we had old army uniforms on. I had round-rimmed glasses on,it was weird. We got off the boat and started to run on the beach. You yelled "MIKEY GO!" and ran to a barricade. People were shooting at us and I was nervous and slow. I turned my head then I remember a really sharp pain in my chest. I fell,gasping for air and you were screaming as Ray ran over to me. You tried to get to me but someone was holding you back. Your screams were blood curdling. I died and I saw your face as you screamed, "NO,NOT HIM,MIKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEY" It was scary..." His head had poked out of the blanket when he told the story. I stopped stroking Mikey. "You always have dreams like this?" I asked quietly. He nodded as he looked at me. "There was also a really strange one, we were all on a parade float with this black haired man.We had like black marching band uniforms on. There was debris everywhere and your face was solemn. But oh my god, your hair was white,Gee,like peroxide blonde. It was so pretty." My little brother stared up at me with his hazel eyes. He didn't look a lot like me,except his eye color. I ran my fingers through my greasy yellow-blonde hair. "Maybe it will look like that one day."
Despite Ray's begging and Mikey's constant whimpering, I went to the corner bar. I couldn't stand to see my little brother so depressed and still like he was. Drinking was outlawed in 2014 but nobody took law seriously as they did when cigarettes were outlawed,too. I sat at a red bar stool next to my friend Steve,who already seemed drunk. "Hows the radio station going?" I asked him. He shrugged and downed another shot of alcohol. "They keep sending me letters saying if I don't play less violent music they'll shut me down," He grimaced. Steve never liked beards but he was starting to grow one. A star spangled bandana was wrapped around his balding head.
"BLI is sending you shit like that? Who do they think they are?"
I looked up from my brown glass bottle. It was a man with a scowl and black hair that matched his small gauges. His eyes glimmered like his lip ring. His hair wasn't long and yet it wasn't short, it was swoopy. The handsome man polished a glass as his scowl turned up. "Hey you're Gerard aren't you?" He wasn't nervous at all. Most people stayed away from me since I was the 'dangerous violent fighter'. It was only once and that McCracken kid was asking for it, nobody insults Mikey. "Yeah,why,shortie?"
"Because I hear stories about you all the fucking time dude, I'm Frank. Frank Iero." He held out his hand and I took it hesitantly and shook it. I felt my cheeks grow hot, whatever it was just the alcohol in my system, I thought.