Gerard thinks of ways he could pull off being a girl, but to no avail, he ends up where he is today. -Oneshot-
He wanted to walk into a spa and get a mud bath and a big, husky guy to cut up cucumber slices and put them on his eyes. Then he wanted to get that husky guy to help him out and show him to the shower and help him wash his hair and he’d end up on his back. Oh, how he wish that man was wide and fit. Could hold him down with one hand.
He wish he could shave his legs and under his arms without being called a fagot, get his eyebrows and upper lip done and be able to walk into Victoria’s Secret without getting sunny stares. Especially if he was alone.
He wanted to be able to go to a night club with loud music in a cut off shirt and watch all the men gawk at him as he danced. Why couldn’t he get those simple pleasures of life? Why couldn’t he be a girl?
He asked Mikey about why he was cursed with a gross looking penis and facial hair. Mikey just laughed at him and told him to enjoy being pregnant and period free. Gerard decided some cramps and bleeding every month was a fair trade for tits.
To be honest, Gerard did look good as a male. And he did have a beautiful wife and a stunning little girl, but he also really, really wanted to be a woman at the same time. He wanted to wear a latex, pink dress with poodles on it and not be called a Sissy.
He could become a drag queen and dress up as Lady Gaga every other week, but what if someone finds out and he gets in the tabloid. Even worse, what if Lyn-z found out?
He thought about all the plastic surgerys, some female hormones to grow some tits, even just pretending to be a woman when he was alone. He could block off part of his studio and turn it into a girls college dorm-room and pretend he was a college girl for two hours a day.
After years of being skeptical and criticising his own body, he decided he was ok. Other people wasn’t as successful as him and had it way worse. He could deal with a penis, after all.
But sometimes, if Lyn-z woke up real late, she’d hear him in the bathroom. sometimes she’d hear the snaps of her makeup cases close, and wake up and half of it be out. Gerard always blamed it on the cats, but she knew better.
Hell, Gerard knew she knew. But they never talked about it. She knew about Gerard kinks and such, and there’s been countless band era’s with him expressing himself with a eyeliner brush and some black blush.
So, they went on. They lived their lives as normal as they could. There’s no real story here. But sometimes I think people deserve the facts.