Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Gerard Way's Diary
Chapter Seven: June - Boyfriend? NO!
9 reviewsJune: I'm being neglected, I want to start a band, who is this person? Why wasn't I invited and what the hell does Mikey know?
2Exciting
Disclaimer:Don't own My Chem, Don't own Bridget Jones ... Don't own Shakira's song or Shakira, don't own Mary Poppings and don't own Pencey Prep. Should be all. Only story lone is mine.
WARNINGS:Swearing. Don't live your life like this, you will be put in rehab. LOL! But I will still concider you normal.
For you:I'm so sorry it took so long. I lost my groove, it's back now. I'm groovy again. Please stay with me people, I love you all.
And, ThreeCheersForMCR_x - your chapter is August. It'll hopefully be up on the weekend. Keep an eye out for it. Thanks for requesting, least I can do is give you what you want. In this story, you're not asking too much, HA HA.
Chapter seven: June - Boyfriend? NO!
Thursday, June 1st
86 kg (who cares!), 10 beers, 89 cigarettes, 0 joints (don't think I will be getting any in a while. Will make up for it with more coffee).
5 p.m. College: My room. Sense of accomplishment that I felt at the end of last month has now completely evaporated. Now that I have my keys back, my brother back and my relationship with Frank is back to the way it has always and always should be, I find that there really doesn't seem like there's much left to do.
Funny how it's the big things in life, the angst, the drama, that makes us feel busy and when we finally fix everything it's all slow and boring again.
I have to face facts ... drama is exciting!
6:30 p.m. Have suddenly realised that I have not seen the ex in over a month ... weird.
6:45 p.m. Have suddenly realised that this is very unlike her ... even weirder.
7 p.m. Have suddenly realised what this means. My crazy, stalker, ex girl friend Amy has now finally gotten over me. I am doing cartwheels on the ceiling - just like in Mary Poppings when they all got high on whatever illegal substance was put into that tea.
7:15 p.m. Have suddenly realised what this means! Amy is officially out of the picture. I'm now all alone. My ex has given up on me ... why am I seriously so upset about this?
Saturday, June 3rd
87 kg (blah), 12 beers (hmmm), 78 cigarettes (good?), 91 coffees (remember, it's making up for missing joints).
3 p.m. I don't know why, but I was in a bad mood all day today. Maybe just that feeling of nobody caring is really getting to me. Worst part is, Mikey blew me off this weekend because he had a date with his girl friend Alisha. My younger brother has officially out grown me!
And to make matters worse, Sarah, my last chance, has been acting a little strange since our whole library incident.
Every time I see her she's hanging with her giggling friends or, worst of all, with Frank and his stupid mates. I mean, why did I have to pick a chick that's clearly in with the popular crowd?
Every single time I make eye contact with her when she's hanging with Frank and his friends; she gives me this odd sort of smile and then diverts her eyes as though she never even saw me. She is messing with my head!
Frank probably told her about how much of a dumb ass wimp I was, not to mention how much of a coward I was by avoiding him for an entire month! Now she thinks I'm a loser as well!
Oh man, I'm going to end up dating my lap top pretty soon.
Meh, least it will play World of Warcraft with me all day long.
5:30 p.m. College: My room. Was just roaming the halls looking lonely and miserable when my phone went off:
"Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story -"
Several people passing me by stopped to point and laugh at me. FUCK YOU MIKEY!
One day I swear I'll get him back for all of this.
So, all I could do was glance around as though it wasn't my message tone and that I to was looking for the source. But I don't think I was very convincing - I just looked like an even bigger dick head, spinning around looking at everyone suspiciously when they already knew it was me.
I marched back to my room angrily, cause seriously, why do I always have to look like the biggest loser that ever lived?
Fuming still, I opened my text message, just to see who I could blame my embarrassment on. Whoever they were, they were dead meat!
Yet, what it said made me forget all about being laughed at in the hall way. The fact that it took several moments to load completely was enough to have my full attention:
Armless man in long jacket walks into
bathroom. Seeing he needs help, he asks
other man "Can u help me point my penis?"
Man accepts but doesn't look. Then he
thinks "If I'm touching it ... I have the right 2
look" So he does & what he see's horrifies
him. He jumps back and lets go asking
"What the hell is wrong with it?" The 'armless'
man pulls his other arm out of the jacket and
says "I dunno, but I ain't touchin' it!"
It was from my mystery texter, the one I haven't heard form in a while, the one I thought had abandoned me along with everyone else. But what am I supposed to say back?
"Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story -"
Another one:
Just for you 'cause you looked like
you needed some cheering up. Hope it
made you smile again :)
And you know what ... it really did.
7:30 p.m. Okay ... who the hell is this person? Why do they seem to be the only person that cares about my well being? Why are they the only person that can make me laugh just by a simple text message?
They said they were shy, I probably don't know them. They're probably one of those quiet types that hide in dark corners ... hmm, sounds familiar. I'm not sending them to myself am I?
That's it! Tomorrow I'm going to keep an eye out for anyone sitting on their own or looking like they want to just disappear into whatever chair they're sitting in. If they look at me and smile or wave or something, I'll ask them if they're my stalker. Because, seriously, this is driving me insane!
Tuesday, June 6th
86 kg (makes no sense), 0 beers (am poor! noooooooo), 200 cigarettes (no alcohol, so it's okay), 90000 coffees (okay, this isn't working).
Okay, so was going to look for my mystery texter today, but I was kind of distracted by what happened in art class. I still can't figure it out!
Firstly, I over slept and I was late for my lesson. The one thing Mr. Barry absolutely hates is when you're late to his class. I dunno, he just takes it so personally like you wouldn't dare have anything better to do then be on time.
I was 45 minutes late. Which basically meant he was going to have my balls on a platter.
I even contemplated not going, it would soften the blow for sure. But, as I walked towards the art room door, thought better of it and turned around to head back to my room, I saw Chris, Marcus' brother, the one who wants me dead. He was walking up the hall behind me, chatting away with his group of thugs. He looked up and spotted me, an evil grin spreading across his face.
"Well, well, well ... look who it is. Hey Way! Hallway's empty, you wanna locate your balls in those tight pants so we can go a round?"
I froze, clasping my bag to my shoulder, wishing I had a couple of bricks in there so that I could swing it around into his face and end this once and for all. As it so happens, I forgot the bricks.
Note to self: In future, fill bag full of bricks.
"Erm ... nope - no thanks. Sorry ... no balls in these pants today!"
I grabbed my crouch for a little bit of effect and his friends snickered at me. Chris clearly wasn't impressed by my chickening out and he cracked his knuckles and marched towards me purposefully.
Naturally, I let out a small squeal before taking a few steps backwards and then slipping sideways through the art room door.
It slammed shut behind me a little too loudly and every single face turned to look and see who the hell dared show up so late to Mr. Barry's class.
Mr. Barry's marker made a horrible squeaking noise as it slid down the white board at my late appearance. He looked beyond livid.
"Um ... sorry - er - I was ... studying."
SHIT!
I swear it was all I could think of.
The rest of the class whispered amongst themselves, some smirking wickedly, clearly excited that I was going to get yelled at. Yet, Mr. Barry just looked me up and down a few times, sighed loudly and then waved an arm around to point to my empty seat.
"Take a seat Mr. Way."
It took me a whole 5 minutes to realize that he was serious. He had actually just let me off! It was a miracle. I almost opened my big mouth to ask him for some sort of punishment, just because it felt so bizarre to be let off, but I'm not that stupid.
So, I took my seat ... right next to Marcus! And then I started to think that that was most likely my punishment ... if it was, touché Mr. Barry - one for you, none for me.
But, to my great surprise, Marcus just gave me a very bizarre look. It was so unusual that I just had to stare at him right on back until I finally gave in and whispered, "What the fuck have I done now?"
I said it quietly, but he heard me and he merely looked at me as though he wanted nothing more then to cut off my arms and legs, make a soup out of them and feed them to my head.
"How the hell did you get to be Mr. Barry's favorite?" Marcus questioned fiercely.
I just stared at him in disbelief. Favourite? That guy hated me, it was so fucking obvious!
The first art work I ever did in my first year, he completely crushed me! It was a dark piece, something I was well known for and as he inspected it he frowned and said, "Mr. Way, anyone who told you to be yourself couldn't have given you worse advice!"
So, you can imagine how stunned I was to hear Marcus assume that I was Mr. Barry's favourite. Still, he hadn't been as nasty as he usually was lately and he did just let me off for something he would usually kill over! Maybe I was somehow becoming his favourite ... was that even possible?
Marcus was still glaring at me dangerously. I have no idea why it bothered him so much that I could quite possible be the favourite but as I realised how much it was pissing him off, I couldn't help but have a little fun whilst I could.
In other words, I decided to torture him as much as I could before his older brother beat the living shit out of me.
So, as Mr. Barry finished discussing our theory work, which we would be working on for the first half of the lesson, I decided to call him over so he could explain to me the parts I missed in the first 45 minutes.
I didn't really need an explanation. I don't mind admitting that I'm a genius when it comes to art, I already knew the answers. It was just so satisfying pissing Marcus off that much. I did it all for him!
So as I sat there playing dumb, Mr. Barry taking a seat next to me when he realised it could take a while to explain it all to me, I took great satisfaction in the look on Marcus' face. Every time I asked Mr. Barry another stupid question, he would make this face at me from behind our teachers back. It was the most satisfying part of my day ... that is until things started to get a little weird.
I was so caught up in the joyful swelling of my heart each time Marcus gave me the "I want to fucking gut you" look, that I didn't stop to think about how weird it was that my art teacher was not loosing his patience with me.
Another thing about Mr. Barry was that he was a very impatient guy. If anyone asked him to repeat some information they missed because they 'accidentally' fell asleep during one of his theory lectures, he would simply tell them it was their bad luck and they would have to catch up in their own time rather then waste more of his.
After running out of material, I realised I was asking him the same questions over and over again, just wording them differently. Every time I asked, he answered, not even a hint of annoyance in his voice. It wasn't until we started on our practical work and I was alone with my thoughts and my canvas that I realised how unusual it was. Perhaps I really was the favourite.
What on earth had I done to deserve this?
And then it happened....
As I was standing there busily painting, I realised that I was being watched by someone standing just behind me. Worried that it was Marcus ready to sabotage my painting, I turned around to see who it was ... to my great surprise, it was Mr. Barry.
"S-sir?" I questioned, wondering why the hell he was taking so much interest in my work. He didn't get my paintings, so he always just tended to leave me well alone when it came to this part of the lesson, but today was different.
"You need to change your stroke. Turn your brush to the side and loosen your grip, it will give it the softer effect you need for that section."
"Er ... okay?"
I couldn't believe it. Was he seriously giving me advice?
So, I tried it. After all, it was the first real guidance I had received from my art teacher and I wanted to learn as much as I could. But, I couldn't see much of a difference.
"No, no, no. Like this Gerard."
And, that's when it happened. Next thing I knew Mr. Barry had reached forward to put his hand over my hand. He readjusted my fingers and guided them up and over the area I was working on. Sure, the effect was perfect, he actually was a good teacher, but the contact freaked the living hell out of me.
"See ... like that," he said as he took his hand off mine and ... Smiled! He fucking smiled!
I just smiled back, my brain completely blank.
And, it's still blank. I have no idea what happened. But something told me, with all the bad luck I had been having lately, that it couldn't ever, ever be anything good. I don't care how much it pissed Marcus off.
Friday, June 9th
90 kg (OMG how????????), 15 beers (weight trauma), 90 cigarettes (stress over weight), 800 coffees (this has got to stop, I’m beginning to answer my phone before it even rings).
1 p.m. After the weirdness of art class the other day, things have thankfully gone back to normal. Well, as normal as my weird life can be. That doesn't even make any sense.
Still, Mr. Barry seems to have recovered from whatever stroke he had last time, because he's gone back to treating me the same way he always has. Marcus still has the shits with me though, that's enough to keep a smug smile on my face all day long.
Yet, every now and then paranoia comes along and smacks my across the face shouting at me to "WAKE THE FUCK UP!" Something bad is bound to come my way sooner or later.
6 p.m. College: The library. Okay, I officially don't understand girls ... At all!
I'm not a moron, I've noticed Sarah has been ignoring me, hell, even Ben noticed she's been avoiding me and he's usually so busy with his face in a book that he wouldn't notice two unicorns having sex on top of his homework. And that's saying something because he loves his homework.
Somehow, I've managed to deal with it. Sure, I'm lonely as hell and I wont lie, I'm attracted to her, but it's typical really. Whenever I'm happy, I almost expect something or someone to come along and ruin it all. So naturally, I never really battered an eyelid when she just up and ignored me after making out with me and then freaking out in the library that time.
Then, just as I accept it and move on, she goes and fucks it all up again.
So, I was walking down the hall towards my room when I look up to see her walking towards me. I just smiled politely, half expecting her to just keep on walking right past me, but to my great surprise she stopped and smiled at me.
"Hey Gerard, how you been stranger?"
"Good ... how have you been?" I was so taken aback that I seriously had nothing better to say to her.
She just giggled like she usually does and next thing I know we're talking away as though we had never made out and then ignored each other for over a week. It was beyond bizarre.
"So, you want to go grab a cup of coffee or something?"
I wanted to, boy did I ever, but lately I was getting sick and tired with the way people were treating me. I wasn't just someone that could be toyed with. Either she was my friend/maybe girl friend all the time or not at all, she couldn't just pick and choose when it best suited her.
"You know what. I can't, I'm trying to cut back."
She just gave me this disbelieving look as she rolled her eyes at me.
"Oh please Gerard, last I checked, you drank so much coffee that your eyes stayed open even when you sneezed."
What an over exaggeration! No one can do that!
"And I realised that was definitely a problem for me, so I cut back. Just trying to take it one day at a time."
"Okay, well I have to return this book to the library, so at least accompany me there? Just to catch up?"
I'm such a sucker. It seemed such a simple request that I didn't decline. So next thing I know I'm standing there in the library talking to Sarah whilst she returns her book, then decides to get some more out, then decides she wants to take over an hour to select said books.
I must admit, time flew by, it was great talking to her again. Then, I'm not even sure how or when it started happening, but next thing I know she's leaning in towards me, getting closer and closer with each word she spoke. Suddenly, her lips are on mine again and we're completely making out in the 'self help' section of the library.
When I finally came to my senses and pulled away, she just smiled at me, her arms still wrapped around my neck as she twirled some of my hair around her finger.
"Um ..."
I had no idea what the fuck to say, she had totally caught me off guard.
"Thanks for helping me pick out my books," she said.
Then, just like that, she stopped playing with my hair, removed her arms from me and walked away.
I just stood there, completely dumb founded once again. How did she always manage to do that to me?
"Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story. There's the -"
I actually jumped in surprise when my phone went off, I was that deep into my own thoughts.
Suddenly the evil librarian stuck her head around the corner of the book shelf and glared at me as she pointed towards the exit.
"Get out if you're going to play that rock and roll music in here!"
All I could do was give her the same look I would give to a drunk chick smoking the wrong end of a cigarette as I headed towards the exit thinking about how stupid she was.
Message ended up being from Mikey:
Hey man, we better be hangin'
out this weekend. I'll see you
tomorrow mornin'.
P.S. Gay ring tone bro! :)
I swear he knows the right times to do all the wrong things.
8 p.m. College: My room. Seriously. What the fuck! I don't understand girls! What's her problem? Does she like me? Is she using me? I don't get it anymore.
And as I sit here listening to the sounds of Bert and Quinn partying next door, I begin to realize that I never really understand guys either.
We're all not as different as we think we are.
Sunday, June 11th
80 something, 0 beer (still drunk from last night, I think), 0 cigarettes (can't sit up), 0 coffee's (not getting out of bed even for coffee, that's how bad the hang over is).
11 a.m. Mikey just left, moaning about his killer hang over. I remember the good old days when we used to just sit around in bed all day on a Sunday, eating junk food and sculling water, dealing with our pain together. But, now that he has a 'girl friend' I have to suffer with my self-inflicted illness all on my own.
Still, he made up for his absence by taking me out to the local club last night. It was just unfortunate that, whilst the gesture was great, the company was not so good.
He arrived on Saturday morning jumping around excitedly. Naturally, I was in no mood for his happiness until I had my morning cups of coffee.
"I don't understand, why can't you just get coffee from the cafeteria?" he questioned as I insisted that we go up to the local Starbucks.
"Sarah's sitting at the table right near the coffee," I explained as though he should notice these things.
"Ummm, so?"
"So, she thinks I've quit drinking it."
"You know Gee, it amazes me how far you'll go to cover up your own lies sometimes. You're so stubborn."
Got to say though, I love that Mikey may question my intentions, but he never tries to make me go back on anything. He just tagged along with me, humming a tune as he almost skipped to my car.
"Why are you so happy?" I had to ask, it was bothering the crap out of me. No one should be that happy before midday on a Saturday.
"Didn't I tell you? I'm taking you to the club tonight, the one just round the corner from your college. There's an awesome band playing. I don't know much about them, but I've heard some of their stuff. You'll love them, trust me."
I must admit, it certainly brightened my mood.
Mikey and I used to go and check out local bands every chance we got, lately; the distance had made it a little hard to keep up with that tradition. I was so excited to be doing something like that with him again that I almost joined in with his pointless humming as we actually managed to get a parking spot right out the front of Starbucks.
From there, my day only continued to get better and better as me and Mikey hung around watching the newest horror movies and drinking beer all day long. He even played me a few tracks from the band we were going to see that night. The more songs I heard, the more excited I got, Mikey was right, they totally rocked, I loved them.
Naturally, stupid me, I should have realised everything was a little too good to be true. As we drunkenly stumbled around my room getting ready for the club, it didn't even occur to me that my luck was about to change.
Whilst the club was just a few blocks away, the walk actually did us both some good. When Mikey miss judged how low he had to have his pants to safely step into them and, as a result, ended up tripping over the waist of his jeans and slamming his head against my bed post causing me to fall off my bed from laughing so hard, we realised that we had to sober up if we ever wanted to get into the club.
Clearly we did something right because even though I held my ID upside down as I flashed it at the security guard proudly and Mikey's fake ID was so obviously not him that an idiot could have spotted the difference 20 feet away, somehow we both managed to get let in without too much hassle.
The place was packed out so, of course, I headed straight for the bar. I never do to well in huge social events unless I'm thoroughly wasted, so naturally, I set about doing that straight away. But as soon as the band we had been waiting for took the stage I almost spat the large mouthful of beer I had taken back out into my glass.
There, on the stage, introducing himself and the rest of the band was Frank Iero. He stuttered drunkenly into the microphone as he strummed a few chords on his guitar, as though making sure he still could. I felt my jaw hit the bar.
"Mikes, please tell me this is just the opening band! You didn't tell me Frank was in it!"
"I didn't know," Mikey said, holding up his arms as though it was a stick up and he was trying to show he was being cooperative. Apparently I can be quite scary when I find out that the guy on the top of my hate list is the lead singer in a band that I have just discovered I love.
"What's the big deal anyway? You said you liked them! Now, just because you know Frank's in it you're going to hate them, aren't you?"
I just glared at him.
"Oh come on Gee -"
"Don't you 'oh come on Gee' me, it's the principle of the thing Mikes."
But, as soon as the band started playing, I couldn't help but loose myself in the music. They were really good live. The only problem was, the more I sat there getting drunker and drunker, watching them play, the more I realised that I truly did hate Frank Iero.
I wanted it to be me up there on the stage. I wanted to jump around and scream into the microphone. I wanted every face in the club looking at me and singing and dancing along with me. Right at that moment, I wanted to be Frank.
"You got to admit Gee, the guys a fucking awesome guitar player," Mikey shouted at me above the thumping amps.
The worst part was, he was right.
Frank could play the guitar! And not just good enough to pull off a few good songs, the guy was so great that I couldn't help but stare at him in awe.
"I think I need another beer," was all I could say as I ordered myself one immediately.
Then, half way through that particular beer, I realize someone must have slipped something into it because I was suddenly struck by another feeling. Jealousy.
As I watched Frank stand on his tiptoes, clearly at the effort screaming his lungs out into the microphone cost him, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous that I wasn't a friend of his.
I know, it's mega lame, but between songs he waved at people, shook hands, made dedications and blew kisses. I felt like I was in the presence of some rock star and that I was demanding his attention. It made me sick to the stomach. How could one guy be so fucking popular? How could one guy be so fucking talented?
I even found myself jealous of his band mates. Frank punched one of them on the back as he yelled out some more lyrics; he pushed one to the ground and stood over the top of another as he played his guitar like his very life depended on it. I don't know why, but it was like I wanted that to be me.
I wanted Frank in my non-existent band, I wanted that to be me he was hitting and playing the guitar next to and singing with ... and it was at that moment I was very grateful that they stopped playing and left the stage, because I honestly couldn't take anymore of the very bizare feelings jumping around in my head.
3 p.m. College: My room. Yes, I'm still in bed. I just can't stop thinking about that high I felt watching Frank and his band on that stage at the club.
Never in my whole life did I want to be noticed by people. I always enjoyed just blending into the background and doing my own thing, yet, at the same time, doesn't everyone crave to be noticed?
A band? Why would I want to be in a band? I'm an artist, I'm terrible at the guitar and I'm the furthest thing from a rock star I have ever seen.
Way to go Frank. Thanks for bringing me back down to earth and making me realize how much of an untalented loser I really am.
Tuesday, June 13th
I know I need to get over it, but man, I feel like an idiot for sitting with Frank when he was sick.
I feel like an idiot for thinking that his friends didn't give a shit about him.
After what I saw on the weekend, the guy had no problems with his friends. I can't believe I wasted hours of my life, sitting there watching him sleep, feeling sorry for him for being so sick and all alone.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why would a guy as popular as Frank care about one more guy especially when that one more guy was just little old Gerard Way?
I think, more importantly though, why the fuck do I care so much?
...Guess because I feel like an idiot for feeling sorry for him. The guy didn't need my pity. I can't believe I ever thought the guy was decent.
I hate him.
Thursday, June 15th
82 kg (must be all the beer and no food), 0 beers (better not), 100 cigarettes (got to keep it even), 88 coffees (couldn't handle 100).
8 a.m. I can't sleep! I hate it when I can't sleep! Had a great dream last night though, it was about Mikey and I making our own band.
Have been inspired, I am going to get Mikey to bring the old guitar from home with him this weekend. I'm going to get motivated and I am going to practice like crazy.
Two can play at this game Iero ... you just wait. I'm going to be a better guitar player then you'll ever be.
8:25 a.m. Caught up in the moment I decided to look up some guitar tabs and chords on the internet, just so I'm refreshed and ready for when Mikey brings the old guitar with him this weekend.
8:45 a.m. Oh my god! How do people play this instrument? What the hell is a fret?
Late night. College: My room. That's it! I've had enough! I'm sick of everything. Worst of all, I'm sick of not knowing what people are thinking. What the hell do people want from me?
Sarah I think is the route to all of my problems at the moment. I've had enough of her games. Does she have some weird sort of obsession with the library? Both times we've made out she's dragged me there and then just lunged at me. Sure, I like books to, but they're not that much of a turn on.
So, today, I decided to distract my thoughts about the fact that I would never be as good as Frank at the guitar, by instead pondering on what her problem was? Both topics made me equally mad, but I hadn't thought on it for a while so it was long over due for some good over thinking.
Naturally, I decided to just come straight out and ask Sarah what her deal was. So, I took a deep breath and walked towards the table that her and her friends were sitting at in the cafeteria. Just as I was about there, her expression lit up and she embraced the new face that arrived by her side. It was Frank.
FUCK, FUCKITY, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!
I almost lost my cool.
So, what do you think I did? That's right ... I walked straight past them all, fuming on the inside.
I hate every last one of them.
Friday, June 16th
DON'T FUCKING CARE!!!!!!!!
9 a.m. Was suddenly hit by a wonderful idea this morning. I'm going to swallow what little pride I have left, march right up to Sarah and ask her to go out with me.
I think I have the right. It's fair to say that she's been leading me on from day one, if she say's no, that's it, I wash my hands of her forever and Frank can have her. If she says yes ... well, we'll deal with that when the time comes.
Okay, here I go. It's now or never.
9:30 a.m. Soon ... I just need a little more sleep first.
2 p.m. College: My room. I have now, on top of all my other problems, become suspicious of everyone around me. Why is it that people are so hard to understand? I mean, all we really have to do is open our mouths and say how we feel, yet, somehow, none of us can!
Except me, because today I finally got the guts to do just that. I must have walked past Sarah about a dozen times before I finally just grabbed my balls, just to remind myself that I did in fact have some, and then I marched right up to her and her group of friends and asked to talk to her privately.
My heart was hammering against my rib cage; I hated these sorts of confrontations. And Sarah looked so, so good today.
"Gerard, hey. What's up? You look nervous, how's not drinking coffee working out for you?"
"What? Ohhhhh, the no coffee thing, right - um - yeah, good."
"Really? Wow, I didn't think you'd last this long. Weren't you the one that complained to me that instant coffee took to long?"
Oh come on! I mean, I don't drink that much coffee. It's not like I'm addicted to it or anything, I can stop whenever I want, I just don't want to.
"Hmm, sounds like something I'd say yeah. But - ah - look, I have to ask you something ..."
"Oh? Sounds kind of serious. Well, go on."
I took a deep breath.
"Sarahgooutwithme."
"Sorry? I didn't catch that."
I swear it was just my accent, I wasn't that nervous!
"Be my girl friend. Go out with me."
It was like a giant elephant suddenly just spotted a peanut and got his huge body off me. This weight was just removed from my shoulders, it was terrific. She just looked at me as though she was about to announce she had just accidentally run over my brother. It wasn't quite the effect I had been going for.
"Oh ... um - well, Gerard -"
"You know what, don't worry about it then ... its fine, I understand."
I couldn't help myself; I was so used to making excuses for other people that I always just came up with that cover for them. I'm a good person.
"No, no, Gerard, it's not like that at all ... I like you, I do. It's just -"
"What?" I couldn't take it anymore. What was so fucking wrong with me?
"Well ... I-it's just; one of my good friends really likes you. And I know it's stupid but I really value their friendship and I know they'll never forgive me if I ruin any chance they may have with you. I'm so sorry Gerard, but I'm going to have to say no."
My heart stopped, I barely even registered what she had said, all I heard was "no". Then, as I stood there stupidly in silence, somehow her words finally hit my brain as though it had all been slightly delayed. Was she pulling my leg?
"A friend? I barely know any of your friends. Who is it?" A simple question I thought, but she bit her lip nervously as though the question was a bomb waiting to go off if she said the wrong thing.
"I - I can't tell you. It's really complicated. Please don't ask me, they'll tell you when they're ready. I really hope this doesn't get in the way of our friendship though. We're still good right?"
I was crestfallen.
"Sure."
With that, all I could do was walk away feeling a little hurt. Was she lying to me? She seemed to be genuine enough. But I hardly spoke to any of her friends, I don't know how I could have made an impression on any of them. Sure they laughed at my drunken jokes one night, but I didn't think any of them were looking at me in any sort of affection.
Could this person be my mystery texter to? It would explain how they got my number. But, then again, I didn't know Sarah back when they had my number. Maybe I've known this person longer then I thought.
I don't know anyone else! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!
Sunday, June 18th
Weightless, to ill to drink, to ill to smoke, to ill to drink coffee.
10 a.m. College: My room. Have once again woken up on Sunday morning with my best friend. Hangover.
Unfortunately though, I couldn't sleep. I just had to tell someone about my night, so I decided to tell my diary. Lame right. Oh I know, I'm already wondering about whether or not I should cross that part out, just so I don't have to look at how sad I've become.
Scribbling takes too much effort though.
Okay, so, Mikey blew me off again. Big surprise right? Still, he has sworn that he's going to make it all up to me soon. He better have bought me something kick ass to make up for all this neglect.
Naturally, I didn't want to waste a good Saturday night, so I started drinking. Oh I know, big shock right! It was probably the first Saturday I had been stuck in the silence of my room, which only made the laughter, loud music and other sounds of partying next door in Bert and Quinn’s’ room all the more unbearable.
I was so tempted just to go in there and forget about all the shit that they had put me through and just smoke their pot and drink their booze to get through it all.
So, I went for a walk instead. I mean, I had to get out of there. One more karaoke version of Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" and I would just have to go in there and join in; it was too much to bare.
There I was, looking like a drunken lonely loser stumbling around the college corridors. That was when I heard it; music and laughter loud enough to grab my attention. Whatever was going on sounded inviting. So, of course, I invited myself.
I followed the sounds and found myself at someone's open bedroom door. The room was huge, bigger then mine, and it was packed full of people, some just hanging around in the corridor outside.
To my great surprise, I actually recognized one of the guys that was hanging around outside the packed room.
"Ben?"
I couldn't believe Ben was at a party ... with music!
"Gerard? Woah, what you doing down this end on a Saturday night?"
I had no idea what he meant, but I suddenly felt quite offended that Ben was at a party and he never even asked me if I wanted to go? I always asked him to everything I went to. As much as I wracked my brain I couldn't remember him even mentioning some party in some room on Saturday night.
"Just, looking for something to do," I giggled and I was suddenly aware that Ben had probably never even seen me drunk before. He laughed along with me, clearly noticing. "I didn't think you went to parties."
"I'm here every Saturday night. It's just a social thing, nothing special."
Nothing special? I was by then seriously offended that I had never been invited to one of these things. I mean, every Saturday night? For how long? Since the beginning of college?
Now, I was drunk, so it just spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
"You've never even invited me. Not once."
Ben looked at me as though I had just jumped out of his closet and scared the shit out of him.
"Shit, I'm sorry man; I just didn't think it was your scene. I mean, there's drinking and stuff and I think some of the guys smoke pot, but it's not like your other parties, I seriously just didn't think you'd be interested, I thought you'd find it boring."
I stood there just staring at him. Did he think I was some alcoholic drug dealer or something? What does he mean it's not my scene? I don't have a scene. Party is my scene, so long as there is booze.
"Boring? I was drinking in my room, on my own."
Something seemed to snap inside of Ben and all of a sudden he was showing me off to everyone as though he was some proud parent, it was really odd to say the least. I just smiled and shook hands. Best thing was, people just kept passing me beers and offering me some of their cigarettes or Vodka, it was fantastic. How could Ben ever think this wasn't my scene?
Then, suddenly, I realised something was a bit off, I was receiving some rather unusual comments as I was introduced to the many faces in and out of the room:
"Gerard right? Woah, didn't think I'd ever see you at one of our gatherings."
"Ger-ard? Kind of hard to pronounce. Just a question ... you got any coke on you man?"
"Oh hey man, I see you hanging with that guy Bert all the time. What the hell are you doing here?"
"You need a beer man? We got heaps, just help yourself, they're in the bar fridge."
"Hey Gerard, I'll get you a joint."
As more and more of the comments came my way I suddenly realised that I wasn't quite as invisible as I had once thought. It seemed I had developed a reputation and not just for being an art geek who was going to get beaten up by the school's boxing champion jock; I was the alcoholic who attended parties that were way to crazy for anyone else to go to.
I honestly wasn't sure if I should be proud or extremely ashamed and even worried by the way people saw me.
Still, as I kept getting beers and joints passed my way, there was no way in hell I was going to complain. It was fantastic. It was also the first party I had been to in ages where I could actually just be my self. Sure, I was fairly wasted by now, but I didn't feel I had to prove myself to anyone. And Ben just seemed so proud of me, it was weird, yet fun.
And, that was when I saw him. Oh yes, you know who. Frank was there!
"Oh shit ... Iero's here?"
Ben gave me a look and rolled his eyes.
"Don't start man, he's always here. Didn't really think it was his scene either but apparently you two are full of surprises."
"You don't like Frank? How can you not like Frank?" some random drunk questioned me as I continued to glare at Frank's back.
I tried my best to ignore him but the room wasn't that big and as our small conversation group continued to grow in size, I found we were getting closer and closer to Frank and his growing group of friends. It was getting to the stage where I could here nearly everything that was being said in his group.
"Oh my god, Gerard Way isn't it?" I looked up to find myself face to face with a girl that looked, if possible, drunker then me. She was practically yelling at me and she was swaying so badly it was as though she was adrift at sea on a rolling log made of jelly. Of course, that could have been me though.
"That's me ... who you?"
"My name's Vanessa. I thought you hung around with Bert McCracken."
"Yeah, I do ... usually."
What was with people and associating me with Bert? It was beginning to sound like we were one in the same person.
Vanessa just giggled at me.
"What? Are you two fighting? Trouble in paradise?"
I just stared at her in confusion?
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Um, well he's gay right? Aren't you two together?"
I heard Ben choke on his drink next to me, Vanessa just looked at me patiently waiting for the answer, even several people in our conversation group stopped what they were doing to look at me as though seriously waiting for my answer,
That was when I saw Frank. He had abandoned the conversation he had been having and was now looking at me oddly, I couldn't quite read his expression. Several other people in his group were also listening in and staring at me curiously.
"No! We're not together!"
I sipped at my beer again and again until people seemed to sense my uneasiness and went back to what they were doing before Vanessa had asked the one question that had clearly made me awkward.
I really have no idea why, but for some reason I turned around to see if Frank was still giving me that look. He wasn't, he was too busy with the new addition to his group. A girl, a hot girl, and she approached the group and locked arms with Frank before leaning in and kissing him affectionately on the lips.
Straight away, I hated her. I couldn't explain it. Her blonde hair, blue eyes, slender frame, she was clearly some popular, cheerleading bimbo. Trust Frank to date someone like that.
I tried my best to ignore it, but our group was slowly joining Frank's group and I was to drunk to even notice that pretty soon I was standing right near that blonde preppy girl. The worst part was, she was wearing a tight T-shirt that looked like it was about three sizes too small for her. And it had "Pencey Prep" written in big block letters on the front of it.
It was the name of Frank's band. His girl friends was proudly wearing, or rather not wearing, his band advertised across her no doubt fake boobs.
That was when she turned to me and stuck out one perfectly groomed hand, complete with false nails with French tips.
"Hi. Name's Sherry, I haven't seen you here before."
Great, so she was a regular to.
"Gerard," I said bitterly, taking her hand. I was drunk; I'm not the aggressive type when I'm drunk. But it gave my great satisfaction to see my dirty, nail bitten hand in her pristine one. By this time, Frank was watching on with great interest. "Nice shirt."
Why did I say that?
See, this is why I hate being drunk sometimes, what you really want to say is, "did you go through you're 4 year olds wardrobe again?" but it always comes out wrong.
"Oh, it's his band, I don't really like the music that much, too much yelling for me," she swung her head towards Frank but never took her eyes off me.
At that moment, just because she said she didn't like them, I felt the need to say that I did. So I did.
"You kidding? I thought they were pretty cool actually, made me want to play the guitar."
I was distracted by a movement from behind her; Frank was snickering slightly and running a hand through his hair. He seemed a little awkward; perhaps he sensed what I was doing with his girl friend, disagreeing with her because she was a hussy.
"Gerard ... Gerard," Sherry started repeating as she seemed to search her brain for where she had heard the name before. "You're not the guy that's dating Bert McCracken are you?"
AH! These people!
"Oh my god! I made out with him a few times, that doesn't mean we're going out!"
I want to slap myself in the face every time I replay that line in my head. This is when me and alcohol never get along, when it makes me say stupid things like that!
I got several odd looks after that, including a rather surprised look from Frank. Actually, the look was so bizarre I can't really put it to just one look. He did this sort of double take as though he was unsure the words had actually left my lips. But they had.
And I'm pretty sure it didn't take long before I left the party and went back to drinking in the sanctuary of my own room. I was just so embarrassed; I couldn't believe the scrutiny I had been under.
Still, I kind of had fun.
Except Sherry. Frank is now second on my hate list, only to her.
Wednesday, June 21st
I don't understand. I can't get over the party on Saturday night. I mean, do I like Bert. Sure, I know we don't talk that much at the moment, but every time we do, it's like we never stopped talking for weeks on end, we just pick up where we left off and we're all over each other again.
They say your true feelings come out when you're drunk, well every time I'm drunk around him we make out, we're all over each other. Does that mean I like him? Are we going out?
I mean, we went on that date, there was that episode in the car, sure, I haven't seen him in a few weeks, but he's still right there, maybe he's just giving me space. What will happen when I see him again? Will things just pick up where we left off?
Sometimes I hate relationships, it doesn't matter if you're in a same sex one or an opposite sex one, it's all just as fucking messed up and confusing.
Sunday, June 25th
8 a.m. Can't sleep, so much going through my head. After last weekend I have decided to stay away from the parties for a little while.
One weekend down. I'm more bored then I have ever been in my whole life. What a perfectly good waste of a weekend.
I just can't win.
Tuesday, June 27th
82 kg (hmmm, must be because have replaced food with beer), 16 beers (replacing food), 80 cigarettes (to put a stop to hunger I feel when get munchies when drinking), 80 coffees (kill taste buds).
Late night. College: My room. Just got off the phone with Mikey ... okay, that's a lie, I'm still technically on the phone with him, I'm messaging and calling him desperately. I don't know, it was just the way he said it...
So, he calls me up and I pick up immediately, kind of surprised to see him calling so late, he's usually at Alisha's place at that hour. I picked up, thinking it was a mistake and his phone had just gone off in his pocket again and all I would hear would be some muffled voices and the shuffling noises that remind me that I am in fact in Mikey's pocket. It's weird, but cool, try it sometime.
"Mikes? What's up?"
"Gee! Oh my god! You won't believe what I just found about your best friend."
Best friend? Ben? Bert? Who was my best friend anymore?
"Mikes ... who?"
"Frank you idiot! I just - oh, you're not going to believe this."
He sounded kind of hurried, but my heart had suddenly sped up. I was excited!
What was so important that Mikey just thought I had to know?
"What? Mikey, what? Tell me!"
There was laughter. "Na, I think I'm going to make you wait for this ... you just wont believe - I can't believe - oh you're going to piss yourself when I tell you this -"
"Mikey, fucking spit it out!"
There was a pause, it almost killed me.
"Oh shit ... I just realised something. No fucking way! SHIT, no way! Gee, I'll call you back later. Oh shit, I just realised something - where I saw ... I'll call you back!"
And with that he hung up.
And yes, I called, I've messaged, I'm desperate to know what was so fucking important, but he's dead to the world.
Mikey Way has something on Frank Iero and he's not going to tell me so easily.
"Darn you Mikey!!!!!"
----
AN: YAY! Okay, I'm back on track. Once again, I'm so so sorry it took so long. I promise, next time it wont take that long. HA HA.
Maybe, maybe not. I don't know what I'm talking about. But thank you all for sticking with me and next update should be in a couple of days, if your lucky, tomorrow, he he. I'm not sure how fast I can finish it, I'm on a roll, so just maybe :) Thanks again guys, you're my world.
WARNINGS:Swearing. Don't live your life like this, you will be put in rehab. LOL! But I will still concider you normal.
For you:I'm so sorry it took so long. I lost my groove, it's back now. I'm groovy again. Please stay with me people, I love you all.
And, ThreeCheersForMCR_x - your chapter is August. It'll hopefully be up on the weekend. Keep an eye out for it. Thanks for requesting, least I can do is give you what you want. In this story, you're not asking too much, HA HA.
Chapter seven: June - Boyfriend? NO!
Thursday, June 1st
86 kg (who cares!), 10 beers, 89 cigarettes, 0 joints (don't think I will be getting any in a while. Will make up for it with more coffee).
5 p.m. College: My room. Sense of accomplishment that I felt at the end of last month has now completely evaporated. Now that I have my keys back, my brother back and my relationship with Frank is back to the way it has always and always should be, I find that there really doesn't seem like there's much left to do.
Funny how it's the big things in life, the angst, the drama, that makes us feel busy and when we finally fix everything it's all slow and boring again.
I have to face facts ... drama is exciting!
6:30 p.m. Have suddenly realised that I have not seen the ex in over a month ... weird.
6:45 p.m. Have suddenly realised that this is very unlike her ... even weirder.
7 p.m. Have suddenly realised what this means. My crazy, stalker, ex girl friend Amy has now finally gotten over me. I am doing cartwheels on the ceiling - just like in Mary Poppings when they all got high on whatever illegal substance was put into that tea.
7:15 p.m. Have suddenly realised what this means! Amy is officially out of the picture. I'm now all alone. My ex has given up on me ... why am I seriously so upset about this?
Saturday, June 3rd
87 kg (blah), 12 beers (hmmm), 78 cigarettes (good?), 91 coffees (remember, it's making up for missing joints).
3 p.m. I don't know why, but I was in a bad mood all day today. Maybe just that feeling of nobody caring is really getting to me. Worst part is, Mikey blew me off this weekend because he had a date with his girl friend Alisha. My younger brother has officially out grown me!
And to make matters worse, Sarah, my last chance, has been acting a little strange since our whole library incident.
Every time I see her she's hanging with her giggling friends or, worst of all, with Frank and his stupid mates. I mean, why did I have to pick a chick that's clearly in with the popular crowd?
Every single time I make eye contact with her when she's hanging with Frank and his friends; she gives me this odd sort of smile and then diverts her eyes as though she never even saw me. She is messing with my head!
Frank probably told her about how much of a dumb ass wimp I was, not to mention how much of a coward I was by avoiding him for an entire month! Now she thinks I'm a loser as well!
Oh man, I'm going to end up dating my lap top pretty soon.
Meh, least it will play World of Warcraft with me all day long.
5:30 p.m. College: My room. Was just roaming the halls looking lonely and miserable when my phone went off:
"Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story -"
Several people passing me by stopped to point and laugh at me. FUCK YOU MIKEY!
One day I swear I'll get him back for all of this.
So, all I could do was glance around as though it wasn't my message tone and that I to was looking for the source. But I don't think I was very convincing - I just looked like an even bigger dick head, spinning around looking at everyone suspiciously when they already knew it was me.
I marched back to my room angrily, cause seriously, why do I always have to look like the biggest loser that ever lived?
Fuming still, I opened my text message, just to see who I could blame my embarrassment on. Whoever they were, they were dead meat!
Yet, what it said made me forget all about being laughed at in the hall way. The fact that it took several moments to load completely was enough to have my full attention:
Armless man in long jacket walks into
bathroom. Seeing he needs help, he asks
other man "Can u help me point my penis?"
Man accepts but doesn't look. Then he
thinks "If I'm touching it ... I have the right 2
look" So he does & what he see's horrifies
him. He jumps back and lets go asking
"What the hell is wrong with it?" The 'armless'
man pulls his other arm out of the jacket and
says "I dunno, but I ain't touchin' it!"
It was from my mystery texter, the one I haven't heard form in a while, the one I thought had abandoned me along with everyone else. But what am I supposed to say back?
"Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story -"
Another one:
Just for you 'cause you looked like
you needed some cheering up. Hope it
made you smile again :)
And you know what ... it really did.
7:30 p.m. Okay ... who the hell is this person? Why do they seem to be the only person that cares about my well being? Why are they the only person that can make me laugh just by a simple text message?
They said they were shy, I probably don't know them. They're probably one of those quiet types that hide in dark corners ... hmm, sounds familiar. I'm not sending them to myself am I?
That's it! Tomorrow I'm going to keep an eye out for anyone sitting on their own or looking like they want to just disappear into whatever chair they're sitting in. If they look at me and smile or wave or something, I'll ask them if they're my stalker. Because, seriously, this is driving me insane!
Tuesday, June 6th
86 kg (makes no sense), 0 beers (am poor! noooooooo), 200 cigarettes (no alcohol, so it's okay), 90000 coffees (okay, this isn't working).
Okay, so was going to look for my mystery texter today, but I was kind of distracted by what happened in art class. I still can't figure it out!
Firstly, I over slept and I was late for my lesson. The one thing Mr. Barry absolutely hates is when you're late to his class. I dunno, he just takes it so personally like you wouldn't dare have anything better to do then be on time.
I was 45 minutes late. Which basically meant he was going to have my balls on a platter.
I even contemplated not going, it would soften the blow for sure. But, as I walked towards the art room door, thought better of it and turned around to head back to my room, I saw Chris, Marcus' brother, the one who wants me dead. He was walking up the hall behind me, chatting away with his group of thugs. He looked up and spotted me, an evil grin spreading across his face.
"Well, well, well ... look who it is. Hey Way! Hallway's empty, you wanna locate your balls in those tight pants so we can go a round?"
I froze, clasping my bag to my shoulder, wishing I had a couple of bricks in there so that I could swing it around into his face and end this once and for all. As it so happens, I forgot the bricks.
Note to self: In future, fill bag full of bricks.
"Erm ... nope - no thanks. Sorry ... no balls in these pants today!"
I grabbed my crouch for a little bit of effect and his friends snickered at me. Chris clearly wasn't impressed by my chickening out and he cracked his knuckles and marched towards me purposefully.
Naturally, I let out a small squeal before taking a few steps backwards and then slipping sideways through the art room door.
It slammed shut behind me a little too loudly and every single face turned to look and see who the hell dared show up so late to Mr. Barry's class.
Mr. Barry's marker made a horrible squeaking noise as it slid down the white board at my late appearance. He looked beyond livid.
"Um ... sorry - er - I was ... studying."
SHIT!
I swear it was all I could think of.
The rest of the class whispered amongst themselves, some smirking wickedly, clearly excited that I was going to get yelled at. Yet, Mr. Barry just looked me up and down a few times, sighed loudly and then waved an arm around to point to my empty seat.
"Take a seat Mr. Way."
It took me a whole 5 minutes to realize that he was serious. He had actually just let me off! It was a miracle. I almost opened my big mouth to ask him for some sort of punishment, just because it felt so bizarre to be let off, but I'm not that stupid.
So, I took my seat ... right next to Marcus! And then I started to think that that was most likely my punishment ... if it was, touché Mr. Barry - one for you, none for me.
But, to my great surprise, Marcus just gave me a very bizarre look. It was so unusual that I just had to stare at him right on back until I finally gave in and whispered, "What the fuck have I done now?"
I said it quietly, but he heard me and he merely looked at me as though he wanted nothing more then to cut off my arms and legs, make a soup out of them and feed them to my head.
"How the hell did you get to be Mr. Barry's favorite?" Marcus questioned fiercely.
I just stared at him in disbelief. Favourite? That guy hated me, it was so fucking obvious!
The first art work I ever did in my first year, he completely crushed me! It was a dark piece, something I was well known for and as he inspected it he frowned and said, "Mr. Way, anyone who told you to be yourself couldn't have given you worse advice!"
So, you can imagine how stunned I was to hear Marcus assume that I was Mr. Barry's favourite. Still, he hadn't been as nasty as he usually was lately and he did just let me off for something he would usually kill over! Maybe I was somehow becoming his favourite ... was that even possible?
Marcus was still glaring at me dangerously. I have no idea why it bothered him so much that I could quite possible be the favourite but as I realised how much it was pissing him off, I couldn't help but have a little fun whilst I could.
In other words, I decided to torture him as much as I could before his older brother beat the living shit out of me.
So, as Mr. Barry finished discussing our theory work, which we would be working on for the first half of the lesson, I decided to call him over so he could explain to me the parts I missed in the first 45 minutes.
I didn't really need an explanation. I don't mind admitting that I'm a genius when it comes to art, I already knew the answers. It was just so satisfying pissing Marcus off that much. I did it all for him!
So as I sat there playing dumb, Mr. Barry taking a seat next to me when he realised it could take a while to explain it all to me, I took great satisfaction in the look on Marcus' face. Every time I asked Mr. Barry another stupid question, he would make this face at me from behind our teachers back. It was the most satisfying part of my day ... that is until things started to get a little weird.
I was so caught up in the joyful swelling of my heart each time Marcus gave me the "I want to fucking gut you" look, that I didn't stop to think about how weird it was that my art teacher was not loosing his patience with me.
Another thing about Mr. Barry was that he was a very impatient guy. If anyone asked him to repeat some information they missed because they 'accidentally' fell asleep during one of his theory lectures, he would simply tell them it was their bad luck and they would have to catch up in their own time rather then waste more of his.
After running out of material, I realised I was asking him the same questions over and over again, just wording them differently. Every time I asked, he answered, not even a hint of annoyance in his voice. It wasn't until we started on our practical work and I was alone with my thoughts and my canvas that I realised how unusual it was. Perhaps I really was the favourite.
What on earth had I done to deserve this?
And then it happened....
As I was standing there busily painting, I realised that I was being watched by someone standing just behind me. Worried that it was Marcus ready to sabotage my painting, I turned around to see who it was ... to my great surprise, it was Mr. Barry.
"S-sir?" I questioned, wondering why the hell he was taking so much interest in my work. He didn't get my paintings, so he always just tended to leave me well alone when it came to this part of the lesson, but today was different.
"You need to change your stroke. Turn your brush to the side and loosen your grip, it will give it the softer effect you need for that section."
"Er ... okay?"
I couldn't believe it. Was he seriously giving me advice?
So, I tried it. After all, it was the first real guidance I had received from my art teacher and I wanted to learn as much as I could. But, I couldn't see much of a difference.
"No, no, no. Like this Gerard."
And, that's when it happened. Next thing I knew Mr. Barry had reached forward to put his hand over my hand. He readjusted my fingers and guided them up and over the area I was working on. Sure, the effect was perfect, he actually was a good teacher, but the contact freaked the living hell out of me.
"See ... like that," he said as he took his hand off mine and ... Smiled! He fucking smiled!
I just smiled back, my brain completely blank.
And, it's still blank. I have no idea what happened. But something told me, with all the bad luck I had been having lately, that it couldn't ever, ever be anything good. I don't care how much it pissed Marcus off.
Friday, June 9th
90 kg (OMG how????????), 15 beers (weight trauma), 90 cigarettes (stress over weight), 800 coffees (this has got to stop, I’m beginning to answer my phone before it even rings).
1 p.m. After the weirdness of art class the other day, things have thankfully gone back to normal. Well, as normal as my weird life can be. That doesn't even make any sense.
Still, Mr. Barry seems to have recovered from whatever stroke he had last time, because he's gone back to treating me the same way he always has. Marcus still has the shits with me though, that's enough to keep a smug smile on my face all day long.
Yet, every now and then paranoia comes along and smacks my across the face shouting at me to "WAKE THE FUCK UP!" Something bad is bound to come my way sooner or later.
6 p.m. College: The library. Okay, I officially don't understand girls ... At all!
I'm not a moron, I've noticed Sarah has been ignoring me, hell, even Ben noticed she's been avoiding me and he's usually so busy with his face in a book that he wouldn't notice two unicorns having sex on top of his homework. And that's saying something because he loves his homework.
Somehow, I've managed to deal with it. Sure, I'm lonely as hell and I wont lie, I'm attracted to her, but it's typical really. Whenever I'm happy, I almost expect something or someone to come along and ruin it all. So naturally, I never really battered an eyelid when she just up and ignored me after making out with me and then freaking out in the library that time.
Then, just as I accept it and move on, she goes and fucks it all up again.
So, I was walking down the hall towards my room when I look up to see her walking towards me. I just smiled politely, half expecting her to just keep on walking right past me, but to my great surprise she stopped and smiled at me.
"Hey Gerard, how you been stranger?"
"Good ... how have you been?" I was so taken aback that I seriously had nothing better to say to her.
She just giggled like she usually does and next thing I know we're talking away as though we had never made out and then ignored each other for over a week. It was beyond bizarre.
"So, you want to go grab a cup of coffee or something?"
I wanted to, boy did I ever, but lately I was getting sick and tired with the way people were treating me. I wasn't just someone that could be toyed with. Either she was my friend/maybe girl friend all the time or not at all, she couldn't just pick and choose when it best suited her.
"You know what. I can't, I'm trying to cut back."
She just gave me this disbelieving look as she rolled her eyes at me.
"Oh please Gerard, last I checked, you drank so much coffee that your eyes stayed open even when you sneezed."
What an over exaggeration! No one can do that!
"And I realised that was definitely a problem for me, so I cut back. Just trying to take it one day at a time."
"Okay, well I have to return this book to the library, so at least accompany me there? Just to catch up?"
I'm such a sucker. It seemed such a simple request that I didn't decline. So next thing I know I'm standing there in the library talking to Sarah whilst she returns her book, then decides to get some more out, then decides she wants to take over an hour to select said books.
I must admit, time flew by, it was great talking to her again. Then, I'm not even sure how or when it started happening, but next thing I know she's leaning in towards me, getting closer and closer with each word she spoke. Suddenly, her lips are on mine again and we're completely making out in the 'self help' section of the library.
When I finally came to my senses and pulled away, she just smiled at me, her arms still wrapped around my neck as she twirled some of my hair around her finger.
"Um ..."
I had no idea what the fuck to say, she had totally caught me off guard.
"Thanks for helping me pick out my books," she said.
Then, just like that, she stopped playing with my hair, removed her arms from me and walked away.
I just stood there, completely dumb founded once again. How did she always manage to do that to me?
"Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story. There's the -"
I actually jumped in surprise when my phone went off, I was that deep into my own thoughts.
Suddenly the evil librarian stuck her head around the corner of the book shelf and glared at me as she pointed towards the exit.
"Get out if you're going to play that rock and roll music in here!"
All I could do was give her the same look I would give to a drunk chick smoking the wrong end of a cigarette as I headed towards the exit thinking about how stupid she was.
Message ended up being from Mikey:
Hey man, we better be hangin'
out this weekend. I'll see you
tomorrow mornin'.
P.S. Gay ring tone bro! :)
I swear he knows the right times to do all the wrong things.
8 p.m. College: My room. Seriously. What the fuck! I don't understand girls! What's her problem? Does she like me? Is she using me? I don't get it anymore.
And as I sit here listening to the sounds of Bert and Quinn partying next door, I begin to realize that I never really understand guys either.
We're all not as different as we think we are.
Sunday, June 11th
80 something, 0 beer (still drunk from last night, I think), 0 cigarettes (can't sit up), 0 coffee's (not getting out of bed even for coffee, that's how bad the hang over is).
11 a.m. Mikey just left, moaning about his killer hang over. I remember the good old days when we used to just sit around in bed all day on a Sunday, eating junk food and sculling water, dealing with our pain together. But, now that he has a 'girl friend' I have to suffer with my self-inflicted illness all on my own.
Still, he made up for his absence by taking me out to the local club last night. It was just unfortunate that, whilst the gesture was great, the company was not so good.
He arrived on Saturday morning jumping around excitedly. Naturally, I was in no mood for his happiness until I had my morning cups of coffee.
"I don't understand, why can't you just get coffee from the cafeteria?" he questioned as I insisted that we go up to the local Starbucks.
"Sarah's sitting at the table right near the coffee," I explained as though he should notice these things.
"Ummm, so?"
"So, she thinks I've quit drinking it."
"You know Gee, it amazes me how far you'll go to cover up your own lies sometimes. You're so stubborn."
Got to say though, I love that Mikey may question my intentions, but he never tries to make me go back on anything. He just tagged along with me, humming a tune as he almost skipped to my car.
"Why are you so happy?" I had to ask, it was bothering the crap out of me. No one should be that happy before midday on a Saturday.
"Didn't I tell you? I'm taking you to the club tonight, the one just round the corner from your college. There's an awesome band playing. I don't know much about them, but I've heard some of their stuff. You'll love them, trust me."
I must admit, it certainly brightened my mood.
Mikey and I used to go and check out local bands every chance we got, lately; the distance had made it a little hard to keep up with that tradition. I was so excited to be doing something like that with him again that I almost joined in with his pointless humming as we actually managed to get a parking spot right out the front of Starbucks.
From there, my day only continued to get better and better as me and Mikey hung around watching the newest horror movies and drinking beer all day long. He even played me a few tracks from the band we were going to see that night. The more songs I heard, the more excited I got, Mikey was right, they totally rocked, I loved them.
Naturally, stupid me, I should have realised everything was a little too good to be true. As we drunkenly stumbled around my room getting ready for the club, it didn't even occur to me that my luck was about to change.
Whilst the club was just a few blocks away, the walk actually did us both some good. When Mikey miss judged how low he had to have his pants to safely step into them and, as a result, ended up tripping over the waist of his jeans and slamming his head against my bed post causing me to fall off my bed from laughing so hard, we realised that we had to sober up if we ever wanted to get into the club.
Clearly we did something right because even though I held my ID upside down as I flashed it at the security guard proudly and Mikey's fake ID was so obviously not him that an idiot could have spotted the difference 20 feet away, somehow we both managed to get let in without too much hassle.
The place was packed out so, of course, I headed straight for the bar. I never do to well in huge social events unless I'm thoroughly wasted, so naturally, I set about doing that straight away. But as soon as the band we had been waiting for took the stage I almost spat the large mouthful of beer I had taken back out into my glass.
There, on the stage, introducing himself and the rest of the band was Frank Iero. He stuttered drunkenly into the microphone as he strummed a few chords on his guitar, as though making sure he still could. I felt my jaw hit the bar.
"Mikes, please tell me this is just the opening band! You didn't tell me Frank was in it!"
"I didn't know," Mikey said, holding up his arms as though it was a stick up and he was trying to show he was being cooperative. Apparently I can be quite scary when I find out that the guy on the top of my hate list is the lead singer in a band that I have just discovered I love.
"What's the big deal anyway? You said you liked them! Now, just because you know Frank's in it you're going to hate them, aren't you?"
I just glared at him.
"Oh come on Gee -"
"Don't you 'oh come on Gee' me, it's the principle of the thing Mikes."
But, as soon as the band started playing, I couldn't help but loose myself in the music. They were really good live. The only problem was, the more I sat there getting drunker and drunker, watching them play, the more I realised that I truly did hate Frank Iero.
I wanted it to be me up there on the stage. I wanted to jump around and scream into the microphone. I wanted every face in the club looking at me and singing and dancing along with me. Right at that moment, I wanted to be Frank.
"You got to admit Gee, the guys a fucking awesome guitar player," Mikey shouted at me above the thumping amps.
The worst part was, he was right.
Frank could play the guitar! And not just good enough to pull off a few good songs, the guy was so great that I couldn't help but stare at him in awe.
"I think I need another beer," was all I could say as I ordered myself one immediately.
Then, half way through that particular beer, I realize someone must have slipped something into it because I was suddenly struck by another feeling. Jealousy.
As I watched Frank stand on his tiptoes, clearly at the effort screaming his lungs out into the microphone cost him, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous that I wasn't a friend of his.
I know, it's mega lame, but between songs he waved at people, shook hands, made dedications and blew kisses. I felt like I was in the presence of some rock star and that I was demanding his attention. It made me sick to the stomach. How could one guy be so fucking popular? How could one guy be so fucking talented?
I even found myself jealous of his band mates. Frank punched one of them on the back as he yelled out some more lyrics; he pushed one to the ground and stood over the top of another as he played his guitar like his very life depended on it. I don't know why, but it was like I wanted that to be me.
I wanted Frank in my non-existent band, I wanted that to be me he was hitting and playing the guitar next to and singing with ... and it was at that moment I was very grateful that they stopped playing and left the stage, because I honestly couldn't take anymore of the very bizare feelings jumping around in my head.
3 p.m. College: My room. Yes, I'm still in bed. I just can't stop thinking about that high I felt watching Frank and his band on that stage at the club.
Never in my whole life did I want to be noticed by people. I always enjoyed just blending into the background and doing my own thing, yet, at the same time, doesn't everyone crave to be noticed?
A band? Why would I want to be in a band? I'm an artist, I'm terrible at the guitar and I'm the furthest thing from a rock star I have ever seen.
Way to go Frank. Thanks for bringing me back down to earth and making me realize how much of an untalented loser I really am.
Tuesday, June 13th
I know I need to get over it, but man, I feel like an idiot for sitting with Frank when he was sick.
I feel like an idiot for thinking that his friends didn't give a shit about him.
After what I saw on the weekend, the guy had no problems with his friends. I can't believe I wasted hours of my life, sitting there watching him sleep, feeling sorry for him for being so sick and all alone.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why would a guy as popular as Frank care about one more guy especially when that one more guy was just little old Gerard Way?
I think, more importantly though, why the fuck do I care so much?
...Guess because I feel like an idiot for feeling sorry for him. The guy didn't need my pity. I can't believe I ever thought the guy was decent.
I hate him.
Thursday, June 15th
82 kg (must be all the beer and no food), 0 beers (better not), 100 cigarettes (got to keep it even), 88 coffees (couldn't handle 100).
8 a.m. I can't sleep! I hate it when I can't sleep! Had a great dream last night though, it was about Mikey and I making our own band.
Have been inspired, I am going to get Mikey to bring the old guitar from home with him this weekend. I'm going to get motivated and I am going to practice like crazy.
Two can play at this game Iero ... you just wait. I'm going to be a better guitar player then you'll ever be.
8:25 a.m. Caught up in the moment I decided to look up some guitar tabs and chords on the internet, just so I'm refreshed and ready for when Mikey brings the old guitar with him this weekend.
8:45 a.m. Oh my god! How do people play this instrument? What the hell is a fret?
Late night. College: My room. That's it! I've had enough! I'm sick of everything. Worst of all, I'm sick of not knowing what people are thinking. What the hell do people want from me?
Sarah I think is the route to all of my problems at the moment. I've had enough of her games. Does she have some weird sort of obsession with the library? Both times we've made out she's dragged me there and then just lunged at me. Sure, I like books to, but they're not that much of a turn on.
So, today, I decided to distract my thoughts about the fact that I would never be as good as Frank at the guitar, by instead pondering on what her problem was? Both topics made me equally mad, but I hadn't thought on it for a while so it was long over due for some good over thinking.
Naturally, I decided to just come straight out and ask Sarah what her deal was. So, I took a deep breath and walked towards the table that her and her friends were sitting at in the cafeteria. Just as I was about there, her expression lit up and she embraced the new face that arrived by her side. It was Frank.
FUCK, FUCKITY, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!
I almost lost my cool.
So, what do you think I did? That's right ... I walked straight past them all, fuming on the inside.
I hate every last one of them.
Friday, June 16th
DON'T FUCKING CARE!!!!!!!!
9 a.m. Was suddenly hit by a wonderful idea this morning. I'm going to swallow what little pride I have left, march right up to Sarah and ask her to go out with me.
I think I have the right. It's fair to say that she's been leading me on from day one, if she say's no, that's it, I wash my hands of her forever and Frank can have her. If she says yes ... well, we'll deal with that when the time comes.
Okay, here I go. It's now or never.
9:30 a.m. Soon ... I just need a little more sleep first.
2 p.m. College: My room. I have now, on top of all my other problems, become suspicious of everyone around me. Why is it that people are so hard to understand? I mean, all we really have to do is open our mouths and say how we feel, yet, somehow, none of us can!
Except me, because today I finally got the guts to do just that. I must have walked past Sarah about a dozen times before I finally just grabbed my balls, just to remind myself that I did in fact have some, and then I marched right up to her and her group of friends and asked to talk to her privately.
My heart was hammering against my rib cage; I hated these sorts of confrontations. And Sarah looked so, so good today.
"Gerard, hey. What's up? You look nervous, how's not drinking coffee working out for you?"
"What? Ohhhhh, the no coffee thing, right - um - yeah, good."
"Really? Wow, I didn't think you'd last this long. Weren't you the one that complained to me that instant coffee took to long?"
Oh come on! I mean, I don't drink that much coffee. It's not like I'm addicted to it or anything, I can stop whenever I want, I just don't want to.
"Hmm, sounds like something I'd say yeah. But - ah - look, I have to ask you something ..."
"Oh? Sounds kind of serious. Well, go on."
I took a deep breath.
"Sarahgooutwithme."
"Sorry? I didn't catch that."
I swear it was just my accent, I wasn't that nervous!
"Be my girl friend. Go out with me."
It was like a giant elephant suddenly just spotted a peanut and got his huge body off me. This weight was just removed from my shoulders, it was terrific. She just looked at me as though she was about to announce she had just accidentally run over my brother. It wasn't quite the effect I had been going for.
"Oh ... um - well, Gerard -"
"You know what, don't worry about it then ... its fine, I understand."
I couldn't help myself; I was so used to making excuses for other people that I always just came up with that cover for them. I'm a good person.
"No, no, Gerard, it's not like that at all ... I like you, I do. It's just -"
"What?" I couldn't take it anymore. What was so fucking wrong with me?
"Well ... I-it's just; one of my good friends really likes you. And I know it's stupid but I really value their friendship and I know they'll never forgive me if I ruin any chance they may have with you. I'm so sorry Gerard, but I'm going to have to say no."
My heart stopped, I barely even registered what she had said, all I heard was "no". Then, as I stood there stupidly in silence, somehow her words finally hit my brain as though it had all been slightly delayed. Was she pulling my leg?
"A friend? I barely know any of your friends. Who is it?" A simple question I thought, but she bit her lip nervously as though the question was a bomb waiting to go off if she said the wrong thing.
"I - I can't tell you. It's really complicated. Please don't ask me, they'll tell you when they're ready. I really hope this doesn't get in the way of our friendship though. We're still good right?"
I was crestfallen.
"Sure."
With that, all I could do was walk away feeling a little hurt. Was she lying to me? She seemed to be genuine enough. But I hardly spoke to any of her friends, I don't know how I could have made an impression on any of them. Sure they laughed at my drunken jokes one night, but I didn't think any of them were looking at me in any sort of affection.
Could this person be my mystery texter to? It would explain how they got my number. But, then again, I didn't know Sarah back when they had my number. Maybe I've known this person longer then I thought.
I don't know anyone else! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!
Sunday, June 18th
Weightless, to ill to drink, to ill to smoke, to ill to drink coffee.
10 a.m. College: My room. Have once again woken up on Sunday morning with my best friend. Hangover.
Unfortunately though, I couldn't sleep. I just had to tell someone about my night, so I decided to tell my diary. Lame right. Oh I know, I'm already wondering about whether or not I should cross that part out, just so I don't have to look at how sad I've become.
Scribbling takes too much effort though.
Okay, so, Mikey blew me off again. Big surprise right? Still, he has sworn that he's going to make it all up to me soon. He better have bought me something kick ass to make up for all this neglect.
Naturally, I didn't want to waste a good Saturday night, so I started drinking. Oh I know, big shock right! It was probably the first Saturday I had been stuck in the silence of my room, which only made the laughter, loud music and other sounds of partying next door in Bert and Quinn’s’ room all the more unbearable.
I was so tempted just to go in there and forget about all the shit that they had put me through and just smoke their pot and drink their booze to get through it all.
So, I went for a walk instead. I mean, I had to get out of there. One more karaoke version of Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" and I would just have to go in there and join in; it was too much to bare.
There I was, looking like a drunken lonely loser stumbling around the college corridors. That was when I heard it; music and laughter loud enough to grab my attention. Whatever was going on sounded inviting. So, of course, I invited myself.
I followed the sounds and found myself at someone's open bedroom door. The room was huge, bigger then mine, and it was packed full of people, some just hanging around in the corridor outside.
To my great surprise, I actually recognized one of the guys that was hanging around outside the packed room.
"Ben?"
I couldn't believe Ben was at a party ... with music!
"Gerard? Woah, what you doing down this end on a Saturday night?"
I had no idea what he meant, but I suddenly felt quite offended that Ben was at a party and he never even asked me if I wanted to go? I always asked him to everything I went to. As much as I wracked my brain I couldn't remember him even mentioning some party in some room on Saturday night.
"Just, looking for something to do," I giggled and I was suddenly aware that Ben had probably never even seen me drunk before. He laughed along with me, clearly noticing. "I didn't think you went to parties."
"I'm here every Saturday night. It's just a social thing, nothing special."
Nothing special? I was by then seriously offended that I had never been invited to one of these things. I mean, every Saturday night? For how long? Since the beginning of college?
Now, I was drunk, so it just spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
"You've never even invited me. Not once."
Ben looked at me as though I had just jumped out of his closet and scared the shit out of him.
"Shit, I'm sorry man; I just didn't think it was your scene. I mean, there's drinking and stuff and I think some of the guys smoke pot, but it's not like your other parties, I seriously just didn't think you'd be interested, I thought you'd find it boring."
I stood there just staring at him. Did he think I was some alcoholic drug dealer or something? What does he mean it's not my scene? I don't have a scene. Party is my scene, so long as there is booze.
"Boring? I was drinking in my room, on my own."
Something seemed to snap inside of Ben and all of a sudden he was showing me off to everyone as though he was some proud parent, it was really odd to say the least. I just smiled and shook hands. Best thing was, people just kept passing me beers and offering me some of their cigarettes or Vodka, it was fantastic. How could Ben ever think this wasn't my scene?
Then, suddenly, I realised something was a bit off, I was receiving some rather unusual comments as I was introduced to the many faces in and out of the room:
"Gerard right? Woah, didn't think I'd ever see you at one of our gatherings."
"Ger-ard? Kind of hard to pronounce. Just a question ... you got any coke on you man?"
"Oh hey man, I see you hanging with that guy Bert all the time. What the hell are you doing here?"
"You need a beer man? We got heaps, just help yourself, they're in the bar fridge."
"Hey Gerard, I'll get you a joint."
As more and more of the comments came my way I suddenly realised that I wasn't quite as invisible as I had once thought. It seemed I had developed a reputation and not just for being an art geek who was going to get beaten up by the school's boxing champion jock; I was the alcoholic who attended parties that were way to crazy for anyone else to go to.
I honestly wasn't sure if I should be proud or extremely ashamed and even worried by the way people saw me.
Still, as I kept getting beers and joints passed my way, there was no way in hell I was going to complain. It was fantastic. It was also the first party I had been to in ages where I could actually just be my self. Sure, I was fairly wasted by now, but I didn't feel I had to prove myself to anyone. And Ben just seemed so proud of me, it was weird, yet fun.
And, that was when I saw him. Oh yes, you know who. Frank was there!
"Oh shit ... Iero's here?"
Ben gave me a look and rolled his eyes.
"Don't start man, he's always here. Didn't really think it was his scene either but apparently you two are full of surprises."
"You don't like Frank? How can you not like Frank?" some random drunk questioned me as I continued to glare at Frank's back.
I tried my best to ignore him but the room wasn't that big and as our small conversation group continued to grow in size, I found we were getting closer and closer to Frank and his growing group of friends. It was getting to the stage where I could here nearly everything that was being said in his group.
"Oh my god, Gerard Way isn't it?" I looked up to find myself face to face with a girl that looked, if possible, drunker then me. She was practically yelling at me and she was swaying so badly it was as though she was adrift at sea on a rolling log made of jelly. Of course, that could have been me though.
"That's me ... who you?"
"My name's Vanessa. I thought you hung around with Bert McCracken."
"Yeah, I do ... usually."
What was with people and associating me with Bert? It was beginning to sound like we were one in the same person.
Vanessa just giggled at me.
"What? Are you two fighting? Trouble in paradise?"
I just stared at her in confusion?
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Um, well he's gay right? Aren't you two together?"
I heard Ben choke on his drink next to me, Vanessa just looked at me patiently waiting for the answer, even several people in our conversation group stopped what they were doing to look at me as though seriously waiting for my answer,
That was when I saw Frank. He had abandoned the conversation he had been having and was now looking at me oddly, I couldn't quite read his expression. Several other people in his group were also listening in and staring at me curiously.
"No! We're not together!"
I sipped at my beer again and again until people seemed to sense my uneasiness and went back to what they were doing before Vanessa had asked the one question that had clearly made me awkward.
I really have no idea why, but for some reason I turned around to see if Frank was still giving me that look. He wasn't, he was too busy with the new addition to his group. A girl, a hot girl, and she approached the group and locked arms with Frank before leaning in and kissing him affectionately on the lips.
Straight away, I hated her. I couldn't explain it. Her blonde hair, blue eyes, slender frame, she was clearly some popular, cheerleading bimbo. Trust Frank to date someone like that.
I tried my best to ignore it, but our group was slowly joining Frank's group and I was to drunk to even notice that pretty soon I was standing right near that blonde preppy girl. The worst part was, she was wearing a tight T-shirt that looked like it was about three sizes too small for her. And it had "Pencey Prep" written in big block letters on the front of it.
It was the name of Frank's band. His girl friends was proudly wearing, or rather not wearing, his band advertised across her no doubt fake boobs.
That was when she turned to me and stuck out one perfectly groomed hand, complete with false nails with French tips.
"Hi. Name's Sherry, I haven't seen you here before."
Great, so she was a regular to.
"Gerard," I said bitterly, taking her hand. I was drunk; I'm not the aggressive type when I'm drunk. But it gave my great satisfaction to see my dirty, nail bitten hand in her pristine one. By this time, Frank was watching on with great interest. "Nice shirt."
Why did I say that?
See, this is why I hate being drunk sometimes, what you really want to say is, "did you go through you're 4 year olds wardrobe again?" but it always comes out wrong.
"Oh, it's his band, I don't really like the music that much, too much yelling for me," she swung her head towards Frank but never took her eyes off me.
At that moment, just because she said she didn't like them, I felt the need to say that I did. So I did.
"You kidding? I thought they were pretty cool actually, made me want to play the guitar."
I was distracted by a movement from behind her; Frank was snickering slightly and running a hand through his hair. He seemed a little awkward; perhaps he sensed what I was doing with his girl friend, disagreeing with her because she was a hussy.
"Gerard ... Gerard," Sherry started repeating as she seemed to search her brain for where she had heard the name before. "You're not the guy that's dating Bert McCracken are you?"
AH! These people!
"Oh my god! I made out with him a few times, that doesn't mean we're going out!"
I want to slap myself in the face every time I replay that line in my head. This is when me and alcohol never get along, when it makes me say stupid things like that!
I got several odd looks after that, including a rather surprised look from Frank. Actually, the look was so bizarre I can't really put it to just one look. He did this sort of double take as though he was unsure the words had actually left my lips. But they had.
And I'm pretty sure it didn't take long before I left the party and went back to drinking in the sanctuary of my own room. I was just so embarrassed; I couldn't believe the scrutiny I had been under.
Still, I kind of had fun.
Except Sherry. Frank is now second on my hate list, only to her.
Wednesday, June 21st
I don't understand. I can't get over the party on Saturday night. I mean, do I like Bert. Sure, I know we don't talk that much at the moment, but every time we do, it's like we never stopped talking for weeks on end, we just pick up where we left off and we're all over each other again.
They say your true feelings come out when you're drunk, well every time I'm drunk around him we make out, we're all over each other. Does that mean I like him? Are we going out?
I mean, we went on that date, there was that episode in the car, sure, I haven't seen him in a few weeks, but he's still right there, maybe he's just giving me space. What will happen when I see him again? Will things just pick up where we left off?
Sometimes I hate relationships, it doesn't matter if you're in a same sex one or an opposite sex one, it's all just as fucking messed up and confusing.
Sunday, June 25th
8 a.m. Can't sleep, so much going through my head. After last weekend I have decided to stay away from the parties for a little while.
One weekend down. I'm more bored then I have ever been in my whole life. What a perfectly good waste of a weekend.
I just can't win.
Tuesday, June 27th
82 kg (hmmm, must be because have replaced food with beer), 16 beers (replacing food), 80 cigarettes (to put a stop to hunger I feel when get munchies when drinking), 80 coffees (kill taste buds).
Late night. College: My room. Just got off the phone with Mikey ... okay, that's a lie, I'm still technically on the phone with him, I'm messaging and calling him desperately. I don't know, it was just the way he said it...
So, he calls me up and I pick up immediately, kind of surprised to see him calling so late, he's usually at Alisha's place at that hour. I picked up, thinking it was a mistake and his phone had just gone off in his pocket again and all I would hear would be some muffled voices and the shuffling noises that remind me that I am in fact in Mikey's pocket. It's weird, but cool, try it sometime.
"Mikes? What's up?"
"Gee! Oh my god! You won't believe what I just found about your best friend."
Best friend? Ben? Bert? Who was my best friend anymore?
"Mikes ... who?"
"Frank you idiot! I just - oh, you're not going to believe this."
He sounded kind of hurried, but my heart had suddenly sped up. I was excited!
What was so important that Mikey just thought I had to know?
"What? Mikey, what? Tell me!"
There was laughter. "Na, I think I'm going to make you wait for this ... you just wont believe - I can't believe - oh you're going to piss yourself when I tell you this -"
"Mikey, fucking spit it out!"
There was a pause, it almost killed me.
"Oh shit ... I just realised something. No fucking way! SHIT, no way! Gee, I'll call you back later. Oh shit, I just realised something - where I saw ... I'll call you back!"
And with that he hung up.
And yes, I called, I've messaged, I'm desperate to know what was so fucking important, but he's dead to the world.
Mikey Way has something on Frank Iero and he's not going to tell me so easily.
"Darn you Mikey!!!!!"
----
AN: YAY! Okay, I'm back on track. Once again, I'm so so sorry it took so long. I promise, next time it wont take that long. HA HA.
Maybe, maybe not. I don't know what I'm talking about. But thank you all for sticking with me and next update should be in a couple of days, if your lucky, tomorrow, he he. I'm not sure how fast I can finish it, I'm on a roll, so just maybe :) Thanks again guys, you're my world.
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