Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > And I'll End This Direst: a Frerard story
Gerard's POV
Coming to my senses, I realized I was bawling like a baby on Iero's shoulder. God, how embarrassing. I quickly stopped sobbing and pulled myself together, thinking about how much of a damn fool I was for spilling my guts to this kid I've only known for three hours.
Seriously, I've told more to this almost-stranger about my past then I have with my family. Actually, I guess it's not that hard not to talk to my family, considering my parents disowned me out of shame for being gay, and moved to Chicago, taking Mikey with them.
Mikey; it was all his fault. If I had the chance to kill Mikey, I honestly think I would take it. If it weren't for Mikey, I would still be living with my parents in Belleville, my life would be so much easier, my seventh grade boyfriend would still be alive, and I wouldn't have to switch schools so much. Not that I don't absolutely love living with Grandma, don't get me wrong. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me; she's the type of person that will never judge you, no matter what you tell her, and I love her for that. We're practially best friends, Grandma and I.
I picked myself up from Iero's shoulder, and decided that it was time to go back to school.
"Hey, um, sorry about that," I mumbled, mortified.
"Don't worry about it," he replied, sounding as if he put up with howling babies every day. "Gee, I had no idea..."
"Yeah," I cut him off. I didn't want his pretend sympathy, since that was all I ever got from anyone, never anything real. But he sure looked like he cared when his big brown eyes met mine...
"Gee," he began. "I..."
"We should probably go back to school now," I said huffily, looking away and cutting him off again. "We've been here a while."
Frank nodded in agreement and looked down at his shoes. "Yeah, okay," was all he managed to say, and we began our trek out of the park, me feeling like a complete idiot the whole way.
Frank's POV
We walked the whole way back to school in silence; none of us spoke one word, except for the exchange of, "Here's our class," from me, and a simple, "Great," from him. We managed to make it on time (which is a miracle, keeping in mind that we came from the park instead of our previous classes), and took our seats as the bell rang. I noticed he picked a seat on the opposite side of the room from me. I could tell he felt awkward about telling someone his story, and he was no doubt embarrassed for crying on me like that. But I really didn't mind.
"Hey, Iero, where were you last class period? I missed you, man," a jeering voice said from behind me. I knew exactly who it was: Alex, a jock (who just so happened to be one of the most well-known guys in school), and his group of friends, who laughed at his emphasis of the word 'missed.' Everyone in school was afraid of him, and I was unfortunate enough to be his main target victim. I ignored his statement towards me, even after he and his little group of jock friends started throwing bits of paper and erasers at my back.
"Okay, class. Take out your notes and answer the questions on page 138 in your textbooks," Mr. Cullen droned, sounding bored. I glanced over at Gerard, who had his eyes closed and his feet up on the table. I giggled silently to myself; he's so laid back, it's funny.
I was the first one finished with my questions; history was my best subject. However, during the half-hour that I still had while I was waiting for the rest of the class to finish, I felt no less than nine spitballs hit the back of my neck and head. I've had worse days, though.
The bell finally rang, and it was time for me to go to lunch. I gathered my books and shit and got up out of my seat, but not before someone's massive textbook slammed down on the desk in front of me.
Coming to my senses, I realized I was bawling like a baby on Iero's shoulder. God, how embarrassing. I quickly stopped sobbing and pulled myself together, thinking about how much of a damn fool I was for spilling my guts to this kid I've only known for three hours.
Seriously, I've told more to this almost-stranger about my past then I have with my family. Actually, I guess it's not that hard not to talk to my family, considering my parents disowned me out of shame for being gay, and moved to Chicago, taking Mikey with them.
Mikey; it was all his fault. If I had the chance to kill Mikey, I honestly think I would take it. If it weren't for Mikey, I would still be living with my parents in Belleville, my life would be so much easier, my seventh grade boyfriend would still be alive, and I wouldn't have to switch schools so much. Not that I don't absolutely love living with Grandma, don't get me wrong. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me; she's the type of person that will never judge you, no matter what you tell her, and I love her for that. We're practially best friends, Grandma and I.
I picked myself up from Iero's shoulder, and decided that it was time to go back to school.
"Hey, um, sorry about that," I mumbled, mortified.
"Don't worry about it," he replied, sounding as if he put up with howling babies every day. "Gee, I had no idea..."
"Yeah," I cut him off. I didn't want his pretend sympathy, since that was all I ever got from anyone, never anything real. But he sure looked like he cared when his big brown eyes met mine...
"Gee," he began. "I..."
"We should probably go back to school now," I said huffily, looking away and cutting him off again. "We've been here a while."
Frank nodded in agreement and looked down at his shoes. "Yeah, okay," was all he managed to say, and we began our trek out of the park, me feeling like a complete idiot the whole way.
Frank's POV
We walked the whole way back to school in silence; none of us spoke one word, except for the exchange of, "Here's our class," from me, and a simple, "Great," from him. We managed to make it on time (which is a miracle, keeping in mind that we came from the park instead of our previous classes), and took our seats as the bell rang. I noticed he picked a seat on the opposite side of the room from me. I could tell he felt awkward about telling someone his story, and he was no doubt embarrassed for crying on me like that. But I really didn't mind.
"Hey, Iero, where were you last class period? I missed you, man," a jeering voice said from behind me. I knew exactly who it was: Alex, a jock (who just so happened to be one of the most well-known guys in school), and his group of friends, who laughed at his emphasis of the word 'missed.' Everyone in school was afraid of him, and I was unfortunate enough to be his main target victim. I ignored his statement towards me, even after he and his little group of jock friends started throwing bits of paper and erasers at my back.
"Okay, class. Take out your notes and answer the questions on page 138 in your textbooks," Mr. Cullen droned, sounding bored. I glanced over at Gerard, who had his eyes closed and his feet up on the table. I giggled silently to myself; he's so laid back, it's funny.
I was the first one finished with my questions; history was my best subject. However, during the half-hour that I still had while I was waiting for the rest of the class to finish, I felt no less than nine spitballs hit the back of my neck and head. I've had worse days, though.
The bell finally rang, and it was time for me to go to lunch. I gathered my books and shit and got up out of my seat, but not before someone's massive textbook slammed down on the desk in front of me.
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