Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > So Many Bright Lights That Cast A Shadow
We All Go To Hell
What happens when Mikey finds out what REALLY happened that night between Frank and Gerard? Will Gerard see the error of his ways?
?Blocked
From that night on, Frank and Gabe liked to consider themselves "friends with benefits". When being a bitch to someone else became too much, they relieved each other. And, okay, occasionally even when they hadn't spent the day taking it up the ass from Pete Wentz, or Will Beckett, or whoever else decided to dominate them.
A few days after Frank and Gabe's eventful night, Frank got another visitor.
When he heard the guard call his name, he got up and walked out to meet who he had expected to be Mikey, since he had been good about keeping his promise and visiting him every few days. The last time he had visited was Thursday after school, and that had just been to fill him in on what had been happening without him there. The talk about Frank had died down, Mikey assured him, but would probably start up again after the trial. Frank didn't care, as long as the words on everyone's lips were "released from Juvie".
As he walked out, he saw a very surprising, and somewhat unwelcome, guest.
Gerard woke up the day after impairing Frank's senses and ultimately sending him to prison. Glancing out the window, he saw that it was well into the evening hours. His head was pounding and he ran his tongue over the bottom of his teeth, wincing at his morning taste. He heard the front door slam shut and got out of bed to greet Mikey.
He walked into the living room and offered his brother a sleepy smile. "Hey, Mike."
But his brother was not smiling. Mikey's jaw was set, his fists were clenched, and his eyes flashed furiously behind his glasses.
"What's wrong, Mike?" he asked, his chest clenching up. Had he said something to him last night? Try as he might, he couldn't recall a single moment from last night after he got to the bar.
Mikey's cheeks were flushing red and his arms were shaking. "What's wrong?" he repeated, his voice quivering with anger. "What's wrong! What's wrong, GERARD, is that because of you, a boy that I love is in prison! Fucking prison, Gerard! What the fuck! Why the fuck can't you just let well enough alone? Why can't you let me have my life?"
"I wanted you to have your life, Mikey! That fucking fairy-faggot was trying to turn you gay! Do you understand how, if that had gotten out, that would have killed your reputation?"
"You mean your reputation! I love Frank, Gerard! And because of you and your fucking dedication to conformity and going along with the fucking group and not thinking for your own Goddamn self like a fucking individual, I had to break up with him!"
Gerard froze. "You...broke up with him?"
"Yes!" Mikey screamed, all his chill easy-goingness a mere memory. "I fucking broke up with him, Gerard! Are you happy now? Glad that you have, in yet another way, manipulated my life into being what you want it to be?"
Gerard stood, frozen, not sure what to say or do. He gulped. Mikey had never been this mad at him before; he had always been sort of idyllic to his little brother, someone to look up to. Not someone to yell at and...dare he think it...hate.
Mikey seemed to have calmed slightly, but he wasn't finished. "Who told you?" he asked, fury resonating in his voice.
"Bob," Gerard murmured, finding his voice.
Mikey nodded and looked away. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. His posture changed, his shoulders slumped, his head hung low on his neck and he dragged his feet as he walked out of the room, in the direction of the stairs. Whereas a few moments ago he had been livid, animated, furious, now he just seemed exhausted. "I'm going to my bedroom. Try not to fuck with my life anymore while I'm up there," he muttered, leaving.
And Gerard stood at the foot of the couch, not moving, not making a sound. He closed his eyes, and shook his head from side-to-side. What had he done? His baby brother hated him, and for what? Because he couldn't just accept that maybe he was into guys...when he himself had had sex with plenty of guys! Had he not just been making out with a guy the previous night? Who was he trying to kid?
He walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water from the tap onto his face. He looked at himself in the mirror, water dripping from his face and the tips of his hair.
His hair. The dark roots were coming in as the blonde grew out. Why had he dyed it blonde in the first place? Because his friends had told him to, to see what it would look like. That was always it. Do it, Gerard. Everyone wants you to, do it, do it, do it because they tell you to...
He fumbled around under the bathroom sink and, after moving things around for a moment, he found what he was looking for. Standing, he plugged in and turned on the razor, feeling it buzz and vibrate in his hand. He glanced at it, then glanced at himself in the mirror, and back at the razor. He clicked it on and off for a few minutes, dancing between the two different scenarios he had layed out for himself. Finally, he switched the power to 'on' one last time and lifted the razor to his hairline. He hovered for a moment, giving himself one last chance to stop it...No. Enough of this fake shit, all this covering up of what was really there, when in reality, it changed nothing. The original was still there, he would just have to...
And away he went, shearing off every last lock of blonde hair on his head, until all that remained was an inch or two of black roots. He ran his hand over his newly-shaven head. He sighed a kind-of sigh of relief.
Almost three weeks later, he walked into the Trenton Boys' Correctional Facility and told the guard who he was there for. He sat down at a little table with a glass window and a red phone. And waited.
It took Frank a moment to realize who his vistor was. Gerard no longer had white-blonde hair, it was now about six inches of messy black locks. Despite his grudge, Frank couldn't help but notice how it set off the pale shine of his skin and the bright sparkle of his eyes. He bit his lip and stopped just short of the partitioned table. He could leave. He could just go back to his cell and have a quickie with Gabe and not even need to think about Gerard...
Gerard mouthed something to him through the glass. Frank gave him a disdainful look and pointed at his ear, shaking his head. Gerard found a pen and scribbled on his hand. He held it up to the glass for Frank to read.
"Please?"
Frank rolled his eyes and plopped down in the seat, arms crossed, surveying Gerard through the window and clicking his lip piercing against his teeth. Gerard picked up his own phone and pointed at it, indicating that Frank should pick up his as well. He rolled his eyes again, but obliged.
"What do you want?"
"Frank, I--"
"Sorry to disappoint you, but if you were looking to just bend me over a table to take what's left of my life, it'll be a bit difficult with this window."
"No, see--"
"So you may as well just go." Frank sat back in his chair, looking at Gerard expectantly.
"Frank," Gerard said softly. "I'm sorry."
Frank stared at Gerard, trying (and failing) to keep the emotion out of his eyes. Being in the correctional for three weeks and not seeing Gerard and not having to think about him, Frank thought he had lost his spark for Gerard. To his dismay, he found that the spark was struck just by the pleading look shining in Gerard's softened gaze. But he still wasn't getting off the hook that easily.
"What are you sorry for?"
Gerard's pride reared its ugly head. "C'mon Frank, you know..."
Frank stubbornly hung up his phone and got up to leave. Fuck this.
Gerard tapped his hand on the glass, his heart racing, hoping Frank wasn't angered beyond sitting back down. Luckily for him, Frank snapped his head around and snatched up the receiver.
"I'm sorry," Gerard began, and Frank sat down slowly. "for getting mad at you for dating Mikey. And then ruining your life by trying to...trying to sabatoge you. I am so very sorry, Frank. I know you don't believe me, but I really am."
"If you're so sorry, why didn't you come sooner?"
"I didn't think you'd see me..." Gerard told him, and Frank raised an eyebrow. "...And I was afraid."
"Of?"
"Facing you..." Gerard trailed off, not wanting to finish that thought. What he was really afraid of was the feelings that he knew this would stir up. Deny all he wanted, Gerard knew that he felt something for Frank.
Frank nodded. "You cut your hair..." he stated, changing the subject.
"I know...I got tired of being artificial."
The two sat in silence for a few minutes, not knowing what was left to say. "When do you get out of here?" Gerard finally asked.
Frank shrugged and tried to look nonchalante. "Well...My trial's in a little more than a week, and that's when I find out whether I spend more time here or go home."
Gerard nodded, feeling extremely guilty. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
"I know you are."
"Will you...will you please forgive me?"
"For feeling me up, kissing me when I had a boyfriend, or for getting me high and drunk and sent to prison?" he said, somewhat bitterly.
"...For all of that. And for the names. And whatever other mean things I've said to you."
Frank looked at him, trying to guage whether or not the other boy was being sincere. "I don't know yet," he said finally.
"I understand. I'd understand if you never spoke to me again, but understanding it wouldn't keep it from..." he stopped, feeling as though he were choking up.
"Keep it from what?" Frank asked softly.
"Breaking my heart," Gerard whispered. With that, he glanced down, hung up his phone, and walked out.
Boop-boop-ba-doop. Go comment. 'Kay cool. OverAndOutxx
A few days after Frank and Gabe's eventful night, Frank got another visitor.
When he heard the guard call his name, he got up and walked out to meet who he had expected to be Mikey, since he had been good about keeping his promise and visiting him every few days. The last time he had visited was Thursday after school, and that had just been to fill him in on what had been happening without him there. The talk about Frank had died down, Mikey assured him, but would probably start up again after the trial. Frank didn't care, as long as the words on everyone's lips were "released from Juvie".
As he walked out, he saw a very surprising, and somewhat unwelcome, guest.
Gerard woke up the day after impairing Frank's senses and ultimately sending him to prison. Glancing out the window, he saw that it was well into the evening hours. His head was pounding and he ran his tongue over the bottom of his teeth, wincing at his morning taste. He heard the front door slam shut and got out of bed to greet Mikey.
He walked into the living room and offered his brother a sleepy smile. "Hey, Mike."
But his brother was not smiling. Mikey's jaw was set, his fists were clenched, and his eyes flashed furiously behind his glasses.
"What's wrong, Mike?" he asked, his chest clenching up. Had he said something to him last night? Try as he might, he couldn't recall a single moment from last night after he got to the bar.
Mikey's cheeks were flushing red and his arms were shaking. "What's wrong?" he repeated, his voice quivering with anger. "What's wrong! What's wrong, GERARD, is that because of you, a boy that I love is in prison! Fucking prison, Gerard! What the fuck! Why the fuck can't you just let well enough alone? Why can't you let me have my life?"
"I wanted you to have your life, Mikey! That fucking fairy-faggot was trying to turn you gay! Do you understand how, if that had gotten out, that would have killed your reputation?"
"You mean your reputation! I love Frank, Gerard! And because of you and your fucking dedication to conformity and going along with the fucking group and not thinking for your own Goddamn self like a fucking individual, I had to break up with him!"
Gerard froze. "You...broke up with him?"
"Yes!" Mikey screamed, all his chill easy-goingness a mere memory. "I fucking broke up with him, Gerard! Are you happy now? Glad that you have, in yet another way, manipulated my life into being what you want it to be?"
Gerard stood, frozen, not sure what to say or do. He gulped. Mikey had never been this mad at him before; he had always been sort of idyllic to his little brother, someone to look up to. Not someone to yell at and...dare he think it...hate.
Mikey seemed to have calmed slightly, but he wasn't finished. "Who told you?" he asked, fury resonating in his voice.
"Bob," Gerard murmured, finding his voice.
Mikey nodded and looked away. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. His posture changed, his shoulders slumped, his head hung low on his neck and he dragged his feet as he walked out of the room, in the direction of the stairs. Whereas a few moments ago he had been livid, animated, furious, now he just seemed exhausted. "I'm going to my bedroom. Try not to fuck with my life anymore while I'm up there," he muttered, leaving.
And Gerard stood at the foot of the couch, not moving, not making a sound. He closed his eyes, and shook his head from side-to-side. What had he done? His baby brother hated him, and for what? Because he couldn't just accept that maybe he was into guys...when he himself had had sex with plenty of guys! Had he not just been making out with a guy the previous night? Who was he trying to kid?
He walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water from the tap onto his face. He looked at himself in the mirror, water dripping from his face and the tips of his hair.
His hair. The dark roots were coming in as the blonde grew out. Why had he dyed it blonde in the first place? Because his friends had told him to, to see what it would look like. That was always it. Do it, Gerard. Everyone wants you to, do it, do it, do it because they tell you to...
He fumbled around under the bathroom sink and, after moving things around for a moment, he found what he was looking for. Standing, he plugged in and turned on the razor, feeling it buzz and vibrate in his hand. He glanced at it, then glanced at himself in the mirror, and back at the razor. He clicked it on and off for a few minutes, dancing between the two different scenarios he had layed out for himself. Finally, he switched the power to 'on' one last time and lifted the razor to his hairline. He hovered for a moment, giving himself one last chance to stop it...No. Enough of this fake shit, all this covering up of what was really there, when in reality, it changed nothing. The original was still there, he would just have to...
And away he went, shearing off every last lock of blonde hair on his head, until all that remained was an inch or two of black roots. He ran his hand over his newly-shaven head. He sighed a kind-of sigh of relief.
Almost three weeks later, he walked into the Trenton Boys' Correctional Facility and told the guard who he was there for. He sat down at a little table with a glass window and a red phone. And waited.
It took Frank a moment to realize who his vistor was. Gerard no longer had white-blonde hair, it was now about six inches of messy black locks. Despite his grudge, Frank couldn't help but notice how it set off the pale shine of his skin and the bright sparkle of his eyes. He bit his lip and stopped just short of the partitioned table. He could leave. He could just go back to his cell and have a quickie with Gabe and not even need to think about Gerard...
Gerard mouthed something to him through the glass. Frank gave him a disdainful look and pointed at his ear, shaking his head. Gerard found a pen and scribbled on his hand. He held it up to the glass for Frank to read.
"Please?"
Frank rolled his eyes and plopped down in the seat, arms crossed, surveying Gerard through the window and clicking his lip piercing against his teeth. Gerard picked up his own phone and pointed at it, indicating that Frank should pick up his as well. He rolled his eyes again, but obliged.
"What do you want?"
"Frank, I--"
"Sorry to disappoint you, but if you were looking to just bend me over a table to take what's left of my life, it'll be a bit difficult with this window."
"No, see--"
"So you may as well just go." Frank sat back in his chair, looking at Gerard expectantly.
"Frank," Gerard said softly. "I'm sorry."
Frank stared at Gerard, trying (and failing) to keep the emotion out of his eyes. Being in the correctional for three weeks and not seeing Gerard and not having to think about him, Frank thought he had lost his spark for Gerard. To his dismay, he found that the spark was struck just by the pleading look shining in Gerard's softened gaze. But he still wasn't getting off the hook that easily.
"What are you sorry for?"
Gerard's pride reared its ugly head. "C'mon Frank, you know..."
Frank stubbornly hung up his phone and got up to leave. Fuck this.
Gerard tapped his hand on the glass, his heart racing, hoping Frank wasn't angered beyond sitting back down. Luckily for him, Frank snapped his head around and snatched up the receiver.
"I'm sorry," Gerard began, and Frank sat down slowly. "for getting mad at you for dating Mikey. And then ruining your life by trying to...trying to sabatoge you. I am so very sorry, Frank. I know you don't believe me, but I really am."
"If you're so sorry, why didn't you come sooner?"
"I didn't think you'd see me..." Gerard told him, and Frank raised an eyebrow. "...And I was afraid."
"Of?"
"Facing you..." Gerard trailed off, not wanting to finish that thought. What he was really afraid of was the feelings that he knew this would stir up. Deny all he wanted, Gerard knew that he felt something for Frank.
Frank nodded. "You cut your hair..." he stated, changing the subject.
"I know...I got tired of being artificial."
The two sat in silence for a few minutes, not knowing what was left to say. "When do you get out of here?" Gerard finally asked.
Frank shrugged and tried to look nonchalante. "Well...My trial's in a little more than a week, and that's when I find out whether I spend more time here or go home."
Gerard nodded, feeling extremely guilty. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
"I know you are."
"Will you...will you please forgive me?"
"For feeling me up, kissing me when I had a boyfriend, or for getting me high and drunk and sent to prison?" he said, somewhat bitterly.
"...For all of that. And for the names. And whatever other mean things I've said to you."
Frank looked at him, trying to guage whether or not the other boy was being sincere. "I don't know yet," he said finally.
"I understand. I'd understand if you never spoke to me again, but understanding it wouldn't keep it from..." he stopped, feeling as though he were choking up.
"Keep it from what?" Frank asked softly.
"Breaking my heart," Gerard whispered. With that, he glanced down, hung up his phone, and walked out.
Boop-boop-ba-doop. Go comment. 'Kay cool. OverAndOutxx
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