FicWad

I guess I was that kind of nerdy type, liking comics, getting beaten up and called fag or other names by the jocks, kind of like school, but I drawed instead of listening in lessons, I kind of got the general sum of what to do in every lesson, so I caught up later and still got good marks. I would draw cartoons, people, objects, just anything that came in sight or in my head. I lived at home, my parent we’re hardly ever in, they worked hard to keep the house and the family, we only spent family time at weekends, unless they were at business meetings or something. I liked being just with my brother, we would stop up and watch cartoons or movies, mainly horror. We would order takeaways and Mikey would look threw my drawings. He said I was amazing, I didn’t feel they were great, I guess no artist does, not that I class myself as a artist, I just draw, but the great artist say they weren’t the best. I was a seventeen year old who just wanted to get into art college, make art and music.

It was a Monday, we sat outside Frank’s, we always waited for him because he was our best mate and his house was near and on the way to school. But God he was slow. Mikey tapped his shoes against the gate. I took a long drag on my cigarette, Mrs Iero didn’t mind us smoking, as long as we didn’t leave our butt ends around. Frank came out, his hair and clothes were kind of messed up but they were purposely done, he looked cool.
“Hey dude, lets rock,” he said.
“You got any fags?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Can I have one, I’ll pay you back, but I forgot mine,” he said.
“Fine,” I said.
“Thank you sexy,” he said. I got use to the names and stuff.
I handed one over, and the lighter. He took a long drag.
“You two, I don’t want to be late in school,” Mikey said.
“Fine,” I groaned, we picked up our walking speed.
We got to our home/form rooms. I started drawing, Ray, Mikey and Frank sat with me talking about comics and x-box. I looked up and I was taken back, I saw the most beautiful, handsome guy who stood against the wall, but with the jocks. His blonde hair hanged beautiful on his face, his piercing blue eyes and his lip piercing suited him. He looked over at me, he gave me a look then turned back to one of the jocks.
I looked away and started drawing.

I sat in my last lesson, Maths, the teacher would stand at the front, give us text books to do our work then wouldn’t bother for the rest of the lesson. Then that guy walked in. He stood at the front.
“You must be the new kid,” Sir said.
“Yeah, my name is Bob,” he said.
“Ok Bob, you can sit next to…Gerard,” Sir said. I dropped my pencil from drawing. I looked up, shit.
Bob looked at me in disgust, and then sat next to me. We were as far away from anyone in the classroom, everyone was caught up there own conversations, and none of his friends were in here. I carried on drawing.
“Fag, what you drawing?” he asked.
“One, my name isn’t Fag, it’s Gerard, two I’m just drawing, but I’m guessing it’s far to boring and stupid for you,” I said.
“I appreciate art,” he said. I looked at him.
“A jock, appreciating the jock’s punch bag’s artwork will be a day to remember,” I said.
“What do you mean punch bag?” he asked.
“Your new jock mates seem to like to take it out on people who are quiet and different, meaning they beat up me and my friends,” I said.
“Well I haven’t beat you up,” he said.
“Yet, I’m still waiting for it, I know it will happen, you will want to fit in so beating up the guy who looks ‘dead’ and draws will make you look cool, but just in the stupid jock’s world,” I said.
“Can I look?” he asked.
“If you want,” I answered. I let him take my sketchbook. He flicked threw them.
“They are really good,” he said.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Why have you got cuts on your hands?” I asked.
“Drumming, I played a little too long last night,” he said.
“You play drums?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Maybe you should come over and see me play,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“You should come over and see me play,” he repeated.
“I know what you said but don’t you think your mates will find out?” I asked.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he said with a smiled. Was he being nice or was there some reason like his new jock mates would come over and beat the shit out of me, like after school fun to them?
I nodded.
“I wait for you, outside school,” he said.
“Okay,” I said.
The bell rang, he smiled and went. Why? Why was he being so nice to me? I can’t understand.
I went to the toilets, wait for a bit till I know I wouldn’t get attack or seen with Bob. I quickly went out, I saw he standing by a black Mercedes.
I went over to him.
“Hey, get in then,” he said. He opened the door. I looked around to see there was no one around, it was complete empty. I got into the car.
“Why are you looking so nervous?” he asked.
“I just don’t want the jocks to see me,” I answered.
“I don’t know why you think I’m like them, just because I hang out with them now doesn’t mean I’m going to beat the shit out of people,” he said.
“You still call names,” I said.
“Well they told me they call you fag, so I guess I just did and it caught your attention,” he said.
“See, that’s still copying them,” I said.
“I’m sorry okay, lets go,” he said. He started the engine, it roared to life.
“How can you afford a car like this?” I asked.
“Parents got it me,” he answered.
“Still I could only afford a second hand small car, that would even be a struggle,” I said.
He smiled. We soon got to this huge house… no, mansion.
“Fuck! You live here?” I asked.
“Yeah, but don’t judge me, I’m not some rich spoil jock, like you have already classed me as,” he said.
I just stared at the house. He took me inside. We went into one room, it was huge, but there in the middle of the room was a large set of drums.
“You like?” he asked.
I nodded. He laughed.
“Want to get something to drink and eat before I start playing my babies?” he asked.
I nodded.
He took me to the kitchen, which was like triple the size of my kitchen. He pulled out two soda’s from the fridge and some crisps and chocolate.
“You trying to get me fat here?” I asked.
He laughed.
“Come on, you carry the crisps, I’ll take the soda and chocolate into my drum room,” he said.
I took the crisps and followed him into the room we started out in. I sat down on the floor with all the food near me.
“Any request?” he asked.
“No you play what you want,” I answered. He smirked, sat down and started. He was amazing, he was in perfect timing and played amazing, he looked amazing. The way his hair flicked from side to side when he turned his head from side to side. He stopped but I was still staring at him.
“Dude?” he asked.
“Wow, you are great,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said.
“How long you been playing?” I asked.
“Since I was about eight,” he answered.
“Cool, I wish I could play an instrument, but I leave that to my brother, he plays bass,” I said.
“Bass is cool, i was in a band and the bass play was amazing, he played so fast with his fingers not the plectrum,” he said.
“Cool,” I said. He sat next to me, closely.
“So, you got a girlfriend?” he asked.
“No, I don’t really like girls,” I answered. It was true I was gay.
“Your gay?” he asked.
“Well… umm…” I stuttered.
“You can tell me, I won’t say anything,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m gay,” I said.
“Well I’m bi so,” Bob said.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Yeah, but that’s another thing, so you have hobbies?” he asked.
We carried on talking. He was so amazing, and handsome. I want him. Just hours of knowing him and I liked him.
He looked at me, he came closer to me, our lips inches apart then the door bell rang.
He got up and went to answer it.
“Hey Bob, wondering if you wanted to come over to Pete’s party tonight?” Matt asked. I didn’t see him, but his voice, been beaten up by him in the toilets I guess I get to know his voice.
“I can’t, I have a stupid family thing,” Bob said.
I got up, I walked a bit but kick into the table.
“Shit!” I yelled, then clamped my hand over my mouth.
“Who was that?” Matt asked.
“Nothing,” Bob said.
“Sounded like that little fag in school,” Matt said.
“I should…” Bob started.
Matt came marching into the room I was in.
“What the fuck Bob?” Matt asked.
“What?” Bob asked.
“You have this fag in your house,” Matt answered.
“He’s just my science partner, nothing more, nothing less,” Bob said.
“Did you miss me over the weekend?” Matt asked me, meaning did I miss our daily beat up in the toilets.
“No not really,” I said. He punched me in the stomach.
“Stop Matt,” Bob said.
“No Bob, prove to me he means nothing to you,” Matt said.
“What do I do?” Bob asked.
“Beat the shit out of him,” Matt said.
Bob looked down at me. I looked at him for a minute then looked away.
“Do I have to?” Bob asked.
“Yes, unless you want to be the next punch bag with him,” Matt said.
Suddenly I felt a fist connect with my face. I fell back, I looked up, Bob looked like he was going to cry, he carried on though, he kicked me over and over in the stomach.
“Good one Bob, now fag get out of here,” Matt said.
I limped to my bag. I turned to look at Bob, He looked at me and then looked away. I limped all the way home in the rain. My tears didn’t show in the rain ad least, my lip and nose was bleeding, my stomach, face, arms and legs were in pain. I got home and quickly got upstairs and cleaned up.
I hate him, but I liked him so much.