FicWad

I had everything packed, my mom was fussing, saying to make sure to see a doctor if there are any problems, to call if I need help, she wouldn’t leave me.
I had Mikey carrying my stuff as if I couldn’t carry anymore. God I was only three and a half months, I can’t wait to see them when I’m eight or nine months.
I got into the car and we drove to the tour bus. I had then Ray carrying my stuff and Frank trying to help me walk.
“Guys! I can walk and do things!” I yelled. They all looked shocked at my outburst but they knew there was going to be more and it was going to get worse.
I got onto the tour bus and started looking for food, I was dying for food.
“Jesus Gerard we only just had breakfast,” Mikey said.
“I’m allowed to eat,” I said.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” he said.
“Well then, I can’t help it, there is a thing called I’m pregnant,” I said.
“I don’t think I’m gonna last this,” Frank said.
Bob looked nervously at me and then went to his bunk.
“Have you talked to him yet?” Mikey asked.
“No, he won’t even say hi to me, it’s like I’m some kind of disease to him,” I said as I felt myself well up.
“Hey don’t cry Gee, look I guess he just is scared, he doesn’t know what to say,” Mikey said. I nodded.
“Okay, everyone ready?” Brian asked.
“Hell yeah!” Frank said.
“Let’s go then,” Brian said.

I sat around on the sofa just drawing random shit.
“What you drawing?” Frank asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Don’t look like nothing, let me see,” he said. He took the sketch pad off me and looked.
“This is good,” he said.
“It’s just a drawing,” I said.
“It’s good and when Frankie says it good it’s good,” he said pouting making me giggle.
“Fine then,” I said. I saw Bob get out of his bunk, he went to fridge and took out a can of soda and sat down next to Mikey and started talking to him.
------------------------------------------Mikey’s P.O.V. ---------------------------------------Bob sat down next to me.
“Umm… has Gerard spoken to you about the kid?” he asked.
“About what exactly?” I asked putting my comic book down.
Well the…umm….” He said.
“The father?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Yes,” I answered.
“What did he say?” he asked.
“Why don’t you ask him instead of asking others?” I asked.
“I’m scared, what if he hates me?” he asked.
“He doesn’t, he thinks you hate him for not talking to him,” I said.
“I don’t hate him, I could never hate him, and I’m just scared that he will hate me and not want to talk to me,” he said.
“He doesn’t hate you and he does want to talk to you, so try,” I said.
He slowly nodded.