Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > "You'll never fit in much, kid."
"You'll never fit in much, kid."
10 reviewsFRERARD. Gerard is a social outcast and hates it. Frank is in with the popular guys and hates it. When they get paired for a school project, things start to change..in lots of ways...
5Ambiance
Hey guys, this is the first chapter of my new story- please R&R to let me know what you think- even if you think it's shit! if i get enough reviews and people seem to like it, i'll post as often as i can.
hope you like it! xD
Chapter One:
Gerard’s point of view:
Teardrops of rain soak through the scruffy, black fabric of my favourite Misfits hoodie, as I slouch along endless, dreary, suburban streets, wending my way home in the fine, damp drizzle of an October Friday afternoon.
The sky is a glum, glowering grey, and the cracks in the damp, chewing- gum speckled pavement seem to frown at me.
I guess Friday afternoons aren’t really meant to be depressing; most people my age are out with their friends, celebrating not having to set foot in school for two whole days by going out shopping, to the movies, hanging out in the park and sneaking into gigs.
This is exactly why I hate Friday afternoons; I have no friends to shop with, no friends to go to the movies with, no friends to hang out at the park with and no friends to sneak into gigs with.
At least it means two days away from school- school has to be the worst thing ever invented.
Actually, that’s a lie.
Maths teachers are the worst things ever invented.
Either way though, school sucks. Everyone goes around in typical cliques; the popular, sporty guys with designer trainers who get all the girls and beat to death anyone who doesn’t worship football, the geeky guys, who all have mini hunchbacks, read never- ending novels like “The Hobbit” and spend unnatural amounts of time on their homework, the normal guys who all wear “Animal” hoodies, listen to the “Right” type of music and get okay marks in class, and the rebels, who smoke in the toilets, skive, dye their hair purple and listen to hard rock and metal.
I don’t really fit in anywhere- I’m just the weird, shy, arty, Goth kid who skives PE, only ever hand in art- and occasionally English -homework, spends way too much time drawing undead creatures and reading horror stories, never talks to anyone, and has a tendency to perform life threatening accidents with the Bunsen burners in biology.
I’m way too geeky and un- sporty for the popular guys, way too weird and rebellious for the geeks, way too freaky for the normal guys, and way too much of a chicken for the rebels.
Generally, I’m just ignored. It’s like I’m transparent, invisible, unimportant. The only attention I get is being beaten up by the “popular” guys for wearing too much black and listening to Misfits. Other than that, no one talks to me, no one cares about me, no one notices.
Apart from that memorable biology lesson where I accidentally set fire to my own eyebrows with the Bunsen burner.
But I do have an embarrassingly loud and girly scream, not to mention half my left eyebrow was on fire…
I push open the rusty garden gate that leads to my house and slouch up the overgrown path, scuffing my shabby black doc martens on the paving.
The light drizzle has turned to a downpour, and I’m soaked, shivering and sullen as I unlock the front door and go in, kicking off my soggy school bag and doc martens in the hallway before ambling into the kitchen to make a much needed mug of coffee.
I sigh heavily as I wait for the kettle to boil.
My younger brother, Mikey is at his best friend Ray’s (the only two people in school who ever talk to me besides our deputy head, Mr. Arthur, when he’s telling me off for wearing black eyeliner) and Mom’s still at work, so I’ve got the place to myself.
Yippee. House Party!!
Yeah right, I wish. No one would fucking turn up. Except maybe Mikey…my own little brother…oh my god I’m the saddest fifteen year old in the history of sad fifteen year olds.
Everyone else is out having fun, but all I ever do on a Friday night is talk online to my old best friend, Cat (short for Cathy), who moved away last year, listen to weird music, read creepy vampire novels, drink unnatural amounts of coffee and argue about the plural of “moose” with Mikey.
I need a LIFE.
*
Frank’s point of view:
The rusty chains of the swing creak squeakily, as I swing moodily back and forth, dragging my feet across the worn Tar-Mac below me and scuffing my stripy red and black converse.
Tiny droplets of rain are falling from the cloudy sky as I swing higher, letting the cool October breeze of a damp Friday afternoon whip my dyed- black hair way from my cheeks.
Friday afternoons should be fun, but after the joys of double maths last lesson (seriously, how sadistic is that?!) and a slight disagreement with my head teacher, Mr. Arthur involving my red eyeliner and a make up wipe which I refused to use, I am not in the best of moods. School sucks.
I’d like to violently mutate and murder the person who thought of it.
Actually I wouldn’t.
I’m terrified of blood.
Whatever- Friday afternoons are meant to be about having fun. I used to spend them with Aled, Dom and Luke, hanging out at the mall, the movies, the park, sneaking into gigs and chatting up girls.
But for months now, it’s been different; ever since my cousin got me into Black Flag and The bouncing souls, ever since I started wearing eyeliner, ever since I admitted that, actually, I think football SUCKS.
The mainly laugh at how I look, jeer at the music I listen to and put the blame on me when they get into trouble. I am the odd one out, the misfit, the scapegoat, but I can’t let them see that they hurt me, I can’t let them win.
I can’t hang out with them as much as before though- not like they’d want me to anyway- it makes me feel too depressed, knowing I haven’t got any real friends, knowing that my so called friends actually hate me, but don’t dump me because I’m a good person to blame, a good person to laugh at, to pick on when there’s no one else to hurt. I can’t tell them what I really think though, or I’ll get mashed into bloody pulp- it’s safer to let them push me around, hurt my feelings.
No one wants Aled Hutchings as an enemy…
what do you think? more happens in the nxt chapter- this is just kinda introducing the characters and the setting, but if you want me to carry on, pweeeeeeeeease R&R to let me know what you think. thanks :)
lucy xo
hope you like it! xD
Chapter One:
Gerard’s point of view:
Teardrops of rain soak through the scruffy, black fabric of my favourite Misfits hoodie, as I slouch along endless, dreary, suburban streets, wending my way home in the fine, damp drizzle of an October Friday afternoon.
The sky is a glum, glowering grey, and the cracks in the damp, chewing- gum speckled pavement seem to frown at me.
I guess Friday afternoons aren’t really meant to be depressing; most people my age are out with their friends, celebrating not having to set foot in school for two whole days by going out shopping, to the movies, hanging out in the park and sneaking into gigs.
This is exactly why I hate Friday afternoons; I have no friends to shop with, no friends to go to the movies with, no friends to hang out at the park with and no friends to sneak into gigs with.
At least it means two days away from school- school has to be the worst thing ever invented.
Actually, that’s a lie.
Maths teachers are the worst things ever invented.
Either way though, school sucks. Everyone goes around in typical cliques; the popular, sporty guys with designer trainers who get all the girls and beat to death anyone who doesn’t worship football, the geeky guys, who all have mini hunchbacks, read never- ending novels like “The Hobbit” and spend unnatural amounts of time on their homework, the normal guys who all wear “Animal” hoodies, listen to the “Right” type of music and get okay marks in class, and the rebels, who smoke in the toilets, skive, dye their hair purple and listen to hard rock and metal.
I don’t really fit in anywhere- I’m just the weird, shy, arty, Goth kid who skives PE, only ever hand in art- and occasionally English -homework, spends way too much time drawing undead creatures and reading horror stories, never talks to anyone, and has a tendency to perform life threatening accidents with the Bunsen burners in biology.
I’m way too geeky and un- sporty for the popular guys, way too weird and rebellious for the geeks, way too freaky for the normal guys, and way too much of a chicken for the rebels.
Generally, I’m just ignored. It’s like I’m transparent, invisible, unimportant. The only attention I get is being beaten up by the “popular” guys for wearing too much black and listening to Misfits. Other than that, no one talks to me, no one cares about me, no one notices.
Apart from that memorable biology lesson where I accidentally set fire to my own eyebrows with the Bunsen burner.
But I do have an embarrassingly loud and girly scream, not to mention half my left eyebrow was on fire…
I push open the rusty garden gate that leads to my house and slouch up the overgrown path, scuffing my shabby black doc martens on the paving.
The light drizzle has turned to a downpour, and I’m soaked, shivering and sullen as I unlock the front door and go in, kicking off my soggy school bag and doc martens in the hallway before ambling into the kitchen to make a much needed mug of coffee.
I sigh heavily as I wait for the kettle to boil.
My younger brother, Mikey is at his best friend Ray’s (the only two people in school who ever talk to me besides our deputy head, Mr. Arthur, when he’s telling me off for wearing black eyeliner) and Mom’s still at work, so I’ve got the place to myself.
Yippee. House Party!!
Yeah right, I wish. No one would fucking turn up. Except maybe Mikey…my own little brother…oh my god I’m the saddest fifteen year old in the history of sad fifteen year olds.
Everyone else is out having fun, but all I ever do on a Friday night is talk online to my old best friend, Cat (short for Cathy), who moved away last year, listen to weird music, read creepy vampire novels, drink unnatural amounts of coffee and argue about the plural of “moose” with Mikey.
I need a LIFE.
*
Frank’s point of view:
The rusty chains of the swing creak squeakily, as I swing moodily back and forth, dragging my feet across the worn Tar-Mac below me and scuffing my stripy red and black converse.
Tiny droplets of rain are falling from the cloudy sky as I swing higher, letting the cool October breeze of a damp Friday afternoon whip my dyed- black hair way from my cheeks.
Friday afternoons should be fun, but after the joys of double maths last lesson (seriously, how sadistic is that?!) and a slight disagreement with my head teacher, Mr. Arthur involving my red eyeliner and a make up wipe which I refused to use, I am not in the best of moods. School sucks.
I’d like to violently mutate and murder the person who thought of it.
Actually I wouldn’t.
I’m terrified of blood.
Whatever- Friday afternoons are meant to be about having fun. I used to spend them with Aled, Dom and Luke, hanging out at the mall, the movies, the park, sneaking into gigs and chatting up girls.
But for months now, it’s been different; ever since my cousin got me into Black Flag and The bouncing souls, ever since I started wearing eyeliner, ever since I admitted that, actually, I think football SUCKS.
The mainly laugh at how I look, jeer at the music I listen to and put the blame on me when they get into trouble. I am the odd one out, the misfit, the scapegoat, but I can’t let them see that they hurt me, I can’t let them win.
I can’t hang out with them as much as before though- not like they’d want me to anyway- it makes me feel too depressed, knowing I haven’t got any real friends, knowing that my so called friends actually hate me, but don’t dump me because I’m a good person to blame, a good person to laugh at, to pick on when there’s no one else to hurt. I can’t tell them what I really think though, or I’ll get mashed into bloody pulp- it’s safer to let them push me around, hurt my feelings.
No one wants Aled Hutchings as an enemy…
what do you think? more happens in the nxt chapter- this is just kinda introducing the characters and the setting, but if you want me to carry on, pweeeeeeeeease R&R to let me know what you think. thanks :)
lucy xo
Sign up to rate and review this story