FicWad

Before I could account for my actions, my fist had made hard impact with his jaw. He brought his hand to his jaw, his eyes holding even more hate than ever. I stretched out my fingers at my side, not noticing the pain shooting through my knuckles. Alba stood in front of us, and was shouting something, but I wasn't listening. I was focused on Gerard. The hate and anger in his eyes, his psychotic smile. Wonder if he ever would have had the confidence for this if he was sober. I was completely focused on him.

“Is that all you got?” he asked with a smirk, egging me on. I was aware that the music had stopped. The room was silent. He knew full well that by winding me up, I’d strike out again. That’s what he wanted. “You’re a fucking bitch. No wonder your parents hate you.” he spat. I saw red, and charged at him, forgetting Alba was standing in between the both of us. Fortunately for her, she got out of the way before I knocked Gerard to the floor, and began to collide my fists with his face. I had no control over myself, no feeling, no emotion other than anger and hate. I’ve never hated someone as much as I hated Gerard right now.

I felt several arms pull me off Gerard, and saw another pull Gerard up. I pulled myself out of the strong grip binding my arms together, and turned around to face Ray and Bob. I took one last look at Gerard, before storming out of the club, pushing past the crowd gathered around us. I pushed the door open and barged past Frank, accidentally knocking him with my shoulder.

“Whoa, what happened in there?” Frank asked, as I leaned against the wall with my eyes closed, inhaling deep breaths of the New Jersey air, in an attempt to calm myself down. My fists stung, and I hated myself for what I had done.
“He wound me up.” I said simply. I heard Frank sigh.

“C’mon. Let’s get you home.” he said softly. I opened my eyes to meet with his tired hazel ones.



“I didn’t mean to attack him…” I said quietly, as I lay with my head in Frank’s lap on the sofa. He brushed my hair with his fingers and released a sigh.

“I know.” he said soothingly.

“It’s just, he said something about me being a bitch, and that’s why my parents hate me…” I said, opening my eyes, and looking up at his face; his tired eyes, looking down at me, with a soft expression. His lips curving into a slight smile. The dark room, creating shadows on his features. “That’s not why my parents hate me” I said, turning my head to the side, so I was looking at the blank TV screen. The room dark, apart from the lighted various candles around the room, the reflection of us staring back at me in the screen. I didn’t want him to see the hurt in my eyes. That’s one thing I don’t show; pain. But I guess Gerard thinks he’s found a weakness tonight. Frank cleared his throat.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you get along with your parents?” he asked. I could hear the curiosity in his voice. Almost picture it in his expression. Honestly, I’d seen it in his eyes for the past few weeks. I sighed, and continued to stare at the reflection in the TV screen. I wasn’t ignoring his question, I was contemplating whether to tell him or not. I didn’t want him to look at me differently once he knew. I took a deep breath. The steady rhythm of Frank’s breathing, and his fingers brushing through my hair soothing me.

“I was bullied as a kid. Pretty bad. I’d come home everyday with a new cut, or a new bruised rib or something.” I said, closing my eyes. My chest tightening at the pained memories. Frank remained silent, waiting for me to continue. “So Dylan and Cameron took it in turns in taking me to boxing classes. My parents didn’t know, and when they found out, they went crazy.” I explained. “See, my parents wanted me to be really girly. They wanted me to be a cheerleader, and get a respectable boyfriend. The way they saw it, was that they already had two sons, they didn’t want another one.” I said, pausing as I relived the memories. “I continued to go to the classed behind their backs. I entered competitions and stuff. But even though I’d learnt how to defend myself, the bullying didn’t stop.” I said with a sigh. “So I started drinking to help myself deal with it. Soon I became dependent on it. I’d sell my stuff to buy the alcohol, and when my parents found out, it was like world war III. They disowned me, and chucked me out of the house. So I moved in with Dylan and Billy”. Frank moved his hand from my hair, to my cheek and brushed it softly, leaving a tingling warm trail where his skin had met mine.

“They helped me with a lot. I missed a lot of school, because of counseling sessions and bullying, but I beat it.” I said, opening my eyes, and turning to look up at Frank. He gave me a faint smile. “Been sober since I was 18.” I was with a proud smile. Frank smiled too, and flicked the tip of my nose.

“You know, Gerard used to be an alcoholic too.” Frank said, tearing his eyes from mine, and looking at the wall in front of us. “He’d get violent, and try to take us all on. He even turned against Mikey.” he said, a pained expression written across his face. “He’s been sober for a while now too.” he said with a proud smile, similar to the one he had given me. Then it hit me. I frowned, and looked up at Frank confused.

“But Gerard was drinking shots earlier. I smelled the alcohol on his breath.” I said with confusion. Frank turned to look at me, seriousness written all across his face and etched into his eyes. He was about to say something, when the front door opened.

We both looked up to see Mikey in the doorway. He looked at us, and his eyes fell on me, fixated onto my own. He broke eye contact, and put his head down, before backing back out of the door, and walking up stairs to his bedroom. I sighed, and stared at the door.

“He hates me.” I sighed.

“No he doesn’t. Just give him till the morning.” Frank said smoothly, his fingers finding their way back into my hair.


I awoke shaking. My rapid heart beat causing my fast breathing. So fast, my chest was constricted to the point where I was about ready to pass out. I heard a noise downstairs, meeting my ears. The sound amplified twenty times louder, and bouncing around in my head, leaving echoes rebounding off the after thoughts of the all too familiar nightmare, which haunted my dreams like a cancer.

I pushed myself out of bed, after regaining my composure, and made my way downstairs. It wasn’t until I walked into the living room, that I remembered the events of last night. I gulped, and brought a shaking hand up into my line of vision. I turned it over, and allowed my eyes to wander and examine the cuts on my knuckles. The fresh small scabs surrounded by sore, red skin. A shiver shot down my spine, leaving a tingling sensation creeping down my arms and legs, at the thought of the damage I had done to Gerard. Guilt consumed me, like a blanket and I rubbed my face with my hand in a vain attempt at trying to erase it all.


I slowly walked into the kitchen, my eyes on the cool tiled floor I was walking on, trying to stand on the body of the tile, and not the cracks separating the two tiles; just like I used to as a kid. I looked up slowly, and met with Mikey’s tired eyes. I quickly looked away, and turned on my heels. I couldn’t imagine how mad Mikey must be with me, and I don’t really want to face it at the minute. I was feeling bad enough, as it is.

“Wait!” I heard a voice say. I turned around, as I was about to open the door to retreat back to my bedroom. Frank stopped in front of me, and stood in front of the door so I couldn’t open it. His hair sticking up in random places, and a spoon in his left hand. “Come eat breakfast. I’m making pancakes.” he said with a hopeful, toothy grin. I gave him a faint smile.

“Nah, I feel bad enough. I don’t really want Mikey to sit there, taking Gerard’s place with the glares.” I said, looking away from his eyes to my hands. The wounds on my knuckled a constant reminder of how much of a bad person I am. I guess I deserved to feel this way. Frank placed his hands around mine, and ran his thumbs over my knuckles. I brought my eyes up to meet with his concerned ones.

“He won’t glare at you. We all know Gerard asked for it.” he said, tilting his head; his eyes penetrating mine, and burning his words into my mind. I sighed and closed my eyes, as I nodded. Trying to prepare myself for what was about to come. I guess I had to face it some time, might as well get it over with. Frank smiled and led me into the kitchen.


I kept my gaze on the floor as he led me to a seat at the table opposite Mikey. I didn’t look up, even though I could feel his gaze on me. I stared at my hands as they fiddled with each other through nerves, as they rested on the table.

“Morning.” Mikey’s dry voice said quietly. I looked up at him confused as to why he was talking to me.

“Morning…” I replied quietly, my gaze turning to Frank, who stood mixing the pancake batter. He shot me a quick, friendly smile. I returned a faint one, before turning back to my hands. I gulped and tried to gain the right words to say. “I’m sorry.” I said quietly, keeping my gaze on my knotted fingers. I sensed Mikey looking up at me, and fix his gaze on me. He kept it there for a few seconds, before I heard him sigh, and felt him tear his gaze away from me, and look back down at the table.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” I said quietly, looking up at him, with a new found confidence. I just needed him to know my side of the story. I knew he’d be biased on the subject, due to Gerard being his brother, but nonetheless, he needed to hear it from me. Mikey brought his eyes to mine, and my stomach flipped, as I prepared myself to be verbally attacked by him.

“I know.” he said simply, looking back down, and catching my off guard. My eyes widened with shock. I seriously wasn’t expecting that. He’d definitely just threw me off guard.

“Alba told me what happened.” he said, looking back up to me, and meeting my eyes. I couldn’t read the emotion in them. I was too shocked at what I was hearing. “She also told me he’d drank alcohol.” Mikey said, his tone held a hint of shame, and he looked down.

“So you don’t hate me then?” I asked, with a small timid voice, afraid of the answer. He looked up at me with a growing smile on his lips.

“No, I don’t hate you.” he said, with a soft expression. Neither of us as tense as before. “But I’m sure, Gerard still doesn’t love you.” he said, with a goofy smile. I nodded and gave a faint smile back.

“Pancakesss!” Sang Frank happily, as a plate of fresh, steaming pancakes appeared in front of me. I looked up at his smiling face; he looked down at me and winked.