Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Shut Up, Mikey
Once I’ve caught my breath, I flop down on my bed and, finally, flip open the sketchbook. My eyes settle on the first image and my mouth drops open, my eyes widening as I say out loud the first thing that pops into my head: “What. The. Fuck.”
That’s me.
What the fuck. That’s me. The first drawing in Gerard’s black sketchbook is a drawing of me.
I turn the page.
That’s also me. And so is the next one and so is the one after that and the one after that...
I turn the pages feverishly. They’re all me. Various poses, various types of eyeliner, various outfits, all me.
What the actual fuck?
And then, on the last page, there’s a note. I read it through once, twice, three times, my eyes widening a bit more each time until they’re practically popping out of their sockets. I stare at the page, the words going in and out of focus, my breathing quick and shallow.
“OK, so, this is really creepy, right?
I’m not sure why, but every time I see you I just God Gerard, that’s fucking cheesy
Okay, so I kinda sorta maybe
FUCK THIS
I really like you, okay?
There. I said it.
Well, no I didn’t. I wrote it. I’ve never actually said it out loud.
God, I’m pathetic. Here I am, completely in love with you, and instead of telling you, I draw pictures of you and write you letters you’re probably never going to read. Great, right?
Sometimes I have these insane moments where I want to come right out and tell you. But I don’t. I can’t. The one time I got anywhere close to actually saying it, I froze up.
Because telling you would probably ruin everything. And if I ruined everything with you then my life would suck. Really bad. Seriously. You’re one of the best things in my life, and I’m not going to risk ruining our friendship because you have beautiful eyes and an amazing laugh and the best sense of humour and guitar player’s hands and the skill to go with them and I want to kiss you.
I just can’t lose you, that’s all.
And that’s why I can never do anything about this, ever. I can draw you, but that’s it. Because I can’t fuck this up like I fuck up half the shit in my life.
Because I love you.”
After a moment, I place the sketchbook on my bed with trembling hands. There’s no way this is real. No fucking way. I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch myself. The sketchbook is still in front of me when I open my eyes again.
I sit there for another second trying to think. When that attempt fails, I vault off my bed, run out of my room and practically fall down the stairs, sketchbook in hand.
I run all the way to the Way house (ha ha ha), despite my skinny jeans. I plan to catch my breath and then knock, but before I can do either, the door swings open.
“Did you just run here?” Mikey asks, raising his eyebrows and smirking at the sight of me practically doubled over, panting for breath with my hands on my knees. “In skinnies?”
“Shut up, Mikey.”
He lets me get my breath back without making any more remarks, but when I stand up straight he does his fucking creepy mind-reading soul-scanning thing and says “He didn’t mean it, you know.”
My heart falls. Actually, that’s a massive understatement. It plummets a million feet from a plane without a parachute. I try to convince myself that I had known that, that it had obviously been too good to be true. I fail.
“Oh,” I say miserably. I try to keep a straight face the way Mikey always does. It doesn’t work. Mikey looks highly confused for some reason. Like he doesn’t know what I’m looking so upset about.
On the bright side, he’s probably just saved me from complete and total mortification.
“Well,” I say, at a loss for words. “Uh. Can you just... give this back to Gerard for me, maybe?” I hold the sketchbook out.
He stares, his eyes widening behind his glasses. He looks stunned. Now I’m confused.
He looks up at me. “I didn’t know he gave you that!”
My eyes widen too. In any other circumstance I would have burst out laughing because we’re staring wide-eyed at each other like a couple of fucking owls, but just now I’m too busy wanting to skip with joy because he hadn’t been talking about the note in the sketchbook.
“That’s not what I was talking about,” he says as though confirming my thoughts. Fucking mind reader.
“Wait...” I say slowly as I suddenly realize something. “You knew about this? The sketchbook?”
“Uh, yeah.”
I glare and swat his arm. “You motherfucker! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Wasn’t my thing to tell,” he says.
I pull a face at him, sticking out my tongue. He rolls his eyes.
“Anyway, I meant about what he said in detention.”
I frown. I’d forgotten about that.
“He didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did,” he says. “He just- you know Gerard.”
“Duh.” I roll my eyes.
“I mean, you know he has fucked up self-esteem. So he hears that you like him and he goes, ‘No way. That’s crazy. Why the hell would anyone like me?’ y’know? Like, he didn’t mean it would be ridiculous if you liked him... well, he did, but like, not in that way so-”
“Jeez, Mikey, calm down,” I say, half-smiling. “I get it.”
He grins sheepishly before an evil look crosses his face. “Coming in?” he asks. “I mean, I’m sure you urgently need to get that sketchbook back to my dear older brother.”
My heart feels like it’s about to jump right out of my chest. “Can’t you just give it back to him for me?” I ask weakly.
He looks into my eyes and says calmly, “You’re being a pussy.”
“Shut up, Mikey.”
I follow him up the stairs, starting to feel a bit panicky. Mikey keeps flashing me evil grins. The little fucker’s having the time of his life.
“God, Frank, you’re hyperventilating!”
“I am not fucking hyperventilating! Shut up, Mikey!”
We reach the second floor and Mikey disappears into his bedroom after giving me an “encouraging” thumbs up. I stand outside Gerard’s door for a really, really long time trying to work up the courage to go in. I stand there for so long, in fact, that Mikey pokes his head back out of his room, rolls his eyes when he sees me still standing there, runs out, knocks on the door for me and runs back to his room, getting back inside just as the door in front of me swings open to reveal Gerard.
I freeze.
He freezes.
Oh my God, Michael James Way, I am going to personally kill you for this.
“Hi,” he says faintly.
“Ah... hi,” I choke out.
We stand there like that for what seems forever, me cursing Mikey in my mind. Finally, Gerard shifts to the side a bit and says, “Uh... I guess you should... come in... Or whatever...”
“Oh! Ah... okay,” I say hurriedly, stepping into the room. He shuts the door behind me.
We both hover there awkwardly for a minute, then Gerard suddenly bursts out “I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry. I was such an ass earlier, I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay,” I manage, cutting off his blabbering. “I was being an ass too.”
“Yeah, because I was being an ass!”
“But I was being an ass because you were being an ass because I was being ass. So really, I should be the one apologizing,” I persist. He raises his eyebrows. “So... um... sorry for being such an ass...?” I cringe a bit at how stupid that sounded. Stupid, stupid, stupid. God, Iero, pull yourself together!
Gerard smiles. It turns into a grin. He chuckles. And then he starts laughing. Before long he’s practically collapsing on the floor, tears of mirth gathering in his eyes. I stare at him in confusion.
“Come on, that wasn’t that funny,” I protest.
He gets a hold of himself relatively quickly, considering how much he’s just been laughing. Then he looks at me with this huge fucking moronic grin on his face and says, “I love you.”
I kind of want to squeal like some airheaded girl but instead I say, “I saw,” holding his sketchbook out.
He takes it, his pale cheeks flushing slightly pink. “Oh.”
“They- they were good. The drawings.”
“Yeah, and creepy,” he mutters.
“I didn’t think they were creepy, I thought they were awesome,” I say. “Besides, at least you were doing something productive instead of just sitting and staring like I was.”
He grins. “You were sitting and staring at me?”
Now it’s my turn to flush. “Only a little!” I say defensively. “Okay, well... not really a little... more like... a lot...”
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m just so nice to look at,” he says sarcastically.
“Yeah, exactly.”
He opens his mouth to retort but before he can, there is a bang on the wall from next door.
“Why are you guys still chit-chatting?” Mikey yells.
“Shut up, Mikey,” Gerard yells back.
“Seriously! Will you guys please just make out already?! God!”
“Mikey, you fucker!” I shout. “Stop eavesdroppi-”
But then Gerard’s hands are on my hips and his mouth is on mine and suddenly I couldn’t care less what Mikey’s doing.
“Fucking finally!” Mikey crows.
My mind has gone totally blank so it takes a moment for a thought to form.
Shut up, Mikey.
As soon as I’ve thought that, my brain kicks back into gear and I realize several things. The first is that Gerard tastes like juice and it’s fucking delicious. The second is that I’m standing there like an idiot with my hands dangling at my sides, and the third is that I’m fucking short and Gerard has to bend his head down quite a bit to reach me.
And so I go up on my tippytoes and cup his face in my hands and kiss him back.
A/N: :D Soooo there ya go. There's one more chapter after this. Rate and review, my lovelies? Pretty please?
That’s me.
What the fuck. That’s me. The first drawing in Gerard’s black sketchbook is a drawing of me.
I turn the page.
That’s also me. And so is the next one and so is the one after that and the one after that...
I turn the pages feverishly. They’re all me. Various poses, various types of eyeliner, various outfits, all me.
What the actual fuck?
And then, on the last page, there’s a note. I read it through once, twice, three times, my eyes widening a bit more each time until they’re practically popping out of their sockets. I stare at the page, the words going in and out of focus, my breathing quick and shallow.
“OK, so, this is really creepy, right?
I’m not sure why, but every time I see you I just God Gerard, that’s fucking cheesy
Okay, so I kinda sorta maybe
FUCK THIS
I really like you, okay?
There. I said it.
Well, no I didn’t. I wrote it. I’ve never actually said it out loud.
God, I’m pathetic. Here I am, completely in love with you, and instead of telling you, I draw pictures of you and write you letters you’re probably never going to read. Great, right?
Sometimes I have these insane moments where I want to come right out and tell you. But I don’t. I can’t. The one time I got anywhere close to actually saying it, I froze up.
Because telling you would probably ruin everything. And if I ruined everything with you then my life would suck. Really bad. Seriously. You’re one of the best things in my life, and I’m not going to risk ruining our friendship because you have beautiful eyes and an amazing laugh and the best sense of humour and guitar player’s hands and the skill to go with them and I want to kiss you.
I just can’t lose you, that’s all.
And that’s why I can never do anything about this, ever. I can draw you, but that’s it. Because I can’t fuck this up like I fuck up half the shit in my life.
Because I love you.”
After a moment, I place the sketchbook on my bed with trembling hands. There’s no way this is real. No fucking way. I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch myself. The sketchbook is still in front of me when I open my eyes again.
I sit there for another second trying to think. When that attempt fails, I vault off my bed, run out of my room and practically fall down the stairs, sketchbook in hand.
I run all the way to the Way house (ha ha ha), despite my skinny jeans. I plan to catch my breath and then knock, but before I can do either, the door swings open.
“Did you just run here?” Mikey asks, raising his eyebrows and smirking at the sight of me practically doubled over, panting for breath with my hands on my knees. “In skinnies?”
“Shut up, Mikey.”
He lets me get my breath back without making any more remarks, but when I stand up straight he does his fucking creepy mind-reading soul-scanning thing and says “He didn’t mean it, you know.”
My heart falls. Actually, that’s a massive understatement. It plummets a million feet from a plane without a parachute. I try to convince myself that I had known that, that it had obviously been too good to be true. I fail.
“Oh,” I say miserably. I try to keep a straight face the way Mikey always does. It doesn’t work. Mikey looks highly confused for some reason. Like he doesn’t know what I’m looking so upset about.
On the bright side, he’s probably just saved me from complete and total mortification.
“Well,” I say, at a loss for words. “Uh. Can you just... give this back to Gerard for me, maybe?” I hold the sketchbook out.
He stares, his eyes widening behind his glasses. He looks stunned. Now I’m confused.
He looks up at me. “I didn’t know he gave you that!”
My eyes widen too. In any other circumstance I would have burst out laughing because we’re staring wide-eyed at each other like a couple of fucking owls, but just now I’m too busy wanting to skip with joy because he hadn’t been talking about the note in the sketchbook.
“That’s not what I was talking about,” he says as though confirming my thoughts. Fucking mind reader.
“Wait...” I say slowly as I suddenly realize something. “You knew about this? The sketchbook?”
“Uh, yeah.”
I glare and swat his arm. “You motherfucker! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Wasn’t my thing to tell,” he says.
I pull a face at him, sticking out my tongue. He rolls his eyes.
“Anyway, I meant about what he said in detention.”
I frown. I’d forgotten about that.
“He didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did,” he says. “He just- you know Gerard.”
“Duh.” I roll my eyes.
“I mean, you know he has fucked up self-esteem. So he hears that you like him and he goes, ‘No way. That’s crazy. Why the hell would anyone like me?’ y’know? Like, he didn’t mean it would be ridiculous if you liked him... well, he did, but like, not in that way so-”
“Jeez, Mikey, calm down,” I say, half-smiling. “I get it.”
He grins sheepishly before an evil look crosses his face. “Coming in?” he asks. “I mean, I’m sure you urgently need to get that sketchbook back to my dear older brother.”
My heart feels like it’s about to jump right out of my chest. “Can’t you just give it back to him for me?” I ask weakly.
He looks into my eyes and says calmly, “You’re being a pussy.”
“Shut up, Mikey.”
I follow him up the stairs, starting to feel a bit panicky. Mikey keeps flashing me evil grins. The little fucker’s having the time of his life.
“God, Frank, you’re hyperventilating!”
“I am not fucking hyperventilating! Shut up, Mikey!”
We reach the second floor and Mikey disappears into his bedroom after giving me an “encouraging” thumbs up. I stand outside Gerard’s door for a really, really long time trying to work up the courage to go in. I stand there for so long, in fact, that Mikey pokes his head back out of his room, rolls his eyes when he sees me still standing there, runs out, knocks on the door for me and runs back to his room, getting back inside just as the door in front of me swings open to reveal Gerard.
I freeze.
He freezes.
Oh my God, Michael James Way, I am going to personally kill you for this.
“Hi,” he says faintly.
“Ah... hi,” I choke out.
We stand there like that for what seems forever, me cursing Mikey in my mind. Finally, Gerard shifts to the side a bit and says, “Uh... I guess you should... come in... Or whatever...”
“Oh! Ah... okay,” I say hurriedly, stepping into the room. He shuts the door behind me.
We both hover there awkwardly for a minute, then Gerard suddenly bursts out “I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry. I was such an ass earlier, I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay,” I manage, cutting off his blabbering. “I was being an ass too.”
“Yeah, because I was being an ass!”
“But I was being an ass because you were being an ass because I was being ass. So really, I should be the one apologizing,” I persist. He raises his eyebrows. “So... um... sorry for being such an ass...?” I cringe a bit at how stupid that sounded. Stupid, stupid, stupid. God, Iero, pull yourself together!
Gerard smiles. It turns into a grin. He chuckles. And then he starts laughing. Before long he’s practically collapsing on the floor, tears of mirth gathering in his eyes. I stare at him in confusion.
“Come on, that wasn’t that funny,” I protest.
He gets a hold of himself relatively quickly, considering how much he’s just been laughing. Then he looks at me with this huge fucking moronic grin on his face and says, “I love you.”
I kind of want to squeal like some airheaded girl but instead I say, “I saw,” holding his sketchbook out.
He takes it, his pale cheeks flushing slightly pink. “Oh.”
“They- they were good. The drawings.”
“Yeah, and creepy,” he mutters.
“I didn’t think they were creepy, I thought they were awesome,” I say. “Besides, at least you were doing something productive instead of just sitting and staring like I was.”
He grins. “You were sitting and staring at me?”
Now it’s my turn to flush. “Only a little!” I say defensively. “Okay, well... not really a little... more like... a lot...”
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m just so nice to look at,” he says sarcastically.
“Yeah, exactly.”
He opens his mouth to retort but before he can, there is a bang on the wall from next door.
“Why are you guys still chit-chatting?” Mikey yells.
“Shut up, Mikey,” Gerard yells back.
“Seriously! Will you guys please just make out already?! God!”
“Mikey, you fucker!” I shout. “Stop eavesdroppi-”
But then Gerard’s hands are on my hips and his mouth is on mine and suddenly I couldn’t care less what Mikey’s doing.
“Fucking finally!” Mikey crows.
My mind has gone totally blank so it takes a moment for a thought to form.
Shut up, Mikey.
As soon as I’ve thought that, my brain kicks back into gear and I realize several things. The first is that Gerard tastes like juice and it’s fucking delicious. The second is that I’m standing there like an idiot with my hands dangling at my sides, and the third is that I’m fucking short and Gerard has to bend his head down quite a bit to reach me.
And so I go up on my tippytoes and cup his face in my hands and kiss him back.
A/N: :D Soooo there ya go. There's one more chapter after this. Rate and review, my lovelies? Pretty please?
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