Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > But No One Sees the Gnashing Teeth of My Heart [Frerard]


by eccentricpaige 3 reviews

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2011-10-10 - Updated: 2011-10-11 - 2048 words

An announcement is made about three minutes before the lunch bell. The office assistance states how important it is for each and every member of the Senior class to make an appearance down in the auditorium. Noting that, I shovel my sorry excuse for a school lunch down my throat with shocking speed and make my way through the double doors and out into the hallway that leads upstairs.

As I go, it sinks in just how much I'm dreading the close contact with such awful people. Hardly anyone in my graduating class can be considered "friendly", and I have no desire to try and change a thing about that.

After coming face-to-face with the breezeway, I make the rash decision to walk inside and wait in the auditorium until the assembly starts. Once I'm about three feet from the door, I hear the cranky voice of the school's World History teacher, Mr. Davis, calling down the hall.

"Iero!" I turn my head cautiously, as to avoid his gaze.

"Yes sir?" I ask in what would seem to be a very calm voice, though on the inside I'd say the tone resembled something closer to panic.

"You know the school's policy. No entering the school until the bell. Just what are you doing in here?" he asks in a bored voice which tells me that no matter what my answer is, he has every intention of reporting me to our beloved principal.

"H-he was going to help me look for my Chemistry project back stage." a soft voice answers in my place. Mr. Davis and I both turn at the same time to face the boy trying to save my ass. I silently thank him with my eyes and encourage him to go on. For a moment, the only thing anyone can hear is the final latching of the closing door behind him, but finally Mr. Davis starts to speak up.

"Oh?" Mr. Davis asks with genuine curiosity. It's obvious he can't place the face of this student, which makes sense considering he's brand spanking new and likes to keep a low profile.

"Yeah. Uhm. I had stored it backstage in an effort to keep it from the Grade 9 Earth Science students, but when I looked for it this morning, it wasn't there. It's due fourth block and... -" but Gerard is cut off by an exasperated sigh from a teacher who, at this point, really wishes he would have just minded his own business.

"Okay, okay. Just make it quick, all right? You boys should be outside enjoying what's left of Fall." Mr. Davis says hurriedly as he backs away in the direction of the teacher's lounge. We both nod and walk like we're aiming to enter the doors until he's turned completely from us.

I run my hand through my hair like it's the most logical response to something like this. "Thanks, man." I whisper almost too eagerly. As I wait for any kind of reply, I take in as much as I can of the boy in front of me. The way he smells like week-old, stale coffee and nicotine, how his breathing is abnormal and shaky, and how his frail stature is getting weaker by the second. The sickening green around his eyes has slowly started to fade away into a dull yellow, and by the look of his un-combed hair, he was in a rush to get to school this morning.

"You're welcome." he states simply. I wait for anything else, but when it doesn't come I just stand there awkwardly, willing a coherent thought to enter my brain and leave my mouth.

"So did you actually need help finding your project or..." I trail off, hoping he'll jump in.

"Huh? Oh, oh no. I don't even have Chemistry this semester." he admits sheepishly. I crack another smile at his quick thinking and utter a small laugh of appreciation.

As I look closer at this body clad in black, I notice how thin Gerard really is. The tight skin stretched over his cheeks looks nearly pained as the prominent bones behind it stick out like they haven't got a choice. The dark hoodie on his upper-half looks like it could fall off any moment from the way it's sagging off of his torso. In fact, the only thing he's wearing that looks like it could be mistaken for fitting would be the skin-tight jeans wrapped tightly around his legs. Once I see his gaze is attracted to the ground again, I study the small splashes of what could only be bleach on the grey denim, before my eyes catch his thin studded belt.

Enough of that, I think.

"So. What exactly are you doing here?" I ask, hoping not to sound too offensive though the question could be taken as nothing but.

"I thought I'd head to the assembly early; get away from the crowd." he whispered, as if he thought his answer was hardly worth mentioning.

"Ha, same." I answer like a fucking loser.

He nods slowly and steals a quick look at me. For a moment, those ever-changing eyes lock right to mine, and I can't help but wonder what registers in his head as he looks at me for two beats too long.

"Should we?" I ask, gesturing to the door with an unsure way about me. Again, he nods shyly and follows me through into the air-conditioned room. The three hundred or so seats are all lined up and folded; untouched by anyone since the last time one of the janitors moved them to vacuum the carpet. I take a seat in one of the last middle rows and watch, interested, as Gerard stands frozen in front of me.

"You can sit, you know?" I say with a polite smile brushed across my lips. I find it funny that it's me initiating everything, when just last night I had made the decision to bury all of my thoughts about him.

Gerard smirks softly and slowly bends until he's seated in the dull brown chair next to mine.

I'm lost for words as I can't look away from those trembling hands. The way he'll occasionally nip at the sides of each finger and gnaw at this cuticles with those pointed teeth. And the way he's completely unaware of how closely I'm watching him. His nervousness is somewhat contagious as I find myself uncomfortable with being in his presence. It's so difficult not to speak up with the lame bathroom excuse, but somehow I keep from it. Just as I'm about to open my mouth to say God only knows what, the bell rings and about thirty kids fill the room in a matter of moments.

I lose all sense of time as the speaker steps on stage and begins his hour-long rant about the importance of filling out college applications. Like we've never gone over this before. Like we're all incompetent and unable to prepare ourselves for our future in any way. I grow bored with the way he's managed to say the same thing over and over in about three hundred different ways, and I absently utter a rather loud yawn as I lie my head back on the cold seat. This, surprisingly, draws a tiny -almost inaudible- laugh from Gerard, and it occurs to me that we're still sitting beside each other. That I'm acting like my sloppy, lazy self in front of someone who actually might make the effort of paying attention. I sit up straight and foolishly straighten out my jacket, trying to swipe away the various pieces of lint and dog hair from its black surface. The rest of the lecture goes by far too slowly as I'm making the conscious effort to act as normal as possible. When it finally does come to a close, I stand up quickly to stretch and force myself to leave the room at a speed I can't explain.

The bell sounds off and another announcement is made, this time telling every third block teacher that all Seniors should be back in their respective classrooms within the next five minutes. I wonder around aimlessly, unable to get my head into the idea of going back to another 90 minute class. It's like I'm drunk on a new experience or something, and the feeling annoys me further than I can stand. Fuck the consequences, I need to get out of here.

Once I'm at my locker, I grab my bag and the work I've been given so far and leave through the side door past the English hall. A wave of not-quite Winter air hits me hard, and brings what I'm doing to my attention. My mom could find out. But she's already taken away what little she could. I go with God and follow the cement walkway off campus and down the road toward the library. The only thing I care about is the inevitable slapping of each foot as it touches the ground which calms me like my music would. With each step, I start to feel the extra liberty wash over me. I just needed to get out of there; I just needed to get away from him.

I decide to hide out in the small town's public library until a few minutes before school ends. That should give me just enough time to make the trek back up to campus and ride the bus home to avoid having to explain anything to my parents.

A little while later I start back up the road for the school's parking lot. The plan works as I knew it would and in a half an hour I'm safely at home with the activities of my afternoon permanently swept under the rug.

The next few days go by as quickly as anyone would expect. I take in very little and do nothing document-worthy. It seems I've done my very best to avoid Gerard outside of class as often as possible, but I still manage to run into him with an awkward smile on my face I wish more than anything I could wash off. His reactions to our meetings are blank and confused, but beneath that layer of apathy I can see a swish of excitement. Like he's as baffled by my presence as I am his. And it's comforting to think this way, because it makes me feel much less of a freak. I take in the way his troubled green eyes will suck the life out of mine; like he's in search of a power source and I'll just have to do. I find that being used for this isn't nearly as disturbing as it should be, though. As he latches onto me like a parasite, I stand there willingly until either one of us has the audacity to look away.

On Monday, I wait for school to let out before I leave for the hospital. This time it's my mother's Thyroid pills I'll be signing for. I hardly break a sweat as it's no more than 45 degrees outside, and when I see the large, windowed building in sight, I just know who I'll find by the doors.

As sure as this world is bland, Gerard is leaning against the cold slab of concrete blocks enjoying what's left of his cigarette. How the fuck he manages to get here so soon is beyond me, but I give him his privacy by going especially slow, and only dare to stand at the entrance once he's well inside again.

I pick up what my mother has called in for and leave just as quickly. Once I'm safely home again, it's up to me to find my mom and hand-deliver her medicine as I try to thaw out from the chill outside.

"Thanks, honey. You better start getting ready you know." she says expectantly. I rack my brain for any notion of what she's talking about. Just when I think I'm lost, it strikes me what the date is. I feel whatever color that had made its way back onto my cheeks drain back off. Of all the weeks, it had to be this one. This Fall's Holy Week. Service every night. And knowing my family, we'll be the first ones there.
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