FicWad

Um…Hey you guys…
I don’t really know where to start…I know it’s been a long time, and, as you’ve probably figured out by now, I’m not very good at the whole ‘regular update’ thing.
I know it’s been fucking ages, and I didn’t even let you guys know I would update in a while, but I didn’t really know. A lot of shit has happened lately involving anxiety and other things, as well as it’s the time of year I lost an important person to me—my grandma, and it’s when everything started, and this time of year—despite actually being my favorite, season and holiday wise (Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, fall and winter…), it just reminds me of everything I wish people weren’t bothered with, things along the lines of anxiety and depression. And other things kind of went to shit as well. So it’s been pretty hard, and I was relying on music and guitar to feel better—which did work, but writing kinda went to hell during that time.
I wasn’t sure if people were still reading this at all, so I kind of hid it away on my desktop and didn’t look at it for some time.
We’ve also had this massive English project which consisted of putting on a production of Macbeth, and I was one of the people working on art, and that literally took up all my time in between drawings and posters. But now that’s over, so that’s a lot less work XD.
I didn’t even know if I would keep writing, until a few reviews showed up in my inbox saying that a few of you liked the story and were asking me when I’d update it, and that made me jump up and down with joy, and without them, I never would’ve written on this story again, so a giant GIANT THANKS! I’m actually really excited to upload this chapter, and I hope you guys will like it! I know it's been a very long wait and I hope you haven't lost interest in this story...if you have though, i know it s been ages and I do understand.
I’m also going to do a very evil thing. I have the chapter after this one written, but since I’d like to know what you think/if you’re still interested in this story, I’m not going to upload it until I get a few reviews. :D

Well…here it is. Enjoy and R&R!
(Title from HIM song btw—listening to them right now.)


KILLING LONELINESS


I…um…need to talk to you” I say, as I watch him apprehensively through greasy wisps of not-exactly-black hair that need to be re-dyed. At first I’m nervous, scared, and wondering what I’ll do if he doesn’t agree to it, and if he still wants throw spatulas at his brother and have them ricochet off my head. Wondering if he is still reasonably mad at me for being an idiot, and if he’s still scared of what I’ll think of him, just as Mikey had explained things in the dusty closet I never thought would be useful for something other than getting blood all over my shirt.

I really don’t see what he’d be scared of me knowing though. My own father is probably considering castrating me, I always take things the wrong way because I’m incapable of realizing that I might be wrong, only admitting it when it’s too late, and I push away anybody nice enough to give me a second chance. So why he is actually scared of what I’ll think; I don’t understand.

Well, actually, that’s not true.

I know why he is scared. He’s been rejected his whole life, and I haven’t necessarily helped that these past few days. He’s probably used to being used, mocked, humiliated, and scared. He’s use to it like I am, so I do know why he’d be scared of me knowing certain things; I could end up using them against him. Only that I would never do that, I know how much it hurts, and I would never want to hurt him anymore than I have. And honestly, if he chose not to talk to me, I would understand. Fuck, I would understand if he sent Anthony and his pack of hungry, slimy friends after me, friends that drool over every girl whose skirt is just a tiny bit too short. I mean, I would never understand how he’d talk to Anthony without receiving a few punches, or his trademark if-you-were-bigger-you’d-kill-me comments. But as I see Gerard’s face light up, it strikes me that I don’t need to understand everything, that this is my second chance and that I’m not gonna fuck it up. He nods, a few strands of ebony hair nudging the tip of his nose, his eyelashes curling upwards revealing a golden sparkle in his eyes, one I haven’t seen since the day I helped him over the wooden fence—the day we skipped PE. The first day in a very long time where I’d felt like I had a real friend.

“H-here?” his voice quivers shyly, and I snap back to reality.
“huh?”
“w-we’re n-not g-gonna t-talk h-here…a-are w-we?” he asks, nibbling his bottom lip slightly, artistic hazel eyes glancing over my shoulder and lingering on Lady Strawberry Shortcake. I glance around the spotless Ikea furnished kingdom of Queen Hubba Bubba: the wooden door with the frosted glass plates in them, the few healthcare magazines strewn across the coffee table and what looks like a big plastic spray-painted holiday reef. I’m about to suggest a nearby Starbucks when the annoying as fuck voice in the back of my head pipes up. If he’s here, it’s that he has an appointment, shitface. Oh…right. My eyes linger on a spot about two inches to his right as I try and find what to say.
“U-Um…” I stutter out, my tongue poking at the inside of my silver lip ring. “Don’t you…have to…ya know...see…” I trail off as I stare through the window at the falling snowflakes, alabaster butterflies fluttering around an indigo canvas. I tap my feet anxiously and notice his hazel eyes looking at me, puzzled.
“See him.” I add, trying to causally swing my hand in the direction of John’s office door, instead banging it against the spotless wall. I scowl inwardly as he chuckles.
“N-not f-for l-like, a-an h-hour” He says. Oh, okay. Wait--
“Then why are you here?”
“M-mikey” he says, laughing a little as he does. Realizing why Mikey had tentatively brought up John Mitch at school and had pretty much tricked me into telling him what time I’d be there, I smile myself.
“How about we talk outside?” I ask and he nods, padding towards the doorway dragging his scruffy shoes along the carpet as I follow teetering behind him. He barely has a chance to make it past the doorway that I manage to trip over thin air and stumble into him, crashing both of s headfirst into the wall.

Suddenly, it’s a whirl of dark green plastic leaves, scruffy shoes and lavender, cigarette smoke, vanilla and coffee. There’s a loud bang, followed by the sound of plastic twigs snapping, a loud nauseatingly high-pitched screech and a few grunts coming from Gerard, who’s squirming underneath me, thighs dangerously close to mine. Horrified, I scramble off him awkwardly, nearly summersaulting backwards into the knocked over plastic plant, the fake mint green moss that was lining the bottom scattered all over the place. I can hear an office door open and heavy footsteps mixed with the unstable patter of 6-inch heels, as the smell of bubblegum becomes increasingly stronger. Can hear queen hubba bubba—who masquerades as the receptionist during the day—screech repeatedly until someone I really, really didn’t want to see clears his throat.
“I thought I heard familiar voices!” He exclaims, clapping his pasty hands together. I roll over onto my stomach, burying my blushing face in the crook of my elbow and block out any light reminding me of my current situation.
“Hi Gerard! You’re here a bit early! And…let’s see… who is this?” I grunt as I feel him stake a step closer.
“Ah, with that grunt, you must be Frank Iero.” He states proudly as if he’d just made an astonishing discovery.
“No shit.” I mumble sarcastically under my breath, not really sure if he hears or not. I’m guessing he does, sighing at the same time that the receptionist gasps. I stick my nose up over my elbow, peering up at her through clumps of greasy dark hair.
“Kids these days really have a lousy vocabulary!” she mutters, covering her mouth with her nine plastic nails and one natural one.
“Yeah, I wonder if getting gum stuck in my badly permed hair would help that.” I grumble, lowering my head back into the comfort of my soft black hoodie.
“Always in a good mood aren’t you, Frank.” John grumbles, before padding away and ducking back into his canary yellow office. After receiving an ill-tempered hiss from the duchess of bubblegum flavored Trident I hear her totter away, barely balancing in her black and silver stilettos. I feel something poking me gently, and lift my gaze just enough to see a spidery ivory index finger pressed softly into my arm. I shake my hair away from my face, blushing furiously as I meet Gerard’s perplexed one.
“A-Are y-you o-o-okay?” he asks as he frowns a little, which actually makes him look deliciously sexy. No—not now. He’s just your friend, and besides, you’ve just possibly landed yourself a place in the Guinness world record’s book for stupidity, clumsiness, and embarrassment. I grunt, replying to the little nagging voice in my head that seems to appear when I least want it to.
“Um…I dunno…” I mumble ineptly. “How much of that did you see?” I add, trying to hide behind my oily bangs. Gerard tries to hide a snort.
“U-um…p-pretty m-much a-a-all o-of i-i-it.” He answers sheepishly, a soft, concerned smile playing on the tips of his pink lips. I growl as I reluctantly push myself up, picking up a few pieces of Styrofoam moss along the way, tossing them carelessly into the corner. Losing my balance I flop back down onto my back, and stare blankly at the speckled ceiling. All of a sudden I see an arm extend towards me, followed by an iron maiden hoodie, and then a head, framed with ebony hair that curls slightly by his chin. Trembling, I take his soft, warm hand and he pulls me up, my face ending up only a few inches from his. All I see is his dark, chocolate brown eyelashes that cover his beautiful eyes gently, and it’s only when he blinks that I realize that I’m no longer breathing.

He bends down swiftly, picking up the fluffy cranberry red yarn scarf I’d been previously wearing and I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face as he tentatively wraps it around my neck, delicate fingers barely brushing against my jaw as he tucks it in, nibbling his lip nervously as he does so—one hand still holding onto mine. He lifts one of his hoods up over his tousled hair and carefully pushes the door open, leading me into the cold, fluttering snowflakes.

I suddenly feel like I’m in a Christmas card; Gerard leading me outside with my berry red scarf wrapped around me, the white siding of John Mitch’s office surrounded by snow sprinkled pine trees and dancing snowflakes falling all around us as the wind whirls around us and a few cars passing us on the road…the shops across the street that already have their holiday lights up and light…and a pair of hazel eyes with a warm gold flicker in them. A mundane setting turned into a winter wonderland. And I only really realize how cold the wind is when Gerard releases my hand with a coy grin.

-----

“F-Follow m-me.” He says sweetly, what I assume to be the cold air flushing his cheeks a bright magenta. I return the smile, nodding my head and walking after him as he barely keeps the tip of my sleeve caught between his thumb and index finger, leading me through the winding boulevards and bright avenues and small residential streets. We pass parked cars with their headlights still on as people race in and out of their heated cars, bags of groceries, gifts, or household products bundled up against them, and coffee shops filled with people stopping for a warm cup of coffee on their way home from the city. I’m expecting to end up in a nice, warm, welcoming coffee shop, but instead I stop dead in front of a large, shitty building I’ve nicknamed Hell.
“…Um…school?” I ask, mortified. He shakes his head, and keeps tugging on my sleeve until my feet start to move again, reluctant. Finally, we pass the school, and the football field behind the gym and I recognize a wooden fence.
A wooden fence to the side of a brick supermarket and a small patch of iced over grass where we once spent an afternoon. I smile without really realizing it as we both huddle towards the warmth provided by the outdoor heating vents, leaning down against them.


----

I’ve felt so confused lately, drifting aimlessly throughout the nights, contradicting myself every minute, and realizing what could make so much sense; liking Gerard. A friend but stranger…But Everytime I bounce back to the idea of simply wanting a friend…I can see the image of an amber flame dancing around in the night, protruding from my lighter--one I’ve watched whenever I needed to come to a conclusion…Something I did last on the day when I had really met Gerard…That day seems so long ago, as if I’m no longer the same person. Or as if I’m back to the person I used to be…As if I had forgotten what the tattoos inked on my flesh stood for, forgotten what it was like to be excited, or to not think too much about everything…I was still that person a few weeks back: an out-of-place misfit, someone who zoned out way too much, and who got beat up by the football captain for telling him once that his head was uncannily similar to an amputated tree trunk--Anthony, if you’re wondering, by the way. But lately I had turned into someone…different. Someone who ran away from everything, someone that I didn’t even understand, and that someone I was becoming was just an incoherent splotch that slumped around aimlessly.

It’s as if listening to Gerard’s younger brother had been a wake-up call. I didn’t have time to worry about what I had done in the recent past anymore, because if I did any longer, I would lose who I really was. Yes, I was kind of reckless; I didn’t always think twice, and that eventually led up to running up to what had been my grandmother’s house. But after that…it had been confusion, frustration, anger…and hurt. No more lighters, no more sparks, nothing that made sense in my head. Only punches, sweat-drenched pillows and broken picks.

I’ve become…a zombie…someone who’s drifting too far away from what they really are; someone who knows deep down that feeling in the pit of their stomach is fright, because they’re wasting away. The Frank Iero I am, is not the one I was starting to become. I’m a little reckless, spontaneous and impulsive. I’m a little cautious, and I day dream way too much. I use to get lost in my own world while simply thinking, but now all it had become was worrying. But sitting next to Gerard right now, I feel like the person I was when I met him…Maybe that I never even stopped being myself all long, maybe I was just hiding it—but now I feel like I’m the lonely kid at the back of the class who’s finally found someone…a friend…and someone they’d been denying wanting more from. Someone whose hazel eyes are staring at me, waiting. I blush furiously and try smiling apologetically, but the beautiful eyes just fold into an adorable smile.
“D-do y-you u-u-usually g-get l-lost i-i-in y-y-your o-own w-world th-this m-much?” he asks, flicking away his cigarette bud. Warmth spreads through me as I watch the cinder dye out in the muddy snow, and I realize how long it’s been since someone has said that to me.
“Yeah…” I say, a little too happily. His eyebrows wiggle together in slight confusion, and I suddenly start grinning widely, familiarity wrapping me in her warm, cozy blanket. The uneasy feeling in my stomach has almost completely vanished, and, staring out into the snow I feel at home again. I’m no longer lost…I’m safe, and I feel like I’m returning to who I’ve always been…Only the Frank that I had been these past weeks still takes up a little part of me, and I don’t want to chase him out. As long as he doesn’t control my fucked-up brain too often, I’ll be fine sharing myself with him. I mean, in the end…he is the one who brought me back, and a little extra perspective won’t kill me any sooner than the mint flavored cigarette Gerard has just handed me.
“Thanks Gerard.” I say, both for the fag placed between my cold fingers, and for the fact that we actually talked…listened to each other, and comforted each other. For the fact that he accepted my apology, and modestly showed me a drawing he’d made of a young child gazing up at the sky with those markers I’d gotten him, shyly denying it when I told him it was the most beautiful drawing I’d seen in my whole fucking life.
“F-Frank?”
“yeah?” I ask, lifting my head up slightly, watching him take a drag.
“Y-you c-can c-call m-me G-Gee…b-by th-the w-way…i-i-if y-you’d like.” His cheeks redden but I know that it isn’t the cold weather as I smile up to my ears, grinning happily…as if I’m the luckiest person in the world.


hope you enjoyed it...I certainly enjoyed writing it! please R&R! The more reviews I get, the sooner the next chapter will be up!
xo,
angelica