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Epilogue - New Beginnings
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Epilogue – New Beginnings
Mikey’s POV
What if they don’t like me?
What if they’re like the other kids at my old school?
What if I’m not good enough for them?
What if I come home all bloody and beaten despite the fact that my right arm is still in a bright red and Gerard-decorated cast?
“Hey, Mikes, look at me; it’s gonna be alright, bro. I promise.”
The abrupt halt of the car and Gerard’s warm voice coaxes me out of my thoughts, but not in the unpleasant way that his voice used to; this is more like he’s guiding me out of the dark rather than forcing me into blinding light.
He’s been a lot gentler with me since I… Since I tried to kill myself two months ago. I’ve been out of the hospital for just over a week now and things really are starting to look up; Gerard’s quit both of his jobs and now works in the record store with Frankie, thus meaning he’s a lot less stressed out and a lot more fun to be around; Gerard’s spending a lot more time with me, listening to me when I cry and waking me up if I have a nightmare with a sympathetic smile and warm hug; he’s a lot more happier, just as I am, because he knows who I am and how I got to be who I am, not to mention the fact that Frankie’s moved in with us.
Frankie. He’s my best friend, always making sure that I’m okay and always around to make me laugh or simply smile. It hurts, hurts like having a rusty knife twist around in my heart, every time I see him with Gerard but, deep down, I really am happy for them; they both deserve each other’s love after all I’ve put them through, after how selfish I’ve been.
No. We’ve been through this together, all three of us; I’m not selfish, just a little mixed up inside. And depressed.
That’s what the doctor said anyway; depressed and suffering from low self-esteem issues. The doctor said that just over a month ago now; Gerard and Frank have been working to help me get better, to not be frightened of everything anymore, to be happier, to ask for help when I’m down. And it’s been working; I’m nowhere near the person that I used to be all of those years ago before Gerard started drinking, but I’m not the piteous little wisp of a boy I was two months ago either.
I’m still the same old freak that I was, but now I’m not worthless; I’m worth something, no, I’m worth everything to Gee and Frankie.
My big brother and my best friend.
But that doesn’t stop me from panicking right now, from gripping the knees of my hazy black skinny jeans tight enough for my nails to imprint the skin underneath the fabric; from bighting my lip in anxious anticipation; from tears welling up in my lowered eyes.
It’s my first day at my new high school and I’m shitting myself. I feel kind of like a mouse about to walk into a cage of starved lions, like I’m about to die all over again.
No; Frank suggested this school especially because of it’s pioneering anti-bullying campaigns. It’s meant to be one of the friendliest schools in the state. He promised me that I won’t get hurt here; that I’m safe; that they’ll like me. And Gerard promised that if anyone does pick on me to tell him and he’ll sort it out. No, not sort ‘it’ out, sort ‘them’ out. Like a big brother is supposed to do.
“Ready?” Gerard asks softly, his hand squeezing my own just like every time I go to him for help; like I mean the world to him and the fact that I cry to him makes me mean even more.
Because I think it does; just like when he’s honest with me.
“You can do it, Mikes. There’s nothing to be scared of here.” Frank’s bubble-gum voice floats over from the back seat, soon joined by the man himself who leans over the top of my chair to rest a hand on my shoulder. A hand that belongs there like the moon belongs amongst the stars; it should be there and knowing that it is reinforces the certainty of Frank’s words.
I can do this. For Frankie. For Gerard. For me. For Mom and Dad.
“I’m ready. I can do this.”
I turn to smile at them, a smile that is half faked and half real; faked because of the fears that I just can’t shake from my soul and probably will always be burdened with, real because I like the way the hopeful words flow smoothly from my lips without any fragmentation at all. I don’t stutter with either of them anymore and I relish the proud glints in their eyes whenever I speak to them; pride that appears to have been amplified by the determination in my voice.
I still stutter with everyone else though. That’s if I can talk to anyone else at all. Through years of just not talking to anyone other than Gerard I never even realised how much of my voice and ability to converse with others I’d lost. But I’m regaining that now; Gerard and Frank have been helping me so that I can make some friends here.
But what if they see me for what I was two months ago? They’ll beat me up.
Then Gerard and Frank will sort it out. And be proud of me for trying. I want to make them proud, I really do. I know that I sound childish, but I want to do something for them after everything that they’ve had the patience to do for me and this seems to be the best thing I can do; become less dependent on them.
I can do it. Frankie said so. Gerard said so too earlier. And I know that my big brother wouldn’t lie to me.
“Want me to walk you in?”
I shake my head at Gerard’s friendly offer; I have to do this myself or it will only show them that all of their hard work has been for nothing. Which it hasn’t; between the two of them, they really have saved my life. Saved it by making believe that it’s a life worth saving.
So I shake my head certainly, fixing him and Frank with strong, steady smiles. I’m reassuring them now, reassuring them that they’re doing well with me and that they don’t have to worry anymore. Because I can do this. They said so.
I said so.
“You sure, Mikes? We rea-“
“I can do this. I need to do this.” I cut calmly across Frankie, grinning at how motherly he is, and nod to myself as though making it clear to all three of us that I really can do this. That I really can walk into a strange place full of strange people and not have some sort of breakdown. “I guess I better get going, huh?”
I reach down to the car floor for my rucksack, only then realising that my hands are shaking like my nervousness is causing my blood to quake in my veins, but get cut off by Gee’s hand grabbing my wrist firmly. I look up to see a pair of very proud, very watery eyes boring into my own, apprehensive ones.
“I love you, Mikes.”
“I love you too, Gee.” I sigh as I feel Frankie ruffle my hair from above, messing up my straightened flop of brown, and turn to grin back at his cheeky smirk. “I gotta go or else I’ll be late.” I scoop up my rucksack and open the door. “See you tonight.”
And just like that they’re gone, leaving me alone in the parking lot of a place that will either bless me with friends or join the band wagon and become my own personal Hell. It looks nice, all potted plants and set-out pathways, but you never know the truth of something before you experience it. But what if the kids are horrible to me? I know they will be; what reason do they have to be nice?
Hang on.
What reason do they have not to be nice?
I start to walk through the deserted parking lot, I really am running unfashionably late, and start to gaze at my new school. At my new Hell. At my new Heaven. All depending on the next few minutes of my life.
“Woah!”
I hear the shocked cry before I see the gravel of the ground propelling towards my face.
Way before I feel the strong arms catch me and right my slightly tilted posture.
Strong arms that linger a little longer than necessary; that make my heart flutter for reasons I don’t fully understand but fully enjoy; that are toned and tanned in a way that probably makes every girl here swoon. So, naturally, I look up to the face that owns the arms. No, not face; masterpiece.
He’s all floppy dark hair, blushing cheeks and awkward grin, his chestnut eyes purely apologetic.
Wait. He’s not mad that I’ve delayed him further? He’s not going to throw me to the ground that he just saved me from colliding with? Wait.
He’s blushing?
Great, now I am too.
“Holy shit, man, I’m so sorry; I didn’t see you there!” He sounds so genuinely sorry for such a simple mistake that I can’t help but smile at him; at this stranger who’s actually being nice to me.
Well, he hasn’t heard me speak yet.
And he’s not going to. I don’t want this beautiful boy to hate me. Hate me like everyone else is bound to.
But what if they don’t? Fuck that. What if he doesn’t?
“Hey, you alright? You kinda just, I dunno, spaced out a little on me there.”
His voice is like Frank’s in it’s friendly reassurance and like Gerard’s in it’s warm willing to make everything better; yet entirely unique compared to anything else I’ve ever heard.
Oh no. He wants an answer. I want to give him a verbal response, really I do, but I want him to be my friend and he won’t let that happen if he knows about what a freak I am. Do I mean that? Do I really want to be his friend? Yeah, I do. He seems friendly, seems to be a little like Frankie actually, but even better looking.
Wait. Better looking? Just what the fuck am I going on about?
He’s still waiting for a response. Unsure of what else I can do, I simply nod.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” I shrug, trying my hardest to tell myself that he wasn’t being nasty, and we both start walking towards the school, keeping in stride with one another. “That’s cool. I used to be real quiet, too.”
I can’t help but raise my eyebrows at that; he just seems so… adorably bubbly and hyper. I can’t imagine him ever being as pathetic as me. But at the same time I want to be able to have someone to empathise with me, someone who really does understand all that Gerard and Frank are trying to, because they’ve been where I am now.
Been there and survived to become one hell of a person.
“Don’t think that I’ve seen your face before, I wouldn’t forget it.” He smirks, offering me a sly wink that makes me blush like the school kid that I am in the presence of the stereotypical hot guy that he is.
Is he flirting with me? No. He can’t be. Why would he waste time on a freak like me?
“New here then?” I nod. “Awesome! I’ll show you around at break if you want?” Another nod, this time perhaps a little too eager. “So, what’s your name?” I stop and squirm a little under his gentle and relaxing gaze. I can’t just answer this with a gesture; I actually have to speak. Speak to him and, as history dictates, lose him. I sniffle a little at the thought and then look away when his eyes melt into concern; like he actually cares after only knowing me for all of ten minutes. “What’s wrong? Did I say someth-“
“Mi-ikey-ey Way-ay.”
I wince, ready to run home the second he raises his fist to me and splatters his Blink-182 t-shirt with my blood. Blink-182, I like them. Hey! Maybe, if he doesn’t hate me already, we really could be friends.
Ha.
As fucking if.
But there’s none of the judgemental hate, no daunting sneers and certainly no violent impacts. Just a softened smile and an outstretched hand.
“Absolute pleasure to meet you, Mikey Way. I’m Pete. Pete Wentz.”
I take his hand and shake it, complete blissful disbelief immersing my soul like the friendliness immersing his endless eyes. Eyes that are perfectly framed with black eyeliner; just like my own are behind my glasses.
I notice a huge, guitar-shaped bag hanging over his shoulder like it’s a perfectly normal thing to be carrying around but look away as I notice he’s caught my curious eyes staring at the huge black bag.
“That’s my bass. I’ll play for you some time. If you want?”
I nod excitedly; maybe I could play for him too!
“I-I pl-lay, to-o!”
“Wicked! We’ll have to jam sometime, yeah?”
And, just like that, just by being me, I’ve made a friend. A bass-playing, eyeliner-wearing, Blink-182-loving friend called Pete Wentz that looks more like a God than a guy.
A friend that likes me for me; not hates me for my stutter.
I think that this could be the start of something amazing.
The start of a new beginning for a better future.
A/N: And that, as they say, is that. Thank you soooooooooooooo much for reading this story; I know it isn’t the greatest thing in the world, but it’s really uplifting to know that people read it. So thank you! I hope that this epilogue rounded the story off okay, I just didn’t want it to end on a downer; I wanted it to end on a happy note and I hope that this worked out alright. Thank you so much for reading and please review so that I know how to improve for later stories! Thank you! :)
Mikey’s POV
What if they don’t like me?
What if they’re like the other kids at my old school?
What if I’m not good enough for them?
What if I come home all bloody and beaten despite the fact that my right arm is still in a bright red and Gerard-decorated cast?
“Hey, Mikes, look at me; it’s gonna be alright, bro. I promise.”
The abrupt halt of the car and Gerard’s warm voice coaxes me out of my thoughts, but not in the unpleasant way that his voice used to; this is more like he’s guiding me out of the dark rather than forcing me into blinding light.
He’s been a lot gentler with me since I… Since I tried to kill myself two months ago. I’ve been out of the hospital for just over a week now and things really are starting to look up; Gerard’s quit both of his jobs and now works in the record store with Frankie, thus meaning he’s a lot less stressed out and a lot more fun to be around; Gerard’s spending a lot more time with me, listening to me when I cry and waking me up if I have a nightmare with a sympathetic smile and warm hug; he’s a lot more happier, just as I am, because he knows who I am and how I got to be who I am, not to mention the fact that Frankie’s moved in with us.
Frankie. He’s my best friend, always making sure that I’m okay and always around to make me laugh or simply smile. It hurts, hurts like having a rusty knife twist around in my heart, every time I see him with Gerard but, deep down, I really am happy for them; they both deserve each other’s love after all I’ve put them through, after how selfish I’ve been.
No. We’ve been through this together, all three of us; I’m not selfish, just a little mixed up inside. And depressed.
That’s what the doctor said anyway; depressed and suffering from low self-esteem issues. The doctor said that just over a month ago now; Gerard and Frank have been working to help me get better, to not be frightened of everything anymore, to be happier, to ask for help when I’m down. And it’s been working; I’m nowhere near the person that I used to be all of those years ago before Gerard started drinking, but I’m not the piteous little wisp of a boy I was two months ago either.
I’m still the same old freak that I was, but now I’m not worthless; I’m worth something, no, I’m worth everything to Gee and Frankie.
My big brother and my best friend.
But that doesn’t stop me from panicking right now, from gripping the knees of my hazy black skinny jeans tight enough for my nails to imprint the skin underneath the fabric; from bighting my lip in anxious anticipation; from tears welling up in my lowered eyes.
It’s my first day at my new high school and I’m shitting myself. I feel kind of like a mouse about to walk into a cage of starved lions, like I’m about to die all over again.
No; Frank suggested this school especially because of it’s pioneering anti-bullying campaigns. It’s meant to be one of the friendliest schools in the state. He promised me that I won’t get hurt here; that I’m safe; that they’ll like me. And Gerard promised that if anyone does pick on me to tell him and he’ll sort it out. No, not sort ‘it’ out, sort ‘them’ out. Like a big brother is supposed to do.
“Ready?” Gerard asks softly, his hand squeezing my own just like every time I go to him for help; like I mean the world to him and the fact that I cry to him makes me mean even more.
Because I think it does; just like when he’s honest with me.
“You can do it, Mikes. There’s nothing to be scared of here.” Frank’s bubble-gum voice floats over from the back seat, soon joined by the man himself who leans over the top of my chair to rest a hand on my shoulder. A hand that belongs there like the moon belongs amongst the stars; it should be there and knowing that it is reinforces the certainty of Frank’s words.
I can do this. For Frankie. For Gerard. For me. For Mom and Dad.
“I’m ready. I can do this.”
I turn to smile at them, a smile that is half faked and half real; faked because of the fears that I just can’t shake from my soul and probably will always be burdened with, real because I like the way the hopeful words flow smoothly from my lips without any fragmentation at all. I don’t stutter with either of them anymore and I relish the proud glints in their eyes whenever I speak to them; pride that appears to have been amplified by the determination in my voice.
I still stutter with everyone else though. That’s if I can talk to anyone else at all. Through years of just not talking to anyone other than Gerard I never even realised how much of my voice and ability to converse with others I’d lost. But I’m regaining that now; Gerard and Frank have been helping me so that I can make some friends here.
But what if they see me for what I was two months ago? They’ll beat me up.
Then Gerard and Frank will sort it out. And be proud of me for trying. I want to make them proud, I really do. I know that I sound childish, but I want to do something for them after everything that they’ve had the patience to do for me and this seems to be the best thing I can do; become less dependent on them.
I can do it. Frankie said so. Gerard said so too earlier. And I know that my big brother wouldn’t lie to me.
“Want me to walk you in?”
I shake my head at Gerard’s friendly offer; I have to do this myself or it will only show them that all of their hard work has been for nothing. Which it hasn’t; between the two of them, they really have saved my life. Saved it by making believe that it’s a life worth saving.
So I shake my head certainly, fixing him and Frank with strong, steady smiles. I’m reassuring them now, reassuring them that they’re doing well with me and that they don’t have to worry anymore. Because I can do this. They said so.
I said so.
“You sure, Mikes? We rea-“
“I can do this. I need to do this.” I cut calmly across Frankie, grinning at how motherly he is, and nod to myself as though making it clear to all three of us that I really can do this. That I really can walk into a strange place full of strange people and not have some sort of breakdown. “I guess I better get going, huh?”
I reach down to the car floor for my rucksack, only then realising that my hands are shaking like my nervousness is causing my blood to quake in my veins, but get cut off by Gee’s hand grabbing my wrist firmly. I look up to see a pair of very proud, very watery eyes boring into my own, apprehensive ones.
“I love you, Mikes.”
“I love you too, Gee.” I sigh as I feel Frankie ruffle my hair from above, messing up my straightened flop of brown, and turn to grin back at his cheeky smirk. “I gotta go or else I’ll be late.” I scoop up my rucksack and open the door. “See you tonight.”
And just like that they’re gone, leaving me alone in the parking lot of a place that will either bless me with friends or join the band wagon and become my own personal Hell. It looks nice, all potted plants and set-out pathways, but you never know the truth of something before you experience it. But what if the kids are horrible to me? I know they will be; what reason do they have to be nice?
Hang on.
What reason do they have not to be nice?
I start to walk through the deserted parking lot, I really am running unfashionably late, and start to gaze at my new school. At my new Hell. At my new Heaven. All depending on the next few minutes of my life.
“Woah!”
I hear the shocked cry before I see the gravel of the ground propelling towards my face.
Way before I feel the strong arms catch me and right my slightly tilted posture.
Strong arms that linger a little longer than necessary; that make my heart flutter for reasons I don’t fully understand but fully enjoy; that are toned and tanned in a way that probably makes every girl here swoon. So, naturally, I look up to the face that owns the arms. No, not face; masterpiece.
He’s all floppy dark hair, blushing cheeks and awkward grin, his chestnut eyes purely apologetic.
Wait. He’s not mad that I’ve delayed him further? He’s not going to throw me to the ground that he just saved me from colliding with? Wait.
He’s blushing?
Great, now I am too.
“Holy shit, man, I’m so sorry; I didn’t see you there!” He sounds so genuinely sorry for such a simple mistake that I can’t help but smile at him; at this stranger who’s actually being nice to me.
Well, he hasn’t heard me speak yet.
And he’s not going to. I don’t want this beautiful boy to hate me. Hate me like everyone else is bound to.
But what if they don’t? Fuck that. What if he doesn’t?
“Hey, you alright? You kinda just, I dunno, spaced out a little on me there.”
His voice is like Frank’s in it’s friendly reassurance and like Gerard’s in it’s warm willing to make everything better; yet entirely unique compared to anything else I’ve ever heard.
Oh no. He wants an answer. I want to give him a verbal response, really I do, but I want him to be my friend and he won’t let that happen if he knows about what a freak I am. Do I mean that? Do I really want to be his friend? Yeah, I do. He seems friendly, seems to be a little like Frankie actually, but even better looking.
Wait. Better looking? Just what the fuck am I going on about?
He’s still waiting for a response. Unsure of what else I can do, I simply nod.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” I shrug, trying my hardest to tell myself that he wasn’t being nasty, and we both start walking towards the school, keeping in stride with one another. “That’s cool. I used to be real quiet, too.”
I can’t help but raise my eyebrows at that; he just seems so… adorably bubbly and hyper. I can’t imagine him ever being as pathetic as me. But at the same time I want to be able to have someone to empathise with me, someone who really does understand all that Gerard and Frank are trying to, because they’ve been where I am now.
Been there and survived to become one hell of a person.
“Don’t think that I’ve seen your face before, I wouldn’t forget it.” He smirks, offering me a sly wink that makes me blush like the school kid that I am in the presence of the stereotypical hot guy that he is.
Is he flirting with me? No. He can’t be. Why would he waste time on a freak like me?
“New here then?” I nod. “Awesome! I’ll show you around at break if you want?” Another nod, this time perhaps a little too eager. “So, what’s your name?” I stop and squirm a little under his gentle and relaxing gaze. I can’t just answer this with a gesture; I actually have to speak. Speak to him and, as history dictates, lose him. I sniffle a little at the thought and then look away when his eyes melt into concern; like he actually cares after only knowing me for all of ten minutes. “What’s wrong? Did I say someth-“
“Mi-ikey-ey Way-ay.”
I wince, ready to run home the second he raises his fist to me and splatters his Blink-182 t-shirt with my blood. Blink-182, I like them. Hey! Maybe, if he doesn’t hate me already, we really could be friends.
Ha.
As fucking if.
But there’s none of the judgemental hate, no daunting sneers and certainly no violent impacts. Just a softened smile and an outstretched hand.
“Absolute pleasure to meet you, Mikey Way. I’m Pete. Pete Wentz.”
I take his hand and shake it, complete blissful disbelief immersing my soul like the friendliness immersing his endless eyes. Eyes that are perfectly framed with black eyeliner; just like my own are behind my glasses.
I notice a huge, guitar-shaped bag hanging over his shoulder like it’s a perfectly normal thing to be carrying around but look away as I notice he’s caught my curious eyes staring at the huge black bag.
“That’s my bass. I’ll play for you some time. If you want?”
I nod excitedly; maybe I could play for him too!
“I-I pl-lay, to-o!”
“Wicked! We’ll have to jam sometime, yeah?”
And, just like that, just by being me, I’ve made a friend. A bass-playing, eyeliner-wearing, Blink-182-loving friend called Pete Wentz that looks more like a God than a guy.
A friend that likes me for me; not hates me for my stutter.
I think that this could be the start of something amazing.
The start of a new beginning for a better future.
A/N: And that, as they say, is that. Thank you soooooooooooooo much for reading this story; I know it isn’t the greatest thing in the world, but it’s really uplifting to know that people read it. So thank you! I hope that this epilogue rounded the story off okay, I just didn’t want it to end on a downer; I wanted it to end on a happy note and I hope that this worked out alright. Thank you so much for reading and please review so that I know how to improve for later stories! Thank you! :)
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