Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Hero
Hey there! I'm not going to promise uploading this quick every chapter, but I couldn't sleep last night so I thought I'd work on this. Roommate Gerard was the outright choice, so that's what I've written. Massive thank you to Hell_Yeah_Guns, snake56tongue, ElectricSpark and Heymimusic for reveiwing (and telling me to go for roommate) as well as thanks to whoever rated this for me. Cookies/Coffee/Unicorns in the virtual post to you now :D
(Also, I hate stories where each chapter is less than a thousand words, so all the chapters will be over 1500 words. Excluding A/N's.)
ENJOY :D
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Frank woke up the next morning with a dirty taste in his mouth. Kinda served him right for not brushing his teeth yesterday evening. He slowly sat up, and looked to his bedside table hoping to see a clock like at home but it seems that, for all the school’s antique furniture, they managed to forget something simple like an alarm clock. Frank sighed and then stretched, before pulling off what feels like forty covers and swinging his feet onto the wooden floor. He glances at the other bed in the room, but it’s been made – or maybe the guy never came back here last night. Even if he hadn’t, he was here this morning – the quiet hiss of the shower told Frank that much, as well the fact his case had been moved from where Frank had first seen it. The noise of the shower stops, and Frank can hear someone moving around in the small en-suite. There’s a moment of complete silence, and then his roommate steps out of the en-suite.
A lightly built teenager stands in the doorway, towel slung round his waist, longish black hair wet and plastered to his neck and face. His bright green eyes don’t even glance at Frank as he moves towards his bed. And shit. Frank’s breathing hitches and he knows he has to get in the en-suite right the fuck now. He doesn’t even know his roommates name and he’s already half hard. Although, he thinks as he locks the door to the en-suite, that fact he walked out of the shower in nothing but a freaking towel probably had something to do with it. Frank knows he can’t jerk off here; the last thing he needs is the guy’s first impression of him to be some over sexed freak, and so tries to think of turn offs. As he turns the shower on, he remembers that today is Monday – and whilst that’s pretty much a reason to be miserable – it also means his lessons here start today. Well, Frank thinks glancing down, at least that’s one problem solved. Sadly, the rest of them were just about to start.
He quickly scrubs all over his lightly toned (living in Jersey and being as small as he was meant he had to learn some fighting skills) and highly inked body and tries to avoid any thoughts of the boy in the next room. After stepping out the shower, tying a towel round his waist and figuring he was good not to shave today, he walked back into his room. He was proud of himself to not even look at the gorgeous boy whilst he pulled the pair of scruffy skinnies he’d dumped on the floor on, found a faded Black Flag t-shirt and tied his black converse on. He flops onto his bed, and stares at the blank off white ceiling for a second whilst contemplating how much his life sucked right now. He hears the guy on the bed next to him sigh and quickly Frank turns to face him.
“Hey” he says quietly. The boy in his – their – room says nothing and gives him a scornful look.
“I’m Frank” he tries again, only earning a scoff from the other bed. Well. What a surprise. The guy was rich, stuck up and totally hot. What a fucking combination. The guy carried on ignoring him, and that was one thing Frank couldn’t stand.
“Whoever taught you fucking manners failed, didn’t they?” he snapped.
“Whomever taught you to speak only taught you uncouth language, clearly.” The guy drawled. Frank nearly gasped and his eyes bugged slightly. His roommate had a Jersey accent. It really wasn’t helping Frank hate his guts.
“But then, I suppose” he carried on “Particularly destitute persons like yourself are most likely highly accustomed to language such as that. And if you really insist on knowing, my name is Gerard. Gerard Way.”
Gerard… it suited him. He was obviously rich, and whilst the Jersey drawl flattened some his vowels, his language was very advanced and had a patronizing tone. Despite the fact he was rich, good with words and patronizing – like the rest of the boys he would be – there was something… different about him, but Frank couldn’t quite figure out what that was.
The sound of a gong being hit brings Frank out of his thoughts, and by the time he looks up, the door to his and Gerard’s dorm is swinging shut, the black haired boy just disappearing through it. Frank sighs and also leaves the room all the while hoping like hell that the gong means breakfast. After making his way through the common room, again like last night sticking to the edges in order to avoid anyone out to get him, he simply follows the smell of bacon until he reached the canteen. Or he supposes, the ‘dining hall’ as all the snobby teenagers here would call it. He pushes open the grand wooden doors to the Room Where They Eat – he decides that’s what he is going to call this room – and slowly shuffles in. A quick scan of the room tells him two things: one, he is never going to sit with anyone and two, the breakfast here is one of those buffets where you choose your own food. Frank picks a wooden tray (because the plastic ones he used to from his old school canteen would be too tacky for this place) and stands in line behind a few girls. After a couple of minutes, he’s finally in front of the food and he quickly – and carefully – uses his powers to pick up some piping hot oatmeal that looked too hot to touch, and grab an orange juice that was too far back in the cooler for him to reach. He was so busy of focusing his telekinesis; he didn’t notice the malicious thoughts behind him until the oatmeal – and it was fucking hot – was dumped all over his head.
“Hey, poor boy, isn’t that how you’re fed everyday?” The jock jeered. “Like an animal?”
Frank felt the anger surge through him, and suddenly his brain is filled with incessant babbling. He recognizes some of the voices tearing through his head, and realizes his telepathy has kicked in. He begins to sift through the voices, hoping to pin point the bully’s. A few of the voices jump out at him, mainly because he’s heard them before; the girls who openly scorned him in the entrance hall, some of the boys he’d followed to the dorms yesterday, Gerard’s… He resists the urge to listen in to his roommate’s thoughts and caries on searching for the asshole that dumped oatmeal on his head. Aha. Tom Barker – Invisibility. Fucking some cheerleader Frank didn’t recognize. Cheating with some other bitch. Now that he could use later… He smirked and then left the dining hall as quickly as he’d entered it, the noise dying away and the rush of voices that filed his head slowly faded. He ran through the common room and up into his dorm, jumping in the shower and washing that gunk of out his hair, before ripping out a pair of faded grey skinnies and his favourite Misfit’s t-shirt and pulling them one, quickly adding a black hoodie and studded belt.
He knew that all the students had to return to their dorms to grab their stuff for classes after breakfast, so he knew he wasn’t going to be late for class at least. As he had some time, he decided he was going to relax in his room; he knew it’s be the last chance for god knows how long to be alone – completely alone – without anyone judging him on his social class, or what he wore, or his sexual orientation. Just as he put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes, Gerard walked into the room. Well, fuck. There went his peace. Gerard just smirked at Frank, his green eyes glimmering with something can’t quite place – but he knows he’s not going to like it. He strains to unlock his telepathy; to try and reach into Gerard’s head to know why he’s looking at Frank like that, but his stupid power only seems to work when he’s enraged or when someone’s thoughts had strong emotion behind them: anger, lust, or love the most noticeable; he had to be close by as well. The telekinesis seemed to work at will, although he had to completely concentrate when moving heavier objects. It was usually an unconscious action though. Thinking about his powers made him wonder about Gerard’s. Frank turned to look at the stunning boy on the bed next to his. He bit his lip wondering how to broach the subject; Gerard had made it pretty clear he wanted literally nothing to do with Frank.
A pulse of emotion drove through his head rapidly – too quick for him to place what emotion it was, but whatever it was, it had to be strong for him to pick it up. He shook his head and carried on wondering what power Gerard had, and he barely noticed the gong, pulsing noise, indicating they had five minutes to gather their belongings and head to their first class. Gerard’s smirk had vanished, but that was the last detail Frank noticed about him before the other boy repeated this morning’s actions and vanished through the door way. Frank sighed and after glancing at his timetable, grabbed his bag, checked what he’s packed before the flight yester day was still in there – an assortment of pens and other school like shit – before walked out the door just as Gerard had only moments ago.
As Frank walked, following the other boy but keeping a fair distance behind him, he looked properly at his timetable. Despite this being a school for super powered freaks, they still had to put up with the annoying regular classes such as PE and Maths. The list of things that were annoying him about this school was getting longer by the minute. His first lesson, by the looks of it, was Chemistry. This had never been one of his favourite subjects, but it was a little better than Maths or fucking PE. A final look at the timetable – God knew he had to start paying more attention to things – told him he would be in Block B, Room 018. Frank had no idea what ‘Block’ he was in now, but carried on walking until he was outside the dorm building. Once outside, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on the better things in his life; his guitar, his friends back home… They were the only two things he could think of and after his morning with a moody, irritating roommate and having fucking oatmeal dumped on this head meant he wasn’t in the greatest mood and he felt the unmistakable tang of anger taint his vision. Off in the distance, another gong sounds and he knows he going to be late.
Still feeling angry about how shitty his morning has been, he notices that most of the voices that would normally echo and yell in his head, voicing thoughts to him, have vanished or fading away. Obviously most of the other student shave vanished to their lessons and are too far away for him to hear. Except for one – Gerard. What was he doing around here? Frank hears a snippet of ‘Shit – this isn’t occurring to me! I’m not…’ the voice fades away as Frank’s anger gives way to curiosity, and once again his head is silent and empty apart form his own thoughts. Suddenly a physical voice tears through the quiet of the brick paved and tree adorned courtyard.
“WAY! IERO! Would you both care to mention why you are still out here, and not in lessons?” an adult that Frank assumes to be a teacher yells at them. Out of the corner of his eye, Frank sees Gerard slide out from behind a tall, wide trunked oak tree and face the teacher, with a look of complete venom in his eyes.
“The reasons concerning my current whereabouts and why am I not currently gracing my Chemistry class with my presence, mademoiselle, is of no concern of yours. Personally, I do not think the most prudent way to begin a week of the incompetent teaching you call an education is with Chemistry, which is a bothersome subject and requires a serious level of concentration that would be easier unlocked later in the week, and not first period on a Monday morning. Is that reason enough, mademoiselle?” Gerard snarls out with complete self-assurance but still hardly pausing to take a breath between words – hell, between sentences. And WOAH, Gerard has a nasty temper, and Frank fights to keep his mind clean because the assumed teacher is about to turn on him, in about four second, three seconds, two, one…
“And what about you Iero?” the teacher barks. Frank quietly curses himself for his lack of confidence and being intimidated by everyone here. He knows though, he’s going to have to say something to avoid getting in worse trouble.
“Urm… Well… I-I wasn’t s-sure where to go, and I w-was just… late…” Frank catches Gerard smirking at the edge of his sightline and has a huge urge to punch to smug boy in the face. It’s really not going to help his current situation though, and decides against it. It’s still tempting though, and Gerard’s cruel little smirk is really pissing him off…
“Iero! Are you even listening to me?” the teacher demands, breaking through Frank’s fuzz of anger.
“Not really, Miss, no” Frank feels his rebel persona settle down around his shoulders. To hell with being intimidated by these fucking stuck up assholes. He wasn’t going to fit in here anyway; he might as well be himself.
“And you’re pronouncing my name wrong. Now, if you’re finished, I’d actually like to get to my lesson.” Frank stamps off to find Block B, and hopefully get through the day without slamming something heavy on someone’s head.
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Well, Gerard and Frank's relationship is off to a good start, huh? Can anyone guess what 'emotion' shot through Frank's head or whose emotion it was? Or what Gerard was thinking about?
It took me about 30 minutes to write Gerard's rant there cause I was trying to make him sound really posh.
Please review and let me know what you thought about it! :D (Or rate for those lazy/shy poeple who never know what to say in reveiws) ^^
I won't bother carrying on if no-one's reading :)
(Also, I hate stories where each chapter is less than a thousand words, so all the chapters will be over 1500 words. Excluding A/N's.)
ENJOY :D
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Frank woke up the next morning with a dirty taste in his mouth. Kinda served him right for not brushing his teeth yesterday evening. He slowly sat up, and looked to his bedside table hoping to see a clock like at home but it seems that, for all the school’s antique furniture, they managed to forget something simple like an alarm clock. Frank sighed and then stretched, before pulling off what feels like forty covers and swinging his feet onto the wooden floor. He glances at the other bed in the room, but it’s been made – or maybe the guy never came back here last night. Even if he hadn’t, he was here this morning – the quiet hiss of the shower told Frank that much, as well the fact his case had been moved from where Frank had first seen it. The noise of the shower stops, and Frank can hear someone moving around in the small en-suite. There’s a moment of complete silence, and then his roommate steps out of the en-suite.
A lightly built teenager stands in the doorway, towel slung round his waist, longish black hair wet and plastered to his neck and face. His bright green eyes don’t even glance at Frank as he moves towards his bed. And shit. Frank’s breathing hitches and he knows he has to get in the en-suite right the fuck now. He doesn’t even know his roommates name and he’s already half hard. Although, he thinks as he locks the door to the en-suite, that fact he walked out of the shower in nothing but a freaking towel probably had something to do with it. Frank knows he can’t jerk off here; the last thing he needs is the guy’s first impression of him to be some over sexed freak, and so tries to think of turn offs. As he turns the shower on, he remembers that today is Monday – and whilst that’s pretty much a reason to be miserable – it also means his lessons here start today. Well, Frank thinks glancing down, at least that’s one problem solved. Sadly, the rest of them were just about to start.
He quickly scrubs all over his lightly toned (living in Jersey and being as small as he was meant he had to learn some fighting skills) and highly inked body and tries to avoid any thoughts of the boy in the next room. After stepping out the shower, tying a towel round his waist and figuring he was good not to shave today, he walked back into his room. He was proud of himself to not even look at the gorgeous boy whilst he pulled the pair of scruffy skinnies he’d dumped on the floor on, found a faded Black Flag t-shirt and tied his black converse on. He flops onto his bed, and stares at the blank off white ceiling for a second whilst contemplating how much his life sucked right now. He hears the guy on the bed next to him sigh and quickly Frank turns to face him.
“Hey” he says quietly. The boy in his – their – room says nothing and gives him a scornful look.
“I’m Frank” he tries again, only earning a scoff from the other bed. Well. What a surprise. The guy was rich, stuck up and totally hot. What a fucking combination. The guy carried on ignoring him, and that was one thing Frank couldn’t stand.
“Whoever taught you fucking manners failed, didn’t they?” he snapped.
“Whomever taught you to speak only taught you uncouth language, clearly.” The guy drawled. Frank nearly gasped and his eyes bugged slightly. His roommate had a Jersey accent. It really wasn’t helping Frank hate his guts.
“But then, I suppose” he carried on “Particularly destitute persons like yourself are most likely highly accustomed to language such as that. And if you really insist on knowing, my name is Gerard. Gerard Way.”
Gerard… it suited him. He was obviously rich, and whilst the Jersey drawl flattened some his vowels, his language was very advanced and had a patronizing tone. Despite the fact he was rich, good with words and patronizing – like the rest of the boys he would be – there was something… different about him, but Frank couldn’t quite figure out what that was.
The sound of a gong being hit brings Frank out of his thoughts, and by the time he looks up, the door to his and Gerard’s dorm is swinging shut, the black haired boy just disappearing through it. Frank sighs and also leaves the room all the while hoping like hell that the gong means breakfast. After making his way through the common room, again like last night sticking to the edges in order to avoid anyone out to get him, he simply follows the smell of bacon until he reached the canteen. Or he supposes, the ‘dining hall’ as all the snobby teenagers here would call it. He pushes open the grand wooden doors to the Room Where They Eat – he decides that’s what he is going to call this room – and slowly shuffles in. A quick scan of the room tells him two things: one, he is never going to sit with anyone and two, the breakfast here is one of those buffets where you choose your own food. Frank picks a wooden tray (because the plastic ones he used to from his old school canteen would be too tacky for this place) and stands in line behind a few girls. After a couple of minutes, he’s finally in front of the food and he quickly – and carefully – uses his powers to pick up some piping hot oatmeal that looked too hot to touch, and grab an orange juice that was too far back in the cooler for him to reach. He was so busy of focusing his telekinesis; he didn’t notice the malicious thoughts behind him until the oatmeal – and it was fucking hot – was dumped all over his head.
“Hey, poor boy, isn’t that how you’re fed everyday?” The jock jeered. “Like an animal?”
Frank felt the anger surge through him, and suddenly his brain is filled with incessant babbling. He recognizes some of the voices tearing through his head, and realizes his telepathy has kicked in. He begins to sift through the voices, hoping to pin point the bully’s. A few of the voices jump out at him, mainly because he’s heard them before; the girls who openly scorned him in the entrance hall, some of the boys he’d followed to the dorms yesterday, Gerard’s… He resists the urge to listen in to his roommate’s thoughts and caries on searching for the asshole that dumped oatmeal on his head. Aha. Tom Barker – Invisibility. Fucking some cheerleader Frank didn’t recognize. Cheating with some other bitch. Now that he could use later… He smirked and then left the dining hall as quickly as he’d entered it, the noise dying away and the rush of voices that filed his head slowly faded. He ran through the common room and up into his dorm, jumping in the shower and washing that gunk of out his hair, before ripping out a pair of faded grey skinnies and his favourite Misfit’s t-shirt and pulling them one, quickly adding a black hoodie and studded belt.
He knew that all the students had to return to their dorms to grab their stuff for classes after breakfast, so he knew he wasn’t going to be late for class at least. As he had some time, he decided he was going to relax in his room; he knew it’s be the last chance for god knows how long to be alone – completely alone – without anyone judging him on his social class, or what he wore, or his sexual orientation. Just as he put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes, Gerard walked into the room. Well, fuck. There went his peace. Gerard just smirked at Frank, his green eyes glimmering with something can’t quite place – but he knows he’s not going to like it. He strains to unlock his telepathy; to try and reach into Gerard’s head to know why he’s looking at Frank like that, but his stupid power only seems to work when he’s enraged or when someone’s thoughts had strong emotion behind them: anger, lust, or love the most noticeable; he had to be close by as well. The telekinesis seemed to work at will, although he had to completely concentrate when moving heavier objects. It was usually an unconscious action though. Thinking about his powers made him wonder about Gerard’s. Frank turned to look at the stunning boy on the bed next to his. He bit his lip wondering how to broach the subject; Gerard had made it pretty clear he wanted literally nothing to do with Frank.
A pulse of emotion drove through his head rapidly – too quick for him to place what emotion it was, but whatever it was, it had to be strong for him to pick it up. He shook his head and carried on wondering what power Gerard had, and he barely noticed the gong, pulsing noise, indicating they had five minutes to gather their belongings and head to their first class. Gerard’s smirk had vanished, but that was the last detail Frank noticed about him before the other boy repeated this morning’s actions and vanished through the door way. Frank sighed and after glancing at his timetable, grabbed his bag, checked what he’s packed before the flight yester day was still in there – an assortment of pens and other school like shit – before walked out the door just as Gerard had only moments ago.
As Frank walked, following the other boy but keeping a fair distance behind him, he looked properly at his timetable. Despite this being a school for super powered freaks, they still had to put up with the annoying regular classes such as PE and Maths. The list of things that were annoying him about this school was getting longer by the minute. His first lesson, by the looks of it, was Chemistry. This had never been one of his favourite subjects, but it was a little better than Maths or fucking PE. A final look at the timetable – God knew he had to start paying more attention to things – told him he would be in Block B, Room 018. Frank had no idea what ‘Block’ he was in now, but carried on walking until he was outside the dorm building. Once outside, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on the better things in his life; his guitar, his friends back home… They were the only two things he could think of and after his morning with a moody, irritating roommate and having fucking oatmeal dumped on this head meant he wasn’t in the greatest mood and he felt the unmistakable tang of anger taint his vision. Off in the distance, another gong sounds and he knows he going to be late.
Still feeling angry about how shitty his morning has been, he notices that most of the voices that would normally echo and yell in his head, voicing thoughts to him, have vanished or fading away. Obviously most of the other student shave vanished to their lessons and are too far away for him to hear. Except for one – Gerard. What was he doing around here? Frank hears a snippet of ‘Shit – this isn’t occurring to me! I’m not…’ the voice fades away as Frank’s anger gives way to curiosity, and once again his head is silent and empty apart form his own thoughts. Suddenly a physical voice tears through the quiet of the brick paved and tree adorned courtyard.
“WAY! IERO! Would you both care to mention why you are still out here, and not in lessons?” an adult that Frank assumes to be a teacher yells at them. Out of the corner of his eye, Frank sees Gerard slide out from behind a tall, wide trunked oak tree and face the teacher, with a look of complete venom in his eyes.
“The reasons concerning my current whereabouts and why am I not currently gracing my Chemistry class with my presence, mademoiselle, is of no concern of yours. Personally, I do not think the most prudent way to begin a week of the incompetent teaching you call an education is with Chemistry, which is a bothersome subject and requires a serious level of concentration that would be easier unlocked later in the week, and not first period on a Monday morning. Is that reason enough, mademoiselle?” Gerard snarls out with complete self-assurance but still hardly pausing to take a breath between words – hell, between sentences. And WOAH, Gerard has a nasty temper, and Frank fights to keep his mind clean because the assumed teacher is about to turn on him, in about four second, three seconds, two, one…
“And what about you Iero?” the teacher barks. Frank quietly curses himself for his lack of confidence and being intimidated by everyone here. He knows though, he’s going to have to say something to avoid getting in worse trouble.
“Urm… Well… I-I wasn’t s-sure where to go, and I w-was just… late…” Frank catches Gerard smirking at the edge of his sightline and has a huge urge to punch to smug boy in the face. It’s really not going to help his current situation though, and decides against it. It’s still tempting though, and Gerard’s cruel little smirk is really pissing him off…
“Iero! Are you even listening to me?” the teacher demands, breaking through Frank’s fuzz of anger.
“Not really, Miss, no” Frank feels his rebel persona settle down around his shoulders. To hell with being intimidated by these fucking stuck up assholes. He wasn’t going to fit in here anyway; he might as well be himself.
“And you’re pronouncing my name wrong. Now, if you’re finished, I’d actually like to get to my lesson.” Frank stamps off to find Block B, and hopefully get through the day without slamming something heavy on someone’s head.
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Well, Gerard and Frank's relationship is off to a good start, huh? Can anyone guess what 'emotion' shot through Frank's head or whose emotion it was? Or what Gerard was thinking about?
It took me about 30 minutes to write Gerard's rant there cause I was trying to make him sound really posh.
Please review and let me know what you thought about it! :D (Or rate for those lazy/shy poeple who never know what to say in reveiws) ^^
I won't bother carrying on if no-one's reading :)
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