Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Keep It Running

Chapter 8

by sixbucksandadrpepper 0 reviews

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Romance - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Published: 2012-02-09 - Updated: 2012-02-10 - 1093 words


Chapter 8

Emerson's POV

Something was up with Frank. Ineeded to talk to him and ask him what was wrong. Nearly three weeks had passed, and he'd been avoiding me the entire time, making one excuse or another. My time was running out to speak to him before they left. Tonight was the big party that Bob had been planning, and people were just beginning to arrive. Oh well, now it was time to have some fun.

Gerard's POV

a few hours later, approximately one a.m.

The whole room was spinning, the hundreds of sweaty, bathing suit clad bodies wove back and forth to the pounding dance music. Where was I? Oh yeah, Bob's beach house. Why was I feeling so sick? Where was Emerson? I looked around for her frantically. Oh shit, bad idea. I moaned and stumbled over to a vacant couch, one that didn't have people making out. My head was pounding, and Icouldn't exactly tell what was happening around me. I collapsed onto the couch and held my head in my hands. Too much alcohol, too much... ah, fuck it. I leaned over to the coffee table and grabbed another bottle of beer, pouring it down my throat. I laughed drunkenly at nothing in particular before falling back onto the couch.

Emerson's POV

"What the fuck is th-ˮ BAM. "Oh. A wall," I giggled hysterically after walking straight into a wall, sloshing the drink I had in my hand all over the place. I looked down at the now empty martini glass I held, confused. Where did my drink go? I could swear I was just sipping from it a second ago...

"Wooo," I hiccupped, stumbling out the back door of Bob's house onto the beach. Maybe I'd had a tad too much to drink. This being my first time having alcohol and all. But I was having a blast, so I couldn't be bothered to worry. Ilooked around the beach, where a massive bonfire was burning, for someone familiar. Most people were inside the house, so it wasn't hard to pick out Frank sitting in the sand, watching the fire. He was slumped forward, obviously drunk like the rest of us, occasionally taking a swig from the bottle he was holding. He was sitting alone, so I staggered over to him and crashed down into the sand beside him.

"Heyyy Fwankie," I slurred, leaning against his shoulder to catch my breath. "Where's Gee?"

He stiffened at the mention of Gerard."I dunno where he is. Probably passed out somewhere," he growled. I frowned dramatically. I'd forgotten how moody Frank had been as of late. Now I could finally talk to him. I poked his shoulder and leaned back so I could look him in the eye.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?You've been acting like you've got a fuckin' tree up your ass."

Frank just smiled at me, his eyes travelling from my face down my body and back up. I shifted uncomfortably as his eyes lingered on my chest. I suddenly wished I had a towel or something to cover up my bikini clad body. Frank opened his mouth to speak.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he purred, leaning closer to me. The light from the fire cast eerie shadows across his face, lighting up his eyes. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as his face came even closer to mine. His hand slid around the back of my neck, pulling my lips to his. My rational, sober mind was screaming at me to pull away, but my drunken body ignored it. I kissed him back, gliding my hands up his sides. Frank eagerly traced my lips with his tongue, causing them to part. I was lost, not even registering what I was doing. Kissing Frank wasn't anything like kissing Gerard. When Gerard kissed me, he kissed me like it was the last time he'd ever do so. He kissed me like his life depended on it. But Frank's kisses were... empty. They seemed to lack any emotion. Maybe it was because we were drunk, but something just didn't seem right. My mind realized this early on, but my body didn't respond until Frank had already pushed me back into the cold sand and was untying my bikini top. When my body finally caught up, I swatted at Frank's wandering hands and sat up sharply. He frowned, his hand still hooked to my bathing suit.

"What's wrong, darling?" he murmured, leaning back in to kiss me. Stop him, my mind screamed. This is wrong. He's not Gerard, and you're both drunk. This isn't what you want. You love Gerard.But then why did I kiss Frank so willingly just a few seconds ago? Ugh. My head was killing me. I put a hand on Frank's chest to stop his lips from finding mine.

"Frank, stop.I love Gerard, and just Gerard. We can't do this."

Frank sighed, dropping his hand from my body. He glared angrily at the ground, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "It's always Gerard," he muttered.


He looked up, pain filling his eyes."I said, it's always Gerard. Why, for once, can't I be the one you love? I've loved you for as long as I can remember, but you couldn't be bothered to return that."

I was shocked. Frank had just said he loved me? Had he meant it? I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. Frank was one of my best friends, and I didlove him dearly; just not in a romantic way. There was only one person I could love like that, and that person was Gerard. A simple drunken kiss couldn't change that.

Frank pulled me into his arms. "I mean it, you know," he whispered in my ear. "You're beautiful, charming, and God, just a great girl."

I sniffed sadly, feeling a tear slide down my cheek. I didn't want to hurt Frank. But I didn't love him. So Ipulled away from him. "Frankie, I'm sorry. You're a fantastic friend, but Icould never be more than that with you. It just wouldn't work. I'm in love with Gerard. And I always will be."

Frank stared at me for a moment before standing abruptly. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he said coldly. He turned and stalked off down the beach, his shoulders hunched angrily. Isuddenly felt the overwhelming need for sleep, so I lay down right there in the sand, curling into a ball and closing my eyes.

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