Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Hero
This chapter is the big one. To GelachGirl, I hope you enjoy it and to mychemicalbitchbot, I'm kinda hoping it cheers you up a bit :3
I won't bother you with this, I'll go write a nice big note at the end for no-one to read.
ENJOY :)
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The first thing Frank registered when he began to stir from sleep was the fact he was aching all over; he was pretty sure his throat and shoulder blades were bruised after Gerard shoved him into that wall and hauled him up by his throat, and his ass and hips were also pretty damn sore, but Frank didn’t mind that at all – in fact, he’d willingly take the trade of a sore ass and hipbones the next morning for phenomenal sex any day.
He shifted over slightly, unable to remember quite how he got under the covers of the bed – he and Gerard had fucked on top of the covers yesterday, and then they were making out, and then… Frank couldn’t remember anymore after that.
He felt movement behind him, and turned over properly to face Gerard, who was still half asleep and smiled softly at him, before gently kissing the green-eyed boy and tracing a hand down his porcelain cheek. He loved the blush that appeared wherever his hand brushed.
Gerard smiled sleepily at him, and the sight was so adorable to Frank that he couldn’t restrain himself. He snaked his tattooed arms around Gerard’s waist and kissed him properly, slow and sensual. Gerard moaned into his mouth quietly, then pulled back and slid his pale long fingers – the ones that had been in him yesterday; Frank shivered at the memory – over the bruises on Frank’s throat carefully.
“I really did that?” Gerard murmurs quietly, still sounding mildly asleep. Suddenly, he jolted upright, eyes bugging slightly, and spun around to face Frank, who was still laying in the bed.
“WE actually did that? We slept together?” Gerard sounds frantic, almost as if he wants Frank to deny it, to tell Gerard that it was an insane dream or a crazy fantasy; Frank can’t bring himself to do that though – it would be lying about the existence of one of the best nights of his life. And he really couldn’t do that to his still delicate heart.
“Yes Gerard, we did that.” Frank’s words are slow, cautious, and he’s searching Gerard’s eyes for whatever changed so suddenly, and a thought occurs to him – what if Gerard had some rich girlfriend waiting for him somewhere, and he’d cheated? Gerard looks so stressed, hands running through his hair agitatedly and his gorgeous eyes whirling back and forth in their sockets lined with the thick black lashes.
“No, no, no, NO. This can’t be happening, not to me! Not after – Shit. SHIT.” Gerard is babbling, and Frank’s beginning to get scared – what was Gerard regretting so badly about last night? If it was a girlfriend or whatever, it’s not like Frank would ever meet her being the poor peasant that he was, and they could pretend it never happened.
Part of Frank’s soul threw a tantrum at the thought of leaving Gerard in any way, but Frank silently suppressed his traitor feelings and went back to hunting for Gerard’s problem, trying to read his eyes as if they were a book that held all the answers.
Gerard’s emotions have built to such a crescendo now that they’re pouring into Frank’s head and the very strongest one is fear. It’s nearly so overwhelming that Frank wants to go and throw up, because Gerard doesn’t seem to realize that Frank is now feeling that fear, and to Frank, it’s unjustified, and that’s making it worse.
Gerard is out of the bed by now, still muttering under his breath, but starting to wave his arms about in frustration and glaring at Frank. Frank feels his heart stitches begin to fray again under that angry glare and his own damn thoughts from yesterday swim through his head.…That final fix of Gerard… it was worth it… it would have to be… But looking at the beautiful green-eyed boy pacing (still naked) at the end of the bed that had once belonged to him, Frank wondered if his own rash, lust fuelled judgment was right. And from the looks of him, so did Gerard.
Frank watches Gerard pace back and forth, back and forth and sees at the glares at him increase in intensity, the lust flooded back into his pretty eyes but it being crushed out by the sheer panic, the deep fear and the hot anger that flared above it. Suddenly, Gerard just stops and turns those hypnotic eyes straight to Frank, propped up on the bed.
“This is your fucking fault.” Frank’s love spits out, the words hanging low and venomous in the silent air of the dorm that was once theirs. Everything about Gerard screamed fury, muscles tensed and eyes glaring; hair ruffled and fists clenched.
“You’ve made me like this! You’ve fucking changed me, and now… now… n-now…” Frank watches in horror as Gerard’s brilliant green eyes begin to bubble with tears, radiating that same fear that was burning through Frank’s head like a flamethrower. Gerard’s ceased pacing; staring into the distance, lashes wet from tears he was desperately trying to hold back, and mouth twisted into a grimace from… what looked like grief etched so heavily on Gerard’s beautiful features.
The pain of Gerard’s face made Frank want to cry so badly, even worse than the first time he saw Gerard so vulnerable – the day he burnt Frank’s timetable. The boy Frank was in love with, the cocky egotistical bastard that he had fallen so hard for was seemingly nothing but a shell, a façade to attempt to hide this cowering Gerard from the world.
But Gerard himself had warned Frank of that, hadn’t he? And despite the Gerard in front of him now being so unlike the Gerard Frank had first met and been so attracted to, Frank couldn’t help himself. He’d fallen in love with this Gerard too. That had always been the thing that reeled him back into those green eyes – Gerard’s many personalities. The rough uncontrollable Gerard that turned Frank on so much, the patronizing asshole Gerard that was so alluring and so much fun to tease and torture, the anguished frightened Gerard that made Frank’s heart sing with sorrow for him – all of them intrigued Frank, and he’d been bewitched by each of them in turn.
“What’s scaring you so badly Gerard?” Frank murmurs softly into the heavy silence of the room; hoping to find out the cause for Gerard’s distress. The ebony haired boy snaps out of his reverie and stares at Frank for a moment, apparently unable to recognize him.
That blank look shakes Frank to the core. The boy he loved with everything he himself had to give was just staring at him like he didn’t know how Frank was in his bed. It’s almost as if Gerard is staring through him, like Frank’s a piece of stained glass – pretty but without purpose.
And as the minutes strain past, Frank begins to wonder if that’s all he ever was. …You were never an experiment to me, so don’t you ever fucking presume that… Gerard had told him that yesterday. But he’d said it in the heat of lust, when anyone gets so desperate, they’ll say anything to get off. Gerard still looks like Frank is nobody to him, and Frank feels the beginning of rage build up in his chest.
Gerard was always fucking running away – unable or unwilling to deal with his rich boy problems – and Frank was fucking sick. Why couldn’t he learn to deal with shit that bothered him, and not just flee every time?
Apparently he’d said that out loud, because Gerard’s expression cleared and nothing but hard anger showed in his eyes.
“You have no inkling into my family interrelationships, asshole. You’re under the delusion that simply because that I have monetary status that my blood relations are adequate. I regret to inform you that my life doesn’t quite live up to those stereotypical notions.” Gerard’s language gives Frank a flashback to that first day at Red Academy and the green eyed boy blowing off the teacher that asked what they were doing out of lessons – it had been Chemistry, Frank recalled. Gerard’s language get’s fancy when he’s angry. Really fucking angry.
Frank feels his temper flare up at Gerard’s poisonous tone.
“Oh yeah? I’m guessing since that I don’t come from around here and didn’t get a fancy fucking education as a child, you think I’m pretty fucking stupid, right? Cause you treat me like shit, after every time we’re together, you pretend it never happened. Do you have some sort of girlfriend or something?”
Gerard’s eyes flicker to the bruises on Frank’s throat and Frank remembers the comment he’d made to get Gerard so angry as to cause those bruises.
“No. I do not have “some sort of girlfriend” stashed away.”
Frank leans towards Gerard, feeling saddened that the green eyes bot flinched away, but not enough the stop the next few words drip out of his mouth like toxic waste.
“So who was the homophobe in your family, huh?”
Gerard’s facial features change dramatically after Frank’s statement – not in the way Frank expected. He’d been expecting the same blind fury to enter Gerard’s eyes, and hopefully force a violent reaction out of him, but instead, Gerard’s face just crumpled into the unfamiliar lines of shame and grief. It kills Frank on the inside to have to watch Gerard die slightly, and he wants to know why.
Gerard seems very far away again; eyes glazed and haunted, a trip into hideous memories that are twisting in his eyes, a dark heavy cloud over that vibrant green.
The thoughts are so potent that they begin to pulse in Frank’s head – gristly images of blood, a tall skinny boy with glasses perched on his nose crying and pleading, furious yelling and that familiar older face that Frank had recognized at the graduation ceremony yesterday.
Gerard whimpers quietly, crystal tears of anguish running down his face and Frank wants to rip the guts out of whoever is causing those tears to run down Gerard’s porcelain cheekbones and over his perfect lips. That rage at whoever is damaging Gerard so badly unlocks the door to his telepathy and Gerard’s haunted memories flood in, swirling around his brain.
That same skinny bespectacled boy is shoved against a wall, fear swimming in his eyes – identical to Gerard’s – and blood running from the corner of his mouth. The older man Frank’s seen before in Gerard’s head has shoved his face inches from the skinny boy’s and is red faced and panting.
“There is no homosexual filth tainting this family, Michael James Way!” the older man – who Frank assumes to be Gerard’s father – roars in the face of his trembling offspring, raising his hand and slapping Michael straight across the face, marking his pale skin with a fierce crimson handprint.
That same hand that dealt the ferocious slap is suddenly grasping the thin boy’s skinny throat, squeezing until Michael gasping for air and scrabbling his own bony hands at the strong grip around his neck. The boy begins to go blue, and his own father slams his son’s brown hair covered head against the wall. A crack echoes within the room, and Frank feels Gerard flinching within his own mind.
Franks head begins to swim with fear, and sheer horror at what Gerard witnessed. But the memory wasn’t over.
The older Way begin to kick the broken boy on the floor, each kick increasing in brutality and sapping strength from Michael with each wrathful stamp or swing of the leg. Ribs, stomach, face – it seemed as if their father was hell-bent on removing the “filthy fucking stain on our family” that was, apparently, the homosexual boy sprawled on the floor. Mister Way leant and picked his son’s limp head off the floor, glared at the nearly unconscious boy with a pure flames and ice look that would shame even Gerard, and coldly slammed Michael’s head violently onto the marble floor, once, twice, three times.
Blood, red and sticky began to ooze from Michael’s scalp, pooling in ugly clumps on that cold floor. Michael's hazel green eyes – so fucking similar to Gerard’s it terrified Frank – were glazed and cloudy.
Gerard was kneeling next to his broken brother, sobbing uncontrollably, shoulder shaking in distress.
“I-I-I’m so f-f-fucking s-sorr – I’m s’p-posed to look af-after you, and I-I d-d-didn’t – Mikey, M-Mikey, please” The pain Gerard’s in, in even through his memories, hits Frank like a truck. He’s just kneeling over his dead brother, body wracked with the grief filled wails that left this body as he delicately touched his brother face for what Frank guessed would be for the first time.
“Do the same as your disgusting brother, Gerard Arthur Way, and you’ll befall the same fate. I will not have faggots in this house and bear my name, do you understand me?” The older Way spat down venomously at his remaining son, curled up on the floor with his still brother, eyes almost as glassy looking.
Gerard choked outa broken sob in the silent air of the dorm, rapidly filling with light, and Frank looked at him, his head silent once again. Gerard was unaware of Frank’s telepathy, and so Frank couldn’t comfort the green-eyed angel in front of him like he desperately wanted to.
“You have no idea what my father was like” Gerard whispered, voice broken and raspy from the tears he was still shedding. Frank was trying to hold himself together and not unravel at the soul-destroying expression on Gerard’s face.
“I can’t do that, Frank. I… can’t. Not for you. I’m sorry. The most important person in the world to me lost his life because of this infatuation with boys, and… I’m fucking sorry, and I… Iloveyou. But, I alwats said I'd live for him, and then I met you, and... Oh god. I love you, but...” Gerard’s shoving his clothes on, and for the last time in his life, Frank saw Gerard run out of dormitory number 13's - the room he met, loved and lost Gerard - door.
This time, Frank couldn’t find it in his heart to hate Gerard for his actions. Instead, he sank onto the bed that used to belong Gerard’s and sobbed for the Way brothers, for Mikey, the boy who’d paid the ultimate price for loving his own gender, and for Gerard, the sibling left to watch his brother die and then be trapped by that same constant threat.
Frank cried for the boy he loved, and the brother that had been stripped of his life.
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Cheerful chapter, no?
WELL, this is not the end of the story. Kind of sounds like it, doesn't it? It's not. May take a while to update though, as I have to do some serious thinking about it.
Also, did anyone like my little 'this is why Gerard is totally bipolar' thing I did there? I hope you did. It's all built up to this, but I'm not giving away how it ends. I'm not sure yet. It'll be dramatic, cause that's fun to write.
And I'm really hoping you didn't all think it was shit.
UNTIL NEXT TIME. (Rate and review? ^.^ Also, holy shit this now has 1,800 veiws, is all green and gets loads of reveiws! I actually love you all. HAPPY DANCING.)
I won't bother you with this, I'll go write a nice big note at the end for no-one to read.
ENJOY :)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first thing Frank registered when he began to stir from sleep was the fact he was aching all over; he was pretty sure his throat and shoulder blades were bruised after Gerard shoved him into that wall and hauled him up by his throat, and his ass and hips were also pretty damn sore, but Frank didn’t mind that at all – in fact, he’d willingly take the trade of a sore ass and hipbones the next morning for phenomenal sex any day.
He shifted over slightly, unable to remember quite how he got under the covers of the bed – he and Gerard had fucked on top of the covers yesterday, and then they were making out, and then… Frank couldn’t remember anymore after that.
He felt movement behind him, and turned over properly to face Gerard, who was still half asleep and smiled softly at him, before gently kissing the green-eyed boy and tracing a hand down his porcelain cheek. He loved the blush that appeared wherever his hand brushed.
Gerard smiled sleepily at him, and the sight was so adorable to Frank that he couldn’t restrain himself. He snaked his tattooed arms around Gerard’s waist and kissed him properly, slow and sensual. Gerard moaned into his mouth quietly, then pulled back and slid his pale long fingers – the ones that had been in him yesterday; Frank shivered at the memory – over the bruises on Frank’s throat carefully.
“I really did that?” Gerard murmurs quietly, still sounding mildly asleep. Suddenly, he jolted upright, eyes bugging slightly, and spun around to face Frank, who was still laying in the bed.
“WE actually did that? We slept together?” Gerard sounds frantic, almost as if he wants Frank to deny it, to tell Gerard that it was an insane dream or a crazy fantasy; Frank can’t bring himself to do that though – it would be lying about the existence of one of the best nights of his life. And he really couldn’t do that to his still delicate heart.
“Yes Gerard, we did that.” Frank’s words are slow, cautious, and he’s searching Gerard’s eyes for whatever changed so suddenly, and a thought occurs to him – what if Gerard had some rich girlfriend waiting for him somewhere, and he’d cheated? Gerard looks so stressed, hands running through his hair agitatedly and his gorgeous eyes whirling back and forth in their sockets lined with the thick black lashes.
“No, no, no, NO. This can’t be happening, not to me! Not after – Shit. SHIT.” Gerard is babbling, and Frank’s beginning to get scared – what was Gerard regretting so badly about last night? If it was a girlfriend or whatever, it’s not like Frank would ever meet her being the poor peasant that he was, and they could pretend it never happened.
Part of Frank’s soul threw a tantrum at the thought of leaving Gerard in any way, but Frank silently suppressed his traitor feelings and went back to hunting for Gerard’s problem, trying to read his eyes as if they were a book that held all the answers.
Gerard’s emotions have built to such a crescendo now that they’re pouring into Frank’s head and the very strongest one is fear. It’s nearly so overwhelming that Frank wants to go and throw up, because Gerard doesn’t seem to realize that Frank is now feeling that fear, and to Frank, it’s unjustified, and that’s making it worse.
Gerard is out of the bed by now, still muttering under his breath, but starting to wave his arms about in frustration and glaring at Frank. Frank feels his heart stitches begin to fray again under that angry glare and his own damn thoughts from yesterday swim through his head.…That final fix of Gerard… it was worth it… it would have to be… But looking at the beautiful green-eyed boy pacing (still naked) at the end of the bed that had once belonged to him, Frank wondered if his own rash, lust fuelled judgment was right. And from the looks of him, so did Gerard.
Frank watches Gerard pace back and forth, back and forth and sees at the glares at him increase in intensity, the lust flooded back into his pretty eyes but it being crushed out by the sheer panic, the deep fear and the hot anger that flared above it. Suddenly, Gerard just stops and turns those hypnotic eyes straight to Frank, propped up on the bed.
“This is your fucking fault.” Frank’s love spits out, the words hanging low and venomous in the silent air of the dorm that was once theirs. Everything about Gerard screamed fury, muscles tensed and eyes glaring; hair ruffled and fists clenched.
“You’ve made me like this! You’ve fucking changed me, and now… now… n-now…” Frank watches in horror as Gerard’s brilliant green eyes begin to bubble with tears, radiating that same fear that was burning through Frank’s head like a flamethrower. Gerard’s ceased pacing; staring into the distance, lashes wet from tears he was desperately trying to hold back, and mouth twisted into a grimace from… what looked like grief etched so heavily on Gerard’s beautiful features.
The pain of Gerard’s face made Frank want to cry so badly, even worse than the first time he saw Gerard so vulnerable – the day he burnt Frank’s timetable. The boy Frank was in love with, the cocky egotistical bastard that he had fallen so hard for was seemingly nothing but a shell, a façade to attempt to hide this cowering Gerard from the world.
But Gerard himself had warned Frank of that, hadn’t he? And despite the Gerard in front of him now being so unlike the Gerard Frank had first met and been so attracted to, Frank couldn’t help himself. He’d fallen in love with this Gerard too. That had always been the thing that reeled him back into those green eyes – Gerard’s many personalities. The rough uncontrollable Gerard that turned Frank on so much, the patronizing asshole Gerard that was so alluring and so much fun to tease and torture, the anguished frightened Gerard that made Frank’s heart sing with sorrow for him – all of them intrigued Frank, and he’d been bewitched by each of them in turn.
“What’s scaring you so badly Gerard?” Frank murmurs softly into the heavy silence of the room; hoping to find out the cause for Gerard’s distress. The ebony haired boy snaps out of his reverie and stares at Frank for a moment, apparently unable to recognize him.
That blank look shakes Frank to the core. The boy he loved with everything he himself had to give was just staring at him like he didn’t know how Frank was in his bed. It’s almost as if Gerard is staring through him, like Frank’s a piece of stained glass – pretty but without purpose.
And as the minutes strain past, Frank begins to wonder if that’s all he ever was. …You were never an experiment to me, so don’t you ever fucking presume that… Gerard had told him that yesterday. But he’d said it in the heat of lust, when anyone gets so desperate, they’ll say anything to get off. Gerard still looks like Frank is nobody to him, and Frank feels the beginning of rage build up in his chest.
Gerard was always fucking running away – unable or unwilling to deal with his rich boy problems – and Frank was fucking sick. Why couldn’t he learn to deal with shit that bothered him, and not just flee every time?
Apparently he’d said that out loud, because Gerard’s expression cleared and nothing but hard anger showed in his eyes.
“You have no inkling into my family interrelationships, asshole. You’re under the delusion that simply because that I have monetary status that my blood relations are adequate. I regret to inform you that my life doesn’t quite live up to those stereotypical notions.” Gerard’s language gives Frank a flashback to that first day at Red Academy and the green eyed boy blowing off the teacher that asked what they were doing out of lessons – it had been Chemistry, Frank recalled. Gerard’s language get’s fancy when he’s angry. Really fucking angry.
Frank feels his temper flare up at Gerard’s poisonous tone.
“Oh yeah? I’m guessing since that I don’t come from around here and didn’t get a fancy fucking education as a child, you think I’m pretty fucking stupid, right? Cause you treat me like shit, after every time we’re together, you pretend it never happened. Do you have some sort of girlfriend or something?”
Gerard’s eyes flicker to the bruises on Frank’s throat and Frank remembers the comment he’d made to get Gerard so angry as to cause those bruises.
“No. I do not have “some sort of girlfriend” stashed away.”
Frank leans towards Gerard, feeling saddened that the green eyes bot flinched away, but not enough the stop the next few words drip out of his mouth like toxic waste.
“So who was the homophobe in your family, huh?”
Gerard’s facial features change dramatically after Frank’s statement – not in the way Frank expected. He’d been expecting the same blind fury to enter Gerard’s eyes, and hopefully force a violent reaction out of him, but instead, Gerard’s face just crumpled into the unfamiliar lines of shame and grief. It kills Frank on the inside to have to watch Gerard die slightly, and he wants to know why.
Gerard seems very far away again; eyes glazed and haunted, a trip into hideous memories that are twisting in his eyes, a dark heavy cloud over that vibrant green.
The thoughts are so potent that they begin to pulse in Frank’s head – gristly images of blood, a tall skinny boy with glasses perched on his nose crying and pleading, furious yelling and that familiar older face that Frank had recognized at the graduation ceremony yesterday.
Gerard whimpers quietly, crystal tears of anguish running down his face and Frank wants to rip the guts out of whoever is causing those tears to run down Gerard’s porcelain cheekbones and over his perfect lips. That rage at whoever is damaging Gerard so badly unlocks the door to his telepathy and Gerard’s haunted memories flood in, swirling around his brain.
That same skinny bespectacled boy is shoved against a wall, fear swimming in his eyes – identical to Gerard’s – and blood running from the corner of his mouth. The older man Frank’s seen before in Gerard’s head has shoved his face inches from the skinny boy’s and is red faced and panting.
“There is no homosexual filth tainting this family, Michael James Way!” the older man – who Frank assumes to be Gerard’s father – roars in the face of his trembling offspring, raising his hand and slapping Michael straight across the face, marking his pale skin with a fierce crimson handprint.
That same hand that dealt the ferocious slap is suddenly grasping the thin boy’s skinny throat, squeezing until Michael gasping for air and scrabbling his own bony hands at the strong grip around his neck. The boy begins to go blue, and his own father slams his son’s brown hair covered head against the wall. A crack echoes within the room, and Frank feels Gerard flinching within his own mind.
Franks head begins to swim with fear, and sheer horror at what Gerard witnessed. But the memory wasn’t over.
The older Way begin to kick the broken boy on the floor, each kick increasing in brutality and sapping strength from Michael with each wrathful stamp or swing of the leg. Ribs, stomach, face – it seemed as if their father was hell-bent on removing the “filthy fucking stain on our family” that was, apparently, the homosexual boy sprawled on the floor. Mister Way leant and picked his son’s limp head off the floor, glared at the nearly unconscious boy with a pure flames and ice look that would shame even Gerard, and coldly slammed Michael’s head violently onto the marble floor, once, twice, three times.
Blood, red and sticky began to ooze from Michael’s scalp, pooling in ugly clumps on that cold floor. Michael's hazel green eyes – so fucking similar to Gerard’s it terrified Frank – were glazed and cloudy.
Gerard was kneeling next to his broken brother, sobbing uncontrollably, shoulder shaking in distress.
“I-I-I’m so f-f-fucking s-sorr – I’m s’p-posed to look af-after you, and I-I d-d-didn’t – Mikey, M-Mikey, please” The pain Gerard’s in, in even through his memories, hits Frank like a truck. He’s just kneeling over his dead brother, body wracked with the grief filled wails that left this body as he delicately touched his brother face for what Frank guessed would be for the first time.
“Do the same as your disgusting brother, Gerard Arthur Way, and you’ll befall the same fate. I will not have faggots in this house and bear my name, do you understand me?” The older Way spat down venomously at his remaining son, curled up on the floor with his still brother, eyes almost as glassy looking.
Gerard choked outa broken sob in the silent air of the dorm, rapidly filling with light, and Frank looked at him, his head silent once again. Gerard was unaware of Frank’s telepathy, and so Frank couldn’t comfort the green-eyed angel in front of him like he desperately wanted to.
“You have no idea what my father was like” Gerard whispered, voice broken and raspy from the tears he was still shedding. Frank was trying to hold himself together and not unravel at the soul-destroying expression on Gerard’s face.
“I can’t do that, Frank. I… can’t. Not for you. I’m sorry. The most important person in the world to me lost his life because of this infatuation with boys, and… I’m fucking sorry, and I… Iloveyou. But, I alwats said I'd live for him, and then I met you, and... Oh god. I love you, but...” Gerard’s shoving his clothes on, and for the last time in his life, Frank saw Gerard run out of dormitory number 13's - the room he met, loved and lost Gerard - door.
This time, Frank couldn’t find it in his heart to hate Gerard for his actions. Instead, he sank onto the bed that used to belong Gerard’s and sobbed for the Way brothers, for Mikey, the boy who’d paid the ultimate price for loving his own gender, and for Gerard, the sibling left to watch his brother die and then be trapped by that same constant threat.
Frank cried for the boy he loved, and the brother that had been stripped of his life.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cheerful chapter, no?
WELL, this is not the end of the story. Kind of sounds like it, doesn't it? It's not. May take a while to update though, as I have to do some serious thinking about it.
Also, did anyone like my little 'this is why Gerard is totally bipolar' thing I did there? I hope you did. It's all built up to this, but I'm not giving away how it ends. I'm not sure yet. It'll be dramatic, cause that's fun to write.
And I'm really hoping you didn't all think it was shit.
UNTIL NEXT TIME. (Rate and review? ^.^ Also, holy shit this now has 1,800 veiws, is all green and gets loads of reveiws! I actually love you all. HAPPY DANCING.)
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