Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Demolition lovers

I think I’ll blow my brains against the ceiling.

by xxMetalxFreak69 0 reviews

I looked over at Gerard and saw him look up in shock as a bit of paper landed on his desk. “Shit.”

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Angst,Humor,Romance - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Published: 2012-03-29 - Updated: 2012-04-17 - 3858 words

Chapter 14-I think I’ll blow my brains against the ceiling.

Frank’s pov.

Gerard was released from hospital the next day-and was avoiding us like the plague. I was feeling guilty; unable to look the guys-especially Mikey- in the eye without wanting to start crying again. No matter what the guys said, I still felt it was my fault; If I had reported the rape two years ago, maybe Gerard wouldn’t have been in a domestic relationship and Andy wouldn’t have done what he did to me to Gerard.
The guilt was eating me up even worse than when I and Gerard hadn’t been speaking. How could it have gone so wrong? It was only last week me and Gerard had been getting back on track, getting closer and it was only yesterday we had moved up to an entire different level with the possibility of us getting together. Only for all that to be shattered by twenty minutes of pain for Gerard committed by some fucking asshole.

I got up on Monday morning, unable to sleep anyway like the past three days, and slowly got dressed for school, wondering if Gerard was able to manage it.
After the incident the four of us were sent home though I and Gerard were sent to hospital, me for shock and Gerard for tests. After that, I hadn’t left my room, only leaving it for the bathroom. My mom was hardly around to even know what had happened but Mikey had warned me on the phone last night it was bound to get out; it was going to be in the papers today.
I sighed heavily; dragging on some bleached black skinnies and a black long sleeved shirt. I pulled on my red converse and clipped my red belt on around my waist before dragging a brush through my greasy dishevelled hair and putting on a smudge of red eye liner.
Confined to depression in my room over the weekend, I hadn’t really been taking care of myself; my hair was a mess, I had huge bags under my eyes and looked even skinnier due to not eating right either.
I slung my tie loosely around my neck and tossed on my Zombie Killer hoody. Pretty fucking ironic considering I feel like one. I trudged downstairs to grab a few cups of coffee unable to face eating yet again unable to get the images of my rape and now Gerard’s out of my mind. I checked the time; seven forty five. The guys would be around in twenty minutes.
Despite the incident and the fact we barely spoke to each other now, no doubt in shock, we still stuck to each other like glue, talking over the phone or emails. Now that school was approaching and the fact that the rape was going to be in the papers today, we were gonna be the subject of much gossip-and needed each other more than anything.
I drank at least four cups of coffee and had smoked at least five cigarettes in the space of twenty minutes when the door went. I grabbed my cell, I-pod and bag from my attic and answered the door to see Mikey dressed in black skinny jeans, a cut off black shirt and a thick black soldier jacket with a white belt, his tie around his neck and black boots that went up to his knees, his hair swept across his eyes and a faint grin on his lips. Ray was also dressed in black; black cargos, cargo boots and a baggy black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black military style puffer jacket, his headphones around his neck and guitar picks tied around his wrist with some string. Gerard was standing in the back, tight artificially ripped and artificial blood stained skinny jeans, black belt, black biker boots, a plain black tight fitting shirt and his worn out black denim jacket, his raven black hair dishevelled and his greenish brown eyes standing out with his black eye liner which finished with a slight fleck at the corners. Great, we look like we’re dressed for a funeral today.
Looking closely, I noticed the three of them looked as ragged and dishevelled as me and weirdly enough, that made me feel a lot more affectionate.
“Come on, let’s get this over with.” I muttered a slight smile on my lips as I locked the door behind me.

“So…how’d it go with the interview yesterday?” Mikey asked me quietly during registration.
“Hard.” I admitted grimly, looking over at Gerard who was keeping his head down, ignoring the mutters, looks and-sickingly enough-snickers, he was getting, focusing on his sketch, “Kept pushing for answers you know.”
Mikey looked at me sympathetically then frowned as a bit of scrunched up paper hit him squarely on the nose, setting his glasses askew.
“Hey who did that?” I yelped sharply only to earn a few sniggers.
I grumbled to myself as Mikey rolled his eyes, unravelling the scrunched up paper and reading the note. I watched as a look of disgust etched across the face then heard him growling, “Sick assholes.” He spat suddenly.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s, it’s just, aw it’s just plain sick!” Mikey said in disgust, thrusting the note at me as if it was infectious.
I frowned taking the note then read it;

Heard you’re brother got what he deserved yesterday. Tell us straight away if he finally ends his life the emo freak. You gonna make a suicide pact and end it too? Too bad the guy couldn’t get you both, give us all a laugh.

I felt bile rise in my throat, “That’s just.” I shook my head, unable to come up with a strong enough word to describe how much anger I felt.
“I know.” Mikey said quietly, looking down at his desk; I saw his eyes glaring as if trying to burn a hole into the desk, his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles showed vividly against his pale skin.
I looked over at Gerard and saw him look up in shock as a bit of paper landed on his desk.
“Shit.” I hissed; Mikey looked up sharply at his brother to see him unfurling the piece of paper, his eyes widening as he read.
Then, without warning, he stood up abruptly, grabbed his stuff and ran out the classroom, the rest of the class laughing at him as he did so.
“Oh no.” I looked over as Ray read the note Gerard had discarded, his eyes filled with horror as he did so.
Mikey didn’t wait to see what the note read; he bolted out his chair and after his brother. I waited a few seconds, me and Ray catching each others’ eye before we nodded, grabbed our stuff, (me grabbing Mikey’s) and followed, ignoring the laughs and jeers we got as we did so.

Gerard’s pov.

I was up on the roof of the building, leaning my arms on the railing and letting the rather chilly October air breeze across my face. I closed my eyes, savouring the privacy as music played through my ear buds, taking a drag from my cigarette.
My mind drifted to last Friday; I smiled to myself remembering the blissful and passionate moment me and Frank shared, wondering if he really meant it that he loved me back.
Sighing as I exhaled, I refused to let my thoughts drift nowhere near to what happened afterwards, at least not the actual moment. Instead I dwelled on my parents reaction when the cops came to our door late last night to tell us that Andy-I shuddered at the name- had turned himself in, had admitted to assaulting me through our entire relationship, raping Frank then me and was now awaiting for his court date. Unfortunately that meant I and Frank had to go to court too to give our accounts of the whole nightmare.
My parents’ reaction was every teen’s nightmare; my mom was hysterical, crying uncontrollably and my dad had gone into a complete rage and had to be calmed down by the cops or face a night in the cell. Then they tried to comfort me; telling me I was going to be okay, even suggested referring me to a damn therapist-which I strongly declined. Bad enough the school found out what happened without finding out the aftermath.
I shivered slightly as I remembered the note that caused me to run out of class in the first place. It was short, cruel, and venomous and was meant to hurt me badly. Well, someone telling you that the whole class had agreed that I and Frank deserved what we got and telling us we would be better ending it all in a suicide pact was bound to be hateful. Not exactly going to be an opener to a polite note passing conversation now is it?
I exhaled as I listened to ‘Helena’ by the Misfits currently blasting in my ears. That’s what I loved about music; you could just get lost in it and forget about all your worries and problems no matter how severe they are or it could relax you, give you time to think calmly-not to mention reasonably- about how to deal with mentioned problems.
Thinking about how to deal with this was what I was exactly doing; I couldn’t forget it so may as well think it through.
The best thing to do was split it into two categories; the good parts and the bad parts.
The good part was the fact that no one blamed me for the incident-at least no one that I really cared about blamed me. Another good thing was the fucker was bound to get a pretty long fucking sentence for this shit which was a sweet enough revenge for me than anything else. Another thing was, I still had my friends who didn’t treat me anymore different then before. If anything we’re a lot fucking closer.
Now for the bad part, the shit everyone fucking hates dealing with.
First things first, the whole fucking school know what that dick did to me and Frank and actually thought we deserved it. Secondly, I was driving myself crazy by not eating or sleeping right and feeling as if I’m the most hated person in this entire fucking world, hated by everyone in school-and myself.
Okay, so there are more good points then bad points, that’s a good start. Now how to deal with it.
Well maybe I should consider seeing a therapist; maybe the school councillor. I don’t want to spiral into a depression again and start drinking like I did during my and that fucker’s relationship. Or start feeling suicidal like I did when I thought Frank hated me completely. I refused to go back down the path of drinking until I passed out and hoping I didn’t wake up. I’m passed that now and there is no fucking way am going back.
Okay now how to deal with the fact that the entire fucking school (anyone who’s a shallow, cruel mother fucker. Like jocks and preps and plain sick assholes fitting there perfectly) thinks I and Frank deserved it and think it’s another thing to bully us for.

I handled the bullying before okay; just shrugged it off and ignored it. Or when that didn’t work, I got as good as I got and fought back-mostly ending with me beaten up pretty fucking badly or trapped in a toilet cubicle. Not the most dignified thing in the world. Besides, I only got one year of this hell hole, after I pass my exams next semester before spring break, I’m officially done with high school. Unfortunately the rest of the guys don’t finish till the summer. Reason why I finish early was something to do with the fact I started school a bit late and cause I’m eighteen. Can’t remember why I started late. Oh yeah, I took a mental breakdown and was in a mental institution for a year with suspected pyromaniac tendencies-which I have by the way. Not my fault I lost it and set my elementary school bully’s table on fire.
Wow, looking back now I’ve always been fucked up. Even at a young age. Then again, I’ve been bullied all the way through my childhood. Pre school and elementary was because I was overweight. High school was for being gay and dressing differently and also because of my music taste. Plus because I draw gothic stuff, and like comic books. God forbid if I get bullied at college. Can’t get any worse than this can it?
I blew a raspberry; on the outside I maybe taking this well, but on the inside I feel completely ripped apart. I’ve always been good at though. Hiding my emotions and letting it build up until I lose it. Take that guys’ desk for example.

I suddenly felt guilty; I maybe thinking all this through rationally, learning from my past mistakes, but how about Frank? I tried to imagine what it would be like in Frank’s shoes right now and how to deal with the situation he’s in.
Parents divorced, in the closet about his sexuality due to his religion, bullied constantly for his style, height and music taste, raped by his best fiend’s abusive ex boyfriend, fallen out with said best friend over a drunken accident, and now, no doubt, he’s wondering if he and said best friend are even dating or was it just a casual make out and suck me off session.
God and I thought I had it bad. No wonder we became best friends.
Speaking of which, that’s a funny story how we met in the first place. It wasn’t your usual, cliché’ ‘met in the park, or parents are best friends, or met in school and bonded over first day nerves’ how-we-met story. Nah no fucking way, how our friendship started is even more fucked up then our ‘Demolition lovers’ forbidden love story.
Wanna know why? Because we met in a fucking mental institution for crying out loud.
It was when I was twelve and had been in the crack house for six months when Frank was referred. He had completely lost it in class and tried to strangle a fellow classmate, got expelled from his Catholic boarding school and had caused mayhem in the neighbourhood by being a punk looking misfit, vandalising, fighting, sneaking out to concerts and whatever. He didn’t look like a trouble maker when he came. Only eleven years old, shy, with his chestnut coloured hair hiding his hazel eyes, and tugging at the sleeves of his faded Thursday hoody self consciously and keeping his eyes down on his well worn out black converse. Okay so he dressed like a trouble maker, with his ripped jeans and trashed punk look but he sure as hell didn’t come across as one. Frank spoke rarely and if he did, it was short sentences in a polite manner to anyone he didn’t know-then flipping off the nurses behind their backs if they lectured him for causing a bit of trouble. That was two weeks after his referral. After his ‘settling in’ period. It became clear why he was there. He started flipping out if other patients pissed him off even slightly, argued back with the nurses, refused to take his pills, sneaked out to concerts still, and being a total smart ass.
At first, I didn’t like him. We didn’t have that instant ‘friendship bond’ like you get in corny movies. We didn’t become friends after just one glance, catching each other’s eye. No we became friends after we argued over something pointless-maybe him getting me into trouble by blaming me for breaking something on one of the wards. But after that, we agreed we would be nice to each other and stick together, just to get through that shit hole.
So the friendship between a pint sized, punk looking misfit with anger issues and a quiet, slightly depressed, emo looking pyromaniac started. Even in mental institutions there was cliques and we had already been labelled as freaks. We eventually started getting on better, realising we had a similar taste in music (Growing up with parents who liked classic rock bands such as Queen was bound to rub off on us.) and learned about our interests; him liking guitar and a similar love of comic books, and me with an interest in drawing and music in general. So when it came to us getting released for the summer holidays a year later, we left as best friends who were inseparable.
I remember I took up song writing there, unable to be bothered to keep a journal at the time. I wrote a song called ‘Best day ever’ describing living in a hospital and finding someone there to trust and just wanting to runaway from it all. I think I still got it somewhere, maybe look it out when I get home later.
It was weird really, how most of my song writing ideas came from memories of me and Frank or my feelings about the guy. Maybe I’ve always had a small crush on him. I was definitely awestruck by him, with his ‘don’t fuck with me attitude’ and his rebelling to his parents with his get up, more controversial music, then piercings and drugs and alcohol in his late teens, staying out all night (usually at mine) and being a complete badass in my eyes. While I was just his quiet, vampire looking best friend, who was really close to my younger brother, had an okay relationship with my parents, never really socialised out of my small group of friends and just did some drawing and watched horror movies all the time. But hey they say opposites attract right? What was it the Chinese call it? Yin and Yang? Yeah that’s it; I was yin, the quieter, resigned side while Frank was yang, loud, hyperactive and pretty fucking violent when he flipped.
But then we grew up; I got more depressed and started to drink away my problems and setting fire to stuff now and again while Frank became more loud and rebellious to hide his problems, both of us too stubborn to admit we needed help, afraid we would get referred to therapists or even locked up in a crack house again.
We got through all that though, but maybe this is just one big mountain too high to conquer, maybe this might be the one that finally breaks us.
Or maybe it’ll be the one where we will finally admit that we need help.

Suddenly I clicked; the sole cause to all this shit. We may have been best friends with each other for five years, but we never admitted we needed help-to each other.
Maybe, if we sat down, talked it all out, be open, up front and honest, and get it all out in the open, we might be able to help each other out. Maybe compromise on the idea we both see the school counsellor in joint sessions and try to beat this.

Because I ain’t gonna let this shit drag me down and I sure as hell ain’t letting this take Frank down. Like I promised him, I’ll never let them hurt him. No bullies, no traumatizing memories, no homophobic parents, no mental illness. I won’t let them hurt him. And I always keep my promise.

Frank’s pov.

I had a funny feeling that I knew where Gerard was, and I was reluctant to disturb him. Maybe the guy needs a break, time to think like he always did when he was in a bad situation. I realised now that Gerard and I hadn’t always been completely honest with each other, hiding our troubles and being too stubborn to admit we needed help. Maybe we should just take some time out, talk openly and honestly and try t deal with this. Maybe even see the school counsellor together. Because I don’t think I can live on like this, and I don’t think Gee can either.
“So where else do you think he’ll be?” I looked round to see Mikey coming out the empty art class, “We’ve tried the music practice room, not there, even tried the drama room, and now the art class and he’s nowhere.” Mikey threw his arms up in defeat, looking resigned.
I couldn’t help but smile slightly; Mikey had immediately listed any sort of place Gerard might have disappeared to without leaving school premises; the empty music class in case he wanted to forget everything by singing some songs he had written, the art class in case he wanted a private place to focus on his drawing and the drama class in case he just wanted some space and maybe catch a theatre group practicing for a play. That one was a rather half hearted suggestion.
“Well, he’s gotta be somewhere.” Ray said sighing, hands on his hips, “I mean, I know he looks like a vampire, but he can’t turn into a bat now can he?”
I let out a laugh, feeling relieved that we were at least trying to act normal and temporarily forget last Friday’s events. Well certain events on my part. I wasn’t gonna forget my and Gee’s passionate moment anytime soon.
“Well maybe he’s decided to skip school for the day.” I suggested.
Mikey immediately shook his head, “No way, Gerard isn’t the guy to run away from his problems.” He said sounding rather proud of his brother.
I couldn’t help but smile slightly while Ray frowned thoughtfully.
“So any other ideas then?” he asked looking at us.
I bit my lip, wondering whether I should say. But Gerard has been away for almost an hour now. Surely he’s had plenty of time to catch a breather right?
Maybe I’m just trying to convince myself that I’m not worried.
“Well, there’s one place we haven’t checked.” I spoke up after a few minutes.
“Oh where?” Mikey asked raising an eyebrow quirkily at me.
I pointed up at the roof, “Top of the building, that’s where we used to go if we wanted to skip a class or two.”
“Alright, let’s check up there then.” Ray agreed then went off down the corridor-before backtracking, “Uh guys? How do we get up to the top of the building?” he asked confused.
Mikey face palmed himself and I rolled my eyes. Just typical of Ray to make a rather serious situation comical.
“Follow me you douche bag.” I sighed.
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