Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
I Don't Like This Show
6 reviewsMikey can't kid himself any longer. Short FRERARD/FRIKEY one-shot. Read, review, rate and feel my love! :P
3Moving
I Don’t Like This Show
It’s like purgatory, living life like this. And I blame the internet, wholeheartedly. Or rather, I blame the shameless craze that the internet has fed into becoming something that will always overshadow me; I blame the phenomenon of “Frerard”.
A word that’s so much more to me than just a mishmash of my best friend’s and big brother’s names in a single noun that fan-girls can chant at the top of their lungs at our shows. A word that to me means thinking about all of the times that I had to watch Frank, beautiful and kind and perfect Frankie, do things with my big brother on stage just because it apparently helps our band’s “image” of being proud of who we are.
That’s what Gerard said anyway. We all know that it’s because he enjoys the feeling of Frank pressed up against him, acting like some sort of twenty-dollar whore in front of thousands of sets of raging hormones every night. But of course it isn’t because Frank’s so damn sexy when he’s sweating under the stage lighting, everything about him inviting anyone within a ten mile radius in just to see him when he gets worked up on stage. It could never be because they actually enjoy it. God forbid.
Frank told me that it was just something for the fans to go crazy over at shows, to make it more exciting for the kids to watch than just a group of five guys singing some songs, told me that it didn’t mean anything. And expected me not to mind the fact that the world thought he’s fucking my big brother when he’s actually fucking me. That he’s making Gerard the special one on stage when I am meant to be the one he’s making feel special.
Apart from it’s always Gerard, isn’t it? He’s the lead singer, the one who pours his heart out to the crowd every night, the one who’s practically a fucking patron saint for lost kids searching for someone to believe in. Not that I mind any of that, if anything I prefer him having the limelight instead of me, but him touching up my boyfriend for a “show”? That I do mind. A hell of a lot.
Don’t think Frank does though. I think that he likes it, likes that the short little guitarist gets to have his five minutes in the spotlight because he’ll get on his knees in front of some guy that teen girls worldwide fantasize about. Yeah, real heroic, Frankie. Give the kids something to believe in, why don’t you.
To begin with I didn’t really mind it, back when it was few and far between. In fact, I even told Frankie that I didn’t mind when he asked me. Of course, me being the spineless bastard that I am, I said that he can do what he wants as long as it doesn’t mean anything; after all, Gerard would ask questions if Frank suddenly decided he didn’t like getting felt-up every night. You see, Frank and I, we keep us to us. We’re the only ones who know that we belong to one another. It started off as us thinking that it’s be more romantically fun that way, then moved onto it being to stop the band from worrying that if we broke up so would the band and then to a full-on necessity to protect the whole “Frerard” image.
Half the time now I think we’re just keeping it a secret so that Frank can carry on having his fun with my big brother. All of the time I know it’s because Frank’s just gotten sick of me but doesn’t want to break me like he knows ending it would.
When we first started out, Frank and me, it was back when he was the lead singer of Pencey Prep; that gave him all of the attention his ego needed and then the extra buckets that he had to bestow upon me just to get me to talk to people without stuttering or blushing like an idiot. He built me up into someone that I always wanted to be just because his love was enough to convince me that I’m important and worth hearing. His love made me me.
And now it’s tearing me apart.
Because I know that this “Frerard” thing isn’t just for the fans, it’s because they enjoy it. Not just the fans, not just Gerard; Frankie too.
My Frankie.
No. Not mine.
My big brother’s.
A/N: Just a short little Frerard/Frikey thing that I came up with, sorry for it’s crappy shortness. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :)
It’s like purgatory, living life like this. And I blame the internet, wholeheartedly. Or rather, I blame the shameless craze that the internet has fed into becoming something that will always overshadow me; I blame the phenomenon of “Frerard”.
A word that’s so much more to me than just a mishmash of my best friend’s and big brother’s names in a single noun that fan-girls can chant at the top of their lungs at our shows. A word that to me means thinking about all of the times that I had to watch Frank, beautiful and kind and perfect Frankie, do things with my big brother on stage just because it apparently helps our band’s “image” of being proud of who we are.
That’s what Gerard said anyway. We all know that it’s because he enjoys the feeling of Frank pressed up against him, acting like some sort of twenty-dollar whore in front of thousands of sets of raging hormones every night. But of course it isn’t because Frank’s so damn sexy when he’s sweating under the stage lighting, everything about him inviting anyone within a ten mile radius in just to see him when he gets worked up on stage. It could never be because they actually enjoy it. God forbid.
Frank told me that it was just something for the fans to go crazy over at shows, to make it more exciting for the kids to watch than just a group of five guys singing some songs, told me that it didn’t mean anything. And expected me not to mind the fact that the world thought he’s fucking my big brother when he’s actually fucking me. That he’s making Gerard the special one on stage when I am meant to be the one he’s making feel special.
Apart from it’s always Gerard, isn’t it? He’s the lead singer, the one who pours his heart out to the crowd every night, the one who’s practically a fucking patron saint for lost kids searching for someone to believe in. Not that I mind any of that, if anything I prefer him having the limelight instead of me, but him touching up my boyfriend for a “show”? That I do mind. A hell of a lot.
Don’t think Frank does though. I think that he likes it, likes that the short little guitarist gets to have his five minutes in the spotlight because he’ll get on his knees in front of some guy that teen girls worldwide fantasize about. Yeah, real heroic, Frankie. Give the kids something to believe in, why don’t you.
To begin with I didn’t really mind it, back when it was few and far between. In fact, I even told Frankie that I didn’t mind when he asked me. Of course, me being the spineless bastard that I am, I said that he can do what he wants as long as it doesn’t mean anything; after all, Gerard would ask questions if Frank suddenly decided he didn’t like getting felt-up every night. You see, Frank and I, we keep us to us. We’re the only ones who know that we belong to one another. It started off as us thinking that it’s be more romantically fun that way, then moved onto it being to stop the band from worrying that if we broke up so would the band and then to a full-on necessity to protect the whole “Frerard” image.
Half the time now I think we’re just keeping it a secret so that Frank can carry on having his fun with my big brother. All of the time I know it’s because Frank’s just gotten sick of me but doesn’t want to break me like he knows ending it would.
When we first started out, Frank and me, it was back when he was the lead singer of Pencey Prep; that gave him all of the attention his ego needed and then the extra buckets that he had to bestow upon me just to get me to talk to people without stuttering or blushing like an idiot. He built me up into someone that I always wanted to be just because his love was enough to convince me that I’m important and worth hearing. His love made me me.
And now it’s tearing me apart.
Because I know that this “Frerard” thing isn’t just for the fans, it’s because they enjoy it. Not just the fans, not just Gerard; Frankie too.
My Frankie.
No. Not mine.
My big brother’s.
A/N: Just a short little Frerard/Frikey thing that I came up with, sorry for it’s crappy shortness. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :)
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