FicWad

A/N Hello to anyone reading this! So this is chapter 2, sorry if it's shite but I'm getting to grips with this so don't hate:)
Also, if anyone cares, I've actually got a plot to this, so stay tuned :D
R&R!!

R xo

Chapter Two:

“Fuck.”
Why are pavements so uneven? And why am I incapable of walking in a straight line? I was heading towards the bus stop two blocks away from my house. On my way back to hell.
Double bio yesterday had been a success, no one paid attention to me all lesson. Gerard chose to sit next to me, much to his relief no one was sitting along the back bench at all. Unsurprisingly. Neither of us had much to say, so I plugged my headphones back in after a few minutes to drown out the talk of osmosis and other scientific crap I wouldn’t need to know about. He did tell me he lives somewhere near me, a couple of streets away. I gave him directions and told him to meet me at the bus stop at the top of the hill, if his mom drops him off at school again, he will die.
I learnt that the hard way.
Although, I’m not dead, so I guess that’s wrong.
But that’s not the point. He’s on his way to meet me now, I wonder if he’ll be wearing that leather jacket again. Not that I care…

**

“So this is your LITTLE brother?” I asked Gerard when he turned up, cheeks slightly flushed from the walk. He nodded and leaned back against the bus stop, sheltered from the wind.
“Less of the little, I’m taller than you both.”
I forgot about Mikey. I looked him up and down. As if I needed another reason to feel like a short arse, this kid was huge for his age. I have decided I want to be stretched on a medieval rack for my birthday next month. Being short pissed me off sometimes.
His creased grey skinnies clung to his bony legs and drew attention to his awkward knees, angled slightly inwards. I turned back to Gerard when Mikey started to shuffle nervously under my gaze and nudge his glasses further up his nose.
“Excited for day two then?” Did I mention I spoke fluent sarcasm?
Gerard tried to smile in response, but it was false. He dreaded today as much as I did. I took the opportunity to inspect him; his hair was falling messily on his face, blown around from the wind. He was wearing the same tight black jeans as yesterday, and to my disappointment, he’d traded his scuffed leather jacket for a loose black hoodie with a faded circle of grey on the left side which I assumed was a logo. His dark eyes were softly outlined in black, making them look bigger than I remembered. He raised his eyebrows at me and smiled awkwardly, and I took this as my queue to stop staring. I lifted the corners of my mouth up in what I hoped was a smile in response. The arrival of the bus broke the awkward silence and we piled on, handing over our change and heading for the nearest available seats. What a fucking rip off, with all the money I’ve spent on this bus I could buy a car. Honest to Buddha.
I expected Gerard to sit with Mikey, the bus seats are only two wide, but he walked towards me and I shifted in my seat so there was room. Not that he needed much with that little ass. Mikey leaned forward in his seat across the row to look at me, then Gerard, pouted slightly and gave us his best attempt at looking rejected. Gerard turned to face me and did his best to replicate the face, his eyes shining and his bottom lip quivering slightly. I laughed and he laughed with me, his cheeks tinged pink with shyness.

**

We weren’t on the bus for long, I could walk if I wanted to but I’m a lazy fucker most days so I don’t see the point. On the first step through the school gates, I could feel Gerard tense up next to me and tried to give him my most reassuring smile. Although I’m pretty sure it just looked creepy. His face screwed up like he was confused, so I made a mental note not to do that again. Mikey muttered what was probably a goodbye and headed off in the opposite direction as we started to walk towards home room.
The first few lessons went by like normal. Gerard was only in one of them, and I sort of hoped he’d managed to get to the rest all right. I feel kind of protective of him, like no one was there for me when I got the crap beat out of me and I want to stop it happening to him. I hardly know him, but it feels like he’s just like me, like he understands. I didn’t see him until 4th period Geography, and he was sat with Andy and his gang. Not from choice, he was told to sit there, but he didn’t object. I was kind of pissed at that. He joined in their debate about which tattoo Andy should get next, and laughed along with their sex jokes.
I stopped looking and doodled on the cover of my textbook. How did I let myself get attached to this guy? I hardly know him, of course by now he must have realized I was an outcast and didn’t want to be seen with me. I dug my biro in harder to the flesh of the textbook, scribbling out a badly drawn cartoon of the Grim Reaper to go along with my various sketches of stick men committing suicide. The sound of Gerard’s laughter caught my attention as it rippled through the room, and I clenched my hand into a fist around my pen.
How did I not realize he was just like them? Fortunately the bell echoed through the room, drowning out the sounds from their direction. I threw my books into my backpack, accidently throwing my pen across the room. I was too frustrated to go and look for it. Gerard was walking towards me. I turned my back on him and slammed the door on my way out as he lent down to pick up my pen. I didn’t have to look back on him to know his face was a jumble of perfect features, twisted into a confused frown.
I pulled the hood of my jacket high up over my head and kept my eyes to the ground as I walked towards the music department. The best way I know to sort my thoughts out is to be consumed by music. I picked up the pace of my walking, wanting to get away from the people around me as soon as possible. I was just about to kick open the double doors to the staircase when I slammed into something with such force my small frame was thrown to the floor. My hood had obscured my vision, and I peered up over the rim of it to see Gary staring down at me surrounded by a group of other jocks, a stupid grin plastered on his pretty-boy face.
Gary was the stupidest human being I have ever met. Just listening to him talk makes me want to repeatedly whack my head against a wall. He talks slowly and uses the smallest words he can think of. Either the guy has learning difficulties or he’s just a fucktard, but we’ll never know. He’s thickly built with broad shoulders and a square head covered in blonde tufts. For some reason, most of the girls here find that attractive, I doubt any of them hesitate when he tells them to drop and suck, it’s like blowing royalty to them.
His smile turned malicious and he reached down to where I was sprawled on the floor and hooked a porky finger under the front of my hoodie, lifting me up off my feet effortlessly. He backed me up towards the wall, my converse limply dragging my feet along. People had stopped to stare, not wanting to miss out.

The thing with Gary was that no matter how stupid he appeared, he knew exactly how to give a good beating.

I winced as he brought up the hand not suspending me off the ground and felt the air rush towards my face before his fist slammed into my right cheek. The impact split my lip; I felt blood slowly dribble down my chin, and my head twisted to the left, trying to absorb some force from the blow. He released his grip on my hoodie, and gravity hauled me to the dirty floor. I slumped forward, wishing the ground would just open up and consume me. But it didn’t.
Gary yanked my head up with his hand, and I bit my lip to stop from emitting a cry due to the sudden movement. The room almost spun, but I got my eyes to focus.
“Stay out of my way, fag.”
Spit landed on my injured cheek and dripped down in a sticky trail. Gary righted himself, strolled back to the jocks and continued down the corridor, guffawing like he had a walnut rammed down his throat and he was choking on it.
I fucking wished he would choke.
I wiped the blood and saliva off my face with my sleeve, hauled my backpack further up my shoulder and stood up, my knees wobbling slightly. A first year caught my attention, she was staring at me, eyes wide with shock at what she’d just witnessed.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” I asked her
She shook her head at me and turned back to her friends, like nothing had happened. I stormed off through the doors, pushing them open so hard they thumped into the wall on the other side. It took less than a minute to get to the music room at the pace I was walking. The cold air stung my lip and numbed the pain in my cheek. Some girls from my year looked at me and giggled childishly as I walked past, so I brushed my hair forwards from under my hood to try and hide my injuries. I gripped the handle to the music room door and yanked it forwards, having no trouble with the shitty catch.
But what I didn’t expect was to find Gerard sat inside.
His pale fingers gripped the neck of my guitar in a G shape and he strummed lightly. He looked up at me standing in the doorway, and his expression changed instantly from content to concerned. Expecting the room to be empty, I had let a single tear fall, I felt the cold salty droplet slither down my face and drop off my chin. I made no attempt to wipe it off.
“F-Frank? What happened? Are you o-okay?” Gerard stuttered, shock altering the tone of his voice.
I turned around and pulled the door closed, fumbling with the handle until I gave up and collapsed to my knees, burying my face in the fabric of my hoodie. I heard the sound of my guitar being put down and Gerard shuffling in my direction. A small click came from above my head as the door closed, and Gerard knelt down beside me. I peered up at him from beneath the folds of my hoodie, my eyes welling up with tears.
“Frank, don’t cry…please don’t. Remember what you told me yesterday?”
I adjusted my posture so I was sitting with my legs crossed and my back supported by the door, head slouched forwards. Gerard sat beside me so our shoulders were touching. I gazed up at him, my vision was blurred but I could still make out the curve of his pointed nose, his high cheek bones and his deep hazel eyes; pools of melted chocolate and concern swirled together.
“Bullshit.” I tried to smile, to give him some idea that I was going to be okay, I was used to dealing with this on my own.
I couldn’t believe I’d let him see me so weak, I never cry. Especially not when anyone’s around. I was just feeling low, and my interaction with Gary was all it took to split open the crack in my nonchalant shell. Somehow, he broke me.
“Come on, where’s the kid I met yesterday? The one who didn’t give two shits about anything? The one who told me how to survive this dump?” I was momentarily shocked by his openness with me.
“You mean manly Frank? He’s in here somewhere. Hiding behind feminine Frank, shaking his head and tutting.” I replaced my false smile with a slightly more genuine one, and Gerard sighed and relaxed his shoulders, blowing his cool breath on my face. The scent was a combination of coffee, mint and cigarettes. I could almost taste all three.
High on the sweet smell of Gerard, I made no effort to stop him pulling my hood away from my face to fully display the damage. Still unable to see properly, he gently brushed his cold fingers across my cheek and tucked my fringe behind my ear. I leaned slightly into his hand, wanting the intimacy of the moment to last longer. He didn’t notice and pulled his hand away. I hadn’t bothered to assess the damage to my face, but I wasn’t surprised when Gerard reeled back in shock and gasped.
“Hey, I know I’m ugly but there’s no need for that!” I joked, trying to relieve the tension.
“Don’t say that.” Gerard’s face stayed a solid brick wall of seriousness. But not wanting me to worry, he forced his lips into a brief smile.
As confusing as that was, I shrugged it off and returned the smile, my eyes locked with his. He broke the connection when his eyes trailed downwards, and his hand fished in his back pocket for something. Does he keep everything there? Maybe I’ll find out someday.
Now is not the time for inappropriate thoughts, brain.
I accepted the crumpled tissue he offered and wiped it across my cheeks to catch any stray tears that had fallen. Pain surged through the right side of my face as I dragged the soft tissue over it, but I didn’t let it show in my expression. I pulled the tissue away and looked at it. There was only a small amount of blood from my lip that had dried and I’d wiped off, but the tissue was stained mainly black from my eyeliner that had smudged.
Great, I probably look even more crap than usual. Like some fucking clown morphed with a-
“Can I show you something?”
Gerard suddenly looked nervous and shy again, probably just eager to change the subject and distract me from my shitty life. I smiled and nodded, not trusting my vocal chords incase they faltered. He stood up and offered me his hand, reminding me of how I knocked him on his ass with the door yesterday. I smiled up at him and took it, willingly being pulled along with him when he went to sit on the piano stool. He shifted over to make room for me and looked up, smiling sheepishly. I sat, and he averted his eyes toward the piano, reaching forwards to touch its keys.
A small amount of disappointment coursed through me. I don’t know what I had been hoping for, but him playing the piano wasn’t what I had in mind. The instrument bores me.
But as he begun to play, I lost the ability to think. What he was doing was nothing special, nothing fancy. But it held my concentration as I watched his nimble fingers slide on the keys, slowly and gently, but providing a rhythm that made my chest feel full and empty my head of any thoughts not related to its sound. I had no idea something so beautiful could be produced on a piano. I looked away from his fingers and back to his face; his eyes were glazed over in concentration and his tangle of black hair flopped messily in his eyes, causing him to frown slightly.
Then, he stopped.
“What do you think?” He looked back at me; face contorted in such a way it made me feel like he wanted my approval. No, like he needed it.
I was lost for words. It was…beautiful.
“I-I…You…Did you write that?”
He nodded. “It’s nothing amazing; I know I’m not the next Mozart or anything. I don’t want to be. This is just something I play to myself sometimes, to remind me not to give up, that I should carry on. I-I…Ihopeitmeansthesamethingforyou.”
His last sentence came out quickly and garbled, but I was hung on his every word so I didn’t miss anything. He looked away from me, reaching into his back pocket for the second time today. He pulled out my pen I threw earlier and held it out between his long fingers. Our fingers touched as I took it from him and the organ in my chest thumped erratically, the only thing restricting its freedom being my ribs. Any anger I’d felt towards Gerard earlier had completely melted away. I had made one important discovery today:


This is what I need in my life.