Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > But No One Sees the Gnashing Teeth of My Heart [Frerard]


by eccentricpaige 1 review

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2012-05-12 - Updated: 2012-05-12 - 1836 words

As my birthday draws near, I realize just how desperately I want to be out of school. There's no telling where I'll end up, but for the life of me I can't bear to stick around any longer than I absolutely have to. These thoughts battle the pessimism in my head as I ascend the front steps to school and walk through the double doors into the concoction of voices and joke-telling. Everything has an odd sense of familiarity, but at the same time I feel as if I could pass for a complete stranger; someone on the outside peering into a world he doesn't understand.

I'm just that guy, to most. That quiet kid with no one to joke with like most of these suckers have. Him.

The laughter increases as I make my way over to my locker and spin the lock before pressing it open and feeling around for a pencil.

"Iero?" a deep voice questions, I can almost feel the goosebumps on my neck multiplying by the moment. I turn to meet the face of a long-time acquaintance and wonder what the hell he could be wanting with me.

"Hm?" I mumble, barely seeming to acknowledge his existence while focusing my gaze elsewhere until he's said his piece.

"You hang out with that fag, much?" he asks while I'm trying so hard to think of his name. It never does come to mind though, and his question throws me off course even harder.

"Wh-who?" I question, stumbling over my words and willing him away so I can have balance once again.

"Y'know, that queer fuck we all saw you with a time or two 'round school. The one with the bruises?" the nameless boy asks, a sudden laugh leaving his mouth at the mentioning of Gerard's wounds.

"What about him?" I ask, ignoring all of the rude remarks and submitting to curiosity.

"Word is he's into some fucking weird shit, man. Why you wastin' your time with him?" he asks, the name Jimmy seeming to materialize over his head.

"Maybe you should spend less time listening to what the 'word is' and more time getting to know him, huh?" I speak up, finally responding in accordance to my mood. I can feel the anger simmering within my chest, but it isn't nearly enough for me to put myself out there and ask to get hurt again. Jimmy's face changes from playful to dark in a second flat and that inevitable fear creeps across my neck and travels to my cheeks, giving itself away via blush.

"Maybe you should act like you've got a fuckin' brain in that head of air you have and just listen to me before someone gets hurt." Jimmy barks, his finger pressing hard against my collar bone as his eyes slink over my face and body through the crooked glare he's sporting. I swallow and turn away, hoping he'll have the sense not to bother me any longer.

"Frankie. Mr. nobody. Since when're you sucha fag yourself, huh? You yousta be an all right guy, yannow. The fuck happened?" he asks through his cut off drawl. I can feel my joints stiffen in response to those harsh words, but I'm already too far gone to even care. The sweat beading on my forehead is all the indication anyone needs in order to see just how uncomfortable I am. I'm done.

"Just leave me the hell alone, all right? There's a reason we don't speak anymore, you know." I say angrily as I turn completely away to close my locker and head downstairs for the art room. Jimmy scoffs almost inaudibly in surprise before retracting his finger and mumbling about my attitude as he walks away. By now I'm so frazzled I can hardly remember my name, but it doesn't stop me from speeding down the stairs and over for the fiber optic room.

Once I'm in, the atmosphere sweeps over me and I'm submersed in a sanctuary I could stay in forever. Fresh paint has been poured and decorative chairs are all placed from table to table, most of which are at least halfway done or farther. My focus finally reaches the chair Gerard and I have been working on. It seems he's spent more free time here than I could have guessed. Already the strings are drawn and coated with a clear gloss to really bring about a shine. I'm filled with appreciation, or possibly just awe. Either way, seeing the artist in the flesh only serves to be a surprise at this point as he moves from his bent position into a standing one before looking me over and muttering a Hi.

"Where'd you get those?" I ask, referring to the darkening marks on his cheek and chin. Already nearly purple, the bruises paint his face tragically; he looks like a fucking piece of art and I'm ready to make a bid.

"J-just some... people. I don't even know them, actually. I was walking from the parking lot..." Gerard trails off, his eyes looking upward and meeting mine for a minute while I try to figure out how to give him the compliment that's fighting to leave my tongue.

"They suit you." I decide with, praying he won't be as offended as most would be. Instead, as I had hoped, a smile spreads across his features, the pain in his face evident but being masked strongly with joy.

"Thank you?" Gerard answers questioningly, triggering a mutual laugh from us both and ushering me over to the work table to get moving as people start to file in and class officially begins. Nearly an hour goes by as I work on the seat, making sure to coat it nicely in black before adding on the metallic paint we'd decided to use. Gerard occasionally mumbles words of encouragement, which only feed that daring side within me and egg me on in upping the ante. I can't keep the smirk off of my face, even once the bell has rung and we're due for our next classes.

The rest of the day crawls slowly on by, my longing to do something more exciting than what I have planned only grows inside of me, threatening to burst out. I never mentioned to my mother that I'd be hanging out with a friend after retrieving her medicine, but she's due for an exam this evening, which will hopefully work to my advantage in distracting her. When the dismissal bell rings, I'm filled with surprising excitement. It's so foreign and so startling, but I make due and collect my things so I can walk to the hospital. I pass by Gerard in the hallway and stop at his locker for the first time, taking only a moment to marvel at his magnetized magazine clippings inside before addressing the situation.

"So where do you want to meet after I swing by the hospital to pick something up for my mom?" I burst out, clearly causing Gerard to jump before turning around to find my face.

"Wherever. W-we could go back to my house if you wa-"

"Perfect. See you there in an hour or?" I ask, knowing full well that my excitement is making him uneasy in his own right.

"Probably a little longer than that. I have some things I need to do. Make it two?" Gerard says firmly, willing me to understand with his eyes. I nod and tell him I'll be around then before setting off for the road and calculating just how long all of this should take before I have that excess time to kill.

The two hours fly by considerably faster than I ever thought they would. In the short span of time I manage to sign for my mother's prescriptions, take them home to her and make up an airtight lie about studying with someone for our presentation on Economics in Government next week. Her eyes linger only momentarily on the door before she gives me the go ahead and reminds me of my curfew, which is in just a little less than two hours. I nod before grabbing a bottle of water to take with me while I'm walking down the street and bolt before she's able to change her mind and stop me.

By the time I arrive on Gerard's porch, I'm able to take my time in observing what I hadn't been able to catch the other day. Of course the mounds of dust had stuck with me, just as the decrepit yard and car in the lot to the left of the house had. But even closer still I start to notice the hint of home lingering around the place. The stack of wood beside of the car port is neat and high, proving Gerard's dad to be quite the working man. Meanwhile the alarming pile of cigarette butts in the outdoor ashtray on the steps go to show that Gerard is more than likely not the only smoker in the house. A smile twitches on my lips at the thought for some reason, but soon disappears when the realization strikes that I only have until seven thirty before all of this will be taken away from me once again. I use the dangling knocker to grab his attention before taking a step back to leave room for the door's swing. In just a few moments, Gerard's outline is seen just past the blinds of the window before he's drawing back the locks and letting me in.

Everything is just as vacant as can be, but it all seems to shout home in one way or another. The smell of popcorn fills my nostrils almost instantly as I realize that he's thrown an attempt at snack-making.

"Figured you'd be hungry... If not I can just seal it back." Gerard says after we exchange greetings and I'm fully inside with the door shut behind me.

"Nah, I'll take some. What have you been up to?" I ask casually, hoping for a helpful answer rather than his usual vague response.

"Oh, just stuff. Nothing of real importance." Gerard says, his eyes drifting distantly into a section of his mind I'd like to visit before he turns and offers me a drink.

"I'll have whatever you've got." I say after pitching my now empty bottle into the trashcan next to one of the bar stools. I receive a can of Pepsi in return and open it with a sudden click and fizz before sipping down the bubbles and meeting Gerard's intrusive glance all at once.

"S-sorry," I say while wiping the small dribble from my chin.


Fifteen minutes rush by before we're seated in the living room with a movie playing in the background. I can't think of much to say, which actually comes in handy for once because Gerard seems to be the talkative type this evening.

"So Frankie. Tell me more about you. A guy could croak trying to figure you out."
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