FicWad

I can only begin to apologise for how long this took for me to put up. Sorry - I was stuck up a river for a week! More literally than I'd like to admit (yeah, we ran aground). And then... FUCK EXAMS!

By the way, the intelligence prize goes to me - I just accidentally posted this chapter on Birthday Surprise. FML!

Other than that... on with the show XD

Chapter Four

Sx



Frank yawned as he made his way into the small living area. Both of the Way brothers were in there, sitting at the table - Mikey staring intently at his laptop and Gerard flicking idly through some comic. The TV was on but both men were ignoring it, which is probably why it was playing some crappy reality show. The entire band had a mutual hatred for the things - although Iero did admit he wouldn't admit going on some of the crazier ones that involved camping in a jungle or something equally stupid, simply to play pranks on the stupid bimbos that always seemed to star in them. However, the minute a spider appeared, he'd be running faster than any of them, something he was man enough to admit.
 
    Stopping by the coffee maker - which was predictably half full - the guitarist grabbed a cup, and sat down on the sofa next to Mikey. 
 
    "What you doing?" He asked, peering over the older man's shoulder.
 
    "Trying to contact Alicia. The Wi-Fi's being crappy though." He scowled, clicking impatiently at something on the screen.
 
    "Dude, you saw her like two days ago. I'm sure she hasn't died in that time." Frank rolled his eyes, although, truth be told, he wasn't much better back when he was married. You'd think that considering the amount of roadies and techies, and fuck-only-knows-what-else, they had to take on tour with them, the band would be able to fit a few wives on board. But they had tried that a few times, and in less than a week the whole idea went out the window. It hadn't been too bad with Lindsey and Alicia, because they knew what being 'on tour' entailed, but the few times Christa or Jamia had tried coming along had ended in disaster. Eventually, it was decided that it would be easier just to leave them at home, maybe take them out to see a few shows. It meant the couples missed each other greatly, but it was a rock and a hard place situation. 
 
    Now of course, Frank was finding himself immensely glad that they had decided taking wives along with them was a bad idea. Even knowing that he was better off split from Jamia, it was still hard to be around loved up couples.  And obviously, it'd be even worse for Gerard, who was fresh out of his divorce, and still feeling the sting of it.
 
    Iero glanced up at the frontman as he thought this. The man had been unusually quiet the past few days, but they'd been so hectic, no one had really been able to pay any attention to this fact. They'd done shows every night since the first, and Way had disappeared back to the bus the second each was done. He appeared fine on stage - full of life and energy, grinning as though he had everything he wanted right within his grasp. 
 
    The moment the final encore was over though, he hid away back on the bus, and pretended to be asleep when the others found him. When questioned, he'd excused himself - saying he was tired, and the shows were crazy. As this was true, no one read too deep into it, but now Frank was worrying. The next show wasn't until tomorrow night, so today was a small break for them, yet Gerard was still quiet, morose.
 
    And as Iero watched, it became obvious that the singer wasn't really reading the comic in front of him - his eyes were simply fixed on it, wrist occasionally flicking the page over. The guitarist stood up and moved round to sit next to his friend, nudging the other man with his hip to get him to move over.
 
    Gerard shuffled to the side silently, still staring down at the pages in front of him. 
 
    "What's up, Gee?" Frank murmured softly, deciding just to get straight to the point. He hated it when people made small talk when there was clearly something else they wanted to discuss. Mind you, he had done exactly that, just the other day, when the frontman had been absent. Whatever - he could be a hypocrite if he wanted to be.
 
    "What do you mean 'what's up'?" The singer practically whispered back. Frank couldn't tell whether he was mocking him or not. "The sky, a few birds I guess, the ceiling of the bus."
 
    "Hey," Iero nudged the other man with his hip again, frowning teasingly. "You've just been really quiet recently, and let's face it - you usually love the sound of your own voice."
 
    "I do?" Way replied, pretending to be offended.
 
    "Yeah - that's why you’re a singer."
 
    "True... but you've fronted more bands than I have."
 
    "Hey, I never said I wasn't in love with my voice." Frank winked. "And let's face it - who wouldn't be? It's a damn sexy voice."
 
    Gerard giggled softly. "Yeah, with that NJ accent and smoker's rasp, it's the most amazing sound on the planet. Especially when no one can actually understand what the fuck you're on about, because you're screaming."
 
    "Meh. Bitches love my screaming." The guitarist shrugged playfully, then nudged his friend again. "Seriously though, what's with the sudden muteness?"
 
    "I'm talking to you now, aren't I?" Way tried, but seeing Frank's expression, gave up with his evasiveness. "I'm just kinda tired, man. You know what being on tour's like. Plus, don't wanna wear my voice out and give a bunch of kids a crappy concert now, do I?"
 
    "Yeah." Iero said shortly. "Of course."
 
    "What's that supposed to mean?" Gerard snapped.
 
    "Nothing, it's just, you've never cared before. And then, you've never 'worn your voice out'. It's not like you spend the entire time up on stage screaming anyway, is it?"
 
    "Well, sorry. You know what, fuck you Frank, and sorry for giving a damn about giving a decent performance." Despite his angry words, the singer's voice still hadn't risen to much above a whisper. He tried to stand but found his way blocked by Iero and the table.
 
    "Hey," the guitarist grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down. It just infuriated Gerard further that he didn't seem to be angry, or upset at all. In fact, his outburst seemed to have calmed the other man down. "Look, I'm not trying to antagonize you or anything, it's just, you're not usually like this. And I know it sucks to go through a divorce, so it's not like you don't have a reason to be upset. I just wanna make sure you're ok, man."
 
    The singer sighed. "I'm fine Frankie, honest. I'm just a bit off balance, you know? It's like three years of my life just went down the drain."
 
    "Yeah, I know, but you had some good times, eh?" He couldn't stop himself from snaking an arm around his friend's shoulders. Gerard didn't seem to mind; in fact, he snuggled into Frank's side. The latter ignored the way he could feel the other man's heat radiate through his clothes.
 
    "Yeah, I guess." Way sighed. "Look, thanks Frank, things are kinda shitty at the moment, so you know."
 
    "Well, we're here for you."
 
    "I know."
 
    Frank smiled to himself and squeezed his friend gently, before sinking back into the sofa and picking up the comic to flick through himself.
 
    The next few hours were spent doing nothing in general, which suited everyone. Mikey was still glued to his laptop; Ray - fuck only knew where Ray had disappeared to; Frank continued to read the comic - which turned out to be relatively good; and Gerard just stayed leaning on his friend and staring in to space, thinking about nothing in particular.
 
    Eventually, the singer got bored, and disappeared off. The guitarist and bass player stayed where the  were, knowing that they had nothing more important to do other than amuse themselves until they reached the hotel they were staying in that night.
 
    Boredom got the better of Frank about the same time his stomach started to complain at him and he decided to hunt for something to eat. So far it had been futile, but he was trying. Seriously - they had been on tour for three days, they couldn't have run out of food already. Eventually, he gave up to go to the bathroom. En route, he passed through the sleeping area. The curtain over Gerard's bunk was drawn shut, but Iero disregarded this until he heard a voice emitting from it on his way back to the tiny kitchen. 
 
"So what d'you want?"
 
    It was still only a whisper, so Frank had been unsure what the man had said, and had assumed that he was the one being addressed. When the voice came again, floating into the air from behind the bunk's curtain, Iero had realized his friend was on the phone. The other thing he'd realized was how stressed Way sounded, even with his lowered voice, it was obvious. So he'd stopped to listen.
 
    "I know, I know, I'm sorry - I'm just kinda stressed."
 
    The was a pause in the murmuring, and Frank risked leaning closer to hear better. Goodness knows that it was hard enough to begin with. It was only when you were trying to hear something quiet that you realized how loud the bus engine actually was.
 
    "I miss you too."
 
    "Awww, come on that's not fair!" The volume kicked up a notch, as did the discomfort in Gerard's voice.
 
    "Please, the guys don't even know about all of this."
 
    Upon hearing that, a small frown appeared on Frank's face and he leaned even closer, determined not to miss anything.
 
    "How am I supposed to?" Gerard whined down the phone. There was another pause and the eavesdropping guitarist could hear the raised voice of the person on the other end of the line.
 
    "Okay, yeah. Okay, no, it's fine. I'll see you then."
 
    Realizing that the conversation was drawing to a close, Frank moved away. When he reached the kitchen though, he didn't look for food, as he'd originally intended. He mind was spinning at a million miles an hour. The idea that Gerard wasn't telling them something... it was crazy. As cliché as it may sound, the four of them really were 'brothers'. There were few - if any secrets - between them, and even then, it wasn't anything of any importance. Mostly sex life with their wives, but then, no one really had any desire to hear about that.
 
    "Hey," Iero jumped at the sound of his friend's soft voice - the one whose conversation he'd just been listening in on of course.
 
    "Oh, uh, yeah, hi." He stuttered out, trying to conceal his emotions of confusion and worry. After all, it was probably nothing; Gerard was thirty-five, he could sort shit out by himself without everyone babying him. That was what the guitarist would like to think at least. 
 
    His delayed, broken response caused Way to look at him questioningly. "You okay?" He was talking at a normal volume now, and the guitarist wondered what had brought his earlier quietness on. Maybe his voice was just tired, and Iero was reading too much into it.
 
    "Yeah, fine." Frank shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just looking for some food. I mean, we've been on the road for three days. Surely it can't have all gone by now."
 
    "Is there really nothing?" Gerard moved over to try and rummage through the cupboards over Iero's head. "Mind you - there are six guys on this bus, drivers included, I wouldn't be that surprised if there was nothing left." A rustling, metallic, packet fell out of the cupboard the singer had just opened. "Oh, except Twinkies."
 
    The shorter man laughed. "Of course not. Seriously though - I can't understand where it all goes, you and Mikey are like twigs."
 
    The singer shrugged. "And you're tiny. Mind you, you eat loads. Yeah between you, Toro and the drivers, I can believe there's no noms lefts."
 
    "Noms?"
 
    "Yeah, you know, food."
 
    "Been hanging with the cool kids again, Gee?"
 
    Way laughed. "Shut up, it's just something I picked up."
 
    "From where though?" Frank really was at a loss here.
 
    "I have no idea."
 
    The guitarist just shook his head and bent down to pick up the fallen packet of Twinkies. "Hey Gerard, don't get mad at me please, but what was with the sudden... quietness earlier?"
 
    The other man frowned for a moment, and a tooth appeared to chew at his lower lip for a moment. Even he didn't know. He just hadn't really been talking to the guys before the short conversation this morning, and before that... Before that he didn't need to be heard at all - not when he was in a place where speech wasn't appreciated. It was probably just a force of habit.
 
    "I dunno." He shrugged eventually. "My throat was hurting a bit to be honest, and I was kinda tired. Sorry for snapping at you by the way."
 
    "It's fine, man, you were stressed." Frank hesitated before adding the next bit. He didn't want to give away that he’d heard Gerard's conversation. "Please though, if there's something going on, tell me. I'm just a bit worried about you - I mean, you completely disappeared after the divorce."
 
    Yeah, like you'd have wanted to see me anyway. Way couldn't stop himself thinking. But he knew, in his heart of hearts, that wasn't true. For quite a while he'd believed it, which was part of the reason he had made himself so scarce over the past two months. Now he wasn't so sure, but in moments, of madness, all of the rejection and loneliness that came when Lindsey had left him crept up, and the singer became certain of his worthlessness, and the fact that no one really loved him. Or even liked him.
 
    Being on tour had helped somewhat with this, after all - it was hard to imagine he was unloved when every night a few thousand people were screaming his name. When there were at least three people willing to live with him twenty four-seven, despite knowing him through and through - warts and all. And what being on tour didn't do for him, well, he had a different arrangement to cope with that.
 
    "I'm fine, Frank." The singer shook his head. "Honest."
 
    "'Kay, well, you know where I am."
 
    "Yeah, stuck on this bus with the rest of us!"
 
    Iero laughed. "I wonder where we're stopping tonight, actually."
 
    "It shouldn't be too long now, should it? I could go ask the driver."
 
    "Go for it." 
 
    Gerard turned around and disappeared through the door that lead to the front of the bus. Frank resumed searching for food - after all, he was still hungry. Only a few seconds later, the other re-appeared again.
 
    "He says about an hour and a half." The frontman announced.
 
    "Good - there is literally nothing on board and I'm starving!" Frank complained, making Gerard laugh.
 
    "You should be obese with the amount you eat!"
 
    The guitarist stuck his tongue out. "Yeah, but I think running around like a madman every night burns most of it off."
 
    "True." The singer laughed again, making his friend smile. "These last few shows have been great, right?"
 
    "Absolutely amazing!" Frank's grin grew. "Man, I love being on tour. Seriously, this is what I live for."
 
    "I'll drink to that." Gerard smiled again. "There is nothing on the planet that beats having thousands of kids screaming for you every night. Screaming for stuff you made."
 
    "It is amazing." 
 
    It was strange really - the two men had been receiving the same treatment for the past six or seven years of their lives, but they couldn't get used to it. The way things were looking, they probably never would. 
 
    "Where's Toro by the way?" Frank suddenly shot out. "I haven't seen him all day."
 
    "Meh. We've probably left him at a petrol station." Gerard joked, making his friend laugh. "I'm guessing he's in the studio - you know what he's like." 
 
    "Can't drag him out of it," Iero replied, rolling his eyes fondly.
 
    It turned out Ray way in there - along with several guitars, one of which was placed in his lap as he stared intently at the computer screen in front of him. There was a pair of huge headphones clamped over his ears, and the man was apparently oblivious to the fact that two other people had just walked into the small studio. 
 
    Not for long though.
 
    "BOO!" Frank yelled, smacking each of Toro's shoulder as he shouted. This resulted in the latter nearly falling out of his chair in fright.
 
    "Jesus, Frank - are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He panted, clutching at his chest.
 
    "Yep!" The smaller man flopped down in to the chair opposite, thoroughly pleased with himself. Behind the two guitarists, Gerard was clutching at the doorframe from laughing so hard. He couldn't remember laughing this much in a long time. You had to love Frank.
 
    "Why?" Ray protested. He was still playing up the shock of being frightened.
 
    "'Cos then I get to take over as lead guitarist for the band!" Iero grinned. "Bigger pay check."
 
    "Bigger ego, more like." The brown haired man snorted.
 
    "Well, that too."
 
    Toro rolled his eyes and pulled he headphones back on (they had fallen off when he'd been scared).
 
    "How's the album coming along then?" Gerard finally stopped laughing enough to compose himself and ask.
 
    "Quite well actually," Ray nodded. "I've tweaked some chords and vocals, so if we re-record them, I'd say we're eighty seven point two per cent done. I do think we'll need another track though."
 
    "Where does the extra two per cent come from?" Frank leaned over to ask.
 
    The other guitarist pushed him back. "From you being too lazy to fill in the over point eight!"
 
    "Hey, that's not fair!" He whined. "Gerard, back me up here!"
 
    "Well let's hear what we've got so far." The singer came forward into the studio. It wasn't really designed for any more than two people, and both of the available seats were filled so Gerard just sat on Frank's lap. The man looked surprised but didn't protest. He did, however, give Toro the finger when the older man waggled his eyebrows at him in a suggestive way. 
 
    They spent the remaining two hours (they got stuck in a traffic jam that added an extra half hour to the journey) in the studio, going over the new music for their CD, and getting unreasonably excited - as though they hadn't already been through the process four times already. The new album was going to be amazing, they could feel it.
 
    When they arrived at the hotel, they picked up Mikey - who was still stressing over his laptop - and dumped their bags inside. Really, it didn't make that much difference being in a hotel room; the buses they got these days were that nice. But it was always pleasant to have a proper shower, without fear of the hot water running out, or a band mate having to come in and piss. On top of that, none of them had to suffer Ray's snoring when they were all in separate rooms. 
 
    After ten or eleven minutes spent just to regain the feeling of being human, the band and their crew set off to the nearest restaurant. 
 
    "Did you actually get connected in the end, Mikes?" Gerard questioned as they walked. All four of them had their hoods up as they were heading north and the weather was getting colder. Plus, they had the added advantage of not being recognized by rabid fan girls. 
 
    "No. Shitty internet." 
 
    Frank laughed. "See?! I'm always saying that the internet is a waste of time. You should just use a phone."
 
    "But it costs so much!" Mikey whined.
 
    "Like you honestly have to worry about money." The guitarist rolled his eyes.
 
    "Hey, just 'cos we're not all determined to spend every bill we make."
 
    "I'm not either! But, seriously, it's not that big a deal, one phone call."
 
    "Whatever Frank."
 
    When they finally got there, the restaurant was nice enough - a little fast food place clearly designed for people travelling, such as themselves. Although the man at the front desk did look a little surprised to have a party of over twenty arrive with no previous warning. Gerard rolled his eyes at that - you'd have thought someone would have been organized enough to give the place a heads up.
 
    They were seated soon enough though, and the four men sat around a table together with their new drummer and a few of the members of their crew. The usual chatting about shows, and albums, and the crazy things they had seen fans do over the past few days went on; until Frank got into an argument with the waitress about not offering enough vegetarian options. He apparently was refusing to eat a burger without the burger, which was the only option they had for a veggie whom was craving burgers.
 
    Eventually they sorted something out though, and the rest of the meal continued peacefully enough. Halfway through, Gerard's phone rung, and he insisted going out side to talk on it. He said it was because of the noise in the restaurant, but after overhearing his earlier conversation, Frank wasn't so sure. Then the band made their way back to their various hotel rooms, ready for a good night's sleep. The guitarist stayed outside for a few minutes to have a quick smoke, then collected his key card and bag from reception and made his way up to his room for the night.
 
    In said place, Iero sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. He wasn't exactly vain, but after having put on so much weight when touring with Leathermouth, he was kinda self-conscious about his stomach. Especially being around the Way brothers so much, who, as he'd previously noted, were sticks.
 
    He was looking okay though, at least in his eyes, so he stripped off and got in the shower. It was such an amazing feeling - being clean after living in his own grime for the last three days. It was a symptom of travelling around in a bus: (or a van for that matter) smelling so bad. But Frank loved his lifestyle and wouldn't give it up for the world. 
 
    After a few minutes of indulging in the free soaps and hot water, he towelled himself dry and got in to bed. The sheets were cool and clean around him, and the guitarist drifted off to sleep in minutes.
 
    Or at least, he would have, if not for the noises from the room adjoining his. Right when Frank was balancing on the cusp of sleep, a groan caused him to jerk firmly back into consciousness. For a few seconds he thought it was a noise of distress, of pain. Then another came, and he realized with a sickening jolt that it was the sound of someone getting off. Or more to the point, of two people getting off.
 
    Iero growled - seriously, he had nothing against having sex, but did people have to be so Goddamned noisy? Seriously, how loud must they be being in order to penetrate the hotel walls, which from Frank's experience, were usually pretty sound proof? After a few seconds it wasn't a problem anymore, and the guitarist closed his eyes again, ready to sink in to sleep.
 
    Then the headboard in the noisy room started to bang again the wall near his head. Of-fucking-course. He did not need this shit, he just needed a good night's sleep. Why the hell did he have to choose the room with a couple of horny idiots in the one next to it? It was just typical.
 
    In a fit of rage, Frank sat up and pounded a few times on the wall at the top of his bed. There was silence for a few seconds in which he took the opportunity to shout "Shut the fuck up! Some people actually wanna sleep. If you're gonna fuck do it on the roof, where no one can hear you!"
 
    More silence.
 
    Then: "Awww, man you're just jealous - sure you don't wanna join in?" It was a man's voice, and despite the words being slightly muffled, the cockiness in them was clear.
 
    "Don't think you'd handle me!" Frank yelled back, before banging on the wall one last time and settling down. He didn't exactly expect there not to be any more noise; surely no one that full of themselves would actually shut up at someone else's request.
 
    But surprisingly, the couple did remain quiet for the rest of the night, and if they didn't, Frank was long asleep by that point anyway.
 
    He woke up in the morning to the sound of banging at his door.
 
    "Hey, Iero! Get your arse up! We got a show in eleven hours!"
 
    Frank groaned, but rolled out of bed obligingly. After another quick shower, brushing his teeth and pulling on his clean clothes, he was ready to go. By coincidence, he happened to leave his room at the exact same time Gerard did.
 
    The singer was dressed all in black, which wasn't surprising since he'd been wearing that color almost exclusively since his teens. He also had a bit of eye-liner smeared around those green orbs, which was slightly surprising, but only because it wasn't a style he'd sported in a while. What shocked Frank, was the room he was emerging from - it was the one next to Iero's own, from which all the noise was coming from last night.
 
    The guitarist stared in shock at his friend for a few seconds, before the latter blushed, ducked his head and scurried away down the corridor.
 
    Frank just stood there in shock, his brain trying to process the information that somehow didn't make any sense. It was Gerard making the noise last night. Not the one shouting perhaps, but certainly... he'd been having sex. And with another man. Iero was suddenly consumed with an urge to throw up.











Ooooh - the plot thickens! What are you thinking? Yes? No? There are actually two ways this could go at the moment in my mind, and I'm not sure which I'll choose yet. Not telling you what they are though! ...Well, I suppose I will, but in the story, not now.

R&R lovies?

Sx