Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > All the Lies in the Books

4. They Got Methods of Keeping You Clean.

by ThanksChemVenom 7 reviews

Hey do concussions taste like blood? Because if they do I think I have one. (Title from Teenagers)

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres:  - Published: 2012-06-13 - Updated: 2012-08-27 - 1703 words


Frank's POV:

By the time everyone had introduced themselves, I had already felt a wave of drowsy comfort wash over me. Trying my hardest not to fall asleep head in hand sitting on the cabin floor, I scrambled over to my bunk as soon as I could.

No one had really stuck out to me during introductions.

Except one.

The Misfits one.


He was a pretty one, from what I could tell, which was only a few stolen glances here and there.

Things might not be so bad with guys like him around.

After rolling onto the springy mattress, I pulled out one of the Harry Potter books, /my favorite/. It only took me a few minutes to fall asleep face-down atop my book, drooling into the land of wizards and Quidditch and dragons.

I was awoken by a bouncing on my bed, and someone shouting, "FRANKFURTER, TIME FOR DINNER! RISE AND SHINE SAUSAGEHEAD!"

Startled, I jumped, but laying down isn't really the best position to that, so I ended up flailing wildly off the bed, to hit the floor with a clunk! and the promise of bruising.

Groaning, I sat up slowly, the room still wavering around me.

"'Furter?" Bob, also the apparent shouter questioned.

"You okay?"

"Uh, yea, I guess... Hey do concussions taste like blood? Because if they do I think I have one." I half jokingly asked, stumbling to a stand. I rolled my tongue around in the metallic taste in my mouth, concluding it was pouring out of my cheek.

"Oh shit. Listen, I'm really sorry, the bathroom is right there, and there's toilet paper if you want some. I mean, I could report this to Ms. Abramesco..." Bob trailed off.

"NGGHH!" I exclaimed, wanting to avoid her as much as possible, words tripping over the wadded up tissue in my mouth.

I yanked it out, smacking my tongue against the uncomfortable cotton dry gums, and repeated, "NO!"

"Okay, I wouldn't either, but just a suggestion." Bob said, standing up from my bunk, and stating towards the door.

"Joining us at dinner?" he questioned.

I hesitantly made my way across the now empty cabin, walking side by side with Bob to the "cafeteria" on the other side of camp.

The cafeteria was a blindingly lit building, about as big as 2 classrooms put together. I had to blink the white out of my eyes in order to see that there was a kitchen attached to it, leading out to a small serving line, similar to a school cafeteria.

Bob led me over to a line, just to receive a goopy, half hearted attempt at "spaghetti."

"Really? I could cook better than this." I mumbled to Bob over my growling stomach.

"At least they didn't try making tuna casserole again."


"We can get something real to eat back in the cabin, and I'm pretty sure anything mildly edible is better than this." Bob lamented.

"Well then this cooking might beat mine. really, I burn everything and call it Cajun." I said, not really joking.

"I love Cajun food, you'll have to cook for me sometime." Bob responded, taking a seat at a table with the other boys from our cabin.

I flushed a bright red, not really certain he was flirting or not.

"Erm.. well..."

"Okay everyone, time for our evening prayer!" Mrs. Abramesco announced to everyone from accross the room.

"Our dear Lord ," began Mrs. Abramesco, and I saw heads begin to be lowered around the room. Everyone else did the same, rolling their eyes and bowing their heads. "We thank You for the enlightening opportunity to come together with these young men and assist them with cleansing their souls and minds and bringing them closer to You. We pray that you may accept their sins and forgive them, knowing that they will learn what they have done wrong. We are all grateful for the food we have to nourish and strengthen our bodies. In Your precious name, Amen.


"Frank can you pass the salt, please." Gerard suddenly interrupted.


Gerard's POV:

Frank smiled shyly, holding out a hand towards me.

"Here you go."

I leaned forward to grab the salt, watching as a pink flush began to creep up his neck. Our fingers touched for a millisecond, and it felt as if a jolt of fizzing electricity shot through me.

I blinked a couple of times, pulling my hand back before looking into Frank's eyes to see the stunned expression there.

He felt that too.


Frank's POV:

I bit back a gasp as our fingers brushed, pulling away as quickly as possible without sending salt all over the table. I had no idea what had just happened, but I knew Gerard had felt it too. And right now, I didn't want to know what it was, because I knew whatever had just happened had the potential to crack my resolve and change everything in an instant.

I turned away, desperately searching for something, anything to distract me.

Jumping to my feet, I quickly rambled an excuse, "Well,mystomachisreallyhurtingandIfeelsick.SoI'mjustgonnagobacktoourcabin. Ok?"

Not bothering to glance at their bewildered faces, I leapt from my bench and jogged out the door.

As soon as I was out the cafeteria door, I broke out into a full run.

I wanted to run away from him.

From his eyes.

From his shocking electricity.

From my weakness.


Gerard's POV:

After a few minutes of listening to everyone pointlessly banter, my curiosity won me over, and I got up from the table and dumped my food (if you can call it that) and quickly walked out the door.

"Gee, where ya going?" I head Bob ask loudly from the tale.

I dismissed him with a wave of my hand, pushed the door open and briskly walked back to our bunks.

Sauntering through the door, I saw Frank sitting on his bottom bunk, headphones on and unashamedly singing his heart out.


Smiling to my self, I ambled over to his bed, plunking down next to him.

Franks russet eyes sprang open instantly, "Shit!" he yelled.

Scrambling upright with disheveled hair, Frank yanked his earphones, Beastie Boys still pouring at full blast through the tinny speakers.

"Er- uhm... I was just-" Frank tripped over his words, slouching in on himself like the sweater sloppily sliding off of his shoulder.

"Frankie, you've got a great voice." I announced.

Where did that come from?

Whatever, it's true.

"Wow, I didn't even notice you came in here. Sorry." Frank responded timidly shrinking back. "But thank you." he finished.

"No problem." I smiled back at him, forcing a small half grin out of Frank. "You do know that we aren't allowed to have electronics here, right?" I continued.

Frank nodded, "Yeah, I stuck this under my mattress as soon as we got here. There's no way I could live without my music."

"Same here, I smuggled my guitar and brought decoy phones and everything!" I exclaimed, forgetting just how much I had missed the feel of voice and string mixing.

"I play guitar too, but I'm more of a guitarist myself. I also write a lot of my own songs." Frank remarked, the last bit fading out as if he regretted saying it as soon as it left his mouth.

"We should-" I began.

Bob knocked oped the door, entering along with all of our other cabinmates.

Frank recoiled, caught by surprise, shoved his Ipod under his mattress and rolled back onto it, cutting me off.

I sighed, knowing that our conversation wasn't going to go any further with everyone else in the room.

I walked back over to the door, locking it and any of the evil counselors out, flipped open my guitar case and pulled out my guitar.

Hello there baby, been a while.

Serenaded by the sounds of teenage boys getting ready for bed, I began easily strumming and improvising lyrics.

Well I was there on the day
They sold the cause for the queen,
And when the lights all went out
We watched our lives on the screen.
I hate the ending myself,
But it started with an alright scene.

I paused every few verses, mentally revising the lyrics. By the time the boys had flicked the lights off, I already had the song done and memorized.

In the blackness of our moonlit cabin, I repeated the song once all the way through before cramming the guitar back into it's case and squeezed under my bunk.

Turning over and nuzzling into the X men blanket I brought from home.


Franks POV:

My head was swirling in a merry go round of incessant thoughts, all revolving around one beautiful blonde haired boy a few beds away from me.

He doesn't want you anyway.

No one does.

I tried to ignore the biting thoughts bouncing around my head, but they clouded my thoughts.

I was staggering mindlessly around in a mental mist, and then I heard him sing.


It was Gerard.

When that boy said he could sing, he meant he could SING.

I kept trying to kick him from my mind, desperatley writhing to make his stupid, perfect voice leave.

Bob switched off the lights, making his way across to his bed.

I settled under the blankets, and I could hear the sound of Gerard starting up his song again.

"Goodnight guys." Bob's voice floated across the room quietly.

"G'Night," Mikey murmured, clearly already half asleep.

I listened for a moment, trying to ignore the slithering pit of warmth in my stomach Gerard's voice made swell with happiness.

After a few seconds, I gave in, allowing his crooning voice to make my eyelids droop heavily down like velvet curtains losing on a hazel stage.

"Goodnight," I whispered into the darkness.

I was sent to sleep by Gerard's song, a final farewell to the day.

You're just a sad song with nothing to say
About a lifelong wait for a hospital stay
Well if you think that I'm wrong,
This never meant nothing to ya

At all, at all, at all, at all...

Next update will most likely be at either 2 am this morning xD or tommorow morning :)
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