Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 19
[ A/N:Yes, it's late I know, I'm sorry, I'm a terrible person. I feel so bad, I'm not even that happy with this chapter, I just wanted to give you something. CatscaFlyy, you even managed to write TWO chapters before I even wrote the third paragraph. Aaahhh, enjoy anyway and try not to hate me too much.]
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His hand twitched in his pocket as they walked. Gerard was smiling secretly to himself, his face half doused in shadow and Frank occupied himself with wondering why. New Jersey on a Saturday night was fun, but midtown New Jersey was even better and Frank took it as his mission to show his companion just why.
Here was the place where the misfits went, where the punk gangs brawled and the high school emos tried their first fix and got laid between the dustbins of a parking lot by some hooker in leather and spikes. Hell, Frank could have said he even recognised some of these lowlifes; the regulars in sweaty Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirts still living the life on the back of their motorcycles with their ‘babe’ clinging to their wastes – sure, she was missing a few teeth but she thought he was cool and that was all he cared about.
Frank looked over at Gerard staring profoundly at a figure dressed in a red leather trench coat and dog collar stepping out of a Matrix themed strip-club. He grinned.
“So this is where you disappear to at night?” Gerard murmured dubiously.
“Relax,” Frank chuckled. “It’s not all bad. Sure, you have some questionable characters about but at least it’s got character. I mean, would you rather go Uptown where the high school Prom Queen is being hauled off the streets by her daddy’s security guards because she was caught trying to run away with Johnnie on his scooter?”
Gerard looked at him amusedly. “You stoned?”
“Mildly.”
They turned a corner and dodged a fight between two skin heads. When Gerard looked back at them again one had the other pressed to a street lamp with their mouths glued together in a rough, almost violent tussle. This time he laughed out loud. “I used to go here all the time, y’know.”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding.”
“Sure,” Gerard smiled reminiscently. “Back in high school. Used to go to the bar down on 27th. You know the one with-”
“-With all the graffiti?” Frank finished enthusiastically. “That was there when you were in high school?”
“That was there when my dad was in high school.”
“Awesome.” They stopped at the end of the road outside a small flat squatted bar with scuffed red brick walls and a flickering sign saying, ‘The Grunge House’. A feeling of nostalgia caught Frank in the gut as the muffled sound of the band inside’s screeching metallic guitars vibrated through the walls and the ground, and when he reached his hand out and pushed open the door the sound hit them with full force.
Inside ‘crowded’ was an understatement, he realised; they weaved their way through the throng of piercings, tattoos and the occasional Mohawk threatening to take your eye out, the smell of beer, weed and sweat clinging to their skin as soon as they entered. Frank was pleased he had chosen the attire that he had – black shirt with the sleeves ripped off – from previous experiences resulting in a lot of uncomfortable sweating which just caused a crappy night, and looked over at Gerard’s leather jacket and tight jeans sympathetically. Tonight wasn’t going to be crappy for Gerard, not if he could help it. A few winks and wolf whistles from girls in tight leather skirts were directed at him but it only made him giggle inside and edge closer to his companion, so close he could feel Gerard’s breath on his ear and making him shiver involuntarily.
The Grunge House was a place for boozing, sleazing and crappy neighbourhood band’s to come up and play a relatively tolerable show; if they were harder than the beer bottles tossed at them from the crowd. Most of the shows were kids off the street who somehow got their hands on a guitar and could scrape their way through a few Nirvana classics – Frank had even had his fair share of the stage a couple nights – but here it didn’t matter how many power chords you could strum because it was one of the few places where the sheer passion and adolescent hunger for rock kept the beer in people’s glasses and electricity in the crappy amps. The band playing tonight was the perfect example for this.
“Are you kidding me?!” Gerard yelled over the pounding bass, gesturing to the stage and moving his beer clutched hand away from someone jumping up and down next to him.
“I know!” Frank screeched back gleefully. Gerard grinned back and the blues and greens of the spot lights caught in his eyes, illuminating the back of his lenses. He swigged the last of his drink.
They edged through the crowd into the throbbing mess of people, Frank enthusiastically jumping up and down in a very loyal way whilst Gerard reservedly tapped his feet and with an occasional nod of the head. One song turned into two, two turned into three and three turned into nine until finally Frank was getting dizzy and lightheaded so he staggered out and resorted back to alcohol instead.
Gerard huffed, letting his head flop down onto the counter that was sticky with spilt beer and gum. He was flushed pink and heaving, his sweaty hair pushed back off his forehead, looking more like a sophomore on spring break than a 27 year old trying to unwind.
“Easy there Scrooge, you might end up enjoying yourself,” Frank replied, mouth twisting playfully.
Gerard shot him a glare and straightened up and he smiled to himself, looking around the rest of the room. The band onstage had left and had been replaced by a cross dresser by the stage name of ‘Miso Honey’ singing and dancing ‘It’s Raining Men’ in a gravelly, grating voice. He shivered and returned to be greeted by the sight of Gerard smiling coyly and gesturing to numerous shots of a bright blue liquid before them. He frowned.
“What?” Gerard said. “I’m ‘unwinding’.”
Frank smirked. “Just didn’t think you’d be that easy.”
Gerard winked at him as he raised the alcohol to his lips. “You’re not the only one who aims to surprise.”
Something skipped in Frank’s stomach at the older man’s shining eyes and the drops of sweat sliding ever so seductively down the dip of his neck. He swallowed a lump in his throat and followed it with a shot, then another because one just couldn’t keep his mind off the heat in his pants.
The night drew on and so did the bill, as the two worked their way through a number of shots Frank couldn’t care to count and then some more beer and some other things his fuzzy mind fought with.
And with every glass that little bubble of happiness in his chest that only came on rare occasions grew to the size of a balloon, he swore, and so what if Miso Honey was creeping him out?, and so what if there was a chance he’d never get into college?, soon, all that went away because he was here, now, in the Grunge House with Gerard and he was happy for a change.
“M-more…” Gerard slurred to the barman.
“I think you’ve had enough,” the barman replied righteously.
“S-screw that, I tell you when I’ve had enough!”
“Sorry, man,” said the barman, already turning his attention away to a hen party ordering apple martinis. “Maybe you two should go home, before you cause any damage.”
Gerard grumbled darkly to himself as he staggered off his seat before promptly collapsing into a crumpled heap on the sticky floor. Frank giggled from where he sat slumped against the bar with his face pressed against the counter top.
“What happened?” Gerard said dazedly. Frank slipped off the stool and helped him up off the floor. They began a slow and dizzy stumble to the front entrance, or back, he couldn’t tell, bumping into many a girlfriend and avoiding fights with their overprotective partners. The coolness outside compared to the clammy heat of the club slapped them around the faces as they stepped out, and once back onto the street Frank let go of Gerard and allowed him to fall like a stone to the ground.
“Uhnnn….” His groans were muffled against the sidewalk. “I hate…alcohol…”
“Come on…” Frank grabbed his arm and hauled him onto his feet.
“Where we going now?” Gerard slurred. They started walking slowly down the road, the sidewalk snaking beneath Frank’s feet. He led them round a few corners and down another road, until – completely without realising it – he found that they were headed towards the park.
It was as much a dump in the dark as it was in the day, the footpaths illuminated by bright orange street lamps above them, the occasional shadow of a tree casting parts in darkness. A cool breeze tingled their faces and Frank wondered what time it was, if time hadn’t completely stopped like it always felt it did when he was with Gerard. They reached a secluded forest-like area near the swings and pretended not to notice the heap of plastic bags containing somewhat unsightly things.
He smiled to himself. He hadn’t been to this park in years.
“So, Frank,” Gerard began. “Frankum. Frankie. Francis.”
“Yes, Gerard?”
“Why are you hiding from your future?”
“What do you mean?”
“College?”
Frank sighed and lay down. “College doesn’t like me.”
“Sure it does, give it some time, it’ll come around,” Gerard replied, falling a little less gracefully next to him. They both giggled.
“Suurrsly,” he continued. His eyelids drooped a little. “You can’t go your whole life blaming other people! Trust me, I’ve tried!”
“Everything I do is wrong,” Frank whined, letting his head flop onto the older man’s shoulder. “I’m a failure. I should just go drown myself or something…end my mother’s misery…”
They were both silent for a beat of a second before erupting into another fit of giggles. Their laughter echoed around the dark empty park, and Frank realised how alone they both were, just the two of them lying in the grass talking like idiots and staring at the star speckled sky and he smiled because maybe he preferred it this way.
Maybe I’m not alone, he thought, looking across at the chuckling figure beside him. Not anymore.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Why haven’t you got a job or whatever?” Frank rolled onto his side. “I mean you could be whatever you wanna be…so why don’t you?”
Gerard twisted his lips like he was sucking on a piece of candy. “S’not that easy. You of all people should know that.”
“You could be a teacher,” Frank continued, smiling. “I know for a fact you’d be one hell of a lot better than my old art teacher.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know…not too good with kids, I guess.”
“You’re good with me.”
Gerard snorted and raised an eyebrow. Shadows lingered under his prominent cheek bones. “C’mon, you’re pretty much my age, and way more mature. You’re an adult now, you gotta start being responsible for things like…I dunno…parking tickets.”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“I’d like to go to New York. I got some good memories from art school there. Someday, maybe…I don’t know. Not sure if Linds would wanna move again, I mean, so much effort has gone into staying here, right? Wouldn’t wanna drop another bombshell on her goddamn fragile being.”
Frank shrugged. “She didn’t seem too bad.”
Gerard made a neutral movement with his head, before a scowl darkened his face. He sighed. “I don’t know…it’s weird. She’s weird. All she does is whine. She’s all, ‘Do this, Gerard! Do that, Gerard! Oh Gerard, why did I drop outta art school to marry you when I could’ve had a family with that ginger kid from Starbucks?!”
"You don't want kids?"
"It's a scary concept." Gerard's lips twisted like he was chewing candy again. "I was never much of an asset to my old family, what makes this time any different?"
He had a point, Frank admitted. He looked back to find Gerard was edging closer to him, his face inches away from his. That same thing skipped in Frank’s stomach as the orange of the street lamp above them shone on Gerard’s lips, perfect lips, and his big gleaming eyes seemed even bigger up close. “You’re so pretty, Frank,” he said, so quiet his lips barely moved and Frank wondered if it really only was the alcohol talking.
Frank tilted his head and looked at the lips in front of him, wet with saliva and glistening against the lamplight and for some reason wondered whether he should kiss them, simply because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. He imagined what they’d feel like against his, and if the slight rough patches around the edges, the tell-tale signs of past eczema would feel as course as they looked, or if Gerard would tilt his head right or left when he kissed him back – if he kissed him back at all. He thought if it would send that skipping thing go into overdrive inside him, send his head higher than the clouds and swelling with elation, or how like in the movies when one little kiss could change everything; all those tiny niggling thoughts that reminded him that really he was just a little kid with a stupid crush on his neighbour.
“Prettiest girl I ever met!” Then Gerard giggled to himself again and rolled away onto his back, started whistling the Star Trek theme tune and just like that the moment was gone.
And when the whistling had stopped and Frank turned to look at him a few moments later he found him fast asleep with half his face lit up by the lamplight. So he snuggled up next to him and closed his eyes and for just once all his problems disappeared; all the college applications and the drugs under his bed and how the grass was starting to twinge his hay fever and make his eye’s water and the fact that he had absolutely no directions for the path he was headed went away. That night he had the first dream he had had in a long time.
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[A/N: So there you have it, about a month and a half's worth of waiting amounted to this. Feedback is muchly appreciated, tell me if it's as much as a let down as I thought it was :P Depending on the amount of reviews the next chapter will be up soon because I feel bad, I promise. (Yes I know, I tend to throw that word around quite casually these days, but I mean it this time, I really do....)
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His hand twitched in his pocket as they walked. Gerard was smiling secretly to himself, his face half doused in shadow and Frank occupied himself with wondering why. New Jersey on a Saturday night was fun, but midtown New Jersey was even better and Frank took it as his mission to show his companion just why.
Here was the place where the misfits went, where the punk gangs brawled and the high school emos tried their first fix and got laid between the dustbins of a parking lot by some hooker in leather and spikes. Hell, Frank could have said he even recognised some of these lowlifes; the regulars in sweaty Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirts still living the life on the back of their motorcycles with their ‘babe’ clinging to their wastes – sure, she was missing a few teeth but she thought he was cool and that was all he cared about.
Frank looked over at Gerard staring profoundly at a figure dressed in a red leather trench coat and dog collar stepping out of a Matrix themed strip-club. He grinned.
“So this is where you disappear to at night?” Gerard murmured dubiously.
“Relax,” Frank chuckled. “It’s not all bad. Sure, you have some questionable characters about but at least it’s got character. I mean, would you rather go Uptown where the high school Prom Queen is being hauled off the streets by her daddy’s security guards because she was caught trying to run away with Johnnie on his scooter?”
Gerard looked at him amusedly. “You stoned?”
“Mildly.”
They turned a corner and dodged a fight between two skin heads. When Gerard looked back at them again one had the other pressed to a street lamp with their mouths glued together in a rough, almost violent tussle. This time he laughed out loud. “I used to go here all the time, y’know.”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding.”
“Sure,” Gerard smiled reminiscently. “Back in high school. Used to go to the bar down on 27th. You know the one with-”
“-With all the graffiti?” Frank finished enthusiastically. “That was there when you were in high school?”
“That was there when my dad was in high school.”
“Awesome.” They stopped at the end of the road outside a small flat squatted bar with scuffed red brick walls and a flickering sign saying, ‘The Grunge House’. A feeling of nostalgia caught Frank in the gut as the muffled sound of the band inside’s screeching metallic guitars vibrated through the walls and the ground, and when he reached his hand out and pushed open the door the sound hit them with full force.
Inside ‘crowded’ was an understatement, he realised; they weaved their way through the throng of piercings, tattoos and the occasional Mohawk threatening to take your eye out, the smell of beer, weed and sweat clinging to their skin as soon as they entered. Frank was pleased he had chosen the attire that he had – black shirt with the sleeves ripped off – from previous experiences resulting in a lot of uncomfortable sweating which just caused a crappy night, and looked over at Gerard’s leather jacket and tight jeans sympathetically. Tonight wasn’t going to be crappy for Gerard, not if he could help it. A few winks and wolf whistles from girls in tight leather skirts were directed at him but it only made him giggle inside and edge closer to his companion, so close he could feel Gerard’s breath on his ear and making him shiver involuntarily.
The Grunge House was a place for boozing, sleazing and crappy neighbourhood band’s to come up and play a relatively tolerable show; if they were harder than the beer bottles tossed at them from the crowd. Most of the shows were kids off the street who somehow got their hands on a guitar and could scrape their way through a few Nirvana classics – Frank had even had his fair share of the stage a couple nights – but here it didn’t matter how many power chords you could strum because it was one of the few places where the sheer passion and adolescent hunger for rock kept the beer in people’s glasses and electricity in the crappy amps. The band playing tonight was the perfect example for this.
“Are you kidding me?!” Gerard yelled over the pounding bass, gesturing to the stage and moving his beer clutched hand away from someone jumping up and down next to him.
“I know!” Frank screeched back gleefully. Gerard grinned back and the blues and greens of the spot lights caught in his eyes, illuminating the back of his lenses. He swigged the last of his drink.
They edged through the crowd into the throbbing mess of people, Frank enthusiastically jumping up and down in a very loyal way whilst Gerard reservedly tapped his feet and with an occasional nod of the head. One song turned into two, two turned into three and three turned into nine until finally Frank was getting dizzy and lightheaded so he staggered out and resorted back to alcohol instead.
Gerard huffed, letting his head flop down onto the counter that was sticky with spilt beer and gum. He was flushed pink and heaving, his sweaty hair pushed back off his forehead, looking more like a sophomore on spring break than a 27 year old trying to unwind.
“Easy there Scrooge, you might end up enjoying yourself,” Frank replied, mouth twisting playfully.
Gerard shot him a glare and straightened up and he smiled to himself, looking around the rest of the room. The band onstage had left and had been replaced by a cross dresser by the stage name of ‘Miso Honey’ singing and dancing ‘It’s Raining Men’ in a gravelly, grating voice. He shivered and returned to be greeted by the sight of Gerard smiling coyly and gesturing to numerous shots of a bright blue liquid before them. He frowned.
“What?” Gerard said. “I’m ‘unwinding’.”
Frank smirked. “Just didn’t think you’d be that easy.”
Gerard winked at him as he raised the alcohol to his lips. “You’re not the only one who aims to surprise.”
Something skipped in Frank’s stomach at the older man’s shining eyes and the drops of sweat sliding ever so seductively down the dip of his neck. He swallowed a lump in his throat and followed it with a shot, then another because one just couldn’t keep his mind off the heat in his pants.
The night drew on and so did the bill, as the two worked their way through a number of shots Frank couldn’t care to count and then some more beer and some other things his fuzzy mind fought with.
And with every glass that little bubble of happiness in his chest that only came on rare occasions grew to the size of a balloon, he swore, and so what if Miso Honey was creeping him out?, and so what if there was a chance he’d never get into college?, soon, all that went away because he was here, now, in the Grunge House with Gerard and he was happy for a change.
“M-more…” Gerard slurred to the barman.
“I think you’ve had enough,” the barman replied righteously.
“S-screw that, I tell you when I’ve had enough!”
“Sorry, man,” said the barman, already turning his attention away to a hen party ordering apple martinis. “Maybe you two should go home, before you cause any damage.”
Gerard grumbled darkly to himself as he staggered off his seat before promptly collapsing into a crumpled heap on the sticky floor. Frank giggled from where he sat slumped against the bar with his face pressed against the counter top.
“What happened?” Gerard said dazedly. Frank slipped off the stool and helped him up off the floor. They began a slow and dizzy stumble to the front entrance, or back, he couldn’t tell, bumping into many a girlfriend and avoiding fights with their overprotective partners. The coolness outside compared to the clammy heat of the club slapped them around the faces as they stepped out, and once back onto the street Frank let go of Gerard and allowed him to fall like a stone to the ground.
“Uhnnn….” His groans were muffled against the sidewalk. “I hate…alcohol…”
“Come on…” Frank grabbed his arm and hauled him onto his feet.
“Where we going now?” Gerard slurred. They started walking slowly down the road, the sidewalk snaking beneath Frank’s feet. He led them round a few corners and down another road, until – completely without realising it – he found that they were headed towards the park.
It was as much a dump in the dark as it was in the day, the footpaths illuminated by bright orange street lamps above them, the occasional shadow of a tree casting parts in darkness. A cool breeze tingled their faces and Frank wondered what time it was, if time hadn’t completely stopped like it always felt it did when he was with Gerard. They reached a secluded forest-like area near the swings and pretended not to notice the heap of plastic bags containing somewhat unsightly things.
He smiled to himself. He hadn’t been to this park in years.
“So, Frank,” Gerard began. “Frankum. Frankie. Francis.”
“Yes, Gerard?”
“Why are you hiding from your future?”
“What do you mean?”
“College?”
Frank sighed and lay down. “College doesn’t like me.”
“Sure it does, give it some time, it’ll come around,” Gerard replied, falling a little less gracefully next to him. They both giggled.
“Suurrsly,” he continued. His eyelids drooped a little. “You can’t go your whole life blaming other people! Trust me, I’ve tried!”
“Everything I do is wrong,” Frank whined, letting his head flop onto the older man’s shoulder. “I’m a failure. I should just go drown myself or something…end my mother’s misery…”
They were both silent for a beat of a second before erupting into another fit of giggles. Their laughter echoed around the dark empty park, and Frank realised how alone they both were, just the two of them lying in the grass talking like idiots and staring at the star speckled sky and he smiled because maybe he preferred it this way.
Maybe I’m not alone, he thought, looking across at the chuckling figure beside him. Not anymore.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Why haven’t you got a job or whatever?” Frank rolled onto his side. “I mean you could be whatever you wanna be…so why don’t you?”
Gerard twisted his lips like he was sucking on a piece of candy. “S’not that easy. You of all people should know that.”
“You could be a teacher,” Frank continued, smiling. “I know for a fact you’d be one hell of a lot better than my old art teacher.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know…not too good with kids, I guess.”
“You’re good with me.”
Gerard snorted and raised an eyebrow. Shadows lingered under his prominent cheek bones. “C’mon, you’re pretty much my age, and way more mature. You’re an adult now, you gotta start being responsible for things like…I dunno…parking tickets.”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“I’d like to go to New York. I got some good memories from art school there. Someday, maybe…I don’t know. Not sure if Linds would wanna move again, I mean, so much effort has gone into staying here, right? Wouldn’t wanna drop another bombshell on her goddamn fragile being.”
Frank shrugged. “She didn’t seem too bad.”
Gerard made a neutral movement with his head, before a scowl darkened his face. He sighed. “I don’t know…it’s weird. She’s weird. All she does is whine. She’s all, ‘Do this, Gerard! Do that, Gerard! Oh Gerard, why did I drop outta art school to marry you when I could’ve had a family with that ginger kid from Starbucks?!”
"You don't want kids?"
"It's a scary concept." Gerard's lips twisted like he was chewing candy again. "I was never much of an asset to my old family, what makes this time any different?"
He had a point, Frank admitted. He looked back to find Gerard was edging closer to him, his face inches away from his. That same thing skipped in Frank’s stomach as the orange of the street lamp above them shone on Gerard’s lips, perfect lips, and his big gleaming eyes seemed even bigger up close. “You’re so pretty, Frank,” he said, so quiet his lips barely moved and Frank wondered if it really only was the alcohol talking.
Frank tilted his head and looked at the lips in front of him, wet with saliva and glistening against the lamplight and for some reason wondered whether he should kiss them, simply because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. He imagined what they’d feel like against his, and if the slight rough patches around the edges, the tell-tale signs of past eczema would feel as course as they looked, or if Gerard would tilt his head right or left when he kissed him back – if he kissed him back at all. He thought if it would send that skipping thing go into overdrive inside him, send his head higher than the clouds and swelling with elation, or how like in the movies when one little kiss could change everything; all those tiny niggling thoughts that reminded him that really he was just a little kid with a stupid crush on his neighbour.
“Prettiest girl I ever met!” Then Gerard giggled to himself again and rolled away onto his back, started whistling the Star Trek theme tune and just like that the moment was gone.
And when the whistling had stopped and Frank turned to look at him a few moments later he found him fast asleep with half his face lit up by the lamplight. So he snuggled up next to him and closed his eyes and for just once all his problems disappeared; all the college applications and the drugs under his bed and how the grass was starting to twinge his hay fever and make his eye’s water and the fact that he had absolutely no directions for the path he was headed went away. That night he had the first dream he had had in a long time.
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[A/N: So there you have it, about a month and a half's worth of waiting amounted to this. Feedback is muchly appreciated, tell me if it's as much as a let down as I thought it was :P Depending on the amount of reviews the next chapter will be up soon because I feel bad, I promise. (Yes I know, I tend to throw that word around quite casually these days, but I mean it this time, I really do....)
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