FicWad

Chapter 6

Panting and out of breath, Frank slowed down gradually as he finally caught sight of Mikey, speed-walking around the corner at the end of the street. He picked up the pace once again to get closer, but not close enough to be seen. Finally slowing down once again and creeping carefully around the corner, he spotted Mikey storming into his and Gerard’s house, visibly upset and raging. The slam of the door could be heard clearly from where Frank was standing, alerting half of the neighbors that a fight was coming on.

Before he had a chance to think about what he was doing, his curiosity and concern got the better of him and he found himself jogging in the direction of the house, crossing the littered, empty street then sticking close to the wall as he tiptoed closer. Frank was determined not to be seen, he didn’t want to come off as a stalker, but, then again, he had to know if everything was alright. The growing suspicion that Gerard confessed his secret feelings for Frank to Mikey in a text message, causing Mikey to freak out, was causing his insides to knot and twist, sending a light shiver down his spine. It was becoming more and more likely. Mikey would have probably reacted strangely if he suddenly found out that his brother was gay and had a crush on his own best friend. However, Frank could remember Gerard telling him that he wasn’t, despite what had happened. That he was only drunk…

He was suddenly forced to push the though away as the first sounds of a fight flooded out of the window, directly above Frank. But he never got to hear the conversation.

“FRANK!” He knew the sound all too well. His father was standing on the other side of the street, his face like a beetroot and his powerful fists clenched in fury. Frank knew that his father would never go as far as actually punching him, but even knowing that, he felt incredibly threatened by the fists, the idea of them colliding with his pierced nose or one of his black-rimmed eyes was enough to send him into fits of panic. But he also knew very well that the roar of his father’s voice was likely to bring Gerard and Mikey to the window, where they would see him standing outside their house like a creep. There was nowhere to go. No safer option. Nothing.

As faces began to appear in the windows of several houses, Frank’s heart rate increased rapidly, his eyes darting around for a place to run. His father would cross the street eventually anyway, but Frank had to go now, and because of the way the houses were positioned, the only place he could run was towards him. It was all useless. The raging man was about to cross the street when Frank gave in and took a step in his direction, then another, until he was standing almost face to face with his father, if you didn’t count the foot-and-a-half height difference. There was no point in sulking or fighting, he just had to deal with whatever was coming. It couldn’t be that terrible. Unlike many of the parents who inhabited the neighborhood, his weren’t ones that beat their children, maybe excluding the occasional slap or tug on the arm. He was almost… lucky.

*

Storming into the house, Mikey slammed the front door with a force that caused the windows to rattle in their loose frames.

“Gerard!” He struggled to hold on to the raw rage in his voice as the lump in his throat swelled and choked him, threatening to spill heavy tears from his disappointed eyes. He’d never been this mad at his brother before, but at the same time he needed Gerard to use his brotherly powers and comfort him like he always did. It was like a closed loop. He was furious at Gerard, he needed to feel better, but Gerard had always been the only person who could cheer him up. This time Mikey had no one but himself.

After climbing the stairs, stomping his feet loudly as he did so, as if to alert everyone about his anger, he pushed the door to Gerard’s room without hesitation and stormed in, ignoring the shocked look smothered across his brother’s face.

“Mik-”

“You stole Frank!” Mikey’s face was redder than the crayon Gerard had been using before being rudely interrupted. He was panting like a dog, his fists clenched by his sides in anger. The incredulous stare his brother was giving him didn’t surprise him on bit. He knew that Gerard had never seen him like this. In fact, this was probably the first time he ever got like this.

“W-what are you talking about?” Gerard scoffed, shaking his head and eyeing Mikey curiously, a mixture of amusement and concern contaminating his eyes.

In response, Mikey threw the small, black booklet onto the floor in front of Gerard, who picked it up hesitantly, never taking his eyes off Mikey and began to flick through it.

“This looks like Frank’s journal or something, I don’t want to read Frank’s journal, it’s personal.” Gerard protested, closing the miniature book and throwing it carelessly back onto the floor.

“Alright.” The younger boy snapped, reaching for the booklet and flicking through it angrily until he found the page he wanted, handing it back to Gerard, who studied it, still in doubt about whether he should be reading his best friend’s journal or not. Eventually, he decided it would be much easier to argue with Mikey if he knew what they were arguing about. All of a sudden he blushed wildly, repeating the words he’d just read.

This guy is everything I ever wanted…

“This guy is everything I ever wanted…” He repeated once again, this time actually whispering the words under his breath. He felt his insides knotting and his cheeks flaming as he read the words he’d always wanted to hear Frank say about him, momentarily forgetting about Mikey and everything that had happened. Gerard even thought that he heard Frank’s name at one point, but realized that it was most likely all in his head He was shaken out of his trance as his brother snatched the book from his hands violently, his anger clearly building up even more inside him.

“Gerard, I actually hate you right now!” Mikey raged, tears immediately filling his eyes, enlarged through his thick glasses. “You made Frank fall for you even though you knew that I’ve liked him, like, a lot, for a long while now. And you’re straight, so the only logical explanation is that you are an asshole who is trying to sabotage me and get in the way of me and the one and only person I want to be with!”

Gerard had no idea where to begin. For starters, he still hadn’t come out and he didn’t want to do it this way. Besides, he and Mikey were so close, if he told him that he liked the same guy for longer than Mikey did, it would completely ruin everything. Sighing, he rubber his forehead and glanced up at Mikey, contemplating telling him. Eventually he sighed once again and began speaking, “Mikey, I… I-”

“The fact that you were drunk is not an excuse, you know that!” Tears were now leaking from the corners of Mikey’s eyes. Gerard wasn’t sure if he thought that Mikey was over reacting slightly, or if he was right. Though, after being cut off like that, he changed his mind and decided it was best if Mikey didn’t know just yet. He was almost sure that it would wreck his trust, but on second thought, Mikey could be very understanding and forgive him.

Completely unsure of what to do, Gerard felt his head spin. He was growing more and more angry, partly at how Mikey was acting, partly at the fact that they wanted the same person, but mostly because there was finally something that he couldn’t tell his brother. Before he could think about what he was saying, words were spilling from his mouth as he spat them angrily at Mikey. “Who are you to say what I can and cannot do? You’re just a kid who thinks he knows, but you don’t! You don’t know!” He felt his own eyes tear up as his voice shook from the lump rising in his throat. He couldn’t cry, though. Not right now. “A year and a half ago I thought I knew it all too, but now I realize that I really didn’t, and when you’re older you will realize that too!”

“There is nothing to realize!” Mikey exclaimed, pulling a face as he sighed, not sure what Gerard meant. His conscience tried to tell him that Gerard was older, and maybe he did have a point, but he pushed the thoughts away immediately. “If there is, then please explain it to me, because I have no idea!”

“Of course you don’t, that’s my point!”

“Explain you point!” The younger boy demanded, his face red and his eyes swelling.

“I-” Gerard began, but stopped when he realized that he actually couldn’t explain it. Not without telling Mikey everything… “I can’t tell you…” He finally whispered, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. There was a long pause, filled with nothing but tension, as Mikey simply stared at his brother, a mixture of fury and concern shading his angry eyes.

“Why?” He asked eventually, leaning against the closed door, arms folded, his expression stone cold as his eyes bore into Gerard in the most intimidating way possible. His tone was simple, though. Plain and straightforward.

“Well… uh- I just, well, I, uh…” Gerard stammered as Mikey raised an angry eyebrow at him. He was desperately searching for words to say, however he still didn’t want Mikey to know. Not yet, not until he was ready to tell everyone else. “Mikey, if I told you why I can’t tell you, I’d be telling you…” He trailed off in an apologetic tone.

Mikey’s gaze softened slightly. Very slightly, it wasn’t much, but at least it was some kind of sign that his anger was beginning to fade away slowly. He simply stared at his brother, his body still slumped against the door and his skinny arms still wrapped together, before finally sighing and closing his eyes to hide the worry behind them, as he muttered his response. “Whatever this big secret is… it’s something pretty big and important… right?”

Gerard was almost shocked at how Mikey hadn’t figured out what the ‘secret’ was, even with all the information he’d gathered. Though the truth was, Mikey wasn’t far from guessing. He was just pushing the thought right to the back of his mind, not wanting to overthink anything.

“It… It’s not really some big secret…” Gerard lied, trying to hide the fact that the lie had made his cheeks flaming red. “It’s more like something I just can’t explain…” He twiddled with his jet black locks shyly as his gaze remained fixed on the closed sketchbook on the floor in front of him.

“Oh” Was Mikey’s response. Forgetting completely about why all this started, he felt a silent sigh of relief brush past his lips. He didn’t want Gerard keeping secrets from him. They always told each other everything straight away. Everything.

*

Sudden déjà vu washed over Frank as his father practically reenacted the scene from yesterday, dragging him into the house and almost throwing him onto one of the moss green chairs and slamming the door violently, causing Frank to jump a foot into the air. He was scared. More than scared, he was absolutely terrified, but he just couldn’t let his father know that. Instead, he wrinkled his forehead slightly and gave him the death stare, following the man’s every movement with his eyes, like a predator preparing to stalk its prey. The only difference was, he was the prey. He was always the prey.

“When you’re grounded,” his father growled, storming up to his and grabbing hold of his left ear, “it means you’re grounded!” His voice rose to an almost deafening volume towards the end of the sentence.

Frank was clearly uncomfortable, his father right there, looming over him, twisting his reddening ear slightly in anger. He simply responded by staring, his expression stone cold and his angry eyes fixed on his father’s. He didn’t want to move, though his head eventually tilted to the left slightly in an attempt to release his ear from the man’s powerful fingers.

“Let him go! I thought I told you, not to hurt him!” Frank’s mother raged as she stormed into the room, much like the previous day, and her husband obeyed her command. Her steps were short but quick as she moved towards Frank, her expression almost more frightening than her husband’s. Behind the rage in her eyes, Frank noticed true concern and disappointment. He knew that if you took her anger away, she would probably break down in tears and demand to know what was going on with her son. Why he went from being a perfect kid, to ignoring his parents, drinking, running away, in the space of three days. She secretly blamed her husband. That time he screamed at Frank over nothing – nothing that was any of his business – may have been what caused the boy to turn against them. Because he really wasn’t okay.

The anger, though, took over her concern and she couldn’t help but yell at him. “What the hell is all this?” She snapped as she watched Frank’s eyes shift from his father and lock on her own. She too could see the true emotions behind the shell of rage. The fear and the regret, the disappointment in himself for disobeying his parents, were obvious to her as she glared at her son. The only person who had no other emotion in his eyes was Frank’s father. He was all rage and hate at the moment.

“Frank! Your mother is speaking to you! Answer her!” Frank had never heard his father’s voice like this. The volume, combined with the very short distance between them, caused Frank’s ears to ring annoyingly.

“What am I supposed to say!?” His face turned bright red as he copied his father’s tone of voice, jumping to his feet as he did so. His father stumbled backwards, clearly taken aback by his son’s new attitude. “It was a fucking rhetorical question! Right?” He screamed in his father’s face before looking expectantly at his mother, who was now standing tensely behind the chair, fidgeting with her own hands with eyes wider than Frank had ever seen them before. She responded by biting her lip, not wanting to anger either of them.

“Don’t you dare talk beck to me! And don’t you ever use that kind of language in front of me again!” Frank could tell that his father was ready to punch his face in, and he did find absolutely terrifying, but he knew that he was safe. His father would never do that, despite how Frank was acting. Although, Frank couldn’t be sure, seeing as he’d never acted this way before.

“What? You mean ‘fucking’? Because you never say it!” Frank chuckled at his own sarcasm tilting his head back as he smirked at his father. The truth was, inside he was terrified, ready to break down in tears and apologize, but something in his head kept him going. It was something he’d never known before, and he wondered if this was the teenage rebellion everyone always talked about, finally kicking in. Though, it may just as well have been the hatred he felt towards his father at that moment. The anger, for everything he’d said and done lately.

The man fell silent for a brief moment, allowing his face to redden to the point where it almost merged with the red jumper he was wearing, before finally exploding. “How dare you?! How dare you speak to me like that?!?” He stood up slowly, before the palm of his hand clashed with his son’s cheek with a loud slap. Frank turned his head at the impact, feeling the blood in his face rush towards the hit area.

“Stop! I told you not to hurt him!!” Rage took over his mother’s voice as she stormed angrily towards her husband. She grabbed hold of his upper arm and spun him around to face her. His face was still fixed on Frank for a moment, before he sighed heavily and glared at his wife with eyes so full of hatred and rage. He simply stared for a second, breathing loudly and glancing at Frank out of the corner of his eye several times.

Hearing his parents begin to argue, which rarely happened, Frank thought that he should intervene. After all, it was his fault… Thinking carefully about what to say, he began speaking, “It… Mom, it really didn’t hurt that much… really…”
He was telling the truth, kind of. The slap was powerful enough to sting and make him rethink what he was saying, but not hard enough to cause him any harm or leave a red mark across his face.

“Shut up, Frank! Don’t get involved when you don’t need to!!” Both Frank and his mother jumped back, wide eyed, in disbelief as his father’s anger clearly grew and bubbled inside him. The man’s face was growing redder and redder as tension in the room rose. He breathed heavily as he realized that he had never used a voice so loud and angry before.

“Don’t need to?” Frank scoffed. “Am I supposed to stand here and listen to you fight about me, and not get involved?” He raised an eyebrow at his father, before tilting his head up slightly and blinking a few times. “Oh, wait. I actually don’t need to stand here!”

Frank’s father simply stared the whole time as his son threaded his thumbs through his belt loops and headed towards the stairs, disappearing around the corner. Frank had always been so good and polite. He didn’t understand what happened, and he really didn’t understand how to deal with it. Instead, he turned away, throwing his hands up in defeat, and sighed deeply. “I’m done. I don’t know how to deal with that kid, I’m just done!” He placed his thumbs on his forehead as he laced his fingers together and closed his eyes in order to recollect his thoughts and calm down.

“You know, we’re lucky.” The soft, quiet sound of his wife’s voice caused him to open his eyes in surprise and turn his head towards her. “Most teenagers are always like this. We’re lucky,” his wife continued. “He’s fifteen, this was bound to happen sooner or later, and if you can’t deal with just two days of his behavior, how will you deal with the next two to four years?”

The man’s eyes widened even more, as the sudden realization that he would most likely have to put up with this for several years flooded over him. Maybe she was right, and this was all just part of raising a teenager. And maybe they really were lucky. But, then again, maybe he didn’t know how to raise a teenager.

“While you stand here, staring into space, I’m going to go and talk to Frank, because it’s obvious that something is wrong. He didn’t just suddenly decide to rebel, something triggered it.” His wife waited for a reply, but realizing that her husband was still unresponsive, she decided to continue. “Did you know that yesterday he actually told me that he’s not okay…?” Once again she waited. “He’s always been okay, and rather happy. I understand how furious you are, I’m angry too, but whatever he’s going through, he needs our support too.” She then turned and walked away, towards the stairs, where Frank had disappeared just minutes ago, when she noticed that she should just leave her husband to think about it.

*

Frank stormed up the stairs in anger, though on the outside he appeared rather calm. He wasn’t sure if his father would follow him up the stairs to finish yelling and announce his new punishment or not, but just to be on the safe side, he decided it would be best to lock the door to his room. As he reached the top of the stairs, he could no longer hear his parent’s voices, and wondered if they had finished fighting or if they were just keeping their voices down this time. Then, after slamming his door with all his strength, he moved the small, metal lock, isolating himself from the outside world.

His room was the same as always. Small, boring, with pale gray walls and very little furniture other than his basic single bed, a scratched, old wooden desk, an equally damaged dresser with several long drawers and a small, built-in closet. Piles of clothing, paper and food packaging littered every corner of the room, including his entire bed, making it almost impossible to fall back onto it without lying down on a plug or crushing an unopened packet of chips.

A soft knock on the door startled him. “Frankie? Frank, can I come in?” His mother’s warm, feminine voice seeped in through the scratched white door.

“No.” Frank’s response was plain and simple. He didn’t want his mother getting involved; he knew how likely he was to blurt everything out. Everything that happened with Gerard, everything he felt for his best friend, everything about his meeting with Mikey. Just everything. And he couldn’t do that. Not right now, a least.

“Frank, please. I won’t shout at you, I just want to speak to you.” She pleaded through the locked door.

“I don’t give a damn, there’s nothing to speak about.” He mumbled his response, sweeping everything off his bed in order to lie down for a few minutes.

“Frank. I know something’s really wrong and I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t tell me what it is.” His mother’s hand locked around the handle in an attempt to open the door. “Please, just open the door.”

“What makes you think that something is wrong?” Frank answered, his voice still completely emotionless and plain.

“Because it’s obvious. And you told me yesterday that you’re not okay, remember?” The woman’s voice seemed even warmer and more sympathetic now, and all Frank wanted to do was unlock the door, fall into his mother’s caring arms and burst into tears, the way he did when he was little.

“You couldn’t help anyway.” Frank lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and placing his hands on his chest, watching them rise and fall as he breathed deeply, his thoughts finally settling down.

“Even if that is the case, it wouldn’t hurt to try. You would feel so much better if you just told me what’s bothering you.” His mother refused to give up. “Frank, I’m not leaving until you open this door and talk to me about what’s wrong.” Her voice, although still full of concern and care, now had a stubborn, stern ring to it.

Frank rolled over onto his stomach before mumbling into his pillow, “Then you’ll probably be here for a while.”

“Right, if you don’t want to talk then at least be respectful!” Frank’s mother snapped at him, agitated at the careless tone of his voice.

Groaning quietly, Frank sat up and ran a hand through his hair. His mother was right; he was being disrespectful, even though he really didn’t want to talk. However, he felt like if he didn’t open the door, his mother would be disappointed in him, and he really didn’t need to disappoint more people right now. “Fine! You want to talk about it, let’s talk about it.” He sighed, getting to his feet to unlock the door and let his mother in.

“Thank you, Frank.” She smiled warmly, making a lump rise slowly in his throat. He wanted to tell her everything so badly. He’d always told his mother everything straight away, and he did always feel better afterwards, but not this time. He bit his lip nervously as she walked through the door. He could tell how badly she wanted to start an argument about the mess in his room, but was keeping her mouth shut, and he really appreciated that.

“So what’s bothering you, Frankie?”

“Nothing,” Frank shrugged, looking away from his mother who was now sat next to him on the bed, which was still barely visible under piles of clothing, despite the fact that he just swept half of the stuff onto the equally littered floor.

His mother wrinkled her forehead slightly and leaned forward to try and get a look at her son’s face, which was still facing away from her. “I thought you said you wanted to talk about it…” She pointed out, her voice full of curiosity.

“No. You wanted to talk about it. I simply gave up.” Frank mumbled from behind his hair. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his mother biting her lip.

“But since I’m here now, do you want to at least try talking about it?” She finally asked in a small, friendly voice.

“No!” Jumping to his feet, Frank stormed across the room, then stopped and turned around as her ran his hands through his hair in anger. “No, I don’t want to talk! Everybody’s been on my case lately! Dad made up some fucked up story, Mikey is probably spying on me for Gerard, who doesn’t even want to know me…” He collapsed to his knees in tears. His mother ran up to him immediately and hugged him, sitting on the floor beside him.

After about a minute, when Frank gradually stopped sobbing, his mother let go of him and tried to question him again. “What happened? Did you and Gerard have a fight?” She kept one hand on his shoulder, stroking his upper arm gently.

“I…” Frank sobbed, “Not exactly…”

His mother continued stroking his arm while using the other hand to try and move the hair away from his face. For once Frank didn’t resist. “What happened, sweetheart?”

“You wouldn’t-” He sobbed again, “You wouldn’t understand…”

His mother thought for a second, then responded with a quiet sigh as she hugged her son again. This time he hugged her back, and they sat on the floor like this for what felt like hours.

*

“Gerard! Get over here! Now!” The sound of his mother’s voice startled Gerard, causing him to drop his pencil onto the stained gray coffee table and abandon his sketchbook. He didn’t want to disobey his mother when she was using this tone of voice; he knew nothing good would come from it. She probably wasn’t herself right now, hyped up on meds, so getting into a fight with her now was the last thing anyone wanted.

Suddenly Mikey came running down the stairs, clearly frightened, despite being used to this. “Gee, mom wants you and she’s getting pretty mad…”

“I know… Do you know what she wants?” Gerard looked expectantly at his younger brother, chewing on his top lip.

“Nah,” Mikey replied. “But you better go quick, her medication makes her aggressive…”

“Shit…” Gerard whispered under his breath, sighing and making his way towards the stairs, dodging shoes and various items on the way.

As soon as Gerard disappeared at the top of the stairs, Mikey perched himself awkwardly on the edge of the old sofa, placing his skinny elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his clenched fists. Just then, something caught his eye. He glanced at the unfinished drawing on the coffee table in front of him, chewing his lower lip and wrinkling his forehead. It was a drawing of Frank… He picked it up just to be sure, taking a closer look at the page. It was definitely Frank.

Why would Gerard be drawing Frank? He thought, turning to the previous page. There it was. Another drawing of Frank. And another. The date at the top of this one said that it was drawn over two days. Two days ago, and the day before that. The picture showed Frank from the waist up, doubled over with laughter, squinting as he grinned. There was also something scrawled next to the drawing.

“I’m trying to let you know just how much you mean to me.” Mikey read out loud, his confusion melting away, suddenly replaced with shock and anger. It all suddenly made perfect sense. Gerard liked Frank too.

That’s why they kissed, not just because they were drunk. They both had feelings for each other. That’s why Frank was acting so strange at first when we met in Starbucks. He must have felt awkward to be hanging out with me because he and Gerard were together by then and going somewhere with his little brother was just awkward for him… Mikey’s eyes filled with bitter tears at the thought.

At that moment, Gerard came back down the stairs with a small smile on his face. “We didn’t need to worry, she just couldn’t get out of bed and wanted me to pass her her tea. She didn’t even try and attack me. Maybe she’s getting better…” Gerard trailed off as Mikey jumped to his feet and froze again, still facing in the opposite direction. “Are you okay, Mikes?”

Mikey just stared blankly at the paint that crumbled off the wall. At that point, Gerard realized what was going on and immediately ran over to the coffee table. Mikey was still clutching the sketchbook in one hand, biting his lip to hold back tears.

“Mikey, it’s not what you think. Really.” Gerard began, searching desperately for something else to say, but giving up and just sighing instead.

Mikey finally turned to look at Gerard, his eyes slowly filling up with tears. “You like him, don’t you?”

“W-well… yes, b- but…” The older boy stammered, unsure of what he could say to make the situation better.

“But… you’re not even…” Mikey blinked quickly, shaking his head a little.

“I am,” Gerard looked down at his feet, biting his lip until little droplets of blood appeared. There was no way around telling Mikey now. “And I was… for over a year now…”

Mikey scoffed in response, then looked up at his brother. “Why didn’t you tell me when I told you?”

“I tried, but I just wasn’t ready…” Gerard’s eyes remained fixed on his worn out old shoes.

“So tell me why you were with Frank when you know how much I like him!” The volume of Mikey’s voice rose suddenly, his expression changing from a shocked and disappointed one, to one full of rage and hurt.

“I already told you!” Gerard looked up, suddenly feeling angry too. “We were drunk and we kissed, what else do you want to know?”

“You’re with him now, aren’t you?” The younger boy raged, his face turning bright red as a single tear escaped from the corner of his eye.

“What?! No!” Gerard’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t do that to y-”

“Gee, this mirror isn’t big enough for the two of us!”

Ignoring his brother’s metaphor, Gerard continued. “Mikey, I told him that I didn’t feel the same way because I didn’t want to hurt you!” He was now beginning to cry too, but it was all for nothing. Mikey was already out the door, and as it shut with a loud slam, Gerard collapsed onto the sofa, leaning back and covering his face with one hand. And suddenly, an idea began to form in his head. Mikey already thought that Gerard was with Frank. It wouldn’t hurt him any more if he really was…


Hi guys! I decided to add an author's note for once! ¦)) First of all, I apologise for taking forever. I had no internet for ages! I don't know how I survived but I deserve some kind of reward ¦D. Anyway, I know characters in my story seem to over react to everything. Just ignore that if you can... Hope you're enjoying the story so far, and I will try to upload more in the next few days. Keep running, Killjoys!