FicWad

Gerard Arthur Way slouched his way into his advanced level art class, and took his place in the back next to a moderately sized window. He placed his backpack on the floor beside his plain black stool and waited for class to begin. A girl he hadn’t recognized before walked into the class and handed their teacher, Ms. Retsie, a white sheet of paper. Ms. Retsie smiled kindly at the girl, her old, slightly sagging skin lifting and stretching over her teeth, and told her to find a seat wherever she pleased. After surveying the half-full classroom, the tall, curly haired brunette sat across from Gerard, also placing her checkered backpack and dark floral print purse next to her own stool.

“Hi.” She spoke, her voice being a bit deeper than Gerard expected, though still feminine. “I hope it’s ok I sit here?” She asked, gesturing to the stool with one hand, and fidgeting with her black and white polka dot dress with the other. The dress came to slightly above her hairless knee. He vaguely noticed a white scar on her right knee.

“Yeah, of course.” Gerard nodded. “Knock yourself out.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a ragged sketch book and an ebony pencil.

“Oh, so you’re more the drawing type?” She guessed, sitting on the stool.

“Yeah. I’m not too good at anything else except for painting. Drawing just came natural to me.” He smiled, making eye contact. His therapist had told him confidence (Not cockiness) makes friends. And Gerard was lacking friends. “How about yourself?”

“Me?” She asked, putting her finger to her chin, blue nail tapping the skin in thought. “I’m more of a 3D type person. I can do clay, assemblages, the whole ‘moderated Barbie’ thing. Can I look?” She asked, looking at his sketch book.

“Sure.” He responded, handing it over. They’re fingers brushed, her soft to his dry and rough. She opened the book and flipped through the pages, studying each one. The only thing he really drew was people portraits. Anything else was from a dream he found particularly interesting or a special request. “I don’t think I caught your name. I’m Gerard.” He introduced, hoping to be able to call this girl a friend.

“Tiara.” She mumbled distractedly, studying the pages. Her black eyeshadow became completely visible now. It started black then faded to her natural eyelid color, and was surrounded by mascara. “Ooh, she’s just lovely.” Tiara sighed in appreciation as she looked upon one of Gerard’s more recent pictures. It was his mother on her wedding day, walking down the aisle, bouquet in hand. Her hair hung to her breasts in soft, light colored ringlets. The dress was a corseted top, sleeveless, with a poufy gossamer bottom. A darkly colored bow was tied around her waist.

“That’s my mom.” Gerard explained. “She recently got married.” Gerard said, a bit of a grumble in his tone. She handed his book back.

“Uh oh. Do you not like him?” Tiara asked, slightly swinging her legs.

“He just occupies a lot of her time.” Gerard said, he was going to continue, but Ms. Retsie started class.

“Alright everyone! Today we start our last project of the year! As you know, it’s a free choice. And yes, you may choose something simple, but if it is simple, it must be perfect!” She announced in her shrill voice. “You may get started, and as you know, I’m always here if you need help or advice.”

Most of the class got up to collect their materials, Tiara included. Gerard flipped to a fresh page in his sketch book and put his pencil to the paper. Tiara sat back down a moment later, setting a cloth board with a large lump of clay and a needle tool upon it. The two worked in silence until the last five minutes of class when it was time to clean. Tiara sighed, and wiped her curls away from her face, careful not to get the earthy substance in her hair. Gerard looked at her work. Strange, but it looked like two graham crackers.

“What are you making?” Gerard asked, closing his book and placing it in his plain black Dollar Store backpack. Hmm, Gerard thought, glancing at the fraying seems I really should invest in another backpack.

“I’m making a plate of s’mores.” She smiled, her brown eyes finding his hazel. “If I can’t eat them, I can at least make them out of clay.

“Why can’t you eat s’mores?” Gerard asked, his curiosity killing him. Oh, no. Was she one of those crazy diet girls?

“Well, nosy, I can’t eat them because I have hypoglycemia and also because I’m trying to eat healthier. You know, like switch a bag of Cheetos for an orange?” She said, lumping her remaining clay together and sipping them into a baggie. Her dark red lips grinned at him. “You know, there’s this thing called ‘Summer’ coming up and I need to lose my food baby before I wear my bikini.” She said. Gerard glanced at her stomach and rolled his eyes. There was a tiny bump there. That was all.

“Hypogly-what?” Gerard asked.

“Google it.” She smiled, putting her supplies away and washing her hands, so her nails were blue again, not grey. When she returned, she sat down and waited for the bell. “You never told me what you’re doing by the way.” She pointed out, her obscenely minty breath blowing in his face.

“I guess that’s true.” Gerard said, glancing at the table. Eye contact! He chided himself mentally, staring back into her eyes.

“So?” She prompted.

“Well, it’s a creature. One I saw in a dream once. But don’t get your hopes up, you can’t see it until it’s finished.” He grinned, running his hands through his greasy, too-long black hair.

“Fine.” She grumbled. The bell then rang, and the class dismissed. Gerard smiled as he made his way to his next class. He made a friend. He thought, at least. It’s not that he was some anti-social freak or something, but no one ever really spoke to him unless they had to, and he had no doubt his appearance had something to do with it. His greasy black hair, pale skin, and generally dark attire tended to repel others. But hey, if those people only judged on looks versus character, did he really want them as friends anyway?

A/N: This is just a started chapter. Juicy things to come. Also: Frank, and Mikey come in soon.