Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Dear Gerard..
0 reviews[Frerard] Gerard is a criminal and an alcoholic, and with Frank's help, he decides to turn his life around, but he misunderstood what Frank meant..
0Unrated
This is a new story, one that I've had the idea for for a while, so here it is. R and R!
Gerard Way roamed the dark, dull streets of New Jersey on one Friday evening. The rain was battering down in a fast rhythm and it splashed onto the concrete sidewalk as if it was trying to crack the grey cement. The sky had darkened considerably, seeing as only an hour before it was sunny and as bright as though the sun had just risen to it's peak. Gerard walked by all of the houses in the street, occasionally stopping to peer in the windows and watch the happy families converse with one another, or sitting at a board game, or merely just watching television together. The raven haired male envied those families; he envied the happiness and how close they all seemed to be. Those children were the ones that had a happy childhood, those were the families that had everything he didn't. Those kids had a bond with their parents, they could all do things together simply because they wanted to, not because it was an obligation, and they loved each other irrevocably. Gerard had always wanted that. He'd always wanted to be like a normal child, and he so desperately wished that he had such a strong bond with his parents. Maybe then, he wouldn't have scoured the streets whilst the rain was pouring down on him, or the thunder rumbling faintly in the sky. Maybe then he wouldn't have to walk halfway across town to reach the only liquor store that would still sell him alcohol in order to get his poison. Maybe then he could've made something of himself. Instead, he was an unemployed twenty-four year old man who had dropped out of high school with next to no qualifications, all for the purpose of getting drunk and high instead of learning. It wasn't his best decision, but he never regretted it at all.
Gerard finally reached the liquor store, pushing the door open with a gloved hand, and a faint smile stretched the corner of his lips as he heard the familiar ring of the bell once he was inside. He tugged down his black hood, flashing the cashier a smile as he picked up two bottles of whiskey and a bottle of rum, before he sat them down onto the counter. He taken out $50 from his pocket and stuffed the crumpled notes into the cashier's hand, before he left again without a single word escaping his chapped lips. Gerard carried the bag in his arms almost protectively, and the brown paper bag could've been mistaken for a bag of groceries. His inner demons were no secret to his family, but they were unknown to the rest of society. The all just saw him as a struggling artist that kept himself to himself. Gerard occasionally sold a painting which helped him cover the rent money on his crummy, run-down flat, but it also provided for his many addictions. Once he'd battled the rain and the stares from onlookers watching through their windows, he'd finally reached his home, and with a sigh, he unlocked the door and stepped right back into his comfort zone. His clothes were soaked through, and his hair was now matted and curled from the rain. He simply picked up the bag and brought it into the bedroom, where he taken out a bottle of whiskey and poured some into a dirty glass that he'd used the previous evening. Then, after Gerard had quickly downed the glass, he began to strip himself of his soaked clothing and he quickly changed into a pair of skeleton pyjamas, pulling up the hood as he shivered. Gerard picked up the bottle of whiskey he'd recently opened and began to sip at the bitter liquid, not even reacting as the liquor burned his throat. He decided that the bottle was easier for him to drink out of and that was a much more appealing option rather than constantly filling up a tiny, dirty glass that he hadn't had the effort to wash.
Once the bottle of whiskey was empty, Gerard was feeling the poison and he stumbled up to answer the door when the doorbell rang. He could barely walk, or even see for that matter, but he somehow managed to fumble with the lock, and then he finally opened the door. His brother was standing there, dripping wet and holding a large jar of coffee. Gerard merely grunted as a greeting, and he walked back into his bedroom, Mikey following. Mikey had always hated seeing Gerard in this state, and he'd desperately hoped that he'd reached his brother before he'd started drinking.
"Gerard.." Mikey sighed, obviously feeling rather exasperated with his brother, but he needed to be patient. If Gerard was going to get better, he'd have to be able to wait, whilst also being subtly persistent - He had to make Gerard want to get better. The alcoholic didn't do so much as look at his brother; he simply sat on the edge of his bed, swaying as he tried to open the bottle of rum.
Within a matter of blurry seconds, Mikey Way watched as his brother tumbled off the bed and roll onto his side; the older man was now vomiting the whiskey up onto his wooden flooring, and he was swaying and sobbing. Mikey just looked on as his brother began to heave and grip onto the bed post, trying to steady himself before finally passing out. Once Gerard was completely unconscious, his brother picked up his tiny frame and laid him down onto the lumpy mattress before he covered him with the blanket. As Mikey stroked his brother's hair, he began to whisper, his voice laced with sadness and pain.
"Gee.. Why'd you do this to yourself, huh? You can't like ending every night like this, and you certainly can't like the hangover in the morning. Please get better, Gee.. We all worry about you. Mom and Dad need you, and believe it or not, so do I. Kristen misses you too. Please, Gee. Please try. Don't give up yet."
Gerard Way roamed the dark, dull streets of New Jersey on one Friday evening. The rain was battering down in a fast rhythm and it splashed onto the concrete sidewalk as if it was trying to crack the grey cement. The sky had darkened considerably, seeing as only an hour before it was sunny and as bright as though the sun had just risen to it's peak. Gerard walked by all of the houses in the street, occasionally stopping to peer in the windows and watch the happy families converse with one another, or sitting at a board game, or merely just watching television together. The raven haired male envied those families; he envied the happiness and how close they all seemed to be. Those children were the ones that had a happy childhood, those were the families that had everything he didn't. Those kids had a bond with their parents, they could all do things together simply because they wanted to, not because it was an obligation, and they loved each other irrevocably. Gerard had always wanted that. He'd always wanted to be like a normal child, and he so desperately wished that he had such a strong bond with his parents. Maybe then, he wouldn't have scoured the streets whilst the rain was pouring down on him, or the thunder rumbling faintly in the sky. Maybe then he wouldn't have to walk halfway across town to reach the only liquor store that would still sell him alcohol in order to get his poison. Maybe then he could've made something of himself. Instead, he was an unemployed twenty-four year old man who had dropped out of high school with next to no qualifications, all for the purpose of getting drunk and high instead of learning. It wasn't his best decision, but he never regretted it at all.
Gerard finally reached the liquor store, pushing the door open with a gloved hand, and a faint smile stretched the corner of his lips as he heard the familiar ring of the bell once he was inside. He tugged down his black hood, flashing the cashier a smile as he picked up two bottles of whiskey and a bottle of rum, before he sat them down onto the counter. He taken out $50 from his pocket and stuffed the crumpled notes into the cashier's hand, before he left again without a single word escaping his chapped lips. Gerard carried the bag in his arms almost protectively, and the brown paper bag could've been mistaken for a bag of groceries. His inner demons were no secret to his family, but they were unknown to the rest of society. The all just saw him as a struggling artist that kept himself to himself. Gerard occasionally sold a painting which helped him cover the rent money on his crummy, run-down flat, but it also provided for his many addictions. Once he'd battled the rain and the stares from onlookers watching through their windows, he'd finally reached his home, and with a sigh, he unlocked the door and stepped right back into his comfort zone. His clothes were soaked through, and his hair was now matted and curled from the rain. He simply picked up the bag and brought it into the bedroom, where he taken out a bottle of whiskey and poured some into a dirty glass that he'd used the previous evening. Then, after Gerard had quickly downed the glass, he began to strip himself of his soaked clothing and he quickly changed into a pair of skeleton pyjamas, pulling up the hood as he shivered. Gerard picked up the bottle of whiskey he'd recently opened and began to sip at the bitter liquid, not even reacting as the liquor burned his throat. He decided that the bottle was easier for him to drink out of and that was a much more appealing option rather than constantly filling up a tiny, dirty glass that he hadn't had the effort to wash.
Once the bottle of whiskey was empty, Gerard was feeling the poison and he stumbled up to answer the door when the doorbell rang. He could barely walk, or even see for that matter, but he somehow managed to fumble with the lock, and then he finally opened the door. His brother was standing there, dripping wet and holding a large jar of coffee. Gerard merely grunted as a greeting, and he walked back into his bedroom, Mikey following. Mikey had always hated seeing Gerard in this state, and he'd desperately hoped that he'd reached his brother before he'd started drinking.
"Gerard.." Mikey sighed, obviously feeling rather exasperated with his brother, but he needed to be patient. If Gerard was going to get better, he'd have to be able to wait, whilst also being subtly persistent - He had to make Gerard want to get better. The alcoholic didn't do so much as look at his brother; he simply sat on the edge of his bed, swaying as he tried to open the bottle of rum.
Within a matter of blurry seconds, Mikey Way watched as his brother tumbled off the bed and roll onto his side; the older man was now vomiting the whiskey up onto his wooden flooring, and he was swaying and sobbing. Mikey just looked on as his brother began to heave and grip onto the bed post, trying to steady himself before finally passing out. Once Gerard was completely unconscious, his brother picked up his tiny frame and laid him down onto the lumpy mattress before he covered him with the blanket. As Mikey stroked his brother's hair, he began to whisper, his voice laced with sadness and pain.
"Gee.. Why'd you do this to yourself, huh? You can't like ending every night like this, and you certainly can't like the hangover in the morning. Please get better, Gee.. We all worry about you. Mom and Dad need you, and believe it or not, so do I. Kristen misses you too. Please, Gee. Please try. Don't give up yet."
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