Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Vinegar and Baking Soda
UGLY - Under-estimated, Gory, Lively and enventually Yours to deal with
Fye geats trapped in some kind of an ambush, and the guys step up for her. What happends when she tell Gee to meet her at the park?
?Blocked
"THAT, dudes, was a major what the fucking shit moment." I laughed, almost rolling off the steps in front of the school.
It's been about six months since I first met the guys. And really, I wouldn't have them any other way! They've all got their awesome thing, but they all have their quirks. They STILL haven't found mine. And I'm always laughing at them saying it's bluntly obvious! I just can't SING worth a heck. NOR can I last three seconds in an argument without punching the other person's face in.
Oh well.
"...Jock at 9 o'clock." Mikey shrugged, remembering the last time he encountered on of those jackasses.
It was one of the days I'd been sick. Just like bees are attracted to honey when the jar's not sealed shut, the jocks took advantage of my day's absence to stuff poor little Mikey in a trash can and roll him down a hill. God knows WHICH hill; the place is as flat as a 3 year old's chest.
"Hey look! It's the OuKasts!" One laughed, making his other friends laugh as well. OutKast. That was our 'name'. Where the hell that came from, well... I'm guessing they listen to the radio way too much.
"Hey look, it's the peanut-brains!" Gerard imitated, hanging his hand like some gay guy. Man that made me crack up every time.
"Who you callin' gay, ya filthy scumbag?"
"Ooooh, he's takin' out the BIG GUNS." Frank laughed.
The guys felt free to insult any one of the jocks nowadays. I gave 'em all self defense classes at least once a week. AT LEAST. That's when they don't invite me over to listen to them and give a few pointers on what would sound good. They say I have THE EAR. ANWAYS. Last time the jocks stopped by, Ray was the one to take care of them. I was proud of my little princesses' progress!
"You lookin' for a fight, fag?" The tallest one growled, taking a step forward.
"No, but I might be. I haven't punched any faces in a while. My guys are getting too good." I said in a sigh, getting up as I cracked my knuckles. It made them cringe. HAH.
"Y-yeah, like a little girl like YOU can beat US up!" he laughed, turning back to his friends who seemed less... Enthusiastic.
I took a few steps forwards, forcing them all back. And that's when he threw the first punch. From then on, it was a storm of shouts, punches, kicks and blood.
MY blood.
I'd gotten a punch in the lower jaw. Whoever gave me that one had a hell of a hook. Too bad he wouldn't be alive for too long.
Oh, and I think they all noticed. Because, apparently, when I was hit, my eyes reflected pure blood-lust. Or so they say. The BOYS stared in half-awe, some laughing, some shuddering at my near-dead stare.
"...Which son of a bitch landed that one?" I asked in a hushed tone, before they started laughing. I looked around; CRAP.
Hoh fucking shit one's behind me.
But by the time I thought that... I'd already gotten a kick in the back. Made it crack, actually.
I was shoved into the other jock's arms; HANDS more like it. Motherfuckers, I could've killed them right then, if someone hadn't wrenched me away. DAMN! And I was just about ready to kill them all, too!
"You did what you could. Five is too much for you." I heard Bob say, wiping the side of my mouth with a cloth he took out of nowhere. Oh, wait...
It was his tie. Whatever.
"...It's that fucking retard." I growled, pointing at the fatso. Fatso, that Mikey was generously beating up for me. I'd have to thank him, later. I'd have to thank all of them.
"...That's for fucking touching her like you did!!" I heard Gerard scream, after having kicked the 'head' jock right down where it hurts. And THEN he punched in his face.
"Wow. That guy's violent."
"I know. It's worse when he's drunk AND angry."
"Daaaaaaaaamn."
About twenty minutes later, the bell rang; sadly, the fight had ended five minutes prior. BUT! There was nothing anyone could do about it! You know why? First of all, I was only using self defense. The guys... Well, you could call it that, too. After I was pulled away, the jocks were going after them.
And the jocks? THEY started it. They landed the first punch. The PROVOQUED us. Bunch of losers.
AND we weren't on school grounds. Ha.
"You okay?" Gerard asked, as we both sat beside each other.
"Yeah, that looked like a mean punch." Frank added, seated behind me.
"I'm fine, really." I smiled, sitting back straight when I noticed the teacher was turning around. I tore a piece of paper out of my notebook, and passed in to Gerard.
'Meet me in the park on Elm right after school. I have something I wanna show you.'
He looked back at me and nodded. The bells rang, and everyone headed home... Except Gerard. I, for one, had rushed outside as soon as humanly possible, to get to the park first.
I was already sitting under a tree when Gerard arrived. I was scribbling the last few lines. The warm April weather helped me finish the few things I had to do.
"So, what's up?" He asked, letting himself fall down beside me, as I shoved a notebook under his nose.
"Read and review." I said, looking away.
"Uh, ooooooookay... Weird." He said, taking the notebook and opening the first page. Then moving onto the next, and so on and so forth.
"Fye, this is..."
"Stupid? Childish? UGLY? Pure nonsense? I've been told that before... Feel free to-"
"Amazing."
"Woah, no WAY can you think my stupid little sketches are amazing!"
"MCRmy, blood, darkness or dead... I like it. I really do."
"...really..? My brother thought it was-"
"What the fuck?! You asked your BROTHER?! Damn, woman, I thought you were smarter than that!"
"Well what?" I asked, tilting my head sideways. "My brother's not THAT much of an idiot.."
"No, but he's a fucking arrogant bastard who'd do anything to take you down and keep his head safe." Gerard shrugged, returning the notebook to me.
I'll admit... My brother never really was fond of my liking to draw, but I never really thought I was that good. I regularly showed him the stuff I worked on to get his feedback. I'd work on verything and often would remake some drawings, because he didn't like them. But from there to making me start over because he wanted to keep his spot as Artist of the Family..?
Makes fucking sense, that idiot.
"...Wanna come around tonight?" he asked suddenly, turning to look at me.
"But Ray and Frank are working. You're gonna practice without them?" I questionned, and mentally murdered myself when I saw Gerard's face. "Nevermind I said that! I'll come over." I corrected myself, getting up and brushing down my jeans. "Your place is closer to here than mine, anyways. And I might need some ice for this before it gets so swolen I can't speak." I laughed, and lightly jumped when I felt a jacket over my shoulders.
"You looked like you were freezing." He snickered, stuffing his hands in his pockets, just like me.
"...I hate you, gossebumps." I muttere to myself, just making Gerard laugh.
It's been about six months since I first met the guys. And really, I wouldn't have them any other way! They've all got their awesome thing, but they all have their quirks. They STILL haven't found mine. And I'm always laughing at them saying it's bluntly obvious! I just can't SING worth a heck. NOR can I last three seconds in an argument without punching the other person's face in.
Oh well.
"...Jock at 9 o'clock." Mikey shrugged, remembering the last time he encountered on of those jackasses.
It was one of the days I'd been sick. Just like bees are attracted to honey when the jar's not sealed shut, the jocks took advantage of my day's absence to stuff poor little Mikey in a trash can and roll him down a hill. God knows WHICH hill; the place is as flat as a 3 year old's chest.
"Hey look! It's the OuKasts!" One laughed, making his other friends laugh as well. OutKast. That was our 'name'. Where the hell that came from, well... I'm guessing they listen to the radio way too much.
"Hey look, it's the peanut-brains!" Gerard imitated, hanging his hand like some gay guy. Man that made me crack up every time.
"Who you callin' gay, ya filthy scumbag?"
"Ooooh, he's takin' out the BIG GUNS." Frank laughed.
The guys felt free to insult any one of the jocks nowadays. I gave 'em all self defense classes at least once a week. AT LEAST. That's when they don't invite me over to listen to them and give a few pointers on what would sound good. They say I have THE EAR. ANWAYS. Last time the jocks stopped by, Ray was the one to take care of them. I was proud of my little princesses' progress!
"You lookin' for a fight, fag?" The tallest one growled, taking a step forward.
"No, but I might be. I haven't punched any faces in a while. My guys are getting too good." I said in a sigh, getting up as I cracked my knuckles. It made them cringe. HAH.
"Y-yeah, like a little girl like YOU can beat US up!" he laughed, turning back to his friends who seemed less... Enthusiastic.
I took a few steps forwards, forcing them all back. And that's when he threw the first punch. From then on, it was a storm of shouts, punches, kicks and blood.
MY blood.
I'd gotten a punch in the lower jaw. Whoever gave me that one had a hell of a hook. Too bad he wouldn't be alive for too long.
Oh, and I think they all noticed. Because, apparently, when I was hit, my eyes reflected pure blood-lust. Or so they say. The BOYS stared in half-awe, some laughing, some shuddering at my near-dead stare.
"...Which son of a bitch landed that one?" I asked in a hushed tone, before they started laughing. I looked around; CRAP.
Hoh fucking shit one's behind me.
But by the time I thought that... I'd already gotten a kick in the back. Made it crack, actually.
I was shoved into the other jock's arms; HANDS more like it. Motherfuckers, I could've killed them right then, if someone hadn't wrenched me away. DAMN! And I was just about ready to kill them all, too!
"You did what you could. Five is too much for you." I heard Bob say, wiping the side of my mouth with a cloth he took out of nowhere. Oh, wait...
It was his tie. Whatever.
"...It's that fucking retard." I growled, pointing at the fatso. Fatso, that Mikey was generously beating up for me. I'd have to thank him, later. I'd have to thank all of them.
"...That's for fucking touching her like you did!!" I heard Gerard scream, after having kicked the 'head' jock right down where it hurts. And THEN he punched in his face.
"Wow. That guy's violent."
"I know. It's worse when he's drunk AND angry."
"Daaaaaaaaamn."
About twenty minutes later, the bell rang; sadly, the fight had ended five minutes prior. BUT! There was nothing anyone could do about it! You know why? First of all, I was only using self defense. The guys... Well, you could call it that, too. After I was pulled away, the jocks were going after them.
And the jocks? THEY started it. They landed the first punch. The PROVOQUED us. Bunch of losers.
AND we weren't on school grounds. Ha.
"You okay?" Gerard asked, as we both sat beside each other.
"Yeah, that looked like a mean punch." Frank added, seated behind me.
"I'm fine, really." I smiled, sitting back straight when I noticed the teacher was turning around. I tore a piece of paper out of my notebook, and passed in to Gerard.
'Meet me in the park on Elm right after school. I have something I wanna show you.'
He looked back at me and nodded. The bells rang, and everyone headed home... Except Gerard. I, for one, had rushed outside as soon as humanly possible, to get to the park first.
I was already sitting under a tree when Gerard arrived. I was scribbling the last few lines. The warm April weather helped me finish the few things I had to do.
"So, what's up?" He asked, letting himself fall down beside me, as I shoved a notebook under his nose.
"Read and review." I said, looking away.
"Uh, ooooooookay... Weird." He said, taking the notebook and opening the first page. Then moving onto the next, and so on and so forth.
"Fye, this is..."
"Stupid? Childish? UGLY? Pure nonsense? I've been told that before... Feel free to-"
"Amazing."
"Woah, no WAY can you think my stupid little sketches are amazing!"
"MCRmy, blood, darkness or dead... I like it. I really do."
"...really..? My brother thought it was-"
"What the fuck?! You asked your BROTHER?! Damn, woman, I thought you were smarter than that!"
"Well what?" I asked, tilting my head sideways. "My brother's not THAT much of an idiot.."
"No, but he's a fucking arrogant bastard who'd do anything to take you down and keep his head safe." Gerard shrugged, returning the notebook to me.
I'll admit... My brother never really was fond of my liking to draw, but I never really thought I was that good. I regularly showed him the stuff I worked on to get his feedback. I'd work on verything and often would remake some drawings, because he didn't like them. But from there to making me start over because he wanted to keep his spot as Artist of the Family..?
Makes fucking sense, that idiot.
"...Wanna come around tonight?" he asked suddenly, turning to look at me.
"But Ray and Frank are working. You're gonna practice without them?" I questionned, and mentally murdered myself when I saw Gerard's face. "Nevermind I said that! I'll come over." I corrected myself, getting up and brushing down my jeans. "Your place is closer to here than mine, anyways. And I might need some ice for this before it gets so swolen I can't speak." I laughed, and lightly jumped when I felt a jacket over my shoulders.
"You looked like you were freezing." He snickered, stuffing his hands in his pockets, just like me.
"...I hate you, gossebumps." I muttere to myself, just making Gerard laugh.
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