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Mikey blinked, feeling a stabbing pain in his right eye.

"Gerard, I hate contacts. They're pure evil formed into plastic." He rubbed his eyes with one hand. Gerard only laughed.

"It's only temporary. You'll be able to get the surgery in a month or so, after your eyes stop mutating," he said with a smirk. Mikey glared at him with his one good eye.

"They're not mutating. They just keep changing."

"Same thing," Gerard said with a shrug. "Hey, you getting hungry? I am." Mikey nodded.

"Speaking of which, I should probably check my blood sugar soon," he said quietly. Gerard looked at him with sympathy. His brother had been diagnosed as diabetic just a week earlier. The news was still shocking. At that moment the door to the small exam room opened, and a white-coated doctor walked in, holding a clipboard.

"Hello, Mr. Way," he said to Mikey, shaking his hand. Gerard began paying attention as well, more out of habit than anything. "How have the contacts been?"

"They hurt when I blink," he said, wincing and putting pressure on his right eye. "Especially this one."

"Well, that won't be a problem anymore," the aging man said with a smile. Mikey tilted his head to one side in mild confusion. "See, a new brand of contacts has just been released. They're specifically made for people with type 1 diabetes. Whenever you need to eat or take insulin, they change color. That way you don't have to check your blood sugar anymore."

"Really?" Mikey asked incredulously, a wide smile spreading across his face. "That's fantastic."

"Ah, the miracles of modern medicine," said Gerard, giving his brother a one-armed hug. Mikey just smiled.

"Do they hurt?"

"Actually, they're much thinner than the ones you have now. You can sleep while wearing them if you must, but I wouldn't recommend it. It's not good for your eyes," warned the doctor. Mikey nodded.

He and Gerard left the optometrist's office a few minutes later. Mikey stared at the world around him with eyes so wide Gerard feared his new contacts would dry up and fall out.

"I can't believe this! These things are so much better!" Mikey said with a smile. Gerard smiled back, eyes now hidden behind his sunglasses. His stomach growled.

"I'm starving," he whined. "Can we get food somewhere?"

"Later," said Mikey. "We have practice first."

"Let me at least get a drink somewhere," said Gerard as he stepped into the car. He didn't trust his brother to drive just yet.

"Fine." They stopped at their house, just a few blocks away. Gerard grabbed the nearest Gatorade and poured it into a glass, dropping in a few ice cubes. Mikey leaned against the counter, tapping his foot impatiently and checking his watch for exaggeration.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Before Mikey could get to it, though, it burst open. Frank ran into the house, closely followed by Ray and Bob, who were trying to restrain him.

"Is there something I should know?" asked Mikey, raising one eyebrow.

"Chicken!" shouted Frank. Mikey wasn't sure what to say.

"That is by far the last time we allow him to mix Red Bull, Vault, and Monster," said Bob.

"Wasn't there some vodka in there too?" asked Ray. Bob shrugged, still trying to hold back a squirming Frank. Mikey suddenly had an idea and walked back into the kitchen, stealing a half-finished glass of cherry flavored Gatorade from his brother.

"I was drinking that!" shouted Gerard, chasing after him. Mikey ran to the living room and immediately pour the glass's contents down Frank's throat. He swallowed, licking his lips, and smiled.

"Thank you," he said in a high-pitched voice. Gerard and Mikey just laughed as Ray and Bob unceremoniously dropped him on the ground. He sat there for several seconds, just staring off into space. The others began to unpack their equipment, setting up in Gerard and Mikey's living room. Normally they would have gone to a studio, but they were afraid to release Frank on civilized society just yet.

"As if we really need to rehearse," said Frank, causing them all to laugh.

"Yeah, aren't vampires supposed to be perfect at everything?" added Gerard. Frank launched into a fit of high-pitched giggles, but stopped after just a few seconds. A thought suddenly dawned on him, and he nearly dropped his guitar.

"Something wrong, Frank?" asked Mikey, sounding worried. Frank picked the now-empty glass off the ground and carefully studied it. His eyes narrowed in deep thought.

"Blood," he muttered. He stood up and looked Gerard in the eyes, realizing the singer was still wearing his dark, face-hiding sunglasses. His eyes narrowed further.

"Stays out of sunlight," he said to himself. He stepped over to Mikey, looking directly into the younger Way brother's eyes. His own eyes widened in fear.

"Mikey...why are your eyes red?" he whispered in fear. Mikey thought for a second or two before he remembered.

"Because I'm hungry."