Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > We can settle this affair.

Always.

by darkviolet 8 reviews

Sherlock's investigating..

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Angst,Drama,Erotica - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Published: 2008-02-01 - Updated: 2008-02-01 - 1754 words

2Ambiance
He parked across a tall buildings office and stretched.

"And now what?," I frowned.
If he thinks I have no better shit to do then stalk my mom and be cupped in one car with him he has another thing coming.

"We wait," his eyes were sternly fixed on the entrance door, people zooming in and out.
I tried to detect my mom's car, a white shiny new SUV my dad got her for her recent birthday, I sighed as my heart rate picking up it's pace at the thought of both of them on the birthday party, it was A surprise birthday party we organized for her 45th birthday. Donald Way was naturally there watching as my dad helped her blow out her candles and laughing, I didn't really took much notice of him, he was there all my life, Donald Way, the shadow man, being at every significant event celebrated by my family yet never in the limelight, never noticed. Always present but never stood out. I sighed again, who knows how long this being going on, months perhaps years, maybe all my life and I never wondered why all the affection, it was just there.

"Will you sit still?," Geetard growled at my constant shifting and moving, "You're making me crazy"

"I don't have to work hard then," I still looked for the familiar SUV, "You're already nuts"

He casted a dark glance at me and kept tapping his fingers on the wheel.
I focused on his hands to distract myself...Tap tap....Tap tap...Tap tap...How annoying is that?!...Tap tap tap...Oh a change of rhythm....Tap tap, "Will you fucking stop tapping!," I exclaimed.

"So that's why you were staring," he tapped one more time.

"Stop"

"It annoys you?," he smiled, now tapping his both hands.

"Everything about you annoys me," I realized it was the wrong answer when his feet joined the march.

"Stop!," I cried out.

"Why?", he dragged out the word and kept of drumming his hands on the wheel.

I smacked them down, "Stop"

"I'm melting, I'm melting," he did a rather good impression of the witch of oz and jerked his arms out of my reach.

"You should've been a witch and not a gay guy in green tights," I slumped back in my seat accompanied by a sigh, "Although both are a typecast"

"I was a star," he answered snobbishly.

"Also known as a fag, a drag and a fairy," I giggled.

"Don't disturb me," he put his hands back on the wheel and his gaze to the front entrance of the building.

"Doing exactly what?," I smirked, crossing my legs.

"Breathing and spying"

I rolled my eyes, he better not tap again, "Can I at least turn on the radio. It won't disturb your
detection work, stinking Sherlock"

He merely shrug.
I leaned to find a good station on the wreckage he called a radio but all I got was bunch of beeps and scratches that sounded like someone stuck a fork in it and twisted, "What the fuck?"

"I have a system worked out".

I shifted to the side, waiting for him to show me the 'system' but he showed no intention of moving, "Care to share?"

He glanced at me sideways and reached out for the radio, "Idiot," he slammed the button a few times and twisted the dial, "There. Simple"
I chuckled and I'm stupid for not getting that?
He found nothing but more shrieks and screeches..../this romeo is bleeding but you can't see his blood/..

"stop!," I exclaimed, slapping his hands away and turning up the volume.
I swayed to the old song's melody, singing along quietly...."It's nothing but some feelings
That this old dog kicked up"

Geetard stared with me with a sneer playing his feature, "Hardcore huh?"

I hushed him with a gesture of my hand, "Shut up"

/It's been raining since you left me
Now I'm drowning in the flood
You see I've always been a fighter
But without you I give up/
I looked out of the window and as usual at the sound of this song a movie trailer played on a loop in my mind.
I love Bon Jovi, I sighed to myself with pleasure, I just love Bon Jovi with his strong voice.
The next song was some pop trash so I tuned it down to a whisper in the background.

"Who knew bitch queen has a soft spot," he snickered.

"I'm hungry," I announced, in an attempt to distract him from mt secret Bon Jovi obsession.

Geetard didn't move a muscle.

"Is there a food stop somewhere on your stalking schedule?," I asked impatiently.

He shut his eyes and rubbed his temples in annoyance, I followed his finger and spotted a little dinner thingy just across the road, my mouth began watering at the prospect of a juicy hamburger and fries oozing with ketchup and a double coke, I snatched my bag back open to search for my money that will buy me this meal, I still had my lunch money since I didn't get to experience the delight of cafeteria food today.
I looked at the usual place I put it but found nothing but a pencil and crumbles of past meals, I dug through every single compartment and pocket, finding everything to keep a teacher happy but not a hungry student. Unfortunately books, notebooks, pens and random papers did nothing to ease that gripping hungry I felt, when I went through my jacket pockets, Geetard chuckled.
I ignored him and carried on in my frantic search for the bills, but luck and the money slipped my grip and I sat back with no money and strange noises produced by my gut.
"I have a twenty if you want," he smirked at my misfortune.

"I don't want your fucking money," I growled with my stomach.

"You can pay later," he took out a leather crippled wallet.

"I said I don't want anything from you," I looked outside my window and it seemed like every single person who passed me by had some sort of a nutritious item in their hands.
Fuckers! What the fuck is wrong with this country? Always eating! And then they complain about being over weight! and is there any wonder at all?

"Are you sure? No juicy hamburger? No hot fries dipped in fire red ketchup? No warm fluffy pancakes covered in thick sweet maple syrup? No smooth hot coffee? No gently fried chicken?"
He was doing this to fucking spite me! He always messes with my mind and then says I bug him, fucking chicken! He can't even take the blame for that!

"I have all the chicken I can handle right here".

He was about to snap something back when my stomach made the most unflattering loud grumble in the human history, "Well since you're not hungry I'm gonna get something for me"

He quickly got of the car and ran across the road, to the sound of horns and upset drivers, I smiled when an image of him getting hit by a bus floated shortly in my mind before fading to the sound of yet another protest of my digesting system.
I sighed and return my eyes to the tall building my mom and her supposed lover are working, we were sitting here for about 3 hours which seemed like eternity in his company but in fact were not such a long period and my hopes were already high, I should've trusted my mom's judgement like I intended to and not let some motherfucker sway my mind, I can't even imagine how I will face her, look her in the eyes after this, she won't be able to trust me anymore, her own daughter following her!
Yet some force didn't let me just get out and walk home, was it doubt? Was it curiosity? No wonder they say curiosity killed the cat, however in my case it starved it.

The door was yanked open and Geetard climbed back in followed by heavenly scents of deep fried goodies and coffee, I licked my lips subconsciously and stared sternly out of the window, determined not to make eye contact with the evil moron.
"Hmm this is soo good," he moaned as I watched his reflection unwrap a burger and sink his stupid teeth in, "So fucking good,"he smacked his lips delightfully.
I rolled my eyes at his obvious attempts to aggravate me, "The best fucking burger I ever had"

"Will you fucking shut up," I finally snapped.

"What," he licked his fingers, "I'm just enjoying my meal"

"Moron"

"Idiot"

He carried on moaning and groaning and what not, you would think he's having sex with it instead of eating.

"There they are," I exclaimed pointing in a random direction.

"Where?" he chucked and craned his neck to see where I'm pointing.

"There," I wagged my finger in the same direction, " Having wild sex on the curb"

He rolled his eyes, "you should be medicated, you know that?"

I flipped him off.

"Here," he placed a donuts box in my lap, "I can't be bothered to bury you once you starve to death"

"No," I threw the box back at him.

"Just take it," he shoved it back in my hands.

"I don't wanna!," I dumped it back on him.

"You gotta," he insisted.

"Make me!"
And with that the box tore open and 4 donuts fell out, 2 of them rolled sadly on the dirty car floor and the others rested peacefully on Geetard's thigh.

"You know what," he exclaimed, picking up one of the donuts, "I will," he grabbed the back of my neck in a heart beat and shoved the donut in my mouth, my eyes popped in shock and I started squirming away and pushing his hands off but as much as I'd hate to admit it he was stronger and kept shoving the donut in my mouth despite my attempts to press my lips together, I slapped him rather hard on the face.
He looked caught of guard for about a second and then let me go.

"You've completely lost it"," I shrieked, spitting out what he managed to stuff in my mouth.
I had the donut all over me, even some in my hair, "Honestly you're mental! A completely mental fuck up!"

He didn't even bother answering me. He stared ahead, his whole body frozen and tense, I squinted the source that made him react this way...
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