Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Secrets Make Don't Make Friends
Slowly, I approach my seat, which is one that sits next to the window. On the outside of the row, a college-aged
student (like me) with black hair is hunched over a drawing pad, pencil in hand, sketching away.
"Excuse me," I say, but not loud enough, so I repeat myself. This time he looks up. My breath catches in my eyes as
I notice his eyes.
"Oh, sorry," he mumbles, standing so I can walk through. I brush by and collapse on the plane seat, as my neighbor
starts sketching again. I glance over curiously, not wanted to seem like a snoop. He's drawing some sort of comic
book. I'm too shy to ask what it's for.
A stewardess comes by and tells him to put stuff away, that we were going to be taking off soon, but he keeps it
out. When she comes by again, he gets a black bag from under his seat and stuffs in his pencil and sketchbook. I
buckle myself up and put my hood on, preparing myself for the worst. I was so busy in my thoughts of the plane's
engine failing right as we were up in the air, that I didn't hear the guy next to me. When I do, I turn to look at
him. I'm not sure what he says, so I ask, "what?"
"I said, you look nervous," he said.
I nod, then say, "yeah, I don't mix well with planes."
He nods, too. "I'm Gerard," he says.
I roll this name around my head a few times. /Gerard/. An interesting name.
"Frank," I say. Just then, the plane starts slowly moving to it's position on the runway, and the jets get louder.
Soon we're speeding down and I'm clenching the arms of the chair. It's all a blur, up to when we're in the air. I
look out the window and see we're above everything, and in the distance there's some storm clouds.
"You alright?" Gerard asks me.
I look over at him, then realize I'm breathing as if I'd just run a marathon. Taking a deep breath, I tell him,
"yep."
Gerard gives me a look, as if to say, 'sureee', but I turn away from him and lean back in my seat again.
After a while, I'm starting to feel a bit better about this whole plane ride thing. The fact that this Gerard boy is
next to me makes it a little more comforting. Up until the captain comes on the intercom and announces that everyone
should buckle up, because there's going to be some turbulance.
As if on que, the plane starts careening every which way, people are screaming, and that's when I think, Holey
shit, I am going to die.
"I hate yappy dogs," I say.
"Excuse me?" Gerard asks. I can feel him look at me, but I keep my eyes right ahead.
"My girlfriend got me a terrier for my birthday, because my other dog died from kidney failure," I continued.
"I'm sorry," Gerard says, not sounding very sorry at all.
"I blame myself that Chuck died. He was a bulldog. Before I went off to Connecticut, he was whining and wouldn't go
pee outside, but I just shrugged off and left. Jamia called me--- Jamia's my girlfriend--- and wouldn't tell me what
was wrong, but I knew something had to be up. When I got home, she told me. I guess she blames herself,
because then she got me the fucking fox terrier from hell."
Gerard's silent.
"Jamia's actually not my soul mate," I blurt out, as the plane bumps through the air. "I know she's not. she think's
we're meant to be, but we're just, not."
Again, he's silent, and I just go on and on. He doesn't even bother to stop me.
I like watching Lizzie McGuire when no one else is around...
...My idea of a perfect date would be one on the beach, just a nothing-fancy picnic, Jamia wants everything to be fancy...
...I lost my virginity with Amy Nestor while my parents were downstairs watching The Green mile...
... I actually dumped Amy for Jamia, they are sisters...
I stole the money from my first guitar, I was working at a magazine stand at the time. Everyone knew, no one said anything...
...fuck, I know I have anger problems, but honestly--- anger management?! Who's idea was it to fucking enroll me in that waste of time...
But I don't stop there. I can't even remember half of what I say.
I can't stand the bass guitarist in my band... not like we're getting anywhere anyway...
...I'm always late coming home, and my girlfriend never says anything...
And worst of all is right before we land, when I say something that I'd never actually said out loud before.
I'm pretty sure I'm gay...
__________
I'm pretty busy lately, so sorry I hardly update any of my stories anymore.
It really makes me want to not update them when I see that I have no reviews.
So reveiw up please!
student (like me) with black hair is hunched over a drawing pad, pencil in hand, sketching away.
"Excuse me," I say, but not loud enough, so I repeat myself. This time he looks up. My breath catches in my eyes as
I notice his eyes.
"Oh, sorry," he mumbles, standing so I can walk through. I brush by and collapse on the plane seat, as my neighbor
starts sketching again. I glance over curiously, not wanted to seem like a snoop. He's drawing some sort of comic
book. I'm too shy to ask what it's for.
A stewardess comes by and tells him to put stuff away, that we were going to be taking off soon, but he keeps it
out. When she comes by again, he gets a black bag from under his seat and stuffs in his pencil and sketchbook. I
buckle myself up and put my hood on, preparing myself for the worst. I was so busy in my thoughts of the plane's
engine failing right as we were up in the air, that I didn't hear the guy next to me. When I do, I turn to look at
him. I'm not sure what he says, so I ask, "what?"
"I said, you look nervous," he said.
I nod, then say, "yeah, I don't mix well with planes."
He nods, too. "I'm Gerard," he says.
I roll this name around my head a few times. /Gerard/. An interesting name.
"Frank," I say. Just then, the plane starts slowly moving to it's position on the runway, and the jets get louder.
Soon we're speeding down and I'm clenching the arms of the chair. It's all a blur, up to when we're in the air. I
look out the window and see we're above everything, and in the distance there's some storm clouds.
"You alright?" Gerard asks me.
I look over at him, then realize I'm breathing as if I'd just run a marathon. Taking a deep breath, I tell him,
"yep."
Gerard gives me a look, as if to say, 'sureee', but I turn away from him and lean back in my seat again.
After a while, I'm starting to feel a bit better about this whole plane ride thing. The fact that this Gerard boy is
next to me makes it a little more comforting. Up until the captain comes on the intercom and announces that everyone
should buckle up, because there's going to be some turbulance.
As if on que, the plane starts careening every which way, people are screaming, and that's when I think, Holey
shit, I am going to die.
"I hate yappy dogs," I say.
"Excuse me?" Gerard asks. I can feel him look at me, but I keep my eyes right ahead.
"My girlfriend got me a terrier for my birthday, because my other dog died from kidney failure," I continued.
"I'm sorry," Gerard says, not sounding very sorry at all.
"I blame myself that Chuck died. He was a bulldog. Before I went off to Connecticut, he was whining and wouldn't go
pee outside, but I just shrugged off and left. Jamia called me--- Jamia's my girlfriend--- and wouldn't tell me what
was wrong, but I knew something had to be up. When I got home, she told me. I guess she blames herself,
because then she got me the fucking fox terrier from hell."
Gerard's silent.
"Jamia's actually not my soul mate," I blurt out, as the plane bumps through the air. "I know she's not. she think's
we're meant to be, but we're just, not."
Again, he's silent, and I just go on and on. He doesn't even bother to stop me.
I like watching Lizzie McGuire when no one else is around...
...My idea of a perfect date would be one on the beach, just a nothing-fancy picnic, Jamia wants everything to be fancy...
...I lost my virginity with Amy Nestor while my parents were downstairs watching The Green mile...
... I actually dumped Amy for Jamia, they are sisters...
I stole the money from my first guitar, I was working at a magazine stand at the time. Everyone knew, no one said anything...
...fuck, I know I have anger problems, but honestly--- anger management?! Who's idea was it to fucking enroll me in that waste of time...
But I don't stop there. I can't even remember half of what I say.
I can't stand the bass guitarist in my band... not like we're getting anywhere anyway...
...I'm always late coming home, and my girlfriend never says anything...
And worst of all is right before we land, when I say something that I'd never actually said out loud before.
I'm pretty sure I'm gay...
__________
I'm pretty busy lately, so sorry I hardly update any of my stories anymore.
It really makes me want to not update them when I see that I have no reviews.
So reveiw up please!
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