Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Greasy Black, Ugly White
So. Hello. I just wanna say, nerds_assemble, if you are reading this, you are completely awesome. Yeah, my over usage of the word awesome is so badass! I’m just so…elegant, huh?
I’m supposed to be in gym class, but yeah, no. I’m not going to run 9729979792321 miles, then lift 789798pound weights. No. So, sorry if this turns out crappy, I’m writing most of this in the hallway at my school, and I’m pretending to work. Hah.
I'm going to be doing a lot of editing, so this may come u a lot more than usual. I have an awesome ending prepared. It's a mixture of sad and happy!
Greasy Black, Ugly White
XIV: Trash Flavored Trash
“If Frank wasn’t a hoodlum”
Gerard woke up the next morning with the worst pain ever. It was only … Gerard didn’t even know. Frank wasn’t in bed next to him as expected. That actually scared Gerard. Sure, he was a little mad; but he had also thought that Frank is now scared of him. Frank could be scared that Gerard hates him?
Gerard began to panic with no reason at all – aside his giant hangover. For some odd reason, he had to find Frank. Even though – fuck, Gerard didn’t know what to feel. His brain is still fucked up from drinking that much whiskey last night.
Gerard got out of bed –wearing nothing but sweat pants- and walked upstairs and into the living room. Mikey was sitting on the chair, as usual, reading the news paper.
“Damn, Gerard. No one wants to see your tits.” Gerard, on instinct, looked down at his nipples. He didn’t have tits! Though, he did have a nasty gash from the rumble on his rib cage.
“Where’s Frank?” Gerard stuttered. The pounding in his head was just enough to make him almost not care. Like going to gym class. Fuck whiskey, Gerard was never drinking again.
“In the kitchen.” Mikey said then coughed pretty loud. Next, he took a sip of his scalding hot coffee, then coughed. “He’s making you something … I dunno. Somethin’ veggie. Hah! Sucks to be you!”
Gerard ran out of the main living room, ignoring Mikey’s coughing and mocking. He saw Frank over the stove, with a pan in his hand. There was flour everywhere. On the counters, the stove, the floor, the table, in his hair, on his clothing, even on the walls. There was a mixing bowl on the table, along with a Betty Crocker cook book. Gerard smiled, despite his swollen cheek.
Frank jumped when he hear foot steps in the kitchen tiles. He turned around to find Gerard shirtless. Frank could’ve sworn the he went to bed with a shirt on. Frank – instead of greeting Gerard with a ‘good morning- just chose to stare at his bare chest. It’s not like Gerard had any muscles, his body wasn’t the best to stare at; but Frank found himself gaping.
For some reason, Gerard found himself awkwardly uncomfortable. There was a weird sizzling noise, then a small pop. Frank turned around on his heels, completely stunned. He didn’t know why Gerard‘s presence seemed more awkward and tense than usual. Oh wait, it’s probably because he violently yanked out the other’s tooth last night. Oops.
Frank cursed under his breath, and then found a plate by all of the flour and other baking materials on the table. He dumped all of the contents from the pan on to the plate. Some things tended to stick, so he used his fingers to peel it off.
Frank walked the plate over to Gerard and said nervously, “Here you go. I made – I tried to make you breakfast,” On the plate was a burnt pancake, scrambled eggs, and bacon. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what you eat for breakfast normally. Or how to even make breakfast.”
Frank shoved the plate more into Gerard’s hands. Once he finally accepted the plate, Frank made a little ‘oops’ sound, then pulled a chair out for Gerard to sit. Next, he cleared –by cleared, that meant he shoved- a small spot on the table. There was egg cartoons, milk, books, flour, and other cooking items on the table; it was full, something even fell on the floor.
“I felt really, really bad for, umm… yanking that outta your mouth last night. So I wanna make it up to you.” Frank mumbled at the floor. Seriously, the floor always had interesting conversations. Frank handed Gerard a fork from a random spot on the table. “Try it?”
Gerard complied. He slowly put the fork to the pancake, and ate a small bite. Oh, soon enough, he bugged his eyes so wide; Satan could even see his fat ass in the reflection. Gerard still didn’t stop chewing, though.
“Umm … you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. Damn, I should have gotten the frozen stuff.” Gerard took another bite, much faster and large bite of the pancake. “Do you like it? I think I put like, way too much sugar inside. The recipe only called for half cup, but I just dumped it all in.”
Gerard looked up at Frank, nodded greatly, and smiled brightly. Frank blushed when he saw all on Gerard’s tiny teeth.
“How’s your- how are you feeling today?” Frank asked as Gerard ate an even larger bite of pancakes. The man did love his sugar. It’s not shit that Frank is failing math; the instructions said one half cup of sugar, not one half bag of sugar.
“… It hurts so much. I have a raging,” Frank bugged his eyes out as the guilt seeped though every pore in his body. “-headache. I should have never drank that much whiskey.”
“So … how’s your tooth feeling?” Gerard looked to Frank with a questioning glare, but the he realized just what Frank was talking about. Gerard carelessly threw his hand onto his mouth and giggled.
“I had forgotten about the pain! I can’t even feel it! My hangover feels worse!” Gerard giggled. Frank –he would never admit this. Maybe he would to Mikey- felt a bit proud of himself.
“So…your tooth feels totally fine? No pain at all?” Frank asked as Gerard practically ate the whole pancake in one bite, without even chewing. Frank couldn’t tell if Gerard was just eating to be polite, or he had the weirdest taste buds ever.
“It feels empty. But none the less, it feels great … Thank you.” Frank was blushing so hard; it hurt down south just to look at. Gerard started to blush, so he had to look away and ‘away’ meant to look at his plate. “Frank? Are you a vegetarian?”
“Yeah… why?” The aftermath of Frank’s blush was slowly wearing away. Gerard looked sort of determined or disappointed.
“Why did you cook me bacon?” Bacon was real meat; none of the fakon stuff. Frank didn’t feel guilty about tearing Gerard’s jaw a new one anymore, so he needing something else to be guilty about. That is frying up meat.
“I uh…I did…maybe because…don’t know…Mikey said…I’m awesome…” Frank mumbled before he came up with a sufficient answer. Frank honestly didn’t know why he cooked it. He was kind of mad at Gerard for having bacon in his reach – almost like a child and the child’s grand father’s pills. “Because I felt bad about your face, so I anted to make it up to you. I don’t know what you eat.”
“You really didn’t have to cook me bacon.” Gerard picked up his fork and took a bite at his scrambled eggs. He noticed how much texture it has, and how much texture scrambled eggs normally has and … how much sugar is on the eggs. “Did you put sugar on scrambled eggs?”
Frank looked back at the floor –he almost considered naming the floor, because of how many conversations they have together- then he looked back at Gerard and smiled shyly. Gerard smiled back and ate more sugar filled scrambled eggs. He’s pretty sure there isn’t a recipe like that in the book.
Next, Gerard took a piece of burnt bacon and shoved it in his mouth.
“Frank. Please. Please. Don’t ever even think about cooking me meat. Just … no. Never touch meat again.” Frank rolled his eyes. Gerard put the bacon back down, and started to eat the rest of the eggs.
“Hey! It’s not like I ate any! I only shoved it on the pan. … Why? What’s wrong with it?” Actually, Frank refused to even touch the raw bacon before slamming it on the frying pan. He used spaghetti tongs to touch it.
“You aren’t supposed to put sugar on any kind of meat. It’s not the same as salt.” Frank looked back at his floor, because the floor really badly wanted to see Frank blush. Can floors get boners?
“Sorry?” Frank wasn’t sorry. It was Gerard’s fault for eating meat. Frank never had a problem with other people eating meat, he was understanding about that. But when it comes to him and meat, no. Frank wasn’t going to be that friendly.
Gerard just laughed. After he finished eating the scrambled eggs, he ate the bacon. Yes, the sugar filled bacon. Gerard and Mikey Way both did have a thing for sugar.
“Would you like some coffee?” Frank asked, even though he wasn’t going to listen to Gerard’s answer. Frank stumbled over to the finishing coffee pot. He poured two cups; but Frank doesn’t really like sugar in his coffee, so he resided from putting it in. “Here.” He said and pushed the cup towards Gerard. “No sugar.”
“It’s cute when you put sugar on everything. Like a, like a five year old who finally gets to make its own food.” Gerard giggled as he began chugging the scalding hot coffee. Seriously, the coffee was hotter than fire; it was hotter than my sister; and Gerard chugged half of it like it was hot as a rock.
“Don’t call me a five year old. If I am, that makes you a perv.” Frank scolded. He already ha enough people calling him ten, why would he want to be called a five year old?
“Honey, I already am a perv. A big, fat, sugar loving, perv.” Gerard winked at Frank. Frank badly wanted to run over to Gerard and attack him in every angle, but that would just twist his point around.
“OH!” Frank gasped loudly and excitedly. “I almost forgot!” Frank jumped and slid over to the table. He lifted up the opened cook book that was lying on top of another large pile. Frank picked up something covered in chocolate. Cake.
“Oh, Frank. I fucking love you right now.” Gerard said, already drooling.
**
“Frank, Frank, Frank!” Mikey giggled. He and Frank were sitting in their second hour math class, and Mikey couldn’t stop laughing. Any minute now, Frank would assume that Mikey is on pot or something like that.
Frank decided to just ignore Mikey and attempt to do the oh so impossible algebra.
X+8=52
Frank knew the answer with out a calculator. But no! The teacher forces them to show their work. The work where he’d have to actually do extra than needed, and it made it more complicated. That work. Frank couldn’t solve equations like that, he knew the easy way, were fifty-two divided by eight.
Sorry for ranting about my math class.
“Frank…you’re actually doing the math? …Can you tell me the answers?” Mikey stared at Frank as if he had the answers to life. Frank sighed because he couldn’t figure out any problems and the last problem he most likely got wrong. But, he shrugged and handed the paper over to Mikey anyways.
“Dude.” Mikey said after a second of copying the work. “You got most of these wrong… Way wrong.” (hehehe Way) “You’re supposed to divide, not multiply.”
“What do you mean? How do you know if they’re wrong or not?” Frank could almost feel rage rise u to his throat. He wasn’t mad at Mikey for telling him that it’s wrong even though it is wrong. But he was mad because Mikey couldn’t do his own damn wrong, then he says it’s wrong.
“Because. You’re not supposed to add X and Y together. They cannot combine.” Mikey rolled his eyes. Then Frank rolled his eyes. Mikey was a pain in the ass…
“Then you do it.” Frank spat back. He was super annoyed with Mikey. It could be the fact that he has a giant ass headache, or maybe Frank just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. The point is, Frank is just having one of those days where he just wants to cry. For no fucking reason.
“Sure.” Luckily for Frank, Mikey seemed to be good at math. He took Frank’s paper and pen, then just zoomed through the mathematical equations. Mikey got done with correcting all of the problems that Frank made a mistake on. He did it all in under two minutes tops. “See?”
“Wow…you’re…you’re actually good at math.” Frank was speechless. The boy who never even goes to class is a mathematical genius. Why is Mikey in Frank’s math class again?
“Yup.”
**
After math class, Frank had to go to history. The cool thing is that: history class is awesome and it made Frank feel better about himself. If Frank wasn’t a hoodlum, he would be in AP history.
Frank walked down the school corridors –headache growing larger- and then he had to laugh. He had to laugh. Patrick was walking five feet in front of him and his face! His face looks just as bad as Gerard’s…Frank was smugly proud.
“What the fuck you laughing at, greaser?” Patrick scolded Frank. Frank didn’t want to stop laughing because his face was so bruised, but by natural reactions, Frank did cease the laughter.
“Nothing.” Patrick didn’t seem too convinced. Patrick stepped way too close to Franks and whispered:
“You know, just for this. Imma make you look uglier than your mongrel boy-toy.” Frank didn’t feel very threatened by Patrick anymore. He did feel even, but something about Patrick made his voice linger in Frank’s thoughts.
Frank ignored him and walked straight into history class. Mikey was already sitting there, alone. Frank waved and sat next to him, feeling pinker than a rainbow.
“Frank?” The teacher called out from his desk. Frank always felt nervous talking to teachers. He’s never actually had a real conversation with any of them. Frank nervously stepped up to the teacher desk to see him frown.
“Your work…hasn’t been very… You haven’t been doing very good, lately.” Frank badly wanted to correct the teacher’s grammar, but he didn’t think right now would be a suitable time.
“What do you mean?”
“Well…you have a failing grade in this class… Is there a reason?” Is there a reason for failing class? Yeah… yeah there is a fucking reason. Frank had to resist the urge to rip the teacher’s head off. He should be in AP history, Damnit!
“Maybe because I hate this school, I hate the kids here, I hate you and I hate Mikey! What other reason do you want? Oh, yeah I may or may not have forgot to call you and say, ‘oh yeah, hey, teach. Yeah, no. I’m totally fine, my mother died a horrible death and all but, HEY! At least it wasn’t me in the car now, huh? So yeah! I am just fucking super!” Maybe now wasn’t the time to tell his life story to a teacher.
The whole class was silent and listening.
“Oh yeah… Did I mention that I have a cry-baby for a boy friend and hmm… lemme guess. …I dunno, teach. You tell me. You’re the one who gave me this as a grade, so if it’s you who’s so upset about it. Then why don’t you change it, huh?”
“Frank… would you like to go see a nurse… or maybe an exorcist?” The teacher asked somewhat scared. Frank could just burst out laughing and crying at the same time. What the fuck?
“No.” Frank said, but he found him self walking out side anyways.
“FrankFrankFrank.” Mikey said seconds later when they were in the hall. Frank rolled his eyes and forbid himself from crying. Mikey coughed really, really loudly; probably because he was running to catch up. Why did Mikey go to school when he was sick?
“Frank.” Mikey said again once he did catch up. “Hey, man, you okay? Like, the whole class is talking about you now.” Yeah, like Frank gave two shits about what others ha to say…
“I don’t care.” Frank shot back. Mikey grabbed Frank’s arm.
“Hey… you hungry?” Frank gave Mikey one of those looks. The look like, why would Mikey be talking about food now? Frank unconsciously nodded. “Cool. Lunch is next hour. Let’s ditch this and go to Gerard’s work.”
**
“Why is he taking so long?” Frank asked impatiently. They had been sitting at Gerard’s diner for about half an hour. Gerard greeted them quickly with out even sparing a single glance, and then he told them to wait. And they’re waiting.
“Gerard does actually work, yanno.” Mikey said as he sipped at his complementary water. That’s right…Frank had never actually seen Gerard work, only heard stories about him working. Like that one story when Gerard was on sabbatical. So, Frank had a hard time picturing Gerard working.
“Shit. That’s right. I didn’t think that I could ever see him working.” Frank shrugged. He slammed his book down on the table.
“Why, ‘cause he’s gay?” Mikey asked in a very mean tone. He sounded more than pissed off, and the look in his eyes told everyone that he was dead serious.
“You know that-“
“I am sick an tired of all of these homophobes! And –and –” Mikey shouted and was interrupted by Frank shouting back,
“Mikey! You know that I certainly don’t have a problem with being gay! And yes, gay people can work just as efficient as straight people and…y’know, and I kind of agree with the whole ‘gay thing’, as being gay my self,” Frank mumbled quietly. “and I’m sort of your brother’s live-in boyfriend so,”
“Man, I’m just messing with you.” Mikey laughed. Frank laughed with him. And as if just on queue, Gerard walked u to them seeming more tired than ever.
“Hello, Frank. Mikey.” Gerard said. Frank moved his seat over and made room for Gerard to sit. Mikey nodded at Gerard’s greeting.
“Hey, Gee.” Gerard kissed Frank’s cheek.
“Why aren’t you at school?” Gerard asked with some disappointment. Almost like a parent scolding their child. cough, cough When Frank didn’t respond, Gerard asked again with some anger, “Why aren’t you at school?” The cold anger laced in Gerard’s voice gave Frank the chills.
“I…I” Frank didn’t know what to say, so he looked at Mikey for help. Why was he suddenly scared of Gerard and his damn voice?
“OH YEAH! It was so funny! He like, lashed out at the teacher because the teacher was being a major dick to Frank. Then, then the teacher was so scared!” Frank didn’t know how to explain the real reason for lashing out at the teacher because he couldn’t think of another reason. Frank didn’t scream because of his failure, but he still couldn’t lace the real reason…
“What did the teacher say to you?” Gerard asked, though it was more of a demand. Frank shrugged.
“He just, called me a dumbass for no reason.” Gerard looked sad for a second, then angry, the sad again. After a moment of silence, Gerard said,
“Okay. Why don’t you guys get back to class, and I’ll come pick you up. I have to work right now, so, I’ll see you when I get done.” Frank was disappointed now, because he felt that if he went back there, he would die, or something on the contrary bad would happen.
Frank and Mikey drove back to school and headed late to their sixth hour late. The teacher their, handed out report cards… Frank’s jaw dropped – he was failing ever class except for English. But that is only because the teacher is a drunk.
Frank could just tell that there are people behind him laughing at him. Probably for failing school and for yelling at the teacher.
Frank felt fucked.
Yeah, chapter is kind of short but… whatever. This is supposed to be an important chapter, but yeah. Hope this chapter is sufficient.
Have a good weekend. Say, do you guys like it when I put the little ‘next chapter’ things at the end? Is it annoying or good?
Don't say anything about me making Frank fail his classes, he's not stupid. I just need to add that so shut up and stop complaining.
Though, if you have read Frank's old college work...his grammar and spelling isn't the best. Mine sucks but damn!
Next chapter: fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfcugjhhjdskhajksfhjlsglfhlafuck.
I’m supposed to be in gym class, but yeah, no. I’m not going to run 9729979792321 miles, then lift 789798pound weights. No. So, sorry if this turns out crappy, I’m writing most of this in the hallway at my school, and I’m pretending to work. Hah.
I'm going to be doing a lot of editing, so this may come u a lot more than usual. I have an awesome ending prepared. It's a mixture of sad and happy!
Greasy Black, Ugly White
XIV: Trash Flavored Trash
“If Frank wasn’t a hoodlum”
Gerard woke up the next morning with the worst pain ever. It was only … Gerard didn’t even know. Frank wasn’t in bed next to him as expected. That actually scared Gerard. Sure, he was a little mad; but he had also thought that Frank is now scared of him. Frank could be scared that Gerard hates him?
Gerard began to panic with no reason at all – aside his giant hangover. For some odd reason, he had to find Frank. Even though – fuck, Gerard didn’t know what to feel. His brain is still fucked up from drinking that much whiskey last night.
Gerard got out of bed –wearing nothing but sweat pants- and walked upstairs and into the living room. Mikey was sitting on the chair, as usual, reading the news paper.
“Damn, Gerard. No one wants to see your tits.” Gerard, on instinct, looked down at his nipples. He didn’t have tits! Though, he did have a nasty gash from the rumble on his rib cage.
“Where’s Frank?” Gerard stuttered. The pounding in his head was just enough to make him almost not care. Like going to gym class. Fuck whiskey, Gerard was never drinking again.
“In the kitchen.” Mikey said then coughed pretty loud. Next, he took a sip of his scalding hot coffee, then coughed. “He’s making you something … I dunno. Somethin’ veggie. Hah! Sucks to be you!”
Gerard ran out of the main living room, ignoring Mikey’s coughing and mocking. He saw Frank over the stove, with a pan in his hand. There was flour everywhere. On the counters, the stove, the floor, the table, in his hair, on his clothing, even on the walls. There was a mixing bowl on the table, along with a Betty Crocker cook book. Gerard smiled, despite his swollen cheek.
Frank jumped when he hear foot steps in the kitchen tiles. He turned around to find Gerard shirtless. Frank could’ve sworn the he went to bed with a shirt on. Frank – instead of greeting Gerard with a ‘good morning- just chose to stare at his bare chest. It’s not like Gerard had any muscles, his body wasn’t the best to stare at; but Frank found himself gaping.
For some reason, Gerard found himself awkwardly uncomfortable. There was a weird sizzling noise, then a small pop. Frank turned around on his heels, completely stunned. He didn’t know why Gerard‘s presence seemed more awkward and tense than usual. Oh wait, it’s probably because he violently yanked out the other’s tooth last night. Oops.
Frank cursed under his breath, and then found a plate by all of the flour and other baking materials on the table. He dumped all of the contents from the pan on to the plate. Some things tended to stick, so he used his fingers to peel it off.
Frank walked the plate over to Gerard and said nervously, “Here you go. I made – I tried to make you breakfast,” On the plate was a burnt pancake, scrambled eggs, and bacon. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what you eat for breakfast normally. Or how to even make breakfast.”
Frank shoved the plate more into Gerard’s hands. Once he finally accepted the plate, Frank made a little ‘oops’ sound, then pulled a chair out for Gerard to sit. Next, he cleared –by cleared, that meant he shoved- a small spot on the table. There was egg cartoons, milk, books, flour, and other cooking items on the table; it was full, something even fell on the floor.
“I felt really, really bad for, umm… yanking that outta your mouth last night. So I wanna make it up to you.” Frank mumbled at the floor. Seriously, the floor always had interesting conversations. Frank handed Gerard a fork from a random spot on the table. “Try it?”
Gerard complied. He slowly put the fork to the pancake, and ate a small bite. Oh, soon enough, he bugged his eyes so wide; Satan could even see his fat ass in the reflection. Gerard still didn’t stop chewing, though.
“Umm … you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. Damn, I should have gotten the frozen stuff.” Gerard took another bite, much faster and large bite of the pancake. “Do you like it? I think I put like, way too much sugar inside. The recipe only called for half cup, but I just dumped it all in.”
Gerard looked up at Frank, nodded greatly, and smiled brightly. Frank blushed when he saw all on Gerard’s tiny teeth.
“How’s your- how are you feeling today?” Frank asked as Gerard ate an even larger bite of pancakes. The man did love his sugar. It’s not shit that Frank is failing math; the instructions said one half cup of sugar, not one half bag of sugar.
“… It hurts so much. I have a raging,” Frank bugged his eyes out as the guilt seeped though every pore in his body. “-headache. I should have never drank that much whiskey.”
“So … how’s your tooth feeling?” Gerard looked to Frank with a questioning glare, but the he realized just what Frank was talking about. Gerard carelessly threw his hand onto his mouth and giggled.
“I had forgotten about the pain! I can’t even feel it! My hangover feels worse!” Gerard giggled. Frank –he would never admit this. Maybe he would to Mikey- felt a bit proud of himself.
“So…your tooth feels totally fine? No pain at all?” Frank asked as Gerard practically ate the whole pancake in one bite, without even chewing. Frank couldn’t tell if Gerard was just eating to be polite, or he had the weirdest taste buds ever.
“It feels empty. But none the less, it feels great … Thank you.” Frank was blushing so hard; it hurt down south just to look at. Gerard started to blush, so he had to look away and ‘away’ meant to look at his plate. “Frank? Are you a vegetarian?”
“Yeah… why?” The aftermath of Frank’s blush was slowly wearing away. Gerard looked sort of determined or disappointed.
“Why did you cook me bacon?” Bacon was real meat; none of the fakon stuff. Frank didn’t feel guilty about tearing Gerard’s jaw a new one anymore, so he needing something else to be guilty about. That is frying up meat.
“I uh…I did…maybe because…don’t know…Mikey said…I’m awesome…” Frank mumbled before he came up with a sufficient answer. Frank honestly didn’t know why he cooked it. He was kind of mad at Gerard for having bacon in his reach – almost like a child and the child’s grand father’s pills. “Because I felt bad about your face, so I anted to make it up to you. I don’t know what you eat.”
“You really didn’t have to cook me bacon.” Gerard picked up his fork and took a bite at his scrambled eggs. He noticed how much texture it has, and how much texture scrambled eggs normally has and … how much sugar is on the eggs. “Did you put sugar on scrambled eggs?”
Frank looked back at the floor –he almost considered naming the floor, because of how many conversations they have together- then he looked back at Gerard and smiled shyly. Gerard smiled back and ate more sugar filled scrambled eggs. He’s pretty sure there isn’t a recipe like that in the book.
Next, Gerard took a piece of burnt bacon and shoved it in his mouth.
“Frank. Please. Please. Don’t ever even think about cooking me meat. Just … no. Never touch meat again.” Frank rolled his eyes. Gerard put the bacon back down, and started to eat the rest of the eggs.
“Hey! It’s not like I ate any! I only shoved it on the pan. … Why? What’s wrong with it?” Actually, Frank refused to even touch the raw bacon before slamming it on the frying pan. He used spaghetti tongs to touch it.
“You aren’t supposed to put sugar on any kind of meat. It’s not the same as salt.” Frank looked back at his floor, because the floor really badly wanted to see Frank blush. Can floors get boners?
“Sorry?” Frank wasn’t sorry. It was Gerard’s fault for eating meat. Frank never had a problem with other people eating meat, he was understanding about that. But when it comes to him and meat, no. Frank wasn’t going to be that friendly.
Gerard just laughed. After he finished eating the scrambled eggs, he ate the bacon. Yes, the sugar filled bacon. Gerard and Mikey Way both did have a thing for sugar.
“Would you like some coffee?” Frank asked, even though he wasn’t going to listen to Gerard’s answer. Frank stumbled over to the finishing coffee pot. He poured two cups; but Frank doesn’t really like sugar in his coffee, so he resided from putting it in. “Here.” He said and pushed the cup towards Gerard. “No sugar.”
“It’s cute when you put sugar on everything. Like a, like a five year old who finally gets to make its own food.” Gerard giggled as he began chugging the scalding hot coffee. Seriously, the coffee was hotter than fire; it was hotter than my sister; and Gerard chugged half of it like it was hot as a rock.
“Don’t call me a five year old. If I am, that makes you a perv.” Frank scolded. He already ha enough people calling him ten, why would he want to be called a five year old?
“Honey, I already am a perv. A big, fat, sugar loving, perv.” Gerard winked at Frank. Frank badly wanted to run over to Gerard and attack him in every angle, but that would just twist his point around.
“OH!” Frank gasped loudly and excitedly. “I almost forgot!” Frank jumped and slid over to the table. He lifted up the opened cook book that was lying on top of another large pile. Frank picked up something covered in chocolate. Cake.
“Oh, Frank. I fucking love you right now.” Gerard said, already drooling.
**
“Frank, Frank, Frank!” Mikey giggled. He and Frank were sitting in their second hour math class, and Mikey couldn’t stop laughing. Any minute now, Frank would assume that Mikey is on pot or something like that.
Frank decided to just ignore Mikey and attempt to do the oh so impossible algebra.
X+8=52
Frank knew the answer with out a calculator. But no! The teacher forces them to show their work. The work where he’d have to actually do extra than needed, and it made it more complicated. That work. Frank couldn’t solve equations like that, he knew the easy way, were fifty-two divided by eight.
Sorry for ranting about my math class.
“Frank…you’re actually doing the math? …Can you tell me the answers?” Mikey stared at Frank as if he had the answers to life. Frank sighed because he couldn’t figure out any problems and the last problem he most likely got wrong. But, he shrugged and handed the paper over to Mikey anyways.
“Dude.” Mikey said after a second of copying the work. “You got most of these wrong… Way wrong.” (hehehe Way) “You’re supposed to divide, not multiply.”
“What do you mean? How do you know if they’re wrong or not?” Frank could almost feel rage rise u to his throat. He wasn’t mad at Mikey for telling him that it’s wrong even though it is wrong. But he was mad because Mikey couldn’t do his own damn wrong, then he says it’s wrong.
“Because. You’re not supposed to add X and Y together. They cannot combine.” Mikey rolled his eyes. Then Frank rolled his eyes. Mikey was a pain in the ass…
“Then you do it.” Frank spat back. He was super annoyed with Mikey. It could be the fact that he has a giant ass headache, or maybe Frank just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. The point is, Frank is just having one of those days where he just wants to cry. For no fucking reason.
“Sure.” Luckily for Frank, Mikey seemed to be good at math. He took Frank’s paper and pen, then just zoomed through the mathematical equations. Mikey got done with correcting all of the problems that Frank made a mistake on. He did it all in under two minutes tops. “See?”
“Wow…you’re…you’re actually good at math.” Frank was speechless. The boy who never even goes to class is a mathematical genius. Why is Mikey in Frank’s math class again?
“Yup.”
**
After math class, Frank had to go to history. The cool thing is that: history class is awesome and it made Frank feel better about himself. If Frank wasn’t a hoodlum, he would be in AP history.
Frank walked down the school corridors –headache growing larger- and then he had to laugh. He had to laugh. Patrick was walking five feet in front of him and his face! His face looks just as bad as Gerard’s…Frank was smugly proud.
“What the fuck you laughing at, greaser?” Patrick scolded Frank. Frank didn’t want to stop laughing because his face was so bruised, but by natural reactions, Frank did cease the laughter.
“Nothing.” Patrick didn’t seem too convinced. Patrick stepped way too close to Franks and whispered:
“You know, just for this. Imma make you look uglier than your mongrel boy-toy.” Frank didn’t feel very threatened by Patrick anymore. He did feel even, but something about Patrick made his voice linger in Frank’s thoughts.
Frank ignored him and walked straight into history class. Mikey was already sitting there, alone. Frank waved and sat next to him, feeling pinker than a rainbow.
“Frank?” The teacher called out from his desk. Frank always felt nervous talking to teachers. He’s never actually had a real conversation with any of them. Frank nervously stepped up to the teacher desk to see him frown.
“Your work…hasn’t been very… You haven’t been doing very good, lately.” Frank badly wanted to correct the teacher’s grammar, but he didn’t think right now would be a suitable time.
“What do you mean?”
“Well…you have a failing grade in this class… Is there a reason?” Is there a reason for failing class? Yeah… yeah there is a fucking reason. Frank had to resist the urge to rip the teacher’s head off. He should be in AP history, Damnit!
“Maybe because I hate this school, I hate the kids here, I hate you and I hate Mikey! What other reason do you want? Oh, yeah I may or may not have forgot to call you and say, ‘oh yeah, hey, teach. Yeah, no. I’m totally fine, my mother died a horrible death and all but, HEY! At least it wasn’t me in the car now, huh? So yeah! I am just fucking super!” Maybe now wasn’t the time to tell his life story to a teacher.
The whole class was silent and listening.
“Oh yeah… Did I mention that I have a cry-baby for a boy friend and hmm… lemme guess. …I dunno, teach. You tell me. You’re the one who gave me this as a grade, so if it’s you who’s so upset about it. Then why don’t you change it, huh?”
“Frank… would you like to go see a nurse… or maybe an exorcist?” The teacher asked somewhat scared. Frank could just burst out laughing and crying at the same time. What the fuck?
“No.” Frank said, but he found him self walking out side anyways.
“FrankFrankFrank.” Mikey said seconds later when they were in the hall. Frank rolled his eyes and forbid himself from crying. Mikey coughed really, really loudly; probably because he was running to catch up. Why did Mikey go to school when he was sick?
“Frank.” Mikey said again once he did catch up. “Hey, man, you okay? Like, the whole class is talking about you now.” Yeah, like Frank gave two shits about what others ha to say…
“I don’t care.” Frank shot back. Mikey grabbed Frank’s arm.
“Hey… you hungry?” Frank gave Mikey one of those looks. The look like, why would Mikey be talking about food now? Frank unconsciously nodded. “Cool. Lunch is next hour. Let’s ditch this and go to Gerard’s work.”
**
“Why is he taking so long?” Frank asked impatiently. They had been sitting at Gerard’s diner for about half an hour. Gerard greeted them quickly with out even sparing a single glance, and then he told them to wait. And they’re waiting.
“Gerard does actually work, yanno.” Mikey said as he sipped at his complementary water. That’s right…Frank had never actually seen Gerard work, only heard stories about him working. Like that one story when Gerard was on sabbatical. So, Frank had a hard time picturing Gerard working.
“Shit. That’s right. I didn’t think that I could ever see him working.” Frank shrugged. He slammed his book down on the table.
“Why, ‘cause he’s gay?” Mikey asked in a very mean tone. He sounded more than pissed off, and the look in his eyes told everyone that he was dead serious.
“You know that-“
“I am sick an tired of all of these homophobes! And –and –” Mikey shouted and was interrupted by Frank shouting back,
“Mikey! You know that I certainly don’t have a problem with being gay! And yes, gay people can work just as efficient as straight people and…y’know, and I kind of agree with the whole ‘gay thing’, as being gay my self,” Frank mumbled quietly. “and I’m sort of your brother’s live-in boyfriend so,”
“Man, I’m just messing with you.” Mikey laughed. Frank laughed with him. And as if just on queue, Gerard walked u to them seeming more tired than ever.
“Hello, Frank. Mikey.” Gerard said. Frank moved his seat over and made room for Gerard to sit. Mikey nodded at Gerard’s greeting.
“Hey, Gee.” Gerard kissed Frank’s cheek.
“Why aren’t you at school?” Gerard asked with some disappointment. Almost like a parent scolding their child. cough, cough When Frank didn’t respond, Gerard asked again with some anger, “Why aren’t you at school?” The cold anger laced in Gerard’s voice gave Frank the chills.
“I…I” Frank didn’t know what to say, so he looked at Mikey for help. Why was he suddenly scared of Gerard and his damn voice?
“OH YEAH! It was so funny! He like, lashed out at the teacher because the teacher was being a major dick to Frank. Then, then the teacher was so scared!” Frank didn’t know how to explain the real reason for lashing out at the teacher because he couldn’t think of another reason. Frank didn’t scream because of his failure, but he still couldn’t lace the real reason…
“What did the teacher say to you?” Gerard asked, though it was more of a demand. Frank shrugged.
“He just, called me a dumbass for no reason.” Gerard looked sad for a second, then angry, the sad again. After a moment of silence, Gerard said,
“Okay. Why don’t you guys get back to class, and I’ll come pick you up. I have to work right now, so, I’ll see you when I get done.” Frank was disappointed now, because he felt that if he went back there, he would die, or something on the contrary bad would happen.
Frank and Mikey drove back to school and headed late to their sixth hour late. The teacher their, handed out report cards… Frank’s jaw dropped – he was failing ever class except for English. But that is only because the teacher is a drunk.
Frank could just tell that there are people behind him laughing at him. Probably for failing school and for yelling at the teacher.
Frank felt fucked.
Yeah, chapter is kind of short but… whatever. This is supposed to be an important chapter, but yeah. Hope this chapter is sufficient.
Have a good weekend. Say, do you guys like it when I put the little ‘next chapter’ things at the end? Is it annoying or good?
Don't say anything about me making Frank fail his classes, he's not stupid. I just need to add that so shut up and stop complaining.
Though, if you have read Frank's old college work...his grammar and spelling isn't the best. Mine sucks but damn!
Next chapter: fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfcugjhhjdskhajksfhjlsglfhlafuck.
Sign up to rate and review this story