Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

How It's Going To Be

Gerard exhaled a cloud of smoke as he lay, eyes closed, on Bert's bed. They had spent most of the previous day there, smoking, making-out, napping.
Nothing more had happened, and Gerard was secretly glad of it. He liked Bert as a friend, but he felt bad for playing with his feelings, and while he was always down for a good drug-fuelled make-out session, he regarded it as nothing more than an interesting way to pass the time.

Gerard was alone now, finishing off the last of Bert's weed before he had to head off to high school. The older boy had left earlier for work, giving Gerard his spare key to lock up and, he'd been sure to mention fervently, to come back anytime. In his words, he'd rather come home to an unexpected house guest than attend a funeral.

"He's a good guy y'know? And you're using him. You should be ashamed."

The voices were chatting silently among themselves, but the friendliest had returned to speak with him again.

"Enh, what do you know." Gerard waved his hand lazily as if to bat away the guilt, "He's a big kid, he knows what he's in for."

But he doesn't really, does he.

"You're gonna break his heart someday. He won't put up with you forever."

"That's fine." Gerard replied, sliding off the mattress and taking a clean shirt out of his backpack. At least I had the foresight to pack clothes.

"He'll be better off without me, but I'll let him come to that on his own."

He gingerly pulled his long-sleeved shirt on over the bandages. Bert had insisted on adding bandaids to his sides and leg, where he'd tried to get creative with his strikes after he'd run out of flesh in his usual location.

This is gonna be annoying. He thought to himself, grimacing as he stooped to tie his boots. And on top of that my fucking foot hurts still. Must've really shot the landing worse than I thought.

"Maybe it's broken? You should probably get it checked if it hurts that bad..."

He rolled his eyes. Of course this one would be worrying about him. This voice was one of the quieter, easily overpowered by the others, but whenever it did come through it was worrying about something.

"Whatever, it's fine." Gerard limped through the front door. He paused in the hallway and called back to the empty room, "Have a good day guys! Don't cause trouble!"

He chuckled at his own joke and headed out, locking the door behind him.

Gerard was late to his first class, but he didn't mind, it meant he'd avoided any opportunity of seeing Ray.
He floated through his day undisturbed, coasting his way through his classes by doodling in the margins of his notebooks.
The dull chatter of the classroom melded with the dull chatter in his head while he himself had remained blissfully lost in the marijuana haze he'd created.

"This too shall pass."

He did a quick shoulder check but couldn't tell where the voice had come from. He was in the hallway now, jammed with students all eager to begin their lunch hour.

Who said that? He silently asked the occupants of his head, Was it one of you? Or was it outside?

Whoever it was, it was ominous as hell.
He was starting to come down from his wake and bake session that morning, and while he knew he could ride it out at least until he got home. He also knew that this was one of the situations when he had the most trouble distinguishing between real and fake.