You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

Nine. (Frank's POV)

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I walked back to my cell and slammed against the bed, sighing. I just needed to think. Surprisingly, being alone didn't make me react like I had a few days ago. Maybe because I had gotten over it. I doubt that though, I couldn't have made it if he hadn't been there with the security guard.

Then I though of Gee. It was true, I had been so mean to him. I don't think he'll ever forgive me for what I said.

I remember the first day I got here, how nice he was, how warm he made me feel when he spoke to me with his adorable voice. I remembered the second breakfast we ate together, we didn't exactly end up eating. I got the living crap kicked out of me and he and Brendon held the bully back. He then comforted me and kissed me.

I freaked and left him, but wasn't really mad. I was angry because I wanted to be. It was what seemed right. Tough when I felt his lips against my forehead, that felt right too. I could never hate Gerard after all he's done for me. If I had another cellmate, like maybe this wimpy skinny guy I saw at lunch the other day, Justin I think it was, something along those lines, then I would've probably become like him.

With Gerard, I had someone to look up to. He knew the prison better, was older, in some ways, he was wiser. Even though the age difference is only two years, he is more mature than me. I figured I needed him not only as a cellmte, but as a friend too. That's something he's good at. He's friends with Pete, Brendon, Patrick, Spencer, the dude with the fro, snd some others I've never met like Andy, Ashley and I think it was Kellin. I'm not good with names, but they all had to stick since they're the only people I can go to and rely on to be there when I fall. No matter how cliche and cheesy it sounds, I needed them all. And where did I get them from? Gerard.

Maybe I did like him. At least if my brain thought it was wrong, my heart definitely though of it as right. I did let him stroke my hair once or twice and hugged him after he stuck that needle through my leg, facing his fear of needles.

Then it hit me. Gerard didn't like me. He loved me. He wouldn't have jammed that needle through me if he didn't care. He wouldn't draw me over and over again, he wouldn't cry over me if he didn't have strong feelings for me.

I realized my cellmate, Nº 489, or Gerard Arthur Way loved me. And I was madly in love with him.