A Fortune For Your Disaster [Frerard]

One - Gerard's POV

Goodbye, cockslut.

Those were the exact words that got I, the glorious Gerard Way, expelled from my last gloriously sucky school. The exact words I stated calmly to my math teacher before smiling and walking straight out of her classroom, with no intention to return there later or even the next day. Or the next. Which quite conveniently seemed to be the school's intention when they expelled me.

To be fair, she probably got pissy at me because there was some truth to it. Hey, it wasn't my fault I had to come across her sucking off the captain of the football team in the boy's locker room. Hell, it wasn't my fault that he was the one that gave me a bloody nose after punching me in the face, which knocked me out for a good ten minutes and clearly called for me going into the locker room to clean myself up.

It really wasn't my fault they were both so stupid, and that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that she gave me twenty dollars to keep quiet, and that I enjoyed making little digs to her about it all the time. I wouldn't try my chances making my little digs with Mr. I Get My Cock Sucked By Math Teachers, because I didn't quite fancy having to make a trip to the locker room to clean up myself after the last time that happened.

From what I've seen in her phone messages, she seems to enjoy sucking student's dicks quite a lot. And also that her husband's dick tastes like glue, which I didn't quite care to dwell on.

Yes, I went through her phone messages - while she was gone, probably making another football player a happy man - because I enjoy learning about people so I can get revenge on them, know how to get them to do what I want. Or it could just be because I'm a nosy fuck, really.

On the odd occasion where that information is of use to me, I do get my revenge. Like the one time some douche decided to hide my backpack in the janitor's closet with a tarantula from the Science room inside, I managed to find out he has a fear of snakes and found a garter in the forest behind my house, which I was perfectly happy to put in his backpack. Oh, how wonderful that was.

I'm not always such a dick, really. I think I'm entitled to get a bit upset at the nicknames people throw at me. Or the fists that they also throw at me. The latter was more painful really, I don't tend to get hurt over the petty name-calling of "fag", "Gerard Gay", or my all time favorite, "emo zebra".

Back to the fact that I'm - ah - expelled. Of course I'm glad to get away from that school. I'm glad to get away from the people there. I'm glad to get away from the cock-loving math teacher. But who's to say my new school won't be just the same? People don't change. Society carries it's ugly stereotypes everywhere you go, like it's glued itself to the back of your shoes with the intent of hovering over your shoulder and whispering black words into your ear to make you believe certain things about people. That girl is a slut. That guy is gay. They are together. Band geek. Emo. Cheerleader. Jock. Basics, really. Only a few observations I've made based off of those black words that've been whispered to me.

It doesn't take a real genius to realize how bullshit those words are though.

That said, I have yet to find someone else who shares the same mindset.

-

"Sweetie. Gerard. Gerard, hun. It's time to get up."

No matter how sweet my mom's voice sounded, it wasn't nearly enough to get me to care about getting up. Why in the world would I choose school over this warm, fuzzy cocoon of blankets? Beats me.

"Gerard. You have about twenty minutes until you're late. Get up."

No. I'm staying right here.

"Gerard, for fuck's sake. I made a pot of coffee."

Alright, I'm listening.

I lifted my head from the pillow, my eyelids still didn't seem to want to open on their own but I pried them open by some miraculous strength that manifested itself in them, and cocked an eyebrow at her.

Mom sighed. "Gerard, this is a one time deal, okay? But I'll buy you a pack of cigarettes if you get up and go to school. Your grades are terrible as is and you need to go to this school. At least your first day, for crying out loud."

Sold.

I shot up from my bed, still tired enough that I wobbled around on my feet and swayed when I walked, but the bribe of coffee and cigarettes was too much to pass up. My mom sure knew how to get me. Donna fucking Way, probably the source of my mind control abilities.

Shit, I thought. I have to put clothes on. And brush my teeth. And make sure my hair doesn't look dreaded. That's a whole lot of effort right there, and I didn't exactly want to put forth any effort this early in the morning.

Groaning very audibly, I grabbed a t-shirt from the floor that probably hadn't been washed in a good three weeks, and a pair of black jeans, and pulled them over my body in the laziest way possible. I had to dance a bit to put the jeans on, which wasn't the greatest, but at least I wasn't in my boxers. I'm sure showing up in my boxers the first day of school would earn me quite the reputation.

Wiggling the toothbrush around your mouth for fifteen seconds counts as brushing, right? I'd just chew some gum later so I didn't murder everyone at the school by simply exhaling.

I jogged down the stairs, anxious to get some coffee in my system. I turned the corner at the end of the stairs into the kitchen, where I saw my brother already sat at the dining table with his fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. His hair was completely unruly and dirty blonde strands were sticking completely up in some places. I stifled a giggle no matter how tired I was, my little brother was something. He gestured with his hand to another mug of coffee that was already prepared, positioned at the other side of the table. How thoughtful.

"G'moorning Mikey," I slurred. Yep, definitely tired. I need that coffee. Right. Now. I more like dropped into the chair than sat in it, but I picked up the coffee and started drinking it like it was the only thing keeping me alive, savoring every mouthful and the wonderful taste that came along. Immediately, I felt more awake and actually able to function slightly.

"Good morning Gee. Uh, you might want to hurry up, school starts in about fifteen minutes." He stated.

"Oh, shit," the realization that I didn't actually want to be late if I could help it hit me, and I gulped down the coffee, not caring how it scalded my tongue and throat. I hissed in response but set my cup on the table with a clank and speed-walked over to grab my backpack. I had to walk to school too. Great.

"You coming, Mikes?" I asked him. I couldn't leave without him. I was actually really exited to be going to school with my brother again. When I was fourteen, I got into this smart-people school, which was nice - but but it put a lot of stress on me with all the pressure to get good grades and the being away from Mikey all day.

Because as horrible as it sounds, he's really my only friend. My best friend, actually.

I had to drive to school before, but this one was only a block or so away, so I could walk.

"Yeah Gee, just a second. Let me get my backpack."

And the rest was history.