Here's to the Heartache (Frerard) *Discontinued*

4: Frank Is A Fourteen Year Old Girl With A Crush All Because Of Gerard

Even though Mikey's apartment building wasn't that far of a walk - maybe fifteen minutes at the most under ideal conditions, Frank was exhausted already from carrying most of Mikey's weight on his shoulders, and they had barely even made it halfway.

Frank had plenty of practice dragging his own drunk ass home after a long night, but this was the first time he had ever had to take into account someone else who was in a worse state then him, and Mikey wasn't drunk, which was something he kept having to remind himself of.

Mikey had been silent for over five minutes now, and Frank was really beginning to worry about him. Even though he had assured Frank numerous times that he would be fine after a few hours, Frank wasn't so certain.

What if he really was suffering from an overdose, and Frank just didn't realize it. He didn't have any previous experience with drugs, so he wouldn't be able to recognize the signs of one if that was indeed the case, so he just had to hope that Mikey was right about this.

"Come on Mikey, talk to me," Frank huffed out, needing to make sure that he hadn't passed out on him or something, even though his feet were still stumbling along lazily, which meant he had to be at least partially conscious.

"What do you want me to say?" Mikey mumbled softly, and Frank exhaled a sigh of relief at the fact that Mikey was still semi-functioning.

"I don't care, anything really. Tell me something I don't know about you," Frank shrugged. That was a pretty broad topic since he had only met Mikey a few hours ago, so that should give him plenty of options.

"I used to be in a band," Mikey sighed out after another minute of nothing but Frank's heavy breathing and their echoing footfalls resounding down the quiet street.

"Oh yeah? Were you any good?" Frank had to admit that the fact that Mikey was a musician made him even hotter in his eyes, but now was not the time for those thoughts.

"Yeah man, I think we were pretty decent, even though that might make me sound stuck up or something," Mikey chuckled dryly.

"What were you called?" Frank asked, trying to keep Mikey's attention on their conversation, and not on how far they still had to go.

"My Chemical Romance. I thought of the name actually, it was the title of some book I saw when I worked at Barnes and Noble, and I always loved it. So when my brother came to me with this crazy idea to get a band together, I suggested it, and he went for it."

"Hmm...I haven't heard of you guys, but I'm more of a classic rock guy myself. What instrument did you play?" Talking with Mikey was actually doing a good job of distracting Frank from his aching limbs and Mikey's dead weight, not to mention he was genuinely interested in Mikey's band.

"I was the bass player, I taught myself just so I could be in the band - dropped out of college and everything for it, and then Gerard goes and ends it before we barely even got started." Mikey's words were laced with venom, and Frank winced in sympathy. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must feel like to have your band break up, but from the way Mikey was reacting just from talking about it, it really fucking sucked.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did he call it off?" Frank could sense that this was something Mikey would never talk about when sober, especially not to a complete stranger, but Frank was truly curious about what had happened.

"I don't even know...it was so unexpected. The band was his baby; he created it, and then one day, out of the blue, he says it's over. I mean, yeah - a lot of shit happened, and we were all getting pretty fucked up, but breaking up the band only made it worse in my opinion," Mikey scoffed angrily, and even though Frank really wanted to know more, they had finally made it to the apartment complex that Mikey had said he lived in, which was called Synergy Gardens, whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.