The pirate boy (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter twelve - I'm a fucking swan

Chapter twelve - I'm a fucking swan

You are blind to what you can't hear. You are deaf to what you can't see.

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Like many things, once I put in the practice, fighting became much easier with time.

Managing Gerard, however, did not.

We'd reached a stage in our training sessions where I was able to take him down and pin him to the floor, my hands around his throat and a knife within reach, and I would be so close to winning – but every time, he would do something obnoxious like lick my hand or snigger a childish insult at me and I would lose my concentration.

I still had yet to beat him in training and in our ever-tedious quarrels, which had recently progressed from petty arguments over the last biscuit to infuriated complaints about each other's mere existence.

Gerard was not faring well without alcohol.

He was still persistently vicious in our training sessions, strangling me with a determination I'd never seen the likes of before, but he seemed to have completely lost the energy to be a decent human being. Still, his violent teaching methods were working surprisingly well. I was really starting to enjoy the adrenaline rush I got from treading on him.

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"Treading on me is not a proper fighting move," Gerard hissed in irritation as I stepped off his stomach.

"I think it'd work pretty well to stop people running away with our stuff," I said.

Gerard snarled. "You're not supposed to question me," he said. "I have expert knowledge."

I scoffed. "You're just upset that I'm actually catching up to you."

Gerard looked a little bewildered. "Are you?"

"I've knocked you flat on your back four times today."

Gerard suddenly smiled the biggest smile I'd ever seen on his face before. Perhaps the only genuine smile I'd ever seen on his face before. "This means you're almost trained! I can almost drink again!" he beamed.

I rolled my eyes. "That's wonderful."

"You do realise that the more I drink, the less I'll insult you."

I smiled. "But I love your insults. They're so underdeveloped and thoughtless. Just like you."

It was only about a millisecond before Gerard lunged.

I chuckled as he pressed his dagger against my throat. "I only said that to get another fight out of you," I said.

Gerard loosened his grip on my neck–

"Although it is true," I added.

–Then he kneed me in the crotch.

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Night had fallen and lamps provided light only sufficient enough to see how much rum was left in your glass, and everyone had clumped into a big drunk crowd up on deck. Gerard and I sat, leant against the railings of the boat, not really clumped together, and most certainly, painfully, not drunk.

Crew members laughed and slurred allegedly hysterical anecdotes to one another, and Patrick and Ryan hobbled around together to Ray's guitar, guffawing, then pretending to ballroom dance when Ray began to play a more ambient song.

I was so immensely bored, I had almost convinced myself that I was actually going to die from it. That was when Dewees thundered over, drink in hand and a massive stupid grin on his face, and of course I said yes when he offered to find me something entertaining to do. I regretted it immediately. The something turned out to be Gerard.