My Angel (Frerard)

2: I'm Not Okay

I walked up to Frank's house and knocked on the door. Two weeks had went by so quickly.

A tall man I assumed was his dad answered the door. "Frank!" The man yelled. "I am assuming this is another one of your friends at the door, so get your ass down here!"

His dad looked abusive. Just by looking at him I could tell.

"Coming!" Frank yelled back. His father studied me. I felt uncomfortable with him staring at me like this. I coughed awkwardly.

"Frank!" He yelled again. "Now! Before I--"

Frank came downstairs. "Oh, hello, Gerard," he smiled. Frank's dad walked away angrily. "Don't mind him. He's just an asshole." I know what that's like, buddy.

I followed Frank upstairs into his room. When I entered, the three guys also in the room stared at me.

"Gerard, these are my friends, Ray and Bob," Frank said. I eyed each of them. The one, Ray, had an afro. His hair was really that curly. He looked really nice. The other one, Bob, on the other hand, looked like he could kill someone just by looking at them. He looked creepy. But then again, I should look at myself.

"Hello," Ray smiled. I smiled back. He seemed very friendly and I knew we'd get along immediately. He had the most kind smile. I could see us being very good friends.

"Hey," Bob said, only looking away from his phone long enough to take a quick look at me. Thank god. If he stared, I might just shoot myself in fear that he would beat me to it.

"Oh, and this is BJ," Frank said, standing next to a taller boy. "He doesn't go to school with us. Or school in general. He's nineteen."

Why the hell is Frank hanging around a nineteen-year-old punk? That's weird. I don't think I like BJ much. He's got arms full of tattoos, but that's not a bad thing. He has short black spiky hair, also not too bad. He also wore a ton of eyeliner. Like, A TON. He also smoked way more cigarettes than me and he drank alcohol a lot. I'm assuming he got Frank into alcohol and all the bad shit because Frank was drunk and obviously stoned.

"Hello," I said politely to everyone. I suddenly didn't wanna be here. I felt a wave of nausea cross my stomach, and I felt like I needed to throw up.

"Gerard is here to have some fun, because I am pretty sure he's never had fun before," Frank announced. Now, I really wanted to go home, but I also was curious of what he was talking about, so I just argued my case anyway.

"Yes, I have!" I argued. I sat down and crossed my legs. I looked at Frank.

"Sure. But not like this, I assume."

"Like what?"

After Frank's parents left for work (they both had the night shift), we got drunk. I never had gotten drunk but once before, and never did it again and I don't know why! It felt awesome! We smoked some cigarettes, goofed off and talked about music and bands and shit. I ended up not going home until 2AM. I walked all the way home and I was freezing. I snuck in my room by climbing through the window. On my bed, Mikey was waiting up for me.

"Gerard!" He exclaimed. He ran to me and hugged me tight. "You're so cold, Gee." He was right. He felt so warm compared to me. But, after all, it was September. And September in New Jersey was freezing.

"Ohh... H-hey Mikey," I slurred, staggering over to my bed to sit. I felt very dizzy and needed to sit for a moment. Mikey walked over to me and sat down beside me. After one look, he looked towards the window again.

He frowned. "You're drunk."

"Y-yeah, a little..." I admitted. I couldn't hide the strong alcohol on my breath. There was no point in lying to Mikey Way. He always knew when I would lie. I wonder how he does that?