November 1st (Frerard)

5: Friday, October 5th

Kat had always had an awful habit of waking up at stupid times in the morning, and in consequence, always being the first awake in the morning, which they supposed was okay at 'home', when they had the extra hour or so to themselves, to sneak out and experience the world in peace and the freedom of their own company, but here, in Pete's bedroom, on a Friday morning, Kat was just awake, awkward, and alone.

They glanced at the sleeping boy in the bed beside them, and wondered what was to become of the events that had happened in the very early hours of the morning, with only a night light illuminating the room that was possibly even smaller than Pete himself, and whispered voices: hushed tones, like every movement, every sound was a secret, but of course, it had to be that way, and Kat was in no position to resent that.

Kat was in no position to resent anything; they owed everyone too much, and pushed away deadlines and made up excuses, and they knew in their heart that deep down, they weren't going to make it home today either.

They worried for Gerard, of course, and how he could possibly react to them breaking their promise, and what their parents would say, and what Pete would say, when Kat was still here come five pm, as opposed to the hell that called itself five am that Kat sat on the end of Pete's bed in currently.

Perhaps they'd just have to find another bed: another house, another boy, because on Wednesday it had been Frank and the dream that Kat had been unsuccessful in pushing to the back of their mind, and yesterday it was Pete and the history they couldn't quite bury, and the whispered secrets that the bedroom walls were destined to carry the burden of forever; Kat hated this house, they hated this room, but they could never quite bring themself to hate the boy that lay still asleep in it.

Fuck.

They had to go before Pete woke up, because every conversation from now on would be one they screamed and pleaded to avoid, because Pete, unlike Kat, had the guts to face up to consequence, and what had happened last night, whereas the taller of the two, could only managed a note scrawled on a scrap of paper, before making their way out of Pete's bedroom window, and scraping their knee on the brickwork as they did so.

They reckoned they deserved it though, because they couldn't keep living like a drifter, like a runaway: constantly running from consequence and responsibility, and more importantly, the people they loved, and the people that loved them, but they would.

And even from that moment, Friday was just about finding another bed to stay the night in, another innocent kid to listen to their sorrows, someone else to forget about come the following morning; Kat was all kinds of cruel, and they were well aware, and perhaps even more cruel in their complacency.

Because they saw no point in self improvement, and a change in morality; they only saw tonight and tomorrow morning, and life made into a game, and a future they couldn't quite picture in their mind, but despite this all, a brother they had to see, and an empty beach, and a house they'd rather die than wander into.

The beach and the ocean had been Kat's last resort, because Gerard was certainly a frequent visitor, even in the early hours of the morning, but it seemed like fate just wasn't on Kat's side today, and they couldn't just brush it off, because despite it all, they needed to see Gerard, to apologise, because Gerard Way was perhaps the one goddamn person on this earth that deserved kindness.

Kat was biased, of course, biased and scared, and soon to make their way out of the street their parents' house was situated upon, and as they found themself a park bench a few blocks away, and a shop both open at this hour, and with a cashier too sleep deprived to realise they were selling cigarettes to a sixteen year old.