Hey look, ANOTHER FRERARD! Ugh, fuck my mind and its late-night ideas. Came up with this one a few nights ago, hope you guys enjoy it.
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Gerard Way sat in his room on his bed, staring at his walls. The soft grey was calming.
Gerard still had three hours before he was supposed to wake up, and this was the only thing he could do without waking up the rest of his family. He loved being in the loft room, but the disadvantage was the bright studio lights that he couldn't turn on in the middle of the night if he needed to do something. He mainly relied on the moonlight coming through his large stained-glass windows to help him then.
Gerard stood up. He had an idea. He walked quietly to his easel and paints and set them by his window with the window-seat and climbed onto the large cushion, thinking for a minute. Then he knew what he would do.
Gerard picked up a pencil and started sketching out the shape of a face, neck, and shoulders, adding small details. Once his sketch was finished, he picked up his brush and dipped it in the palest flesh-colored paint he had, and began filling in the outline, spreading the paint around the canvas as he worked. Gerard finished with the skin and began shading in the shadows just slightly darker under the chin and around the jawline, working carefully. If he messed this up, he'd have to trash the whole project.
Gerard finished shading and re-outlined the shape of the eyes, then began painting them in. First the whites, then the small bit of pink in the corners of everyone's eyes, then the irises. Soft hazel, much like his own. He took his thinnest brush and began adding the lashes carefully, this was another thing he couldn't mess up. Gerard began adding the eyebrows, starting thick and then thinning out considerably. Gerard looked at the eyes. They looked... Scared, almost. Gerard got a new idea. Instead of making a slight smile like he originally planned, Gerard sketched out a frown, open slightly as though the boy was crying.
Gerard painted in the boy's lips, almost as pale as his face. He painted what little was seen of the teeth, then took a clear coat and painted over the eyes so they looked wet, adding smudgy-looking charcoal-black under them. He smiled. This project was coming nicely along. Gerard decided to start on the boy's hair, drawing it back in and painting it black. Gerard looked at his painting. The boy's hair was styled in a mohawk, and the sides were red. Funny. Gerard began adding small strokes to the hair to make it seem almost real, and before he knew it, he was halfway done when his alarm went off.
Gerard sighed and stood up. Time to get ready for what was called 'hell,' but was masquerading as 'school.' Gerard looked backwards at the easel.
"I'll finish you later, I promise," he whispered to the painting.
Gerard walked to his closet, looking for something to wear. He was almost girly when it came to deciding an outfit for the day. He finally decided on a plain black flannel shirt, buttoning it and rolling the sleeves up. Gerard pulled on his black jeans and red and black checker-pattern studded belt, his thoughts traveling back to his painting. Gerard shook his head. You have better things to worry about, he chided himself, besides; you have to get through the school day first.
Gerard finished lacing his converse up and looked out the window, and saw the bus stop about two blocks away.
"Shit," he muttered, grabbing his messenger bag and running quietly down the stairs and out of his apartment.
He ran down the stairs, to the front lobby and out the doors, coming to a stop at the sidewalk right before the bus stopped. Gerard pulled his black hair out of his face and climbed onto the bus, nodding at the bus driver, who gave him a friendly smile.
Gerard began walking to his seat in the very back of the bus, when someone stuck their foot out and tripped him about halfway back. He hissed as his forearm scraped the rubber in the aisle way, and pushed himself back up. Gerard clenched his jaw as kids laughed at him, and began walking back again.
"Fag," one kid spat. Gerard rolled his eyes. He was gay, so what? He was still human.
"Hey now, don't laugh. Whoever tripped Gerard, come up to the front behind me. I'm gonna keep a good eye on you, Craig," the bus driver, Irma said as Craig walked to the front, obviously angry.
"Yes, Miss Irma," he said sarcastically. Irma scowled.
"You wanna walk to school? No? I suggest you straighten up then," Irma threatened.
Craig slumped in the front seat, and Gerard smiled at Irma graciously. Irma returned the gesture and waited for Gerard to sit down before pulling away from the apartments complex. Gerard stared up at the top floor, the penthouse where he lived. It had the best view in the part of the city where he lived. Gerard laughed a little and put his earphones in, relaxing as Green Day began pumping into his head.
The bus stopped again soon, and Gerard sat up straighter and pulled out his earphones. Funny, no one was supposed to get on for another block. A boy climbed onto the bus, a frightened look clouding his hazel eyes. He looked oddly familiar. The boy walked quietly to the back, and like what had happened to Gerard, someone stuck their foot out and tripped the boy. But Gerard leaned forward and caught the boy before he could hit the aisle. The boy placed his shaking hands on Gerard's forearms, and looked up at Gerard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Gerard raised his eyebrows slightly in question, and the boy nodded once, indicating he was okay.
Gerard helped the boy pick his things up off the floor as Irma drove, and finished putting the boy's last notebook in his bag. Gerard gestured for the boy to sit with him, and he nodded again.
"What's your name?" Gerard asked, "I'm Gerard Way."
"Frank Iero," Frank said quietly. Gerard nodded.
"That's a nice name. It suits you, I think," Gerard said, matching Frank's voice volume.
"Thanks. I like yours too," he said. Gerard smiled a bit.
He liked Frank. In the friendly way, definitely, but in the 'I like you' way as well. But he was probably another straight guy who would make fun of Gerard for being homosexual once he found out. Yet Gerard wanted to erase the terror in Frank's eyes with a barely controlled passion. Frank reached down to pick his bag up off the floor as the bus pulled into the lot at school, and the sleeve of his red and black-striped shirt pulled up a bit. Gerard gasped. On Frank's wrist were scars, about ten if Gerard had counted correctly. He was almost certain there were scars on other parts of Frank as well.
Frank noticed Gerard staring at his wrist- something like pain in his eyes- and teared up, and jerked his sleeve back down. Gerard grabbed Frank's wrist, pushing the sleeve back up. Frank's eyes shone with tears as Gerard ran his fingers over his scars. Gerard looked back up at Frank's face from his wrist and his eyes widened a bit. Gerard knew where he recognized Frank from.
Frank was the boy he was painting.
