Is this where you want to be? (frerard)

In which we learn that Gerard can find humour in anything, even a bag of coke

Gerard Way's life consisted of nothing that he could really remember. Like sure, he wasn't clueless about his existence or anything, but he more couldn't remember as in the 'I took a fuck tonne of drugs last night, not really sure what, but this afternoon I woke up naked in front of something I don't remember painting' kind of way.

It could be fun, sometimes. Though some days he woke up next to strangers, and really, he wasn't sure his parents would be so proud.

Gerard didn't really care what his parents thought, in fact, he had a love for pissing them off since he'd bought his first Black Flag album off some kid that hung outside his local church.

And since then, something had clicked in the once shy, introverted boys mind and Gerard had since that day devoted his teenage years to using every opportunity possible to annoy his parents until they couldn't stand having him around themselves. Hell, he even spent his 'school supplies money' on a shitty guitar that he didn't even know how to tune and though he failed miserably, having been kicked out of a band he and a few kids from his music class had started because he couldn't play sweet home Alabama on guitar, it was fun while it lasted.

Gerard found himself chuckling at how all of that (that his parents deemed rebellion), lead to him being kicked out, at the very last.

He remembered that day so clearly. Everyone had been waiting for it to happen - Gerard, Gerard's friends, Mikey. It was the day he had brung home his boyfriend at the time - Bert Mccrackin - and hadn't expected his parents to get home so early.

Let's just say they walked into a scene they would not forget - involving a fair amount of weed and inappropriate behaviour between Gerard and the elder boy in that living room. That was the last of Gerard that his family had seen of him, and he intended to keep it way. He assumed his parents felt the same way.

Maybe it wasn't always Gerard's fault.

Gerard had always excelled at his school work in his youth, giving his parents some sort of unrealistic expectation of him. "Gerard, one day you're going to go to college and get a good paying job- preferably a lawyer, son, and a beautiful wife. You don't have time for art, or music. Go for the job with the money, not your dreams, that's not what you want."

Gerard wished that they could see the bag of coke sitting on his nightstand right now.

Because, wow, that would have been a good laugh indeed. And maybe Gerard needed a laugh right now. Because, well, the guy was falling apart slowly, but surely.

But he couldn't focus on that right now, no.

His thoughts were far too preoccupied with the empty cigarette packet sitting on his nightstand- right next to that bag of coke, actually.

And really, fuck, because Pete was out of town, and he was the only guy Gerard could bum a cigarette from without having to return any favours, mainly because Pete was a fucking dumbass, but Pete was also an okay guy and Gerard usually bought his pot from him, so Pete wasn't hated by Gerard or anything.

Pete was the kind of guy you could buy drugs from, but also have a friendly chat with whilst you were doing it. Pete had those friendly vibes with him that Gerard never seemed to have.

Gerard had more unless you're a coffee that I can sip on, don't fucking approach me, you cunt bag kind of vibes going on.

But now he'd have to actually walk to the store to buy a packet and he'd have to pass the skate park where underage kids would probably ask him to buy theirs too, but then again, he could make money off that, so it wasn't too bad after all, yeah.