S T U P I D ; joshler

frnkiero andthe impromtutherapy

Josh was sitting, arms crossed over his knees with his head propped on it. The lighting of Gerard's tiny basement bedroom left little to be seen, casting odd shadows at every edge of the room. Gerard himself was sitting on the floor across from Josh, back leaning against his bunk bed. Frank was on the top bunk, blaring music.

His own music.

"You know how to use garage band and make it sound decent, I'll give you that," Gerard sighed, blowing a bit of smoke through his lips. Josh grimaced, wondering what tasting suicide could be like.

"I didn't use garage bad!" Frank squealed, face flushing as he glared down at the other boy.

"You totally did," Gerard smirked, before turning to Josh. "Didn't he?"

"Huh? Oh! Oh, yeah, totally," he said, forcing a tight lipped smile.

Gerard and Frank shared a look, totally not buying a goddamned thing leaving the other's mouth.

"You and Tyler fought, eh?" Frank sighed, sliding down the ladder to the floor, sitting beside Gerard and leaning against him in a discreet "no homo" sorta way.

"W-We didn't exactly fight," Josh mumbled, laying his head back down.

"Then what's got you all sad-puppy?" Gerard questioned.

Josh contemplated telling them, he really did.

But he also contemplated jumping out the fucking window, so...

"Yeah, it is Tyler," he finally admit, groaning as he rubbed at his face. It felt terrible yet relieving to have that out in the open.

And, of course, a song perfectly fitting Josh's mood began filtering through Frank's speakers— he just whined a bit and buried his face in his arms.

"I told him I have feelings for him."

"And?" Frank prodded, raising an eyebrow. There was something odd about talking to him and listening to him sing in the background at the same time.

"He ran."

"Oh shit," Gerard coughed, choking on the water he'd been drinking. "Oh, shit, Josh– that's terrible!"

"You're telling me," he sighed, looking up pitifully. "I think he hates me now."

"That's not true! Tyler is, like, a little puppy or something. No way he hates you!" Frank cried, smacking Gerard's arm. "Tell him he doesn't hate him!"

"Why do I need to...?"

"Tell him," Frank hissed, smacking Gerard's chest with the back of his hand.

"Ow, fuck y— ow! He doesn't hate you!" Gerard cried, swatting away Frank's hand. The latter of the two stopped finally, turning and smiling.

"See, we both agree. He doesn't hate you," he grinned.

Josh almost smiled at the whole ordeal, watching Gerard rub his arm and chest with a small pout. He even stuck his tongue out at the side of Frank's head, huffing and sending Josh a sympathetic look.

"I think he was probably just scared," Gerard said, hands clasping in front of him finally. "It's a bit overwhelming to have that information suddenly thrust at you; some people can respond immediately, some take their time— hell, some people never respond."

Josh didn't think he could handle that.

"I guess so," he muttered, peeking up at the two boys. "It just... Hurt, y'know? Because even if he doesn't feel that way, he's still my best friend. I can't loose my best friend."

"You won't loose him," Frank assured, raising his hand to smack at Gerard again.

"You won't," Gerard grit out, shoving Frank from his side and holding him away from him with his arm. "I promise, and if you do you can blame Frankie."

"No you can't!" the other boy protested, clinging to Gerard's arm to regain his balance.

"I won't blame anybody but myself," Josh said, and that was the honest and ugly truth; Josh would always blame himself for telling Tyler. If he had kept his mouth shut, he and Tyler would probably be together.

"Don't," Gerard frowned, "don't blame yourself over something like this."

"It's my fault, though," he insisted.

"You just admitted your feelings," Frank said, nails digging into Gerard's forearm, "that's hardly grounds for blame."

Josh entertained the thought of them being right. Perhaps Gerard and Frank were right; maybe this wasn't his fault. Even so, even with all this logic staring him in the face, he couldn't stop the guilt eating at him. He felt like he'd betrayed Tyler somehow, simply by falling for him— but it had been clear from the day they'd met that Josh cared for him a bit too much in a totally gay sense.

Everyone said that getting things off your chest felt great, and Josh admits that it usually does— but not today. Not now. Not like this. Not after a day long silence and a lifetime's worth of self loathing.

Which Josh wasn't, on the whole, the type of person to hate himself. He really wasn't. Usually he was rather content with his life and the state of things. He didn't criticize himself too harshly, he wasn't anxious or uneasy that often, but now— he felt like a completely different person.

He wondered how someone could live with this feeling constantly.

Josh wasn't depressed, but he knew this was just a taste of it, and that terrified him. This looming sense of dread and just overall uneasiness and restlessness; he wondered how the fuck you could ever appear content or happy in such a state.

People dealt with this daily and Josh had only felt that way once and he was already about to crumble. It made him feel week, but also made him feel some sort of admiration for people with mental illnesses. It had to be terrible to constantly feel like this.

Heartbreak; is that what it was?

"Should I apologize?" Josh asked quietly, eyes scanning his companion's faces. Gerard's contorted into one of incredulity.

"Uh, no?" he scoffed, pulling his arm away from the other boy to fold them over his chest. Frank fell onto his back with a thud.

"Yeah, no, do not apologize for telling the truth— especially a harmless truth."

But was it a harmless truth?