American Beauty ✧ Frerard

You Ever Think That He's Just A Drama Queen?

Gerard woke up, unsure about where he was at first, and then remembered; he was sleeping on Peterick's- yes, he actually called them Peterick, cause it saves time and breath- couch.

He sighed as he remembered the argument he and Frank had the day before, and he buried his face in the pillow he was provided. He began to doubt himself for what wasn't the second time in the night and few hours he'd been on this sofa that was more comfortable than it looked.

He wondered briefly if leaving the house was rational, and upon deciding that it was an over reaction, wondered if he should go back.

Hell no. He thought. Then Frank is going to give you hell for leaving in the first place.

Frank isn't like that. He argued with himself. You and I both know that.

"All three of us know it." Gerard said. "But we can't go back because Frank will see us as over dramatic, and he's not gonna want to put up with it because he thinks we'll run away everytime something gets bad."

Gerard sat in silence for a moment.

"Why the fuck am I talking to myself?" The beauty guru groaned, rolling over onto his back, and pulling the pillow over his face.

Poor Pete and Patrick were in the kitchen, gathering stuff to prepare breakfast, and we're scared of Gerard's partially aloud soliloquy; this was no Shakespeare setting, and Pete and Patrick were no mind readers, so they honestly had no idea what the fuck Gerard was on about.

If you were to ask my opinion, I'd say our favorite makeup artist needs to go home before he hurts himself.

"Um, Gerard..." Patrick spoke up, still a little frightened. Gerard sat up, hoping and praying to whatever life force that was making sure his sorry ass wasn't dead yet that Stump and company hadn't heard his half assed internal battle.

"Yeah?" The lemon asked, biting his lower lip.

"Are you hungry?"

Gerard knew he was hungry; his stomach was hollow, and he hadn't eaten before he left the house. He hadn't eaten at the house either.

"No." The lie left his lips effortlessly, and Patrick seemed to buy it.

"I think you should get a little food in your stomach though, especially if you're planning on going to Mikey's soon." Patrick said, a little less weirded out but still a bit awkward about the situation.

"Its fine, Pattie." Gerard giggled. "I'll get something on the road later."

"Um..." poor Mr. Stump was confused at the new nickname and the sudden cheerfulness of the man who'd arrived on the doorstep of his and his lover's home crying just yesterday.

"Just go." Gerard groaned, putting his face back in the pillow in agony.

Patrick didn't need to be told twice; Gerard was really beginning to scare him.

Gerard probably laid there for about five minutes, before going to retrieve his suitcase.

Pete and Patrick were cooking, and the food's scent was really enticing, but Gerard shook his head. He was just going to upload his video and be done with it.

He pulled his laptop out, and was automatically connected to his mobile hotspot. Gerard sat cross legged on the floor, going to his YouTube channel and uploaded the video privately, so no one would be able to see it before he was done editing.

Once the video was ready, Gerard looked at how long his video was. It was about 30 minutes long, which was unusual; he usually only took 10 minutes for a full face makeup, and 15 if he talked through it.