The Crazy Ones || Frerard

Two - Medication

Gerard

Well, we got roommates. That is, if we were mentally sound enough to. The kid that I was stuck with had paranoid schizophrenia and I get he can't really help it but, holy shit he was scary.

At times he was calm and a pretty neat guy, he'd talk to me about comic books and art, which were two of my top favorite things. Others, he would be in a corner, hugging his knees and murmuring in some creepy made-up language, you know, like the ones in horror movies.

I don't hate him or anything, I just really would rather not room with him.

You know, the kid jerking it and the kid staring into my soul seemed like less dangerous options in my opinion.

But that's whatever I guess.

Frank was really cool, he was a lot like myself. He just wanted to get better and stop hating himself so much.

Though, I really don't get how he could hate himself, he is violently attractive, he's fun and small and just a lot of things that I wish I was.

I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling at the moment. My roommate, Jace, off with some doctors for an evaluation. There's a hurried tap on my door and it's thrown open before I even get a chance to say 'come in'.

"I hate my roommate! I hate him so much!" Frank starts to shout, he's fuming with anger.

"Whoa." I sit, "Deep breaths, Frank. It'll be alright." I stare with wide-eyes by his outburst.

"Gerard, I'm gonna kill the little fucker!" He growls lowly.

"Dude we've been here for like a day." I squint at him, "How could you already hate him?"

"That little motherfucker is touching my shit and breaking things and yelling and-... And... Agh!" He throws himself onto my bed, "Stupid psycho." Frank grumbles, the red anger in his face draining after a moment or so.

"You okay, little dude?" I push hair out of his face.

"Shut up, chicken leg." He grumbles about his height.

"Chicken leg?" I crush my brows together.

He squeezes my thigh, "Yeah, see." He says, "Skinny like a chicken leg."

I punch him in the shoulder and he laughs, "But I mean, at least I can fix the problem of having chicken legs, you can't do shit about being like half an inch tall." I retort and his grin turns to a scowl.

"Shut up you nit." He mutters, defeatedly.

"What? Are you British now?" I tease.

"Yes, I am." He mocks an accent that is nowhere near British.

I roll my eyes with a grin, "You idiot." I give him a nudge and he smiles at me.

"I know." He looks at me with big hazel eyes. Well, if they even could be considered that. It was more like a (very beautiful) form of heterochromia. He had a central version, which was gorgeous, there was this golden/honey brown that wrapped around the iris of his eyes and bled into a murky green color, gorgeous nonetheless, and then there was a deep brown-like, green-ish blue ring around the outer edge that made the rest of the colors burst, exploding to life.

I am brought back from my staring when he waves his hand in front of my face, "Hello, earth to the alien boy?" He drones and I seem to snap back into the real world.

"Shit, sorry." I shake my head and rub the back of my neck.

"You were staring." He points out.