You know what they do to guys like us in prison (Gerard P.O.V)

33 2 4

by -rootcanal

by -rootcanal

Frank: hey bby ;)

Frank: gerard

Frank: dont ignore me

Frank: whatever you whore

Frank: I CAN SEE YOU READ THESE

Gerard is typing...

Gerard: whatever you fuckboy

I held down the power button, watching the life slowly leech out of my phone. What right did he have to call me a whore? If anything I should be calling him a whore. A slut-bag whore who messes with peoples emotions.

God I can't believe him. Hot tears streamed down my face. Frank Iero is an asshole. Probably the most assholey asshole in existence. And I fucked him. I had enjoyed fucking him. Oh god, why am I so naive? I should have known. I should have fucking known.

"Hey, do you want some Oreo's 'cos Pete is- are you crying?!" I felt a warm hand on my back rubbing in soothing circles, the way Grandma used to do when I was upset.

But I couldn't let Mikey see me cry. I was the older brother, the mature one. The one who made everything better. "Of course not Mikes. I'm just..." I tried to smile at him and it collapsed into a watery grave. More tears flooded out and my shoulders shook. Goddammit Gerard! Pull yourself together! "Sorry sorry, I'm just thinking about Frank and-" He held up a finger, and pulled out his own phone. I wanted to sob again. Of course his social life came before me. Why shouldn't it?

There were a few loud thumps and then a smiling Pete pushed open the slightly ajar door. Great, another witness to the downfall of Gerard Arthur Way. He smiled brightly, then cleared his throat. "So why am I going to need to bring a body-bag to the concert?"