On your knees // Bandom

5. Hate to see your heart break

Dallon and Brendon had got to the music room first and Brendon was dreading the conversation."
"Hey," Dallon smiled plasticly.
"Hey."
"Can I ask why you've point blank ignored me for two days?"
"I haven't been ignoring you."
Dallon raised an eyebrow
"Okay, fine, I fucked up."
"Fucked up how?"
"By suggesting an open relationship."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"So, that issue's been resolved........?"
"Its a work in progress."
"I guess old habits die hard, though" Dallon tried to joke but it backfired as Brendon sighed.
"Im sorry, Dall."
"Sorry for what?"
"I never fell for you, and I know you liked me, and I know I fucking used you but I never actually fell for you and im so sorry. Im sorry I've made everything ten times worse. I always make things ten times worse."
"You don't m-"

They were interrupted as Gerard and Frank burst into the room, arguing over god knows what, each heatedly gesticulating and trying to stay annoyed.

They both knew better than to get involved, but Dallon still stayed quiet. It was only a rejection, barely a breakup. They had not much and now had even less and he really shouldn't be feeling like the world was crumbling beneath his fingers.
"I've just remembered - I have homework"
He left the room as fast as he could, Gerard and Frank didn't notice and Brendon just watched him go, like he knew how pathetically fake the excuse was but also understood how breakable he was and how much this had hurt him. Because Brendon understood things, and was always there for him, and always would be but now without the soft comforting kisses and hot sex that, if not made him happy, made him forget why he was sad.

Brendon just watched him go, feeling like he'd broken something and the pieces would forever remain embedded in him as a reminder of all the destruction he caused, how careless he was. He had been given a heart and he had not held it, simply used it until he had a better one and dropped it. Left it on the dirtied ground.

Dallon passed Ryan as he left, and the two made eye contact for a second, and Ryan saw Dallons face and understood everything, and Dallon hated him for it. Ryan almost blamed himself for the tears threatening to fall, but realistically it was a combination of his and Brendons various faults, their combined naivety and selfishness and cowardice. Brendons disbelief that anyone ever really loved him and Ryans facade of apathy that hurt more than helped.

Leaving school had not been Dallons intention but he was trying not to cry, he wasn't allowed to cry, and he somehow found himself wondering down the street with no plans to return. He just wanted to be home, to put on a record and curl up until he couldn't feel his heart breaking, just the bass line of a song mirroring his feelings. He didn't want to go to French, or History, Ryan was in both. He would probably notice his absence, and maybe, if he was feeling generous, claim he was ill or some other bullshit excuse. He'd probably get a detention tomorrow anyway.
He was on his street now, a half an hour walk passed in minutes.

"You're not crying, are you Dallon?"
Fuck. He'd forgotten his father was home today and he swallowed nervously.
"N....no."
"Good. I knew you were a sissy, but not that much."
"No, dad."
"Why aren't you in school, eh?"
"Threw up."
"Fucking school lunches. Make your own tomorrow, Dallon."
"I might still feel ill tomorrow. Can I stay home?"
"Naw. Your mothers got enough on her plate without you being ill. Pretend you were fine today and go to school tomorrow."
"Okay dad." He knew better than to argue. He could just leave the house and.......... his train of thought trailed off. Or more like crashed and burned, realising the only people who would skip school to make sure he was okay were the people he was avoiding.
Fuck his life.

~

"In a fortnight we will see Morrissey with our very own eyes" Gerard sighed happily as he sat down next to Frank.
"Or so we hope, don't jinx us, Art boy."
"Y'know, Art Boy has to be the gayest nickname ever."
"Why'd you think I chose it?"
"Because I draw you a weird amount?"
"And yet I've only seen one drawing."
"We're going to keep it that way."
"What are you so afraid of?"
'Rolling his eyes, Gerard changed the subject instead of answering "You free tonight?"
"I...... yeah, but I gotta walk Daisy."
"Daisy?"
"My dog?"
"You have a dog?"
"Uhhhh, yeah."
"Why did I not know this?"
"How did you not guess?"
"I don't know, I haven't seen her."
"She lives with my dad."
"Im so confused."
"Don't be, but you can walk with me if you like?"
"Yeah, thanks."
"Are you wanting to be out of your house for a reason or just the general homophobia."
"I just want to see you?"
"Bullshit."
"Fair enough, anniversary of my Grandmas death."
"Shit, I'm sorry."
"Its okay, theres a wood next to the cemetery by the way, if you want to walk there....."
"Sounds good." Frank grinned at him and Gerard could literally write essays about how perfect he was.

Frank was waiting for him after school, headphones in and looking like the emo shit he was, but still pretty, Gerard really needed to stop thinking about how pretty he was.
"Hey, halloween boy."
"Ohmygod it's four days until my birthday month."
"Its 35 days."
"Its CLOSE."
Gerard rolled his eyes and started walking out of school, Frank didn't live far and he knew the route off by heart from the amount of times he had just needed to escape. He used to go to the graveyard, sit amongst the dead and draw pretty things that were far to innocent to be created in such a morbid fashion. Now he went to Franks and got coffee and played Mario Cart and smiled like he had something to live for. He kind of did.

They walked home bickering, with the occasional 'we-both-want-to-kiss-but-I'm-waiting-and-you-won't-initiate' moment.
Gerard tuned in at Franks but Frank grabbed his hand. "My dads, remember?"
Neither were inclined to let go.

Daisy was a Dalmatian, not a purebred, but a black and white Cruella De Vil fantasy nonetheless. She pounced on Gerard and pushed him onto the floor as soon as they arrived, Gerard tried really hard to not think about Frank pinning to the floor.

Frank Iero Senior was a vaguely intimidating, as both a father figure and just in general. Frank had mentioned he was a drummer and he must be why little catholic boy Frank was allowed tattoo's and piercings. He was also very judgmental of Gerard. His own father was strict but st least he didn't have to call him sir.
"You Gerard?"
"Yes."
"Frank says you draw."
"I do." He glanced nervously at Frank, who made an apologetic face.
"Got any practical talents?"
"Uhhh-"
Frank interrupted him. "We're going to take Daisy out."
"Where are you planning on taking her?"
"Cemetery road?"
"Fine. See you later, Son."
"Yes, Sir."

Frank was quiet as they walked, waiting for Gerard to talk, to initiate the conversation.
Eventually, he did.

"She knew I was gay."
"Huh?"
"Helana, my Grandma, when she was in hospital I told her. I didn't want to regret the fact that I hadn't."
"How'd she take it?"
"She wasn't surprised. She said I was a theatre kid and she kind of expected it."
"You were a theatre kid?"
"Yeah, I used to act with the older kids but they all left and I joined my little brothers friendship group."
"Damn."
"Yeah, funny thing is, at least three of my old friends became drummers, like, Bob already drummed, but Spencer did light tech and Andy was a fantastic actor."
"Weird coincidence. Do you miss your old friends?"
"Yeah. Do you?"
"I only had Jamia, and we still talk."
"I haven't spoken to any of them in months, Spence texts occasionally but Joe and Bert never liked me and the others have probably forgotten I ever existed."
"You're many things, art boy, but you are not forgettable."
Gerard smiled. They were amongst the graves now, and he was easily picking his way through them, like he'd memorised the graveyard at far too young an age.

Helenas grave was white marble, new enough to not be improved by moss. There were a number of crumbled papers around the bottom, artists sketches left their as a sort of sacrifice. Gerard pulled his sketchbook out of his bag and added a new drawing to the pile.

"This is why I can't see them?"
"Yeah, I, I need her too see them, and I can't exactly take them back from a grave."
"Can I see them if I'm at the grave?"
"No, not because of her, just my own insecurities."
"You're an amazing artist, Gerard."
"Nah,"
"Yeah." Frank looked up and made eye contact. Neither of them moved so he put his hand to Gerards face, but Gerard looked away. "Not today, Frank, not today."
He watched as Frank crumpled under rejection, but he couldn't kiss a boy at his Grandma's grave, on the anniversary of his death.
He couldn't allow himself to be distracted like that.

I no longer have writers block this is fun. Also do you like my new header?
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