We're All Outcasts (Gerard Way/ MCR Fanfiction)

The Best Damn Dress I Own

Between coming home and leaving again, I lounged on my bed, listening to Green Day. I tried to eat some dinner (spag bol), but I was excited so I couldn't eat more than a few forkfuls.

I couldn't wait any longer and I hated just sitting down and doing nothing, so I left for school a little early. I got there at 6.30, half an hour before we were supposed to be there. The set was all sorted, so I just listened to music in the corner.

Backstage was quite well organised - the doors in the wings lead to a large room with boys and girls toilets (changing rooms) coming off it. The main room was for everyone and their stuff. A few of the backstage crew and I put some signs up (the usual -  please be quiet, do not block the exits, etc). A few minutes later, other people began to filter in and chose areas to dump their bags. I just plonked mine in a corner with an electric socket nearby so I could go on my phone in the interval.

There was a large rail with everyone's outfits on; I found mine and went and got changed. Thankfully, there were no other girls in the changing room yet so I didn't have to be too self-conscious as I slipped my costume on. Ugh. I stared at my reflection for a minute or two in distaste, then bundled up my clothes and went back into the main room.

Mikey was waiting for me, standing oddly on his crutches.

"Shut up. I hate it." I said, before he had a chance to speak.

"I was going to say hi." he replied.

"Hi!" I exclaimed. "Seriously, though. I didn't choose it." I plucked at the skirt of my dress, grimacing.

"You look nice! It might not be your style, but it suits you." he argued.

I turned a slight shade of pink.

"Hmmm... I'll take that compliment with a pinch of salt. If we'd done the original instead of this shitty modern version, it'd all be fine. But no. Juliet loves dressing up for a big family party in the best damn dress she owns that swishes around her knees, but I hate it. Look at all the bruises on my legs! I got them rugby- tackling Frank the other day when he had my phone. Do I look like I suit this god- awful dress? It's FUCKING PINK!!"

"Don't worry. I heard some of the girls talking about altering their dresses."

"Altering how?"

"Making them shorter."

We both pulled a disgusted face.

"How do you feel, knowing that almost every girl in the school fancies the shit out of your brother?"

"The short answer is unclean. The long answer is 'Oh my god, that is horrid.' The stuff you hear them saying just makes me want to curl up in a hole and die. I mean, you know they've been talking about him and fantasising about him and it's just not something you ever want to imagine. The other day I walked past Eliza and co, and one of them said:

'Gerard is so sexy. If I could, I'd go up to him and snog his face off.'

And then another one said:

'Do you reckon his kisses are rough and dirty or smooth and passionate?"

Then they all started whispering but I was too grossed-out to stay and listen to them."

I recoiled and bulged my eyes.

"Ah, man, I don't even want to think about it!" I complained.

"That was pretty much my face for the rest of the day." he agreed.

"Does Gerard know he's a magnet for female attention?" I asked.

"Yeah. He hates it. I'm not sure I should be telling you this, but he's always complaining about Eliza and the others at home. He can't teach when she flirts with him. He would take great delight in giving her paper cuts all over and then putting her in a bath full of salt. I've been warned - if I ever bring a girl like that home he's said he'll take my face off with chopsticks and stick it back on with a glue gun."