Mr. Brightside ♕ Frerard

chapter eleven

a / n

this is just a TW because there will be some verbally abusive tones in this chapter, and a reminder that neither Donna or Donald should be compared to the version of them in this story.

enjoy!

- -

"Did you clean the living room?"

"Yes."

"Did you remember to set the table how mom likes it?"

"Yeah," Gerard sighed, and just as he said that he heard the doorbell.

"Fuck..." Gerard muttered quietly to himself, really dreading this dinner.

He had never connected with his parents, they had always distanced themselves from him because he was incredibly shy and didn't speak unless spoken to. And his parents just didn't agree with that logic.

They belittled him, made him unbelievably ashamed of himself and everything he did. They were undeniably the reason why Gerard was repulsed by himself, but it was not like it mattered. Because they were his parents, and they were the adults and adults always knew best.

"Good evening, Michael." Donald greeted when the door was opened a considerable amount.

Mikey simply nodded but you could make out the discomfort on his usually emotionless face.

"Hello, dear." Their mother greeted too, both parents completely ignoring Gerard's presence, making him frown, softly.

This is going to be a long night.

- -

"So, Gerard," Donna said his name with such venom, "how have you been?"

Gerard's head lifted ever so slightly, but not enough to make eye contact, "I-I've been good."

A lie.

"Look at me when you're speaking!" His mother snapped, causing him to flinch and lift his head up immediately.

He fought off the tears that were brimming his sad eyes. He mustn't cry over this.

"Have you gotten a proper job yet?" Donald asked, chewing the salad Gerard had prepared.

"No." Gerard mumbled, moving around the meat on his plate, not having much of an appetite.

"Well, then." His mother stared daggers at Gerard, while the boy merely looked down again. Trying to gulp down his nerves.

"I sell my paintings though-"

"You mean those talentless doodles?" His mother snorted.

Gerard found himself nodding sadly at his mother's taunting question.

Mikey just stayed silent, learning after years of trying to stand up for Gerard that it doesn't help. It just makes the attacks worse.

His mother hummed, taking another forkful salad in her lipstick covered mouth.

Gerard tried to subtly wipe his runny nose that was accompanied by tiny tears, but of course his mother had to notice. She always did.

"Are.. Are you fucking crying?" His mother snorted, making a face of disbelief.

Gerard stayed quiet sniffling quietly to himself, he knew he was a coward and just an overall baby, he just wished his mother wouldn't constantly bring it up.

"Oh my god..."  sighed rolling his eyes. His face showing nothing but anger and disappointment.

And almost out of nowhere a loud slam erupt throughout the room, and Gerard's head snapped up again as he felt his heart jump in his throat.

Donald's hand laid promptly on the wooden table as his eyes burned into Gerard's scared ones.

"Grow up!" He screamed at the poor boy. Gerard let a small sob escape his lips but he quickly covered it up with his sleeve.

Mikey watched shamefully, felling his throat close up in remorse and fear.

"P-please stop yelling." Gerard whimpered quietly, just wanting it all to end, the excessive yelling and blaming and just everything.

"You're such a girl." Donald mumbled taking a sip of his wine.

"You.." Gerard took a deep breath, preparing for the worst, "you're in m-my house, you can't talk to me like that anymore."

And if Donald hadn't looked pissed off before, he definitely did now.

"I'll speak to you in any way I want to, kid." Donald growled lowly.

Gerard had lost his little confidence burst quicker than he gained it and just nodded painfully at his father's words. More tears slid down his face as he put his head down again.

Why couldn't he be something his parents actually loved?

Gerard stayed silent for the rest of the evening, not responding to the verbal attacks fired his way.

And as minutes turned into hours, he felt himself crumble down into nothing, something he was just too familiar with.