Famous Last Words || FRERARD

27

Mikey had betrayed Gerard. He'd violated his trust and ruined fucking everything. Gerard replayed the scene over and over in his head, rewinding in fast like a VHS player, playing and resetting to the beat of a drum. His heart beat to the same as he took each step. He had a whole night to kill- No pun intended.

Okay, maybe pun intended.

He'd left his house around eight p.m. or so, and he honestly didn't know what to do with himself. He did have a gun, a few bullets and an extra box of ammo. Maybe he'd just shoot himself. That could work. But then, that would be what everyone wants. What the world wants. Fuck that. He was done doing what the world wants.

So what could he do? Get food? Shoot some cats? Plan a murder? The last option sure sounded appealing. And not too unrealistic too.

Because no matter what, Gerard was probably already going to jail for manslaughter.

So why not have a little more fun on the way?

Who would he actually want to murder? It would have to be someone who deserves it- Someone like a bully or a basic bitch. He knew plenty of those, conveniently enough. The kids who threw the sandwich at Frank, who threw the soda can at him. He knew their faces and he knew exactly where to find them. Well, where to find everyone who deserved to die, really- Everyone he immediately knew that deserved to die: School, of course!

Blegh. How stereotypical.

Just the thought of becoming one of those common school shooters seemed a little too...underwhelming to Gerard. He had to make this special. He had to make this big! Go out with a band, right?

It hadn't occurred to Gerard that he had snapped. He'd been waiting for it for so long, worrying about when he would finally break, when his mind would give out- Fuck, he'd been so worried about it, he'd missed it actually happening. His mental state had absolutely shattered. If you asked him a few months ago what he'd been planning for the weekend, he never would've answered murder. Maybe as a joke, but never serious like he was now. He'd become the frozen rubber band, cracked. He'd become the graham cracker, crumbled. He'd become the fish, perpetually drowning in air. And none of these metaphors will actually make much sense, but they made perfect sense to him, because right now, he was planning a school shooting. Right now, he was dreaming of ruling the world, Frank by his side as they brought society to its knees.

XOXOXO

When Frank walked into school that morning, he didn't suspect a thing. Well, he did, but his suspicions weren't correct. He thought Gerard was high off his ass, to be terribly honest. He was smiling before he even saw Frank, which was the first sign something was off.

"Hi, babe!" He greeted, pressing his lips to Frank's and giggling. Frank's eyes widened a bit as he looked Gerard up and down, day-old clothes askew, soda-stained trench coat present as always and hair clearly unwashed and unbrushed. Even though he usually looked like this, it almost seemed suspicious today. The unusual happy disposition and the complete mess of his appearance was enough to make the hairs on the back of Frank's neck stand up.

"Hi....Gee."

"It's Gerard today. And hi."

"Are you...Are you okay?"

"Yeah! Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're so...happy. I mean, not that good mental health isn't great, but I mean, you're never happy. Are you high or something? How much did you drink?"

"I didn't do any drugs. I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."