The Sharpest Lives (frerard)

Fight For me

Frank Iero

"Frank, are you listening to me?" Mr Gregson calls out to me, making the room go deadly silent.

"Yes, sir." I sigh, putting my pen down.

"Oh really? What did I just say?"

"Uh... that the-"

"No. You weren't listening. You were... What? Drawing?" He smirks, making the whole class whisper and giggle behind my back.

"So what if I was?" I ask, staring at him.

"Well Frank, this is math class, so you're meant to be paying attention." Mr Gregson instructs me. I sigh again and begin to close my book when he stops me.

"Wait. I want to see what drawing could possibly be so important as to ignore what your meant to be learning." He tells me. Fuck. I feel my face grow hot, my heart beating faster and faster. He walks over to where I sit and stares down at me like a vulture about to attack its prey. I feel the eyes of thirty other students pierce my skin, burning holes through the back of my head. I'd rather die than show my teacher my drawing, but what choice do I have?

My hands move away from my book, leaving it open for Mr Gregson to see. He picks up my maths book, studies the picture, and utters quietly: "I'll see you after class, Frank." In a low voice, placing my book back in front of me. I hear the whole class snicker at me, whispering and bitching about me. Ignoring them, I look back over at the picture I was drawing. What's so bad about it? It's only a hand covered in blood holding a knife. Why would Mr Gregson want to see me after class for that?

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"Why do you think he wants to see you?" Gerard asks me as I fidget nervously with my hands, waiting for Mr Gregson to open the door and give me an unbearably long lecture on who knows what.

"I don't know. It might be about what I was drawing." I answer quietly, biting my lip. Why am I so nervous? I get lectured on things that my teachers think I should change about myself all the time.

"What were you drawing?" Gerard questions me, checking his timetable.

"Just a-" I try to say, but I'm cut off by another booming voice coming from our right side. My head spins toward the sound, and my eyes catch Max, my lifelong tormentor staring me down with his overly populated group of followers.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? You in trouble again, Iero?" Max pouts, his friends snickering behind him.

"Leave us alone," Gerard growls.

"You know, Frank, you won't always have your little boyfriend here to protect you. One day I'll find you on your own and..." He swings his arm around so that his fist bangs into his other hand, trying to intimidate me.

"He's not my fucking boyfriend." Me and Gerard hiss at him at the same time. I look over to Gerard, and he rolls his eyes, sighing. Why does everyone think we're gay? Were not. Obviously.

But when I look at him, it feels as though the whole world stops and stares at him in awe as well. My heart racing a million miles per hour, I study his deathly pale face; his determined, glowing hazel eyes, his soft pink cheeks, his thin lips pulled back in a snarl...

And in the exact moment, I realize I want him to be mine.

"Thank you for waiting for me, Frank." Mr Gregson suddenly appears from my right holding about a thousand binders while adjusting his glasses. "Oh hello, Max." He says sourly, nodding to Max as he leans on a locker.