The Sharpest Lives (frerard)

Hate

Gerard Way

"So Frank's... wait Im still confused," Ray mutters as I grab a heavy maths textbook out of my locker and place it into my bag.

"He ran away because his dad won't accept him, came back to my house while I was out looking for him, had a huge fight with his dad who grabbed him and threw him into the car, then drove away. I haven't heard from him since, and I've been texting him every day," I explain uneasily, my voice low.

"Do you think Frank's dad confiscated his phone? I mean, that's the best way to stop someone from communicating with someone you don't like, I guess," Ray suggests, and I nod forcefully, needing to let myself believe he's not in trouble.

"It's going to be ok, Gerard. He's not dead, and you know that. No matter how much Frank's dad may hate him, he wouldn't just kill him, ok?" Mikey murmurs as he places a hand on my shoulder, the words dead and kill sending shivers down my spine.

"Yeah, you know, your right... I need to stop-" But as soon as the words exit my lips, a barely audible whisper passes through my ears.

"Follow me," the voice murmurs as my head snaps towards the noise, my eyes catching Frank walking past me quickly, a large maroon bruise lying on his cheek. I look around at Mikey and Ray; they heard him as well. We walk behind him, watching him turn the corner and slipping out of view. I follow him hesitantly, noticing his foot just entering an abandoned classroom.

"Frank? Are you ok?" I ask quickly as we follow him inside the classroom. As soon as I enter, my eyes catch Frank sitting on a table, but it's not Frank at all. His eyes have huge, hideous bags under them, the sleepless nights he's been having clearly showing. The huge bruise on his face I saw earlier seems to have doubled in size and ugliness under this dim light. His arms that are wrapped around his knees shake uncontrollably and his breathing seems to quicken every second.

No, this is not Frank. This is a panicked, hurt, scared person I've never met before.

Frank shakes his head vigorously, tears forming in his eyes. I stride over to him, embracing him in my arms.

"Tell me exactly what happened as soon as you left my house," I say earnestly.

"He drove us... he drove us h-home," Frank stutters, leaning into my arms. "As soon as we got inside he grabbed a beer, downed that in three seconds, then grabbed another. It doesn't take much to get him drunk. Then, once he was drunk, he started yelling at me. Really yelling. About how I was a disgrace it the family, that I didn't-" he stops, his voice getting thick with tears. "I'm sorry... I was so scared, I don't know what to do. He kept yelling, it was... I hadn't seen him like this. Except for the time he was yelling at my mom for cheating. Anyway he got really angry, and I was crying uncontrollably and he was yelling at me about how 'boys don't cry', that makes them weak or something. Then he... he hit me," Frank's hand moves over the bruise on his cheek, wincing.

"Oh my fucking god," I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.

"Holy shit... your dad did that to you? Because you like guys?" Ray mutters, putting a hand on Frank's shoulder.

"Yeah... he said I... I need to break up with you... and I know I shouldn't, I don't want to, but I... I don't want him to hurt me again, Gerard," he breaks down again, leaning into my arms. "I'm so weak...."

"No your not, don't say that! Just because you don't want to be abused does not make you weak at all. Well... we'll get through this, ok?" He nods, steadying himself and taking a shaky sigh.

"Ok," He sighs, the hyperventilating starting to cease as he leans into my arms. "Oh, and sorry I didn't answer your texts. He took my phone away from me because Im grounded now. I literally can't do anything in that stupid fucking house!" 

"Hey... I know this isn't exactly the time, but have you seen Mikey? He did come with us, right?" Ray breaks through the conversation. I look around quickly, my heart beginning to speed up. Rays right. He's not here.

"Shit. Did you see him leave?"

"No, I only just noticed,"

"Where do you think he would've gone...?" Frank asks, wiping his tears with the back of his sleeve.

"I don't... you know what, we can find him later. Your issues are more important than finding Mikey at the moment," I say, trying to stay steady, but my mind flashes back to the rooftop when Mikey had shown me his wrist. What if...

No I can't think like that. I'm sure he's fine. He has to be-

"What the..." a sudden voice crashes through my thoughts as I look up, spotting our homeroom teacher standing at the doorway. Frank struggles to lift himself from my arms as he spots the teacher, clearing his eyes from the tears.

"What is going on here?" She asks, her hands on her hips but as she sees Frank's tear-stained face, she drops the attitude. "Oh my god, Frank are you-"

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," he mutters, cringing as he gets off the table and walks right past her and into the hallway.

"Oh... ok then," she says, confused. I follow Frank out the door, Ray following quickly behind us as we exit the room in a rush.

Just as we exit the room, though, a boy with anxious eyes and a sad frown strides up to us, his hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Mikey! Where were you?" I say quickly as he reaches us.

"I... I was just... going to the bathroom. It's fine, don't worry about me," He says harshly, sighing.

"Are you sure? You seem-" I start, but he cuts me off.

"Gerard, Im fine, ok? I promise," He says, but I can tell he doesn't mean it. His eyes hold the same anxiety as the night he showed me his scars. I can see past his faked excuses. He's not ok. And he needs my help.