The Sharpest Lives (frerard)

Disenchanted

Frank Iero

I watch the wind blow softly through his dark hair as he slouches against the dilapidated brick wall, a flask in one hand and a cigarette in the other. His eyes seem to be staring sadly at another dimension, his cheeks stained with tears and his eyes wide.

"Hey," I say softly as he lifts his gaze to me, his eyes glary.

"Oh, hey," His voice sounds husky and choked as he speaks, the caramel texture of it disappearing completely. I sit down next to him, watching his eyes return to that dazed place they were before I joined him. He takes a sip from the flask, wincing as he places it on the cement between us. I lift it slowly, taking it to my lips and as the bitter alcohol runs down my throat, I give it my best shot not to spit it out. He laughs and although it's small and almost meaningless, Im glad I could make him smile for a second.

"Where'd you get this from?" I ask as I take another sip.

"My mom keeps heaps of alcohol that she never drinks. If she found out about this, she'd probably kill me..."

"Yeah, we're really underage,"

"Im almost twenty one..."

"Were seventeen,"

He shrugs as if it means absolutely nothing, downing the flask and wincing as he swallows. I laugh, my eyes turning to him as his eyes haze over again.

"How do you drink that stuff?" I laugh, my throat stinging.

"I don't know. It numbs the pain though," He mutters, sighing. We sit in silence for a minute, the air blowing faintly through Gerard's hair as it dances around his face.

"How are you?" I say softly, knowing I need to choose my words carefully in front of him now.

"Im..." He hesitates, but I don't expect him to answer.

"Thats ok," I place my hand on his, intertwining our fingers. "You don't have to be ok,"

"I know... I just," He takes a shaky breath, steadying himself. "I don't want to seem weak,"

"You're not weak! You're allowed to cry, you're allowed to not be ok. It's fine. And whoever thinks it's not, deserves a fist to the face from yours truly,"

He grins, taking another puff of his cigarette. But the smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared. "It's just... the house is so empty. There's no walking to school with him, eating dinner with him, talking about comic books we both like with him anymore. There's just emptiness. A constant hole in my chest of sadness that I don't think Ill ever really fill in," A tear slips down his cheek as he sighs again, his eyes drifting up. "Sorry, I just..."

"No, it's ok. Its good to talk about these things." I hesitate, an idea growing in my mind. "Hey. I have an idea for what might make you feel better," I smile, standing up and extending my arm for him. He takes it hesitantly as I hoist him up.

"What is it?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowing. I stay silent, taking his hand again and leading him down the street.

"What the fuck are we doing?" He sighs as we turn the corner, heading to an old, dilapidated house, bricks falling off the walls and the door hanging off its hinges, piles of rubble surrounding the property. I walk over to the side of the house, three sledgehammers lying against the bricks.

"Frank..." Gerard says slowly, his eyes flicking from the hammers to the house, and back at me. I smile, picking up a sledgehammer and handing it to him. He hesitates, staring at it for a second before grabbing it and swinging it over his shoulder. I pick up one lying against the rubble, walking towards the house.

Gerard looks around uncertainty, making sure there are no witnesses, then swings the hammer towards the decaying brick and with a deafening thud, it collides with the wall, creating a hole in the wall. A smile forms on his face as I join him, swinging the hammer around, watching it hit the wall as bricks fall, dust covering our clothes.

"Feel better?" I ask as he takes another hit at the wall, his eyes filled with determination and his teeth clenched. He doesn't answer, the wall crumbling in front of us tumbling down to the ground. Without turning back to me, he walks up to the wall beside it, swinging the sledgehammer at the wall with full force. Determination seems to be replaced with anger as it flares up in his eyes, his knuckles turning white as he grips the hammer, hitting the wall over and over until that too, collapses. He stops, letting the hammer hit the ground as tears start rolling down his cheeks, the sound of sirens suddenly growing increasingly loud.

"Shit. Gerard, are you ok?" I ask quickly, glancing behind me to see a police car driving up the road right behind us, its lights flashing red and blue.

"Yeah, I... Oh my god," His face drains of blood as he turns his head, catching sight of the police. I grab his hand, pulling him forward as I start running, the cops getting closer every second.

"Fuck fuck fuck... Frank, we can't get caught!" Gerard says exasperatedly as we skid around the corner, sirens becoming deafening.

"I know, I... your house is really close. Let's just go there. They won't find us..."

"Ok... ok let's go," He breathes as my feet stumble over the gutter, taking us across the road, the cops' sirens growing faint for a second, then louder and louder until the police car turns the corner just as we make it to the other side of the road.

"Shit!" I yell, dragging us down the alleyway before the cops reach us. I flatten myself against the wall, Gerard doing the same as the car speeds past us, its sirens gradually growing fainter and fainter as it completely misses us.

"Oh... my god," I let out a huge sigh, a grin forming on my lips.

'Lets never do that again," Gerard laughs, forcing me to burst into laughter as well. I smell the alcohol mixed with smoke lingering on his breath and wonder what the cops would've done with Gerard. But my concerns are quickly wiped away as his laughter fills the whole alleyway, and just the sound of him happy, even for a second, gives me a slight hope that he'll stay like that.