Paint (Frerard)

Silver;

It was Tuesday again.

"Fuck Tuesdays" Gerard muttered to himself, turning and stumbling over a stray paintbrush that had been left disgarded on the floor of his art studio.

He sighed in a content manner as he surveyed the painting that had taken him all monday to complete, Mikey often told him that he was stupid, painting pictures to win over the heart of a certain man who's name rhymed with pie-hoe. You see, you may be wandering why a certain 27 year old man was wasting his life on this, but to gerard, art was his life. He found love in the dramatic scenery, heartbreak and loss in the sad sunsets. Every painting was different, and that was what he lived by. A painting could tell a story, you see. Add a certain colour and effect on an innocent enough girl and she could become something seemingly evil, a dark shadow next to  the sun.

And Gerard loved it.

This Tuesdays painting had been a small one, beautiful nonetheless. It was of a gorgeous field full of flowering plants of all colours, the sun hitting straight ahead and basking the world in a warm golden glow. In the middle of the field was a bat. The bat was lying on its back, from first glance looking peaceful, but the only thing that would account for it not looking as innocent ad it sounded was the fact that the bat was missing its head. Its head, per se wasn't missing, more disembodied and strewn next to the left wing in a crimson pool of blood, the colours clashing violently with such peaceful nature. He didn't know why he painted it, or why he had chosen such an image, but was certain Frank would love this one.

He took a photo of it with his sharpie covered sidekick and emailed it to FrankIero@NYgalleries.com with the caption

'New painting to be delivered, will call by at usual time to drop off.

-Gerard'

Grinning to himself at the thought of seeing frank today, despite it being the dreaded tuesday. He bounced down the attic stairs into his moderate bedroom and pulled on the first thing he found in his wardrobe, a white button up shirt and a pair of comfortable blue jeans. Squinting at himself in the mirror, he shrugged and decided to put on a leather jacket too.

'Maybe frank likes leather'

He thought to himself as he scrambled to find a pair of matching socks, of course unsuccessful.

Something caught his eye as he was about to walk out of the door, it was the framed painting that was hung proudly on his wall, a large silver spray painted canvas with an intricate design printed carefully into it.

Gerard decided that on this Tuesday, silver would be his new favourite colour.

Hi kids, first chapter is up and dedicated to therevengeparade for congratulations on finishing her series of the man I know im not. It broke my heart but in a good way y'know?

But anyway I hope you liked it, comments amd votes appreciated

-madness xx