There wasn’t any question about it. No misunderstanding, he wasn’t going cross-eyed or blind. It was right there on the list, in black and white.
Frank Anthony Iero. Partner: Gerard Arthur Way.
Well. Frank thought. Shit.
+++
“Gerard! Hey, Gerard, wait up!” Gerard had just stormed out of the school, striding across the lawn to his car, when Mikey caught up with him.
“Jesus, what crawled up your ass and died?” Mikey said. “I need a ride today, dick, or did you forget?”
“Fuck. Off.” Gerard snarled, shooting a glare at a freshman that was in his way. Goddamn school and goddamn senior year assignment and goddamn Mrs. Cunshaw for setting this up and-–
Mikey’s hand shot out and grabbed his upper arm, forcing him to turn around.
“What!” he snapped. Mikey looked taken aback for a second before glaring right back.
“Never mind, asshole. I’ll be damned if I’m sitting in a car with you like this. I’ll walk.” And before Gerard could react, he’d turned around and walked off, stuffing his headphones in his ears.
+++
His mom had given him a lecture, his dad was pissed off and Mikey hadn’t said a word all evening. Five hours after storming out of the school and Gerard was still going strong. A little figurine his aunt had given him for his birthday once, a small hand mirror that belonged to an ex-girlfriend, both were shattered on the floor near his window. His music was blasting angrily in the background and he’d been pacing back and forth for the past hour. It was only when the music clicked off that he noticed someone else was in the room.
“Okay”, Mikey said evenly, “say that, hypothetically, I’m not fucking pissed off at you anymore.”
Gerard glared. Mikey ignored him and went on.
“Then, hypothetically, you’ve got tell me what’s got you throwing such a hissy fit, before you a) blast all the fucking the windows out or b) get so worked up you’ll go on for another week. Do I really need to remind you of that time I accidentally threw out all your oil paints--”
“--Oil pastels--” Gerard muttered through clenched teeth.
“--whatever, and you were not to be spoken to for two weeks, which resulted in multiple detentions and being grounded for a month because you couldn’t keep your temper in check?”
Gerard tried to kick up the glare another notch and was itching to throw out another bitch à la “How about you hypothetically deliver your ass to the hallway, you little shit.”, but he knew, though he wouldn’t admit it even on pain of loss of comics, that Mikey might have a point. Kind of. Buried deep down. Somewhere.
He unclenched his fists, let out a sigh and moved to sit down on the bed. The mattress dented as Mikey sat down next to him, patiently waiting for Gerard to put some sort of reasoning behind his behaviour.
“You know that senior assignment that’s pretty much always been 'go see the spring play and sign the register in exchange for extra credit'?”
Mikey nodded.
“Cunshaw decided to change things up a bit this year. And by ‘things’, I mean ‘every-fucking-thing’.”
Mikey looked sympathetic. “Bummer. What’re they making you do now?”
“Play an assigned scene from Romeo and Juliet.”
Mikey’s lips twitched.
“With a partner.”
