Fight Fire with Fire (Frerard)

7. I Think They Never Liked You Anyway

To say I was longing for the simple feeling of being free again, would be an understatement. As I sit, listening to Mr. Fuentes waffle on about algebra, I look out the window, seeing the birds flying and the sun shining. I can't describe to you just how good it felt to do something bad. I know I sound ridiculous, but I have been good all my life, and to have a taste of freedom, of pure, sweet, adrenaline pumping freedom, made me look at the world in a whole new way.

It's made me wonder, why do I follow what other people say? I get pushed around way too much for my liking, and I want it to stop. I need it to stop.

Maybe it is my reckless, fed-up-with-my-useless-life side of me, but when I see Frank, I see something I lack. There is a range of thing's I lack – happiness, self-worth, self-confidence, parents who actually care about my dangerously low mental state, decent fucking fashion sense, oh and let's not forget what I lack the most! Freedom.

"Enjoy your lunch guy's" The teacher says as everybody begins pooling out the room like there is a fire.

Sometimes I feel like a fire. Dangerous if anyone gets too close.

Speaking of too close, Mr. Fuentes is now standing way too close to my desk as I sit, staring up at him. He is showing concern and I honestly contemplated running. I really don't want to hear him express his concern for whatever he is concerned about.

"Gerard, I heard your parent's are now fostering Frank Iero. He is in the other math's class I take on a Monday. He seems..." He picks his words carefully, "nice."

He wanted to say otherwise. I know he did. His face says it all. I nod, not really caring for his input.

"If he-well, I mean..." My eyebrows furrow as he tries to think of what to say, "If he is causing any problems, please know you can talk to me. I noticed you have been very distant and lost in your own little world today. He isn't causing this, is he?"

I bite my lip. Why does he think Frank is horrible?

"Frank is n-" Before I could finish telling Mr. Fuentes how wrong his statement was, the classroom door slams open.

"There you are! Gerard, Frank is in a fight!" A girl from my gym class stresses as my eyes widen.

I pull my books to my chest, slipping out of my chair and rushing out the door. My eyes frantically search for the cigarette smelling boy. Why is he in another fight?! Mom and dad are gonna kill him!

"Over here." The girl, Jenna, says as she takes me down the hall and into another.

I stand, taking in the view of Frank's bloodied body getting beaten to smithereens. He is being held against the lockers by Brendon Urie – the schools biggest forehead. Did I say forehead? I meant the schools biggest asshole.

"You like mouthing off don't ya, pretty boy!" Brendon smirks, colliding his fist with Frank's stomach.

I have to stop him! I look around, in between the crowd, trying to find something to stop him with. Let's be realistic, I am a bony, petite kid. There is no way I will be able to pull him off.

People cheer, which is so stuffed up!

Suddenly, my eyes fall on bright yellow. I don't have time to think of the consequences, I just run. Pushing through the disgusting crowd, I grip the thick plastic 'wet floor' sign that stood near Brendon and Frank.

"F-Fuck you!" Frank spit's blood.

With adrenaline and determination, I swing the sign, hitting Brendon in the back and making him fall forward, into Frank's arms.