My Beautiful Romance. My Innocent Romance. [MCR boyxboy]

Chapter 10~No Children

a/n Ello again! this is chapter 10 written graciously by AlexUnicornWay. She was the ONLY person who sent anything in and instead of just doing one scean she did a whole chapter! That's awesome. and makes me feel super layy buuutttt i'm reeallly glad i hadn't updated because this is awesome. and helps me establish who Frank (sr. Frank the guitarist's dad) is.

it goes to the song "No Children" by The Mountain Goats. I've never heard them before today haha. but here you go. when i first heard the song i thought the singer sounded like Weird Al ( any A/N in the text are from AlexUnicornWay BTW) i didn't change anythin but a little grammer (though my grammer sucks so don't expect much)

Chapter 10

Mikeys POV

I yawned, streching softly and sitting down on the couch: it was nine and getting dark. Hell, it was dark. I was home alone because mom had to work and Gerard, Gerard was with him. Sometimes, I hate Frank Iero. I hate New Jersey. Before I came here I had a brother, a family, a life. And now I had nothing. I went everywhere alone because Gee walked too and from school with him and then they'd hang out for hours doing god knows what. They were out there right now, having adventures, rocking worlds. Thay were probably just at Frank's house, but in my mind I saw them doing amazing, wonderful things while I sat here alone. Nothing but my coffee to keep me company. I was Sixteen and I had no friends, no boyfriend and no life.

Before we came to New Jersey I'd imagined making friends, becoming a diferent better version of myself. I'd imagined my life changing, finally doing something worth remembering but the only changes I'd exprerianced were changes for the worse. Well F**k (AN I don't usually cut out swearing but I noticed you do so I did... :) ) this. F**k sitting around doing nothing. I went to the massive speaker my mother had, she liked classical music and belived the only way to enjoy it properly was to turn it up loud and imagine she was really there, and shoved in my Mountian Goats CD. I skipped to the song that I needed. No Children. I sat on the floor, resing my back against the wall, and shoved my thumb into my mouth. This song pretty much described exactly how I felt about life. I don't love Gee, in that way. God no. It's just... he was my best friend, my only friend, for so long. He was the only person who understood me, he was the first person who I told when I realised I was gay and he was there for me. He was, or had been, the best brother in the world. But he had always been snappy, and impatient, and selfish. Except for with me. And he'd always been so depressed and depressing. But it was like the song said. He was drowning, and he dragged me down with him. But now it was like he'd gotten Frank and Frank'd lifted him up. And they left me here, at the bottom of the f*****g ocean. Because he'd made himself matter, he'd made himself everything, and then he just went. I put my head in my hands, and if someone was there it might have been an attempt to hide my tears from them but there was no one there, no one at all.

The song ended and I got up, running a hand through my hair. I turned the speakers off and went upstairs to my room. In the old house Gee and I had shared a room, that'd been so awesome. We used to talk and shear music and comic books. Most people would probably love to have a room to themselves, but not me. But Gee'd been really happy about it so I pretended to be too. This was stupid. I couldn't spend all night moping just because my brother had a life. That's just stupid and selfish. He's allowed to have a life. My phone beeped and I took it out of my pocket. It was a text from mom. "Gonna have to work all night, there was a... minor emergency, make sure you guys eat something. Get to bed at a reasonable time you have school! Love you two- Mom." That was to be expected, there was always some type of emergency where mom worked. I sat down on my bed and tool my glasses off, allowing the world to become a blurry mess. It's what I do when I'm stressed. It usually works too. But not that day. I was tired, exaused in fact, but I couldn't sleep at night anymore. I suppose if you've spent your whole life falling asleep to the sound of someone breathing it's hard to change. It even smelled wrong here. In our old room it smelt like dirty clothes and comic books and spilled coffee: here it just smelt like fresh paint. Damn it we'd been here for at least a month, I was loosing track of time, and it still didn't feel like home.