Disenchanted (Frerard) Wattys2015

Prologue

~ A/N This is sequel to My Illegal Romance, it's not crucial you read it, it's very different but would probably make more sense. Please enjoy, I hope :] ~

Asshole.

That's what I was, an asshole, everyone thought it and I hope they knew I did too? I knew that, I was the biggest asshole to walk this earth. I was just a walking, talking piece of shit.

Five years, five fucking years. You wouldn't actually think someone would just up and leave, run away leaving nobody to hear from them for five years, would you? Well that's okay, I didn't quite do that, I up and left, I ran away and it had been five years, but I broke my silence, too late and to my great regret, but I broke it. The ninth of April.

For the first month or so, I got text, after text, after text, after motherfucking text from everyone. Vic, Kellin, Hannah, Pete, Hayley, my Mom and Gerard, they all texted me time after time asking me to tell them where I was, or tell them if I was okay. The first few were kind of hard to ignore, especially from Gerard, but it was for the best. After the first month most people stopped to a certain extent, Hannah texted me every weekend, and Gerard rang me on the first of every month and texted me too. Vic, Kellin, Hannah, my Mom and Gerard all texted me on my birthday and Christmas, always just a simple 'Happy birthday,' and their name, from everyone except Gerard. Gerard's was always something like this:

G - I suppose this is just another year that you wish I would just fuck off, and I want to, I am so pissed off, I want to hate you but I can't, I just can't. I miss you Frankie, I just want to know you're safe, you're okay and you're happy, I'm sorry, Happy Birthday. Have a good one sugar. Gxoxox

Or when he was cleraly drunk or just emotional as fuck, it was more like this:

G - what did I do? I still love you. I never meant to hurt you, you're a cunt. You're a self centered twat, why do I love you? I want you to tell me, like you used to. I want it to have been really and not you talking shit. Don't fucking talk to me. I love you.

Sort of an emotional mess, it was a complete split between still loving me, and hating my guts. And of course I didn't blame him, I fucked up, I fucked up bad. But of course a day or even just several hours later I'd get a stupid apology text telling me he was drunk and he was sorry, just a short text which he probably assumed I would never even see.

I usually cried, it was hard not to, I missed him too, but I told myself I didn't and I told myself I had to believe it, because I did. In my crazy, fucked up head, I had to believe that what I did was the best for everybody. I never ever replied, I never texted any of them back, or at all, except this year I couldn't stop myself.

I picked my phone up from the bedside table as I sat up, the bright light streaming through the gap in the curtain almost blinding me. I twisted my phone between my fingers several times as I sat back against the headboard. Flipping it open, I bit my lip debating whether what I was about to do was a wise move or not, it obviously wasn't, but it was hard to resist, really hard to resist.

Scrolling through my contacts, I stopped when I came across the person I was looking for - G - was it a good idea? Fuck no. Was I going to do it anyway? Of course, maybe it made me more of an asshole, I didn't even know, but I still cared about him and I still missed him. Taking a deep breath I typed in a short message, nothing long, or meaningful just enough to say what I wanted to.

Me - Happy Birthday :) I miss you too. Frank

A few tears escaped my eyes as I pressed send and put my phone back down on the bedside table. Throwing my head back against the headboard, I let more tears trickle down my cheeks, what a stupid thing I had just done.