Andy has been serving royalty her whole life. She did everything they asked with a smile. But when the king starts changing laws and making life hard for everyone, she must do the one thing that she never thought she would do; betray the royal family. Everyone in the city needs an escape. Against all odds, the one person they least expected, would be their escape. Join Andy in this urban day kingdom as she risks it all to save.... Fugitives.

Mikey left with the weird Wentz kid, leaving Frank to run into his gothic brother, Gerard, who only comes out of the basement for coffee. When Frank was invited to go with him to the cemetery, he was only expecting poetry slams, and only going one night. But something weird is happening, and Gerard has some attractive force that isn't just due to looks.

Gerard was late, and it was fucking raining. He'd missed the bus and it was fucking raining, and he was totally going to get dropped from the play if he was late again and he was so fucking screwed, but honestly Gerard wasn't all that keen on it when he'd heard the only main part he'd managed to get in this damn theatre group was of a fucking crossdresser. For someone who was supposed to be in the closet, he was doing an awfully bad job of it. Frank Iero was Gerard's favourite punk ass skater dickhead, that he was currently working on eternally denying to himself the crush he had on Frank, which totally didn't exist of course, but Frank was really cute, and Gerard was really stupid; stupid enough to think that he could totally pull off pretending to be a girl in order for heterosexual Frank Iero to fall for him. Surely, this was truly the worst idea Gerard Way has ever had.

Ryan finds out he has a deadly STD, he tries to live the rest of his life to the fullest. When he goes out for his daily donut at the campus bakery, he meets young Brendon. A happy go lucky music major. Ryan quickly takes a liking to the boy and quickly befriends him. The more secrets the two share, the more Ryan finds himself falling for him.

"You can run away with me, anytime you want." I want to get away. Away from the abuse at home, at school hell, but we're not friends. I could never be friends with Gerard Way. He's just some guy that fate seems to drive me towards. His brother may be even more of asshole than him, making my school life living hell and I guess things at home are not too great either. And despite how much of an asshole Gerard Way is, he's the only one that seems to make anything better.

"Gerard, what's going on? Gerard, please. Gerard, I need you. Gerard, stop this. I can't do this without you. What's happening? Please. Just listen to me." -------------------------------------------------------------------------- [Warning: may be triggering for some individuals]

[This is the sequel to Tell Me I'm A Bad Man, it's not a necessity to read that first, but you probably should] Frank was under the impression that as soon as he'd graduated and moved to New York with Gerard, everything would be, well, perfect. Though he wasn't completely naïve - he knew that the presence of Gerard's apparently suicidal ex-boyfriend was going to make things difficult, but he didn't know that his intense distrust of the man would start to break down the relationship he'd tried so hard to keep. And then lies upon lies upon lies from everybody start to build, until nobody's sure of the truth anymore. Six months isn't long, but it's enough. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- [sexual content, may be triggering for some individuals]

What is the best way to keep a secret? "Tell it to everyone you know, but pretend you are kidding" - Lemony Snicket. It turned out that Snicket was painfully correct. By the time I reached P.E. after lunch on Monday, it was tipping over the edge of eighty degrees, and my red hoodie had been stuffed in the back of my locker since Brunch. I'd lost count of how many people had gaped at my arm with shocked expressions and open mouths, curious voices unsure of whether or not they wanted to know the answer asking, "Did you cut your arm?" By third period, I'd gotten so fucking sick of repeating the same excuse that my sarcastic asshole side had leaked out. So, I'd been responding to my classmates appalled questions with something along the lines of, "Yes, I cut myself." There was a kind of sick humor to it - technically, I was telling the truth. Not that anyone would ever know it. Cover cred to RazorbladeKissesx