It's the lake in November, and the move closer to the ocean, and Gerard's fixation, and Gerard's compulsions like tidal waves dragging him down, and Mikey's more distant than ever: like they're drifting out into the middle of the ocean, whereas Gerard's just stuck there: water turning to quicksand around him, drowning. And it's the letter; Frank finds it on the floor of the boys' bathroom on the first floor. It's dropped in accident, perhaps from a pocket or something, and it's drenched in what Frank hopes is tap water, and the words: scrawled in blue ink are difficult to make out as the words join together in a fuzzy inky mess. The only paragraph legible is the final one, and even still, it barely is: 'I've been underwater for a long time now, but I'm not drowning, I'm beginning to think I can breathe like this, but I can't, I'm gasping for breath, and I have to do this, Mikey, I have to end this myself. I'm going to the lake on the 1st of November, don't wait for me... I'm not coming back.' And the name signed at the bottom is little more than a smudged mess of blue ink, and there's nothing Frank can do about it, but he knows for certain that the one thing he can't do is ignore this letter, and he reminds himself of that as he folds it into his pocket. It's a suicide note, Frank's stupid, but not stupid enough to brush over that fact, and whoever this person is, Frank knows that they most certainly don't deserve to die. And Frank isn't going to let them. Because he's going to find this person; he's got time now at least, and he can save them, he will save them - Frank promises himself that. But one person in a whole school, it's like a needle in a haystack, but he's got time, it's November 1st in thirty days, and he can only hope that it will be enough. He's got one month: the date is October 1st.

(written in 2016) 2016/01/20 Sunday. If you really want to know about me, this first thing you'd want to read is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and what my parents did in their spare time before they had me, and all that John Green kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you really want to know the truth. In fact, I'd much rather start of by saying that my name is Mikey Way and I spend at least 16 hours a day of my life sitting in a wheelchair. I'd also like to let everyone here know that they are under no obligation to read my blog but I am under obligation to write it. On account of the fact that my therapist thinks I'm John Watson or some crap. Regardless, here I am, pretending to have something to say about how my day went even though if anyone asked I would say that I was fine. Because that's just what you're supposed to say instead of saying that it's cold and miserable and if you died you wouldn't really mind. But I'll post this anyway while pretending to think that anyone will read it.

{COMPLETED} Pete likes rain. He also likes Mikey Way. Mikey knows it too. He also like Pete. But one mistaken night leads to hardships between the two, leaving Mikey with a question he might not be able to answer, and Pete with a terrible dilemma. Gerard loves working with kids, Frank is fucking tired. The two meet at the hospital where Gerard works and Frank is admitted. Will Gerard's methods work on older kids too? Or maybe Frank just falls for people too easily...? But that's what got him in the hospital the first time, and he is determined not to let that happen again. Ryan likes dinosaurs. Purple ones especially. He was diagnosed with Lukemia when he was three, almost four, aka six months earlier, but he's still not quite sure what that means. But he knows the nice grandma, Ms. Urie, has the same thing he has. He also knows she has a grandson his age who comes to visit sometimes. One thing he knows about Ms. Urie's grandson is he makes Ryan smiley too :) Um... yeah, Petekey, Frerard, and kid!Ryden whoooo! --WARNING: mentions of depression, suicide and rape-- October 2015- March 2016

Geoff's regularly been missing band practice. Otto won't tell Awsten why.