Frank’s P.O.V.
I wake up to see Gerard licking my face. He notices I’m awake and smiles, licking my cheek once more before saying, “Wake up Frankie. We have school, remember?”
I yawn as I stretch, shoving Gerard to the side and lifting my arms towards the ceiling.
“Rude!” Gerard squeaks, tossing a pillow at me. He stops, then giggles. “Hey Frank, now that’s what I call a throw pillow.”
I look over at Gerard with my eyebrows raised, but he’s too busy laughing at his own pun to see my comical expression. I shake my head and go to get dressed, pulling on slacks. Gerard gets up as well, and soon he is tapping on my shoulder. I turn around to face him.
He’s standing there in his uniform, his tie undone and hanging around his neck. “Frank? I don’t know how to tie a tie.”
I smile and make a signal for him to step closer. Around, around, under, over through. I lock eyes with Gerard as I tie, gazing into his dreamy hazel eyes.
“You guys ready?!” Billie shouts through the door, breaking the moment. I sigh, settling for a peck to Gerard’s cheek before grabbing my bag. Gerard grins devilishly and then smacks my ass, saying,
“Come on Frank. You heard the man.”
On the way to the school, Gerard lights a cigarette. He closes his eyes and moans with pleasure as he inhales, exhaling slowly.
Billie flashes a disapproving look before snatching the cigarette away, sticking it into his own mouth and frowning at Gerard.
“That’s a filthy habit, Gee,” Billie warns, puffing away on Gerard’s cigarette.
Gerard stares at him disbelievingly. “But you’re doing it!”
“What’s good for the goose is not good for the gander,” Billie retorts.
“Um, I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” I cut in.
“Shut up. I’m older than you,” Billie shoots back, taking another drag of the cigarette.
He drops us off, and Gerard hurries inside. I can’t keep up, and I end up dropping everything. I try to call for Gee, but he’s already in the school. I sigh, dropping to my knees and beginning to scoop everything together.
Some boys from my grade emerge. One of them kicks my books, and another plants a foot onto my back, pushing me to the ground on my stomach. He pins me there, asking,
“Who’s that faggot that drops you off?”
“And is that weird kid Gerard your brother?” another adds.
“I know the guy who drops him off!” a boy interrupts. “He’s some weirdo that lives in the shithole apartments across town. He’s butt buddies with this fag that used to be my neighbor.”
The other boys laugh, and I use it to try to get to my feet. The boy sharply presses his foot down onto me, pushing me back to the cement.
“One question’s answered,” a boy sneers. He gets close to my face. “Is Gerard your brother?”
I look him in the eyes, and spit into his face. “He’s my boyfriend, asshole.”
The boy reels back, wiping off his face. “Oh you’re dead, freakshow!”
I curl into a ball as they begin kicking me, willing myself not to fight back. I can’t attack them here… with witnesses.
“Look at this pussy! Curled up like a little bitch!” one of them jeers. With that, he kicks me in the face.
I spit out strings of blood as one of them pulls my blazer over my head, taking it off. I thank whatever God exists that he doesn’t pull off my dress shirt as well, because that would leave my wings exposed. He twists it into a whip and smacks me in the back with it.
I cry out in pain and roll over onto my back, to be struck again across the chest. He nails me in the face with it, and tears begin to pour down my face. I haven’t been hit since I was a human; and it hurts like a bitch.
One of them sits on the small of my back, straddling me. He grabs my underwear and pulls on them, and I scream for him to stop.
“Stop!” I shout, my legs curling up and my balls going back into my body.
“He’s wearing panties!” he laughs, tugging harder.
The other boys burst out laughing, and I hear the click of a camera, and I’m positive that at least one of them has their phone out and this is going on YouTube. I remember that I’m currently wearing lace, pink floral panties. That’s probably why this wedgie hurts like Hell. Believe me, it’s not the first one I’ve gotten in my life. I’m wearing them since its Friday, and Gerard and I were going to have sex tonight.
I hear part of the lace rip, and the boy finally releases me, crying from laughing. I lay on the ground, tucking the salvages of underwear back into my slacks and hearing the boys finally leave. I find my shirt and put it back on, noticing the red marks on my body from where I was whipped with it. I stand, slowly heading down the hall and making it to first period with dried blood running from my nose and mouth.
Gerard’s P.O.V.
I see Frank in the hallways after first period, and I grab him by the collar and pull him into a bathroom. I stare at his bloodied face in shock. I run a paper towel under the faucet and press it to his mouth, causing him to hiss with pain.
“Who did this to you?” I demand.
Frank doesn’t look at me. “Just some boys from my class.”
“Frank, why the fuck didn’t you defend yourself?” I ask.
“Because I was too afraid I was going to kill them!” Frank answers. He looks up at me, his eyes teary.
I shake my head and pull Frank into a one armed hugged, whispering, “Jesus, Frankie.”
I kiss him on the cheek, before saying, “I gotta go, babe. Take care of yourself, you hear me?”
Frank nods, and forces a smile as I leave.
When Billie picks us up after school, he stares at Frank’s battered face with his mouth agape.
“Frank! D-Did boys from your school do this?” Billie asks.
He nods.
“Why?” Billie questions.
“They were giving me shit about Gerard…” Frank replies. Wait, what? This is my fault? “And you.”
Billie narrows his eyes. “Wait, was the Rosen kid one of the aggressors?”
Frank shrugs. “Why does it matter?”
“That little shit… he just…. He did something to me and Tre, alright?” Billie seethes.
“What?” Gerard asks.
“I don’t want to talk about it!” Billie snaps. “Frank, two times in one week you’ve gotten beat up? If this happens one more time, I’m telling the school.”
“Don’t do that!” Frank protests. “They’ll just kick my ass even harder!”
“Frank, it’s about keeping you safe, not letting those little brats get away with it,” Billie responds. “If I have to tell, I will.”
“Billie…. Please…” Frank begs. With that, he starts to cry.
Billie looks back at him, his eyes filled with empathy. “I’m sorry, Frank. You’ll just have to trust me.”
Frank wipes his eyes as Billie starts out of the parking lot.
Frank’s P.O.V.
“So… you don’t want to have sex…” Gerard says.
“It’s not you, baby,” I assure. I hold my head in my hands. “It’s just this day has been so shit, you know?”
I pull off my slacks, also taking off the panties. I leave them on the floor and head over to my dresser, pulling on a pair of Sonic boxer briefs.
When I turn around, Gerard is holding the panties, turning them around in his hands and examining the rip. “What happened to them?”
I blush, mumbling, “When I got beat up… they gave me a wedgie.”
Gerard smiles sadly, replying, “I used to get those all the time. Probably still will get them. I’m not exactly popular at our school.”
I laugh, and at the same time my stomach feels as though someone has stabbed it. I cry and clutch my belly. Shit, it’s the hunger. Gerard recognizes the symptoms and advises, “Frank go eat. There’s a football game that ended ten minutes ago; there’s bound to be some lost souls wandering around.”
I nod and put on a pair of pants, leaving my shirt off since I’m about to fly anyways. I take off into the dark of the night, soaring over to the football field. I spot someone walking through the woods adjacent to the field, and as I swoop down onto the ground, I find that it is the boy that had given me the wedgie earlier. I decide to land about five feet in front of him. His head is down, so I have an opportunity to fold my wings before he looks up. He jumps, startled, and shouts,
“What the fuck are you doing here, you freak?”
I shrug, approaching him. “Just taking a stroll. I could ask you the same thing.”
“Why don’t you have a shirt on, faggot?” the boy snarls. “You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass again.”
“All the homophobic shit makes you look like a real asshole,” I shoot back.
“You think I give a fuck?” the boy barks.
I unfold my wings, stretching them out to their full span. The boy falls back in shock, sputtering,
“Wh-what is this?”
I walk towards him slowly, and he crab crawls backwards, desperate to avoid me.
“Don’t be scared,” I whisper menacingly. With that, I pounce upon him. He screams as I slash open his throat with my teeth, hungrily digging into the tendons. I suck, moaning loudly. I would have snapped his neck right off of the back, but I hate the jackass so much that I decide to let him suffer before he dies. I finally get on my knees, wiping some of the blood off my mouth with my arm.
I drag his body over towards the cemetery. I quickly dig a hole into one of the graves, and with my strength it doesn’t take long. I shove his body in over the coffin and begin to bury him when I remember something crucial. I take his phone from his pocket and shut it off so it doesn’t ring. I toss it on top of him and continue to bury my prey. I fly back to our apartment, slipping through the window and into bed. It’s pretty late, but Gerard turns over and smiles at me, asking,
“How was it?”
I grin, baring my sharpened teeth, only exposed during or shortly after a kill. “Best I’ve had in years.”

Notes

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