.~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~. Frank's POV .~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~. It's the end of our third show. The crowd's cheering loud, asking for an encore. My bandmates and I are soaked with sweat. I look to the left of me. Mikey, Gerard's little brother and one of my friends, smiles bright, just like Ray, our friend and also a genius of a guitarist, with all of his almost unnaturally white teeth on display. I turn around to look at Bob, our drummer and only friend who isn't from New Jersey but from Chicago. He looks worn out but satisfied and not even he can keep a tiny smile off of his face. I, myself, am the happiest I have ever been. Being on stage and being able to make music with my friends is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I turn back around to face the crowd again. Smiles spread on all their faces, they are screaming our names, still begging for an encore. I feel my lips crack into a huge smile without my permission. I look to the left of me to face Gerard, our singer. He is my best friend but also my worst enemy at times. He hides his face behind his sweat soaked hair like he did after the last two shows. He doesn't smile, he doesn't look up. He keeps his eyes locked on the ground. Though the drugs' effects are probably starting to fade again he is not back yet. He's not himself yet. Say what you want but I am not convinced that drugs make you feel any better. After every high there is a low. After every calm there comes a storm. But I guess that's just how it goes sometimes. You give yourself up to something that makes you feel anything for a while, you start wanting more and eventually you lose touch with reality. Eventually you keep your head in the clouds but fail to keep your feet on the ground. It's not like we never tried to convince Gerard to stop this drug thing he has going on. We tried even before we were a band. Back when we were still just friends hanging out and doing things we loved with the people we loved. We tried to tell him that this isn't going to work out. We tried to tell him that we are worried about him, our friend. We tried. But we obviously didn't try hard enough. Instead of listening to what we were trying to tell him, he chose the unreal world he has built. He decided to stay in his perfect little world instead of facing the real world. Instead of facing reality. But who am I to blame Gerard for his decision? No one wants to face reality. It's a cruel and hateful world we live in. A world where people are being tormented for who they love, who they are, what they like, how they look and what they believe in. Kids these days are being bullied to death before they are 18. What kind of world do we live in where it seems legal to kill teenagers through society. Society tries to tell you that you have to be stick thin to be pretty, that you have to wear designer clothes and look like the people in the magazines to be loved. That you have to be a perfect cast of everyone else. Nobody is allowed to be an individual. If you still decide to have your own opinion, to be yourself, people will judge you, label you and talk shit about you. They will make you an outcast. They will make you fear life and fear to be the person you are so you change and waste the person you are in order not to be judged. You become one of them. But wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person that you are. No one should have to be afraid of being themselves. No one should have to feel like they deserve the cuts on their wrists, the burns on their skin or like they need to skip meals. I mean, would you destroy something beautiful in order to make it perfect? Yeah, no one wants to live in a world like that but everybody has to at some point. By accidently bumping into me while trying to push past me, Mikey ripped me out of my thoughts. He yells a quick "Sorry man" into my ear before he and Ray disappear into the backstage area. I look after them for a moment before I turn back to Gerard. He just stays there like he's frozen, anxiously looking around like he just realized where he is. He hastily turns on his heels and sloppily stumbles his way past me and into the backstage area, too. I look at the crowd and smile bright at them, waving them goodbye before I follow the others and go off stage. Arriving backstage, the first things I hear are Mikey's and Ray's excitement over the show and how this one was even better than the past two shows. I can't help but smile at that. "This show was perfect." Mikey yells excitedly. "Yeah the crowd was amazing." Ray agrees happily. "We were awesome, too." Bob adds as he steps into the room, his face slightly flushed and a huge smile on his face. "Lets hope it won't turn out worse again." Gerard, surprisingly, comments, shooting me a glare before he takes another sip of his water. The others look at me too, aware of what Gerard means but thankfully they don't say anything about it. I roll my eyes, knowing that nothing and nobody would be able to ruin this perfect night for me now. Well, at least I really hope so. I don't need another asshole provoking me and talking shit about my mates and ruining this whole thing for us all. "Alright guys. Time to meet those awesome people that attended our show." Ray states cheerfully, then grabs Mikey and Bob and drags them outside along with himself. Luckily they also grabbed their stuff so Gerard and I don't have to carry their junk too. "Come on, Gee. It's going to be fun!" I say as I try to pull him off the ground, where he decided to sit instead of sitting on one of the couches. "Don't fucking touch me!" Gerard orders while he pulls his arm away violently, almost causing me to lose my balance and fall forward. "Jeez, calm down, man. What did I do wrong now?" I ask, eventually feeling a little bit hurt. "Nothing, yet. You're just...annoying me right now." Gerard groans while he gets to his feet, dusts himself off and then walks past me. I can tell he's pissed as hell, I just don't really know why. I didn't do anything. I didn't really annoy him either, did I? Deciding not to waste another second of my life on wondering about it, I grab my stuff and follow Gerard outside. I didn't even have to take a single step away from the backstage room to find Gerard standing in the hallway of the building, smoking. I should have known that he's not going to walk out there alone. "You kept me waiting, asshole." Gerard mentions, takes another drag of his cigarette before he just flicks the filter away and grabs my arm to drag me after him to the backdoor. We don't have to open the backdoor to hear the people's screams...mostly, or probably only, the girls' screams but I know there are a load of guys out there too. "Are you ready to go out there?" I hear Gerard whisper more to himself than to me. "I should be asking you that." I joke. Gerard just glances at me before he pushes the door handle down and opens the door, allowing me and himself to go outside. The crowd's screaming is almost deafening but it's still undescribably awesome. I notice Gerard flinch a little at the sudden volume. I see Mikey, Ray and Bob pushing through the crowd, attempting to get into the van somewhere on the other side of the parking lot. After about thirty minutes of Gerard and I giving autographs and talking to some people, the crowd starts to clear out again. Only one guy and three girls are left when Gerard and I decide to return to the van and drive to the hotel where we'll be spending the night. So, as we started to walk over to the van I hear something I probably shouldn't have heard. "Hey! Gerard you little faggot!" the guy screams out of nowhere. Gerard acts like he didn't hear it, but stops dead in the track nonetheless. I spin around, already feeling the anger in my guts rising. No one talks like this to my friends, especially not when it comes to my best friend. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Gerard appearing at my side. "What the fuck did you just say?" I yell back at the dude. The girls that stood next to him quickly walked away after they witnessed the scenario. "I didn't talk to you, punk!" the guy yells, taking a few steps towards Gerard and me. "Frank, let it be." I hear Gerard's calm voice break through the silence. "That guy called you a faggot!" I remark angrily. "So what? That guy is not worth your time." Gerard says slightly annoyed before he turns on his heels and gets in the van. But I am so not going to let this guy get away just like that. "Oh did I get to your fag friend? Is he going to cry now? What a pussy." that asshole laughs from a distance of about two feet away from me. I could easily step forward and punch that guy in the face so he can collect his teeth from the ground afterwards. But I won't let him bring me down to his level. Not this time. "You better shut your mouth." I state angrily. "Or what?" he presses, provoking me to the maximum. I ball my hands into fists, the anger becoming almost unbearable. "You are not going to start a fight, punk, are you?" he provokes. "You shouldn't bet on it." I answer annoyed. "You know I would kick your ass." he continues and it's only now that I realize he stands right in front of me, a tiny spark in his eyes hinting me that he is ready to pick up a fight. "Try me, scumbag." I hiss, my voice dripping with wrath. And that was the moment when that guy threw the first punch, his fist causing me to stumble back a few steps. Enough is enough. I hurry back to him and push him back, making him lose his balance, trip and fall to the ground. I jump onto him and start punching him blindly. He tries to push me off of him but only manages to roll around so that it's me who's lying in the dirt now. He punches me one, two, three times before I finally succeed to push him off me. While he writhes in pain on the ground I get back to my feet, feeling pain shoot through my whole body as well. I'm feeling a little dizzy right now but I couldn't care less at this moment. "Do you have enough already?" I scoff viciously. Realizing that he's not going to answer me anytime soon I dust myself off and start to make my way back to the van. I stop next to that wimp and glance down at him. What a douchebag. But just when I wanted to continue my way towards the van that asshole grabs my leg and tries to drag me down, catching me off guard and causing me to fall. I land rather graceless on the ground, face first. When my nose isn't broken after that I'm a lucky motherfucker. "Who's the wimp now?" I hear that guy say before he kicks me in the ribcage. I didn't even recognize that guy getting off the ground. But I don't have enough time to think about that now, I have to prove him that he fucked with the wrong man. As I tried to get up that guy literally threw himself at me and bombarded me with blows. This is going to be interesting. .~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~. Gerard's POV .~*~.~*~.~*~.~*~. "Frank is taking pretty long to come back." Mikey mentions while everyone in the van is waiting for Frank to finally get his ass in here. I just shrug in response, symbolizing my lack of interest. I'm more interested in the pill I'm currently holding in my hand. Should I swallow this one now or later? "Gerard, don't do that." I hear Ray's and Mikey's voices say in unison. "Don't tell me what to do." I spit annoyed. "Gerard, seriously." Bob warns me, his voice as serious as it could ever be. I roll my eyes and decide to keep this one for later. For my friends' sake. "Guys we've got a problem." Mikey says quickly pointing towards the van window behind me. We all turn around to see Frank in the middle of a fight, beating the hell out of the guy and getting the hell beaten out of himself as well. Only because that retard called me a faggot? Frank really needs to get his shit together. "Gerard could you...?" Ray starts shyly but I cut him off. "No. Not this time. I'm not his fucking nanny." I interrupt Ray while stubbornly crossing my arms in front of my chest. "But he always stops when you tell him to." Mikey adds nervously. "No. I'm sick of his shit." I insist. "Gerard, please." Bob pleads, intently watching me. "Fucking fine. For the last time. Once more and he is out of the band." I answer, then go out of the van before they can say anything about it. "Frank!" I yell across the parking lot. No reaction. They continue fighting. I walk further across the parking lot and come to a halt about three feet away from them, keeping a safe distance. "Fucking stop already you pricks!" I scream. They both flinch at the sound of my voice and stop fighting to look up at me. "You" I start as I point at the guy who Frank currently sits on "fuck off and get yourself a fucking life! Now!" I warn him but he just stays where he lays on the ground, blood smeared all over his face and his white shirt. "Fucking move!" I yell viciously at him and finally he pushes Frank off him, gets back to his feet and hobbles away from me and Frank. "And you" I continue as soon as the other guy is gone "keep your shit together. One more fight and you're out of the band. I'm not joking." I warn Frank whose eyes widen in shock. "But..." he starts but I interrupt him because I'm too tired for his issues now. "No! Get up and get in the fucking van!" I order and he obliges surprisingly fast. He gets up, stumbles and falls right into my arms. "Do I really have to help you walk?" I question Frank annoyed while I adjust our positions, put my arm around him and start walking him to the van anyway. Frank looks like shit. His nose is bleeding, his arms and his face are plastered with bruises and his jeans is ripped. Also his clothes look like he bathed in dirt. As we finally manage to enter the van, Frank and I just slump onto the seats, exhausted. Though Frank is probably more exhausted than I am. "Frank you look horrible." Bob speaks out what we all are thinking. Probably. Frank giggles in response. "How the fuck can you laugh at that?" I ask him annoyed. Frank just shrugs and the others look at me like I'm about to kill Frank. Which, indeed, seems like a good option at the moment. We drove the way to the hotel in silence. After a thirty minute drive we finally arrive in front of the hotel. Being the exhausted people we are at the moment we couldn't get our stuff out of the van fast enough to check into the hotel and get some sleep. While Ray and Bob were talking to the lady at the reception to get our rooms, Frank, Mikey and I stayed in the hotel's lobby. I am still mad at Frank for getting into a fight again. Just like last night. And the night before. He really needs to control his temper. "Finally." Mikey says somewhat cheerfully as Ray and Bob finally return to us. "Okay we've got three rooms." Bob explains. "Gerard and Frank, you two share a room with each other. Mikey and I share one with each other and Bob gets his own." Ray adds. "No." I contradict "I don't want to share a room with Frank! No way!" "Well but you have to." Mikey smiles to which I just shoot him a glare. "Why do I have to share a room with Frank? Why not Bob or Ray or you?" I ask my brother hecticly. "Because of reasons." Mikey exclaims slightly annoyed. I let out an annoyed sigh, take the room's keys out of Ray's hand and dart up the stairs, wanting to avoid as much socializing as possible. About five minutes after me, Frank enters the room too. "I sleep on the couch." I tell him without turning around to look at him. "Why? The bed is big enough for two." Frank says sheepishly. I slowly turn around and look Frank straight in the eyes. He looks nervous. As I take a few steps towards him I notice him shifting his weight from one foot to the other, obviously nervous. "I don't even want to share the room with you. What gives you the idea that I would share a fucking bed with you?" I question him angrily. "What is your fucking problem, Gerard?" Frank groans, audibly angry himself. "You are my freaking problem!" I yell at him. "What did I do?" he asks in a calm but still slightly angry sounding voice. "Did you seriously just ask that question? Are you serious?" I scoff to which he nods in response. "You got into a fight again. Three fucking nights in a row and it's just getting on my nerves! You get on my nerves. I can't stand your aggressions and I hate it when you get into fights! Why do you give a fuck about those assholes every single night?" I explain and cross my arms in front of my chest as I wait for an answer. "He insulted you." Frank confesses, letting his gaze drop to the ground. "So what?" I continue "First of all it's none of your business and second I didn't give a flying fuck about what any of these people said so why did you?" I ask him somewhat desperate. I just want this tension I feel to end. I mean it's really sorta cute of him to want to protect me but it's getting too much. Frank doesn't answer, instead he keeps staring at the ground. "Answer me. Why do you always get into fights?" I insist but he just shrugs. "Did you ever even second guess your decisions to beat those people up before you did so?" I ask him. He shakes his head. "Well if you had you could have thought about your actions giving the band a bad reputation and you..." "A bad reputation?" Frank interrupts me angrily "I am giving the band a bad reputation?" he repeats, his voice as hateful as it could possibly be. "I didn't finish my..." "Do you think your drug addiction gives our band a better reputation?" he cuts me off. "N-no" I stutter slightly scared of Frank's sudden freak-out. "Yeah because it is just as fucking bad as me fighting. Do you know the difference though?" he asks viciously. I shake my head. "The difference is that you chose your fucking addiction. I am not to blame for my temper issue." he explains. I duck my head in order to hide the tears that are now welling up in my eyes. He's right. My addiction is my own fault. I am the one to blame. "Don't you have anything to say about it anymore?" Frank hisses. "You didn't let me finish. That wasn't my point. It wasn't what I meant." I mention sadly. "What do you mean?" Frank asks, suddenly calm and perceptively. "Every time you get into a fight...it annoys the others and it annoys me. I don't want to have to play your fucking babysitter every damn night and it sucks seeing you get hurt all the time it's like we're back in Highschool where we would get shit for everything we are and I think you agree that these were our worst fucking years." I explain sadly before I grab my stuff, which I didn't unpack yet. "I don't wanna be with you right now." is the last thing I say. And just like that I leave the room and Frank standing in the middle of it.

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