(Grace’s POV)

I sat in the kitchen quietly as the kettle boiled on the stove. “What do you wanna do for dinner?” My brother, Van, asked as he walked in. I shrugged but didn’t respond. “C’mon, girlish. I know you hate this town, but it’s still better than being cooped up in dad’s apartment, right? Maybe Gerard and the gang are still here, too.” I nodded and got up to pour the water for my tea. He sat down and I promised myself to just shut up, but it kept itching at the back of my mind, “Although... Remember… He was always talking about how when he got old enough he was gonna leave this little town and take Mikey with him? Well… What if he already left?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I mean. Uh, you guys are still only 17 and Mikey is only 15 so maybe he’s still here. And either way, Iero and Toro would still be here, right?” I stirred my tea, “Maybe.”
My mom was in a car wreck when I was 10 and Van was 13, so our absolute joy of a father decided to move us to a tiny, dingy apartment in the big city. When Van turned 20, he finally saved up enough money to buy a car so he got a job in Monroeville, the “kind-of-small-but-not-really” town we grew up in. He bit his nails, “I can’t believe I have to get up early tomorrow… You go from being a kid with no responsibilities and no time to an adult with a ton of responsibilities and no time. I hate everything.” I patted his back, “I know. If only we were cavemen.” His eyes widened and he tried not to laugh, “Exactly! Someone who understands!” He hugged me and I hit his arm. “Dummy… At least you don’t have to wear a school uniform…” I mumbled. He giggled and looked back up at me. “True. Oh yeah, and will you help me dye my hair tonight? If I show up at work tomorrow with it natural and come the next day with it different, they’ll know I dyed it and it’ll be weird.” I nodded as he rustled through a grocery bag. “What color were you planning on dying it?” I asked, looking over his shoulder. He giggled a little, “Black, of course.”
We sat in the bathroom as I rubbed the black into his naturally blond hair and he ranted about his all-time favorite show, Psych. “I mean, he just makes such witty comments, I love it. And… And… And…” I eventually tuned him out. We were just sitting while the dye seeped into his hair and the doorbell rang. “Did you really order pizza?” I asked. He smiled mischievously, “Well you never told me what you wanted for dinner.” He got up and I followed him to the door, grumbling, “It better be Hawaiian.” He opened the door and a guy about my age with messy black hair held a pizza. “Hi, uh order for… Chester Wentworth?” He said, slightly confused. Van smiled and took the pizza, “Yup, that’s me.” I don’t know why he insists on always using a fake name. He even gave me one. Jane Greyson. The boy looked up and his hazel eyes widened when he saw me.
Wait… Gee?

Notes

woo little skiddly bop. I know it's really short but I don't have much time, ok?!?!?!?!!!!?!?!/111/?!?

sorry I got excited