I slid my books into my locker and pushed the door closed, resting my forehead against it as I fought back a yawn. I arched my arms above my head, cringing as my back cracked, before picking up my bag and slinging the strap over my shoulder. "Frankie." I smiled as he stopped in front of me, his folders clutched in his hands, a smile gracing his lips.
"Gee." He whispered, his eyebrow raised.
"I wanna finish what we started earlier." I smirked.
"Later." He chuckled as he grabbed my hand and we walked to the cafeteria together.

Kids threw things at us as we walked past them, voices yelling faggot as we queued up. I felt my hands start to shake, the anger filling my bones as I saw Frank's face drop. Mikey ran up to us, his breathing heavy as he queued with us. "What the fuck are they yelling at?" He asked, his eyes filled with worry when he saw how close to tears Frank was.
"Hold my bag." I muttered low enough for Mikey to hear. I turned to Frank. "Do you trust me?" I asked, my eyebrow raised as I waited for an answer.
"Yeah." He replied. "Why?"
"It doesn't matter, that was all I needed to hear." I muttered before kissing him on the cheek.

"'Scuse me." I said to the person closest, climbing on the chair next to them until I was standing on the table. "Whoever the fuck it is in here that has an issue with me holding another guy's hand needs to stand the fuck up and say it to my face. There is nothing wrong with liking another guy, not when it is someone as amazing as Frank. If you guys don't like it, then fuck you. Maybe you belong back in the nineteenth century, not twenty-fucking-fourteen." I snapped, staring down anyone who dared to meet my eye. "If you hadn't have worked out yet, it is perfectly all right for a guy to love a guy or a girl to love a girl or for someone to feel more comfortable dressing as the other gender. If you are that fucking low that you can't accept that, then maybe you don't belong in a civilized society."

I took a breath as I stepped down from the table, my hand reaching for Frank's and tugging him closer to me. "See, they are just idiots." I muttered into his ear as a slow round of applause filled the canteen.
"Whoooo, go Gerard!" Someone called, catcalling as I wrapped my arm tighter around Frank. I pressed my lips to his forehead, my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.
"You mean the world to me hun." I mutttered.

---

I slid into my chair at the back of the classroom and pulled out my lyrics binder, hoping having it in front of me was enough to show the teacher I was working. Frank and Mikey slid next to me, their respective instruments clutched in their hands. "Help." Mikey muttered.
"What?" I asked as I flipped to a blank page.
"We gotta perform something next week." He hissed.
"So?" I asked. "How does that affect me?"
"Sir wants you to sing." Frank replied.

My jaw dropped. "That's not fucking happening!" I almost yelled. "Why the hell does he think I'll sing in front of them all?" I hissed, my hands flying over the words on the page.
"I have no idea. He said you had to or you would fail the class." Mikey muttered, a frown on his lips.
"Shit." I muttered, my head dropping until my forehead hit the table.

"Micheal, Gerard, can I talk to you outside for a minute please?" The teacher asked, his voice low and filled with worry. I hesitated before nodding, climbing to my feet and waiting for Mikey to follow me. "So, the principal just sent me an email saying I needed to ask you how things were at home. I don't know why, so..uh... how are things at home?"
"They're good." Mikey replied, his eyes on me as my face grew pale.
"Gerard?" Sir asked.
"Sorry, feel a little sick but yeah, things are good, getting better I guess." I replied as I leant against the wall.
"Okay, well, give yourselves a minute before you come back inside, Gerard, go and get a drink or something." I nodded and sank to the floor, placing my arms across my knees and resting my forehead on my forearms.

"Gerard?" Mikey asked, his voice filled with worry. "Gee, what's wrong?"
"Somethings wrong." I muttered before I climbed to my feet and started running down the corridor. "Tell sir I had to go home, get my bag, tell Frank I'll call him." I yelled before I rounded the corner and left the building.

---

I sprinted down the street, skidding up the drive and barreling through the front door. "Dad?" I called. "Mom? You here?"
"Yes Gerard, what's wrong honey?" My mom asked, poking her head around the door from the living room.
"Somethings wrong. Where's dad?" I rushed. "Where is he?" I repeated when mom looked at me blank.
"I think he went into the garden, why Gerard?"
"Nothing." I muttered as I ran into the garden.

"Dad!" I yelled as I came to the old tree, my breathing coming in gasps as I grabbed hold of the rungs to the ladder, pulling myself up and poking my head through the hole in the bottom of the tree house. "Dad...." I muttered as I set eyes on his immobile form on the floor, goosepimples standing out on his pale skin. "Oh fuck dad, what the hell have you done?" I pulled myself the rest of the way into the tree house and slid across the floor until I was sat next to him, my hand searching for a pulse. "Come on." I muttered, my heart thumping as I found one, the weak flutter against my finger telling me something was wrong.

"Gerard, what's going on up there?" My mom called from the bottom of the ladder.
"Call an ambulance." I replied. "Tell them that dad has passed out. He has a pulse, it's just weak."
"Tell me what happened Gerard!" She ordered.
"Just call an ambulance mom, something could be really wrong!" I snapped, biting my tongue before I said anything else.

I slid to the ground as they strapped my dad to the gurney, my breathing heavy, my heart thumping against my chest. Mom had called the school and had Mikey excused. He was stood next to me, confusion etched on his features. When my mom went back inside, Mikey grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the tree house, dropping to the floor before opening his mouth to speak. "How did you know?" He asked me.
"I don't know. I just had this really horrible feeling that something was wrong and when I got home and saw that mom was safe, I knew it was dad." I paused, flicking some dust off my pants leg. "I have no idea what would have happened if I hadn't turned up though."
"He would have been fine Gee. Mom would have come to check on him and she would have seen what had happened."

---

I curled up on my bed, a pillow squashed between my arms, my breathing heavy. Mikey paced my room, his hands folded behind his back. He didn't want to leave me since I passed out. He told me he was scared that something deeper was going on.

My phone rang against my dresser and Mikey picked it up, holding it against his ear. "Hi. Uh, no it's Mikey. Because he passed out. No, look, I don't think that's such a good idea." He paused, chewing on his bottom lip. "No, he's fine, I promise, he just needs sleep. Frank, just listen to me goddamnit!" He almost yelled. "Just wait until tomorrow, I promise he'll be coming to school, you can see him then." Mikey pulled my phone away from his ear and hung up the call, dropping it onto my dresser.

"Sorry." He muttered, looking at me apologetically. "If you wanna see him, I can call him back for ya, tell him to come over." I shook my head, my eyelids heavy.
"I just wanna sleep forever." I whispered, my head aching from the small movement.
"Well, sleep. I'll come wake you up later and make sure everything is okay. After that, well, it's up to you really." Mikey muttered before closing my bedroom door behind me.

Notes

Sorry it's short, I started getting really tired and thought I should stop writing...


Since when has the site done autofill on the titles and the descriptions??