A teen, about my age(15), approaches me quietly. I raise a brow and notice as he nears closer and closer. He was athletic, as by the thickness of his shoulders, and had carefree blonde hair with a long fringe covering his right eye. The teen mutters words under his breath, but I can't hear the first couple sentences, until he amplifies his voice a tad bit more.

"What're you doing here?" His voice is dark and tang, and it frightens me when he pronounced 'you' with extreme emphasis.

"Rejecting society," I answer with a smirk. "And yourself?"

"Seems like we already have something in common."

I nod. "You got a name?"

"Bob Bryar," he reached his hand out.

I shook it with pride. "Gerard, Gerard Way."

Bob was surprisingly pleased. " I like you, Way."

"I can say the same about you."

"So," he changed the subject. "You said you were rejecting society, just like I am?"

"Verbatim, yes."

He smirked. "Well, we're not alone."

Notes

new chapter c: