Gerard
I opened the IM, putting in my message to the new number, always a new number, changed every two weeks. I was always user 456 though, and he was 937.

456: where can i meet u, i need another pound or two

937: why so eager?
u still want to get in my pants, dont u

I stopped at that.

456: I’ve got it once, i dont need that, just the drugs

I could just imagine him rolling his eyes at the text.

456: plz, meet me today

937: its gonna be xtra, twice this week, but i bet u dont have the cash…

456: i only have enough for a pound

937: yes, but i raised the price, upped it by 18%

Shit.

456: cmon man, i need it, plz
ill do anything

937: anything??? -_,-

Scared as i was, I needed it.

456: anything.

937: fine. meet me under the GG brige @ 5

He logged out after that.

God, last time I agreed to that, was when I was broke, like no money, but I was dying from the lack. I sighed and stood up from my desk. I crossed the small space of my apartment to to the living room. I fell on the couch -which was also my bed- and pulled the blankets up to my chin. I cried, letting all my regrets and worries fall with my tears.

Two hours later and I was on the public bus, only two stops away from going to Hell. What’s wrong with me, all this for just a few more smacks. I should just die and leave my pathetic life behind. I sighed from my putrid thoughts and leaned against the tram wall.
“Golden Gate Bridge.” The tram stopped and I pushed myself up off the wall and onto the pavement, standing before the giant bridge. Our favorite meeting place. Of course, our first, our last. I made sure no one was looking and crossed the small road and down under the bridge.
“Bert, where are you?” I loudly whispered, still paranoid. He’s just going to be an ass and jump out at me. I rolled my eyes at the thought but kept looking around. I then looked near the end of the dirt way.
“Hey Gee.” He stood up from the spot he was waiting and crossed over to me. He pulled me closer to him, but I stepped away.
I’m just here for the drugs. Nothing else.” He sighed.
“Gerard, when will you learn?” I glared at him. “Besides, it’s not me this time.” He winked at me and I faltered. What? Not him, what does that mean? I crossed my arms to my chest, waiting for an explanation. “I have someone I want you to meet.” He walked away, but I stayed, confused about everything.
“Gerard.” Bert sang my name in a very off-tuned sing-song voice, but I strayed from my spot to follow him to God knows where. He took me to a spot further from the street, under the bridge. “Drumroll please!” Bert joked before opening the small passage that led to an abandoned mine. I crawled after him through the old tires and jumped, not caring for the five steps.
“Two-oh-three!” He grinned as the door closed and I jumped at the loud noise. The smell was awful- different kind of drugs lined the endless shelves, the aroma murdering my nostrils. I turned my head in the direction of footsteps. The footsteps were light and nervous, a girl that sold her soul to the devil, AKA Bert. But, oh, was I mistaken.
“Hi.” My gaze was huge as I saw the person standing there. Bert walked over to the trembling body.
“Gerard, this is Frank. Frank, Gerard.” Frank’s blush was only amplified by the horrible lighting in the old mine.
“H-hi.” He was so amazing. His hair was a mohawk, bleached at the sides, his dirty black converse, an oversized black tshirt, and very fitting jeans. Wow, he was breathtaking. So this is what Bert meant by ‘it wasn’t him this time’.

Shit.

Notes

so thats the first chapt to this one. i know ive been making alot of fics lately, and haven't really been updating my others, but ive had no ideas on wehre to go on most of them, so sorry if im pissing you off! |?