You're So Dark

“You kind of look like Frankenstein,” Gerard huffed when he got into the shotgun seat of Ryan’s car.

“Thank you, Gerard. See, Brendon, I do look like Frankenstein. I don’t have to go round telling people I’m Sally.” Ryan smiled at Gerard gratefully, who smiled back politely, even though it looked like a grimace more than anything else.

“He’s totally Sally, don’t rain on my parade, both of you,” Brendon scolded them.

Gerard rolled his eyes, but he said nothing as Ryan and Brendon continued arguing. It was a nice background noise for his overly loud thoughts, ha, how convenient. He just wanted to shove himself inside a hole and die. Like, forever.

“So, Gerard, you in?” Ryan smirked.

“Yeah,” Gerard said absent-mindedly, not even caring about what they were saying. He was too busy thinking of the least painful methods of suicide.
“Here we are,” Ryan said before he pulled the car over. Gerard opened the door and was about to run off in another direction, but nah. Brendon caught him by his sleeve and pulled him back.

“Nuh uh,” he scolded, “let’s go.”

“I hate you and I hope you die,” Gerard huffed. Ryan snickered and elbowed him in the side.

“One day, you’ll be sorry for saying that.”

“Never,” Gerard glared at him and proceeded into the building. Gerard dragged the climbing on and on and on and on until Ryan and Brendon lost their shit and just pulled him upstairs. They rang the doorbell, just to be faced by a really disoriented looking Joker.

“Hey, guys,” the Joker grinned and Gerard realized it was Ray. He greeted all three of them and led them inside. The place was really nice, like you’d see in those movies about single guys living in apartments by themselves, only this one was kind of decorated with a lot of shit which included skulls and pumpkins. At least they aren’t smashed; Gerard thought to himself and snickered quietly at how lame that fucking joke was. He already felt high of all the smoke; even though he was sure only about thirty percent of it came from pot. Not that he cared, he liked it, and he hoped he wouldn’t come home sober that night. His eyes immediately started searching for Mr. Iero’s small figure lurking around, probably hid under some really lame Batman or Frankenstein costume[it was his name, fuck him], but all he saw were really non-legit cat woman and Morticia Addams costumes – he felt like he arrived to a hillbilly comic con.

Suddenly, a cup of something that suspiciously looked like transparent vomit appeared in his hand, and he decided not to question it – whoever the person was, probably wanted him good. Not really. Especially not if it were Ryan and Brendon. Those two probably already found Ray’s bedroom and were destroying his sheets with their body fluids. Gerard almost choked on the disgusting alcohol-and-sugar-filled liquid as soon as that thought reached his brain. Wow, Gerard, wow. You keep up like that and you’ll end up in therapy for PTSD in no time.

“Gee,” Brendon suddenly pulled his sleeve again. “You alive?”

“Yeah, “ Gerard sighed and looked inside his now empty cup. “Only I think I’ll need more of this.”

“Come with me,” Brendon nudged him over to the kitchen counter and poured him another glass. “That shit tastes like gin and gummybears mixed together.”

“I know, it’s disgusting.” Gerard said and downed the cup.

“Why are you drinking it then?” Brendon looked puzzled.

“Because I mainly came here to get wasted, and this shit is like seventy-five percent alcohol,” Gerard sighed.

“Idiot,” Brendon rolled his eyes. Gerard eyed the room reluctantly, his eyes landing on a distinct figure in the background. Fucking hell, someone had come as the Crimson Ghost. Whoever that fucking person was, Gerard already loved them. Like, unconditionally. The only people with good costumes here besides Ray, Ryan and Brendon; and now this guy/girl was some chick in a frickin’ killer Harleyquinn outfit and some dude dressed as what looked like some really disturbing version of Slenderman. Gerard was digging him anyway, he looked kind of cool.

Ray came up to them eventually, asking Brendon where Ryan was to which he replied with ‘lubing up for me’ which was way too much information for both Ray and Gerard. At some point Ray and Brendon started talking in really hushed voices so Gerard couldn’t hear shit, which resulted in him downing another cup of that sweet shit which really did start to taste like vomit later on. Or that was just Gerard throwing up in his mouth then swallowing. Anyway.

“Come here,” Brendon said and pulled him towards the hallway. Gerard looked at him questioningly. “I need to piss.”

“You’re such a girl,” Gerard snickered, almost totally wasted, but he followed Brendon to the bathroom anyway. Along the way, Gerard saw Ray talking to the Crimson Ghost guy and pulling him to this room and closing the door, but Gerard was already too drunk to care. He still hadn’t seen Mr. Iero and that was kind of worrying him because fuck, it was practically his party. He was the host, beside Ray. Darn, was he that big of a dork to bail? Gerard wouldn’t have blamed him if he was. He was pretty sure he would’ve been the same amount of helplessly in love with him even if he was the dorkiest dork on the planet. Which he probably was.

“Hey Bren-“ he was kind of cut off by Bren shoving his back towards the end of the hallway and he was too drunk to fight back so he practically let Brendon push him towards the room Ray shoved the Crimson Ghost guy in, opened the door and yanked Gerard in. Gerard heard the lock click as he was turning around, his brow furrowed in confusion as he was looking around the room. The Ghost guy was sitting on the bed, his mask pulled a bit up, only to reveal his lips and jaw. Gerard could swear he knew who this person was, but he couldn’t put his finger on it, his vision was kind of blurry and everything was spinning around. The guy had nice lips though. Gerard could’ve used a distraction. Really. Could’ve.

*

‘Please reply to this mikes. Please.’ was the text of another one of Pete’s messages. Mikey had no idea what to do, he was weighing the options inside his head but he still couldn’t have made his mind, even though he really wanted to make up with Pete. He didn’t know, though, something was really holding him back and he felt endlessly desperate because Gerard was on that stupid party and not here helping his little brother in need. It was selfish, but Mikey didn’t care, he just wanted to get this off his back. Just to make some sort of decision. And possibly the right one. Then he remembered that the only person he could call now, and they would help him, was actually available all the time he’d spent grieving over his brother’s absence. Fucking hell, he could’ve thought of this earlier. But nah, Mikey was an idiot.

‘I need ur help. Urgently. -mikey’
Patrick replied almost instantly.

‘At your service, Master. *bows*’

‘Pete has been texing me constantly and praying for me to get back to him but idk what to do’

‘Do you care for Pete?’

‘OFC I DO! Fuck man’

‘Then I think you’ve both suffered enough. I think you should call him.’

Mikey sighed. Of course he was going to say that.

‘Ill try. Thanks pat’

‘You’re welcome. Good luck. X’

Mikey spent three minutes prepping with breathing exercises and then he just said fuck it and dialed Pete’s phone number. It rang exactly two and a half times until Pete’s voice answered.

“Mikey,” he said in a small voice.

“Pete,” Mikey sighed.

“I miss you,” Pete’s voice sounded like he was confessing some really great fact. Of fucking course.

“Are you trying to suck up on me with blink-182 again or you legit miss me?”

“What would be more effective?” Pete said quietly and Mikey could hear the small smirk in his voice.

“You can come over if you want,” Mikey offered.

“Good. I need to talk to you,” Pete said and hung up before Mikey could add anything else. He slumped back on his bed, sighing loudly and preparing himself for a lot of emotional exhaustion. Like he wasn’t exhausted enough already.

*

“Hey,” Gerard said in the most seductive tone he could pull, making the Ghost guy look at him. He loved this feeling of pure indifference, he could literally do or say anything without being awkward as fuck and he adored it. The vomit shit was responsible for that, kudos to the vomit shit.

“Hello,” the Ghost guy smirked, and Gerard could swear he knew that voice from somewhere, that deep, slightly buzzing voice which immediately gave him shivers and- “This party sucks.”

“Yeah,” Gerard giggled.

“If it was my call, I’d simply lie around and have some shit candy and maybe watch a few horror movies. But nah. I have to attend a party. It’s my birthday, y’know.”

“Oh, happy birthday," Gerard smiled. "And yeah, sucks man. Same, actually, my friends dragged me here without even asking me if I wanted to go,” Gerard smiled.

“Thanks. And yeah, sucks,” he bit his lip and traced his eyes all over Gerard. “I love your outfit, by the way.”

“I love yours, too,” Gerard sheepishly smiled and walked over to the bed. He felt really confident for once in his life, even though the guy seemed really hot and stuff. Gerard pushed his self-consciousness aside and let the alcohol do the magic. “Even though… I bet it would be better if you just… took it off?”

Gerard somehow had that pinch of doubt that the guy would go all ‘fucking fag’ on him and like make one of those disgusted faces but that doubt kind of disappeared when the Ghost guy kissed him, roughly and hungrily and Gerard now seriously felt like he was in paradise. His lips were so soft and sweet and they tasted like whiskey and Gerard was totally digging that and he wasn’t even that heavy on his hips even though he was grinding on Gerard quite forcefully. It was one of those sensations that made Gerard want to poke his eyeballs out but in the best possible way ever and he knew he could probably do this for the rest of eternity when the Ghost guy shoved his tongue inside Gerard’s mouth.

The guy must’ve been stoned to death because Gerard’s tongue was almost tingling from all the pot flavor he’d tasted but he loved it endlessly. His hands were roaming around the guy’s torso and finally settled onto his neck when he flipped them over, the Ghost guy’s fingers entwining inside Gerard’s hair and gently pulling at the strands and making Gerard go all fuzzy and insane. When Gerard bit his lower lip the guy moaned so whorishly Gerard wanted to rip all his clothes off this instant. He moved down towards his neck and bit and sucked and all the other shenanigans the guy seemed to have adored. He had this tattoo there, Gerard couldn’t tell what it was because he was too distracted and drunk to care but he realized it was some kind of bug. The sounds the guy produced were something Gerard was guessing Glenn Danzig’s vocal cords were made of. He didn’t care about the fact he was probably in his twenties and what they were doing could’ve easily been completely illegal but hey, he was over the illegal shit moral questioning – he was into his Lit teacher.

Just as the thought of Mr. Iero crossed his mind the door of the room frantically opened and Brendon’s voice faintly called his name. He wanted to punch him, he really did, it was the worst possible moment for him to walk in on him.

“Gee, Ryan is dead drunk and we have to get him home,” Brendon pulled him off the Ghost guy.

“Ugh, okay, okay, can you drive?” Gerard sighed and shot an apologizing look towards the Ghost guy, who just smiled. Brendon nodded and Gerard went to follow him out of the room, waving sadly at his hookup.

“Can I at least get your name?” The Ghost guy shouted when Gerard got into the hallway.

Gerard yelled an ‘It’s Gerard!’ but at that moment someone screamed so loudly beside him that the Ghost guy couldn’t have caught it even if he had the best hearing ever. Gerard was about to yell it again, but Brendon pulled him out of the apartment before he managed to. He dragged Gerard to the car despite Gerard’s constant bitching about how he just ruined his life. Brendon ignored him and practically threw him over Ryan who was slumped over at the back seat, groaning loudly about something involving stomach cramps and chipmunks.

Brendon dropped Gerard off at his house and helped him get inside. Then they both heard a barfing sound and he ran back to the car, leaving Gerard to climb downstairs to his room with great difficulties. He heard noises from upstairs but he didn’t question it because he was way too drunk and disappointed to care. He plopped onto his bed and fell asleep instantly, thinking about how soft the Ghost guy’s lips were and how good of a distraction off that damn Mr. Iero that guy was. Sucks that he was probably never going to see him again. Really sucks.

*

Frank was lying face-down on his bed, thinking of methods he could forgive himself for forgetting to put his contact lenses on tonight. Seriously, dude, this was the worst time he could’ve done that. And he didn’t even catch the name. Damn.

He chucked his Crimson Ghost mask to the side and rolled over under the covers, trying to summon sleep over while hangover still wasn’t kicking in. His neck was throbbing but he didn’t care, it was worth it. The shit would’ve healed after a few days, but he could always try and find the guy who was responsible for it. Yeah, he thought to himself, I wish.

Notes

Well
Wow
I suck