The Way I See It (Frerard)

Days passed by, weeks, nearly a month has come and gone, but Frank hasn't. Frank's amazing, he really is. I've gotten to know him pretty well, and I can't find a single thing wrong with him. One thing that I know for sure, he's talented. He's been playing guitar since he was five. No, I haven't actually heard it, but I can assume that he's great at it. He says his dad taught him how, his dad must be patient to teach a blind person to play an instrument. Or maybe I only just think that because my own father didn't even have the patience to stay with us. But either way, Frank plays guitar and that's something pretty special. He says he'll play some music for me today, and I'm really excited. I cleaned up basically my entire house so that he doesn't trip and potentially injure himself while walking. I made sure that Mikey wasn't going to be home either, just so that he can't start up any fights with me. I just hope all goes well.
I listen to my music for about an hour, my stomach flipping and filling with butterflies as I think of what it'll be like to hear Frank play guitar for the first time. I'm sure it'll be beautiful, just like he is. Yeah, I gotta say now, Frank's kinda grown on me more than I though he would. I've developed a bit of a crush on him. But y'know what? It's actually more of a stagnant crush, to be honest. One where you feel it, but you know that they wont feel it back. It sucks, but I'll cope, as long as I can stay friends with him. I hear the knock at my door and I run down the stairs more enthusiastically than I probably should have. I grin wide as I open the door, the grin growing as I see Frank. "Hey Frankie!" I say happily. Frank smiles and waves nervously. "Hey Gerard," he replies. Is it just me or does he look almost as nervous as I feel? I say nothing, but I gently grab his wrist, leading him inside. "My... room is upstairs. Is that okay?" I asked. He nodded and I smiled in relief. "Great, let's go." I say.
I lead Frank to my bedroom, closing the door. Honestly, I'm glad Frank can't see me right now, I can feel my face heat up, and I'm sure that my face is beet red. Frank grins, aimlessly turning his head from side to side. "Black Sabbath?" He asks at the sound of my music. "Exactly!" I say, smiling. I look around my room, honestly not sure what to say next. Normally one of us is a motor mouth and the other can't shut them up. "So... do you want me to play something now, or do we wait?" He asks. I'm not sure. I know he said that he'd need to borrow my guitar, and I'm not sure how messy my closet is, so if I open it and everything falls out, how embarrassing would that be? But then again, I'll have to open it some time, and I'm really excited to hear him. "We can now, I guess," I say. He nods then frowns. "Is there a place for me to sit?" He asks.
I lead him to my bed and he sits. I go to the other side of my room. I turn of my music, resisting the urge to apologize to my cd for rudely interrupting them like I normally do. I head to my closet, gripping the handle. I slowly open it, then open all the way, relieved that it wasn't a giant mess. I grab out my guitar and bring it to Frank. "Here you go," I say, setting it on his lap. He smiles and brings it closer. "Thank you. So uh, what do you want me to play? I know a ton of songs," he says. I shrug and sit beside him. "Whatever you know how to play the best," I reply.
With that, he started to strum. He played the beginning to a song that I knew well. It's a song by Green Day called Good Riddance. It's a very good song, and I'm glad he chose this one. His skill is great, the music is beautiful, but if that wasn't good enough, he started singing. "Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road... time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go... So make the best of this task and don't ask why... It's not a question but a lesson learned in time... It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right, I hope you had the time of your life..." As he sings, I actually feel tears in my eyes, which is embarrassing and another reason I'm happy Frank can't see me. As I listen to him, I wonder what it's like to be in his position, to never be able to see anything. I think about this often, but it always makes me wonder how he keeps himself so happy without ever seeing a smile or a sunset, or even a rainbow. He's so strong, braver than I could ever be, I've come to admire him. I'm lucky I've found Frank, I really need him.
Soon enough, the song is over. I stare at him, a smirk growing on my face as I started to chuckle. "Frank... that's great! You're awesome!" I tell him. He smiles shyly, his face turning a slight shade of red. "Thank you... but I'm really not." He whispered. I sit closer beside him and grab one of his shoulders, staring directly at him. "Frank you are, stop trying to tell yourself that you aren't. If you wont let me feel bad about myself, I'm not gonna let you!" I say. He bites his lip and smirks, his face turning a darker red. "I-I'm not though..." he says. I shake my head and fully grab both of his shoulders now. "You are Frankie, stop it!" I say. I know, I sound really sappy, but I don't care.
Frank starts to pull away from me, and I start to panic. He wants to leave. What can I do about it? I can't make him stay, that's rude, but I don't want to let him go. My mind starts to make me believe that I was being too persistent and it scared him away. What can I do but let him go? If he wants to go away, who am I to stop him? I don't have the right. I feel tears start to form in my eyes. "I'm sorry Frank...." I say, my voice quavering. I move my hands away from him, and he lifts a hand and reaches out. He searches around for a moment, then stops on my face. "Gerard... I honestly don't know why you'd think about me like that, but I really appreciate it." He says.
I can feel my face heat up as he sits even closer than he was before. I can't speak, what would I say to him? He leans in close and soon, our faces are so close, our lips are nearly brushing. "Am I even close to you, Gerard?" He asks, his voice no higher than a whisper. I don't respond, not with words. Instead, I lean in, closing the gap between us. He tenses up from the sudden contact, but relaxes as he wraps his arms around my neck. My heart pounds in my chest, and I think he might be able to hear it. I place my hand on the side of his face, leaning in closer and deepening the kiss. He breaths in deeply and snakes his tongue across my bottom lip. My eyes widen at the sudden contact. I pull away suddenly, he quickly removes himself from me, stumbling to his feet.
"I-I'm so sorry Gerard! I'm sorry!" He gasps. He continues to move back, and I watch in frozen fear as he trips over my guitar, landing on the floor, smacking his head against my dresser. "Frank!" I cry out. I rush to his side, quickly helping him to his feet. "Frank, I'm so sorry, I should have warned you. Shit, are you okay?" I ask, alarmed. He nods, tears dripping from his eyelashes silently. He says he's fine, but I don't think I believe him. You can clearly see red liquid slowly coming from the bleached part of his hair. "I'm sorry Gerard..." He whispered. I honestly have no idea why he would be apologizing to me.
I grab Frank's wrist, gently dragging him to the bathroom. I let go of his arm to get a wash cloth dampened. "Gerard... what's going on? Where are we now?" He asks, fear filling his voice. I try to remain calm as I say, "You hit your head pretty hard, you're bleeding a little, but I promis you'll be okay, it's not too bad." Frank whimpers and slowly reaches his hand up to the back of his head. I watch as he gently touches his new wound, wincing from the pain.
Once I have the cloth ready, I carefully dab it on his head. "I'm really sorry Frankie." I say. He shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have done that. I didn't know that you were, y'know... straight. I shouldn't have just kissed you like that." he tells me. I freeze and stare at the back of his head. He thinks that I'm straight? I bite my lip hard, trying to think of what to say to him. "Uh... Frankie, I'm not straight, not at all..." I say quietly, continuing to clean his head until I couldn't see blood anymore.
He turns around, a confused look on his face. "You are? Then... why didn't you want me to kiss you? Do you... do you not like me or something?" He asks, slightly offended. My eyes widen quickly. "Oh no! I do like you, a-a lot. That was just, well it was my first kiss and I didn't really know what to do! I didn't want to mess it up and make you not like me," I explain. There's a small moment of silence, then Frank giggles. "Gee, you really think I wont like you because of how you kiss?" He asks, clearly holding back more giggles.
My face heats up and I look at the floor. "Maybe... yeah..." I mumble. He giggles and wrapps his arms around me. "You're adorable. I wouldn't do that! That's silly! Gee, I'd still love you even if you were the worst kisser on earth!" He says. I smile in relief, but then his words register in my mind. "Wait... you... love me?" I ask. He blinks, then nods. "Yeah! I mean, it might be a little quick, but I know you're an amazing person, Gerard!" He says. He hugs me tight and I can't help but hug back. Finally, for the first time in my life, not only have I found a friend, but someone loves me.
Frank sighs happily, then says, "Y'know what, Gee? I like that you weigh more. You're more fun to hug that way!" I feel like crying, no one has ever said anything positive about my weight before. We go back to my room, Frank plays more songs, and we kiss... a lot. But soon enough, it starts to get late and Frank's dad will be here to pick him up. We're listing to music on the couch in the living room. "Gerard... this is the most fun I've ever had. Thank you." Frank mumbles. I grin and kiss his nose. "I have to thank you too Frankie. I never thought I'd get to have a day like this." I tell him. He curls into me, laying his head on my chest.
"Gee, can I ask you a question?" He asks. I sit up a bit and grab his hand. "Yeah, go ahead," I say. He bites his lip, then says, "How did you tell you family that you're gay?" He asks quietly. I think about this for a moment. "Actually, I didn't. They just sort of knew, " I say. He nods, sighing. "I really think that I should tell my dad about it. He deserves to know. It's not fair that I'm keeping something from him." He says softly.
Frank sits all the way up, now looking upset. "I-I just don't want him to hate me," he whispers. I frown and sit up with him. "He wont hate you Frank. Maybe it'll take some time for him to get used to it, but I'm sure he'll adjust. He wouldn't hate you," I say, cupping his cheek with my hand. He nods, leaning into my hand, nuzzling it with his nose. "You don't know my dad. He's very closed-minded, and he kind of... he hates gay people. He hates them so much, he doesn't consider us human. I want him to accept me," he explains, tears filling his eyes.
Before I can say anymore, there's a knock at the door. Frank pulls away from me, wiping his eyes. "That's my dad," he says. He gets off the couch and I lead him to the door. I open it and a mand stands ahead of us. He looks a lot like Frank, except a lot more hostile looking. "So you're Gerard, huh? Frank's told me a lot about you," he says. I smile nervously and nod. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Iero," I say, my voice higher than I should have liked.
His dad said nothing more, just grabbed Frank by the arm and started to pull him away. "Uh, by Gerard, I'll see you on Monday," Frank says. I smile a little more. "Good night Frank, Mr. Iero," I call out. Frank's dad stops and tuns to me, sneering. "Good night yourself." He spits as he shoves Frank into the car. I can't help but worry about Frank, his dad seems to be assertive.
-Frank's POV-
I get into the car, groping around for the seat belt. I hear the car doors slam around me. "I don't like Gerard, Frank," Dad says as soon as the car starts to move. I turn to the right of me, where I know my dad is. "Why not? There's nothing wrong with him," I say sheepishly. I can feel the tension rising. "I just don't know anything about him, I don't like you hanging around people I don't know," he says. I sigh and turn away from him. "You don't like me hanging around anyone, Dad," I mumble.
The rest of the way home is dead silent, and it scares me. When the car finally stops and Dad drags me to the house, he says, "What do you mean I don't let you hang out with anyone? I'm more than fair with you!" I felt anger rising up inside of me. "More than fair? How are you fair? You hardly let me do anything!" I snap. It doesn't take long before he says, "Because you can't hardly do anything! You can't even see!"
Tears fill my eyes from that. "Dad, you don't know anything about me," I say in a low voice. At that, I'm pressed up against a wall, hot breath on my face. "What's that supposed to mean?" My dad says harshly. I clench my fists as I say, "It means... you. Don't. Know. Me." He lets me go but the back of his hand collides with my face. "Prove that to me then! Name one thing I don't already know about you!" He screams.
I'm so angry, I can hardly contain it. "I am a homosexual, Dad. And I'm in love with Gerard Arthur Way!!!" I shout at the top of my lungs. Then it's silent again. Completely silent. At first, I think Dad left the room, but I'm quickly corrected when I feel his fits on my jaw. "You're... disgusting! How could you be so foul?! You're worthless, no son of mine!!! You were born worthless by your worthless mother! But this... you're sick!!!" He screams loudly.
The fists don't stop coming at me, and neither do his words, which hurt more than the fists. I've never felt so much hate in his words, in his touch. I beg for him to stop, but he only gets worse. His punches get harder. "Shut up! You're a disgusting freak! You have no right to talk!" He roars. His hands stop moving for a split second, but then one closes around my neck. He yanks me up, the pain setting in. He drags me down a hall, I'm gasping for air, struggling. I feel light headed. "D-Dad please... I can't.. b-breathe!!!" I rasp out.
He does let go, but instead shoves me. I land in a tight room. A closet. I gasp as air finally fills my lungs. I try to go forward and escape, but the door closes on my hand. I yank it back, screaming in pain. Something in my hand is definitely broken, I can feel the fiery pain, I can feel all the blood. "Dad! Daddy let me out!!!" I sob. He doesn't say anything, but I can hear the door lock. I hold back more sobs as he finally says. "Stay in the closet, faggot! The closet is right where freaks like you belong!" I stay in there all night, crying silently as my body aches.

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