When I woke in the morning, my body was aching. I tried defending Frank yesterday and just got another beating from Jack. I groaned as I turned onto my back, looking up at the black ceiling. The party was today. Patrick was complaining to me yesterday during practice about how stupid Blews was. But at least he got us invited. I'll admit I still can't play guitar, but I didn't ruin Frank's present. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, still softly snoring and curled into a ball. Fuck, he's so adorable! I turned onto my side to face him. His eyes suddenly fluttered open. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, apparently not aware I was staring at him. He gasped and sat up. "Gerard!"
I chuckled. "Yes, Frankie?" I replied, my voice cracking from sleep.
He turned around, a huge smile on my face. "It's my birthday!"
I sat up and nodded. "Indeed it is."
He started jumping around on the bed, like a little kid. "It's my birthday! It's my birthday!" He wouldn't stop grinning. "Gee Bear, it's my birthday and now I'm eighteen-- wow, I'm eighteen? It'smybirthdayimeighteennow--"
I leaned over and kissed his cheek to shut him up. "Your excitement is adorable, but I don't wanna wake my parents."
"Sorry," he muttered, starting to blush. He got up and started walking over to the closet.
"Pick my clothes for me, 'kay?" I called over my shoulder as I stood up and stretched. "I'm gonna get breakfast."

I went downstairs quietly, not trying to wake my parents. They got back from their business trip last night, and told us they didn't want us to bother them. When I got to the bottom, I could see Mikey was already walking around in the kitchen, eating cereal. He saw me and put the bowl down, smiling as much as he could with his mouth filled with Cheerios. "Morning," I murmured.
"You ready for tonight?" he asked once he swallowed down the cereal.
"Of course not," I sniggered, "but I can't exactly back down now, can I?" I poured some cereal into two bowls. "I still feel bad about stealing his notebook."
"But you didn't!" Mikey replied. "You took it because you thought it was yours, found that song in it, decided to serenade him with said song, and returned said notebook."
"But what if it was a personal thing for him?"
He put a finger up to my lips to quiet me. "Everything will go as planned." I nodded, not really wanting to get into a debate about what may or may not go right. It wasn't exactly an elaborate plan, but there's still things that could go astray. Frank could refuse to go to the party, Bob or Mikey or Ray could get hurt and not be able to come, Patrick could be uninvited last minute, fuck, Jack could be there! But it's better not to think of that. Mikey poured some milk into the bowls for me while I got the spoons. I brought the two bowls upstairs, kicked open my door, and closed it behind me with my elbow. I smiled up at Frank, who was standing in front of my mirror doing his eyeliner. I set one bowl down on the nightstand next to him, and sat on the bed with the other one in my lap. He finished up his makeup and smiled at me as he grabbed the bowl and started eating.
"Happy birthday, Frankie."
"You better have an amazing gift," he muttered.
Oh, I do.

---

"Geraaaaard," Frankie whined as the final bell rang, "I still don't have my present!"
I reached over and tilted his chin up so he was looking at me. "I never said I got you a gift."
He scoffed. "Gerard Arthur Way, you did not NOT get your boyfriend a present for his birthday!"
I chuckled, shrugging in response. He huffed and grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder.
"Fine. I'll take you down Main Street then," I muttered, feigning annoyance. His eyes lit up.
"Ooh, can we go back to that music store again? I wanna see if they still have that guitar!"
"Probably not, but okay." He pouted, but still held my hand as we walked down the hall. The walls of the school were decorated with paper bats and pumpkins, like they did every year. I told Frank we'd be going to a richer neighborhood for trick-or-treating later tonight, but that was still just apart of the plan. We actually managed to avoid Jack today, but that's because he hasn't left his new girlfriend's side. Tiffany Blews. I'm just praying that we don't fuck something up at the party, 'cause y'know, she's kinda the host. Because then Jack really will be out for our heads. We pushed through the double doors of the school and into the cold late-fall air of New Jersey.

All the way to Main Street, Frank muttered about my not being a good boyfriend and how angry he was I didn't get him a present. I eventually shut him up by picking him up bridal style again until we reached the biggest shopping strip in Summit, Main Street. I set him down in front of the coffee shop, which was selling ghost-shaped cookies. "Gerard, if you get me anything today," Frank started, "you will get me those cookies." I smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the store.
When we walked in, we were immediately greeted by the yelling of little kids. Black and orange balloons hang from the ceiling and cheesy Halloween music played in the background. I had to stifle my laughter when I saw the baristas all wore face paint of skeletons or zombies or things of the such. Frank pulled me up to the counter by my arm, and I used my free hand to pull out my wallet.
"Two ghost cookies, please!" Frank said to the cashier, who nodded and grabbed two cookies. "Gerard, a good boyfriend would've offered to buy me birthday cookies."
"Oh man, it's your birthday?" the cashier asked, putting the bag of cookies down on the counter.
"Mhmm," Frank replied, "but apparently my boyfriend here didn't get me a present." He tugged on my arm as I set down the money on the counter.
"Well, I guess your present from me would be my own birthday suit," he murmured, trying to sound flirtatious. I glared at him out of the corner of my eye, clenching my jaw, and that immediately shut him up. He looked away as he got out the change, putting it into my hand. Frank grabbed the bag and led me back outside.
"Is my dear Gee jealous?" he asked as we stepped back outside. and back into the cold air. I bit my lip. "Aw, you are!" He stood on his tiptoes to kiss my cheek. "C'mon, let's go home and get ready." He properly held my hand (as opposed to his grip on my wrist) and started walking home with me.

When we got home, Mikey was already running around the house.

In his boxers.

"Mikey, the fuck are you doing?" I asked him. He jumped, apparently not knowing we were here.
"Oh fuck!" he yelled and hid himself behind a couch cushion. "I was looking for you."
"In your boxers?"
"I needed your magical makeup artist wisdom."
"One, in your boxers? Two, I am not a makeup artist."
He scoffed. "I just need help with makeup. I'm being--"
"Jack Skellington, I know" I interrupted. "You've been talking about it for the past week." I sighed and turned to Frank. "Baby, if you could get your eyeshadow and face paint for Mikey here?" He nodded, let go of my hand, and went upstairs.
"So, do you want to do the half-assed skeleton or all out?" I asked Mikey when I heard my bedroom door open. He shrugged.
"I'm probably going to be recognizable either way, I'm borrowing Brendon's pinstripe outfit." I nodded. Frank came downstairs with his box of makeup. I took it from his hands and told Mikey to sit still. He flopped down onto the couch, using a blanket to cover him.
"It's not like I haven't seen a guy half-naked, Mikey," Frank pointed out.
"I didn't need to hear that," my brother groaned back.
"Sit still!"

---

I took another look in the mirror, making sure my bright red wig was in place. Frank agreed to cosplay a character I'd made up for Halloween, while I was a character I'd drawn a long while ago, Party Poison. The blue leather jacket obnoxiously squeaked whenever I moved, but that's the price I pay. Frank stood next to me, fixing his hair. He wore a yellow and black striped shirt under a vest and dirtied jeans; I had on, other than the squeaking jacket and red wig, tan jeans and a mask. He smiled in the mirror and rested his head on my shoulder. "Fun Ghoul," he said simply.
"What?"
He smiled wider. "My guy's name is Fun Ghoul."
"Fun Ghoul and Party Poison then, hmm?" He nodded.

There was suddenly a knock on the door. "I hope you two aren't fucking, Bob and Ray are here!" Mikey called. I laughed and grabbed Frank's hand, pulling him out of my room. Mikey nodded at me, part of our ~*~plan~*~ to tell me he loaded the guitar into the car. I led Frank downstairs and outside. The sky was already a dark blue. Me and him clambered into the backseat of Bob's old truck, Mikey following us. "Happy Halloween, motherfuckers!" Ray said cheerfully. He wore a black coat, black jeans, boots, and an eyepatch, a shitty rendition of a pirate. "We got the pillowcases in the back for trick-or-treating shenanigans." As per usual, Bob, dressed as a vampire, didn't say anything, just slammed against the gas and drove off from our house.

"So where are we going?" Frank asked when he had gotten used to Bob's reckless driving.
"You remember Patrick's house?" He nodded. "Well, Pat lives on the semi-rich part of town. Upper middle class. That's the northern downtown. We're going to the northern north, where the really really rich people live."
"So basically the part of town where people give out king-size candy bars?" I nodded and he smiled. "Yay!"
I wrapped my arm around his waist, pulling him closer to me. "I'm sorry about not getting you a present," I murmured, loud enough for only him to hear over the AC/DC Mikey decided to blare on the radio.
"I forgive you for taking me to the part of town that treat full-size KitKats," he replied, one corner of his mouth tugging up into a grin.

We eventually drove into Tiffany's neighborhood. I pulled out my phone and quickly text Patrick.

Please tell me you're here by now?

He replied literal seconds later.

I'm in front of the garage. Everyone here smells like alcohol and what I think is weed. Send help.

Calm down, we're almost there. You told Tiffany there's a band playing, right?

You've asked me that about 20 times this past week. Yes, she knows. She's probably too drunk right now to care if someone just set up a band in her house and performed, even if I hadn't. Just please come soon.

I chuckled and slipped my phone back into my pocket. When I looked up, I could see Tiffany's house. Every light in the house was on, some colored differently than the generic yellow-white with black lights. The house was covered in orange and purple fairy lights, lazily strewn about the front of the house. Jack-o-lanterns sat on the porch and fake body parts hung from the trellis. Several cars were parked around the block and in the driveway. I could make out a small figure sitting in front of the garage, presumably Patrick. Frank was fast asleep beside me, saying he wanted to "get in as much sleep as possible for maximum trick-or-treating energy", whatever that means. I hope he doesn't get mad when he wakes up.

We parked across the street from the house, since there was no other parking. When Bob turned off the music, my hearing was blown out, like I had just came from a concert. I urged the guys to stay quiet as they opened the doors. Ray came over and slowly opened the door to Frank's side. He picked him up by the feet, while I lifted him by his arms. He was apparently really tired, because he didn't even flinch. I shut the door behind me with my foot. I slipped my arms under his legs and held him bridal style again. We started walking across the street, over to Patrick, whose eyes lit up when he saw us. "Finally! If I stayed here any longer, I would never be able to wash the smell of cigarettes and beer from my clothes."
"Maybe your parents'll think you finally went out and did something reckless," Mikey replied.
Patrick noticed Frank in my arms. "Is he asleep?" I nodded. He hesitantly poked Frank's arm. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey."
He didn't flinch.
He poked his arm again. "Fraaaaaaank."
No response.
"FRANK!"

He jolted awake, swatting his arms around before realizing who was holding him. "Gee? Are we here?" He thrashed around so I put him down on his feet. He looked around, then up at the house. "Where the hell are we?"
I put my hand on his shoulder. "We, Frankie, are at a motherfucking house party." I smiled at looked up at the lights. "And we will fucking party."

---

Frank looked around, wincing at how loud the kids were. He told me this was the first time he'd ever been to a house party. Not surprising considering his unpopularity. The flashing strobe lights were starting to hurt my eyes, and I was sick and tired of the same stupid pop song playing on repeat in the background. The costumes others were wearing were typical: vampires, Playboy bunnies, pirates, ghosts, half-assed superheroes and Jokers.

Jesus FUCK, WHO THE HELL DECIDED TO PLAY CALIFORNIA GIRLS 12 TIMES ON REPEAT? I never want to hear this song again. In my life. Ever.

The hard chair of the bar was beginning to hurt my ass, but whatever. I checked my watch. Almost time. I turned to Frank. "Hey, babe, I gotta go to the bathroom," I told him, barely audible over the loud music. His eyes widened, but he nodded. "Don't run off now, okay?" I joked, ruffling his hair. I got up, pulled up my jeans, and started walking over to the room Patrick told me we'd gather in.

FRANK'S P.O.V.

My head was already pounding. I was obviously never a party-goer, so I'm nowhere used to this. The ginger ale, the only thing I can drink, was stale and gross, they've been playing the same song on repeat for the past hour or so. I'm happy Gerard considered this for me, but I really am not enjoying myself. The hard bar chairs started to hurt my ass. And I'm honestly considering just finding the bearded guy and asking him to take us home.

I was just about to get up from my seat and find Gerard when someone sat down next to me and threw their arm across the bar. "Hey, hot stuff," a girl slurred, twirling her blonde hair around her finger. She wore a fishnet stockings, bunny ears, and a black leotard with a cotton ball stitched to the back.
"Uh, h-hey," I stuttered.
She leaned forward and stared at me with half-lidded eyes. "So, I'm not good with words, but, um..." She bit her lip and looked away, probably trying to look sexy. "I was thinking you and me, y'know," she wiggled her eyebrows, "go back to my room?"
It took all my might not to yell in her face. "Well, I'm flattered, but I have a partner already."
She giggled. "Oh, I'm sure they wouldn't mind." She licked her lips very unattractively and reached out a hand to my hip. "So how 'bout it?"
I swatted her hand away. "I have a boyfriend," I told her, more firm this time.
She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so you like dick?" She pressed her body against mine the best she could without pushing me off the seat. "Well, we'll change that."
I pushed her off of me. "I have a boyfriend, I'm sorry. You're very pretty, but I can't cheat. I love him dearly."
She scoffed. "Fine, go ahead and decline Tiffany FUCKING Blews!" she yelled, though it was still barely audible over the music. She shook her head and walked off, stumbling a bit in her heels. Welp, my first time being hit on and it was by a kinda repulsive girl. I'll admit I'm pansexual, but I'm almost always attracted to men. And she was definitely not one to change that. I sighed and took a sip of the ginger ale.

Which, strangely, tasted even worse. I didn't think anything of it until I suddenly felt really sick to my stomach.

"Make sure you don't mix any medication, alright?" Lindsey told me when she was driving me to Gerard's house. "With the anti-depressants you're on, any mixing of medication other than like Advil and such, it'll cause intense nausea."

Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck. Had she slipped something into my drink? Oh fuck fuck fuck. Okay, she also said the worse thing I could possibly mix with it was alcohol, which I definitely wasn't drinking. Okay, it had to be roofies. Which isn't that bad. Wait, I think she said that whatever drugs I get mixed with it won't take an effect. I'll be fine then, just... really, really sick. I covered my mouth and bolted up from my seat, half-jogging up the stairs I saw Gee go up earlier. When I reached the top, I saw there was a long hallway of rooms, and at the end what appeared to be a dining room. I could smell the weed coming from the dining room, so I'm sure he wasn't in there. The corridor was filled with teenagers drunk and as high as a jet, screaming their asses off about... whatever it is that intoxicated teens scream their asses off about. I started to file through the crowd, yelling out Gerard's name, hoping wherever he was, he would hear me.

GERARD'S P.O.V.

"So, where are we doing this?" I asked Patrick.
"Tiffany went to go clear people out of the living room for you guys," he told me. I nodded.
"So, Bob, your drumset is in the truck, and the rest of the instruments?"
"Yuuup."
"Okay." I smiled. This was the most I'd gone through for a present for anyone.

Suddenly, I heard someone yelling my name frantically. Everyone who knew I existed but Frank was in this very room, so this obviously wasn't good. That or he just got worried about me. I excused myself and poked my head out of the door. I knew I wasn't imagining it when I saw a figure stumbling about in the crowd of drunkards in a yellow shirt. "Frank?" I called back. He looked up, confirming that it was in fact my boyfriend. I maneuvered through the crowd until I caught up with him, near the railing that looks over the first floor. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "I think someone... slipped something into my d-drink," he muttered, "I feel sick." He covered his mouth and hunched over, probably about to puke. I grabbed a trash bin conveniently placed a few feet away and handed it to him. He snatched it from my hands and immediately stuck his face in it, retching.
"Someone slipped something in your drink?" I repeated. I obviously didn't expect a reply. "Fuck, okay, wait here."
I ran back over to the room I had left the guys in and poked my head in. "Guys, Frank is sick."
"What?" Patrick questioned.
"I don't know. He's throwing up."
"Well, there goes an entire plan!" whined Mikey.
"We'll think of something, okay? But he just needs to go home right now." Bob nodded and followed me out the door. I walked back over to Frank, head still in the bin. "Frankie, we're going home now."

I picked him up bridal style again, letting him drop the bin to the floor. I carried him downstairs, through the groups of underage drinkers, and out the door. He buried his face into my chest as I walked him across the street, the rest of the guys following behind me. We climbed back into Bob's car without a word. I couldn't tell if Frank was asleep or not, so I couldn't discuss what we would do now.

Bob's car pulled up to my house with a squeak. I got out of the car and rushed into the house. He was still awake, though I'm not sure if he was fully coherent. I carried him to my bathroom, letting him sit on the edge of the tub. "Are you okay?"
He gulped. "Any drugs... m-mixed with my anti-depressants causes nau-nausea. But it won't take effect like it w-w-w-would usually." He turned around and I shut my eyes before I could see anything to match up with the gagging sounds. "I just... need to calm down."
I nodded and bit my lip. Suddenly, an idea came to me. I tried not to smile as I spoke. "Okay. Situate yourself on the bed. I gotta talk with Bob and Ray and Mikes for a second." He nodded and followed me back out to my room, flopping down onto the bed. I shut the door to my room before walking back downstairs. Mikey was obviously irritated, his arms crossed and one foot tapping on the floor. "Alright, I've got an idea."

---

FRANK'S P.O.V.

I laid on Gerard's, well our, bed, feeling like absolute shit. He probably went through a lot of trouble to get to that party, and I made him leave early. The nausea had subsided, for the most part, but I still felt absolutely terrible. I really wanted to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, my stomach would knot again. What a wonderful way to remember my 18th birthday. I heard someone clear their throat, and I turned my head hoping that it was Gee, but Patrick was standing there. "Gerard told me to tell you that it might be a good idea to, uh," he pointed to a corner of my room, "look out the window."
I raised an eyebrow and propped myself up on my elbows. "What?" I questioned. He simply smiled, tipped his hat to me, and walked out of the room. What the hell was he going on about? I forced myself to stand up, a bit shaky on my own legs, but I made it to the window.

Gerard stood on the lawn, Mikey and the other two guys behind him with instruments in front of them. The blonde had a drum set, Mikey, a bass, and Gerard and Ray had guitars. The one Gerard held was familiar. Oh, it was the one I saw at the music store! Gee also had a microphone in front of him. He wasn't going to do what I think he is, was he?

He looked up and smiled. "Frank, I have decided that the only proper birthday present is some serenading."

Oh fuck he is. What I was not expecting, though, was the song he played. It was the one I wrote months ago. How the hell did he get ahold of it? That's not my main focus right now though, my attention is going towards my wonderful boyfriend and his voice.

Hand in mine, into your icy blues
And then I'd say to you we could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition too
I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets
I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know just how much you mean to me
And after all the things we put each other through and
I would drive on to the end with you
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like there's nothing left to do
But prove myself to you and we'll keep it running
But this time, I mean it
I'll let you know just how much you mean to me
As snow falls on desert sky
Until the end of everything
I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know how much you mean
As days fade, and nights grow
And we go cold

He looked up every few lines, a grin returning to his face. By the time he finished, I knew I was as red as a tomato, and my hands covered my smile. At the end of it, he gripped the guitar tightly, and held it up. "I knew you wanted this, so I kinda got you it," he explained. "It's not exactly new anymore, since I've been using it to practice this song, but this is your official birthday present."
"That and the serenading!" Mikey butt in.
"So," Gerard said, glaring at Mikey out of the corner of his eye, "happy eighteenth, sweetheart."

I didn't reply. I walked away from the window, trying to take this all in. I heard murmuring coming from outside, but paid no attention. I ran downstairs, as fast as I could on my weak legs, and threw open the door. Gee's face lit up when he saw me and I ran over to hug him. "Holy shit, Gee!" I yelled as I buried my face into his chest.
He laughed. "I take it you liked it."
I pulled away. "Liked it? Hell no. I loved it."
I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to bring him into a passionate kiss. I heard Mikey groan and the other two whistle and cheer. When we pulled apart, I could see a blush spreading on his face.
"Happy Halloween," I murmured, cracking a smile.
"Happy Halloween."

Notes

IT'S 5:05 AM AND I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED TYPING THIS. NOTHING HAS FUELED THIS IMPROMPTU ALL-NIGHTER EXCEPT A NEED TO WATCH ALL OF CRY'S LATE NIGHT STREAM AND SEVERAL SANDWICHES. THE END WAS PRETTY RUSHED BECAUSE I WAS GETTING A HEADACHE AND I WAS HUNGRY.
I WILL NEVER HAVE A NORMAL SLEEP SCHEDULE AGAIN AFTER TONIGHT.

xo