Unapologetic Apathy

*Gerard's POV*

Canned laughter floated obnoxiously through the living room, mixing in a cacophony of sounds from the old television box set and the generous bustle and clatter effusing from the glowing kitchen. My worn converse shuffled quietly across the clean frayed carpet in the hallway, trying to avoid attention. I hurriedly took to the stairs, kicking away dust balls that had gathered in the corners and successfully escaping the notice of my mother. Catching my foot on the top step I staggered clumsily in the general direction of my brother's bedroom, and promptly collided head on with his doorframe.

"Well, fuck." I muttered, breathing heavily and clutching my throbbing forehead.

"You got that right." The door in front of me creaked open and a pair of white thick-rimmed glasses poked out, perched precariously upon a long thin nose. "You okay?" Mikey grinned at me in condescending amusement.

"Yeah, yeah." I mumbled , my face tinged pink in slight embarrassment. There was a pause while Mikey waited and I stood awkwardly before him, massaging my aching head.

Mikey shifted from foot to foot. "Did you, like, want something?" He peered at me from under his fringe, tilting his head back to watch me through his somewhat dirty lenses.

"Er, what? Oh, ah yeah, I did actually. You know that kid in my class, the one with that kind of fake Mohawk thing? And all the piercings?"

Mikey's expression changed instantly, from politely curious to devilish in a second.

"Ooh, Frank Iero, eh? Gerard's got a boyfriend! Gerard's got a boyfriend!" He yelled in a high-pitched, singsong voice.

"N-no, I don't! And you're one to talk! Said hello to Ray recently?" He immediately shut up. "Exactly." I stated smugly, smirking. "Anyway, I'm just worried about him, is all. He didn't seem okay."

"Yeah, well, alright. Just be careful. He looks like bad news." Mikey warned, still a bright shade of red due to my comment about Ray.

"Yep, will do."

As I made my way down the steps to my basement bedroom, all I could think about was the kid from class, Frank Iero. Was he actually serious with what he said? I couldn't really tell. There was something about his eyes though, that I hadn't seen before. On the outside he looked normal, well as normal as you can when dressed as teenage punk boy with piercings and what I assume are underage tattoos. But his eyes were strange. Empty. Yes, I liked that. His eyes were empty. No emotion. I needed to help this kid, even though I knew next to nothing about him. Not his age or where he lived, what he was like, hobbies or anything. I'm going to find out, I just hoped he'd survived the night to come to school tomorrow.

Notes

Hey, again. Glad to see your still here. 'Scuse the shitty writing and all.