Forget About The Dirty Looks.

I wake up the next morning and my first thought if Gerard. The next thought is how tired I am. Maybe mom is right, but, I really need coffee.
Today we are decorating the house. How exciting. All I'll do all day is put posters up in my room and, maybe, I'll go out, see if there are any cool shops in this town. Apparently the towns crime rate are quite high so I'll have to be careful if I go out; my mom's words, not mine..

I've got my coffee, and unpacked most of my shit,but it's not like I have a lot anyway, our last house got robbed and apparently the burglars were short of teenage boys clothing, and socks.
I've just started to put my posters up when my mom comes in and asks me to go get some groceries for her, and that she would go, but because I've done 'nothing' all day, I have to go. Reluctantly I put my shoes on and start walking. I've got my license, but my mom don't like me driving her car, apparently I'm dangerous. As I walk down the street, music starts pumping out of Gerard's house, decent music. I wonder who's playing it: Gerard or Mikey? Could be either, I suppose.

I get to the main street, and enter the grocery shop. I end up get more shit than my mom asked, but oh well. There is a dark alleyway opposite the shop, and I see a dark haired, dark clothed boy. Gerard.
And he looks like he's smoking pot or something. He's with a group of boys that all have an alcoholic substance in their hands. I guess the one playing music earlier was Mikey, then.
Gerard notices me and calls out to me.
"Hey, Frank come over here!" Gerard is obviously drunk, and I cautiously make my way over there.
"Gerard, hey."
"Oi, Gerard, who's this little faggot?" One of Gerard's 'friends' asks. Ouch, the insult really stung. Not.
I consider whether it would be wise for me to say something back, it probably isn't but I do anyway.
"Hey, Gerard, who is the big, stupid, twat?" Whoops, definitely a bad idea. The twat in question is lumbering over to me. Meanwhile Gerard was laughing at my little insult towards no-name.
"My name, midget, is Craig. Who do you think you are speaking to me like that, fag?" Craig has, by then, grabbed me by the collar of my t-shirt and is shaking me slightly, trying to look intimidating. which I might add, is kinda working.
"Oh y'know, Craig, I'm a midget faggot, that's who I think I am" My big mouth decides to open again, earning me another hard shake, and having my breathing cut off a little bit more.
Finally, Gerard decides to speak up.
"Craig, put him down, he's only kidding around with you", he says this in a somewhat stern tone and I get dropped on the floor. "Thank you, Craig. Anyway, Frankie, thank you for the cigarette last night, I thought I'd.. return the favor. Want a joint?"
He has the stupid smirk on his face, like he just knows I'd turn him down.
"Um, n-no thanks, Gerard. I've, um, got to get home and help my m-mom, with um, with.. stuff."
"Aw, is Frankie too scared? Poor little baby, perhaps you need some vodka to lighten you up.." He nods toward Craig and another meathead, and they grab my arms. I let out a cry of surprise and start to struggle in their grip, which is useless, because as stupid as they are, they are super strong. Gerard comes at me with a half full bottle of vodka and stands before me.
"C'mon, Frankie, drink up. It's nice." He is laughing now, and I am, yet again, blushing.
"N-no, Gerard. I-I don't want any, if you could just let me go, p-please." My stutter has come back with vengeance, and it's making me seem weak.
"Well, if your not going to drink it willingly, I'm afraid I'll have to do it by force. Tut-tut, Frankie, I thought you were funner than this.."
He brings the drink up to my lips as I clamp them shut. He pinches my nose, so eventually I'll have to open my mouth to breathe. I last around thirty seconds and I start gasping for air, Gerard sees his chance and rams the neck of the bottle in my mouth, smirking all the while, tips it up and the bitter alcohol is then making its way down my throat.
This brings up some really fucked-up memories of my childhood, and tears stream down my face. After that I must have blacked out, because I don't remember a thing, apart from seeing somebody with a really curly afro storm towards us.

Notes

Soo, second chapter. I hope you guys enjoys it, and I apologize for any mistakes in advance about America, because I'm English and don't know a lot about the american schooling system, etc. Thanks for reading....