You should have never come
Chapter 30
...“I was scared I would have to hand-wash them, I didn’t know how many mom has packed,” he explains. At least I’m not the only one who has no idea how to pack his bags.
Gerard’s POV
My hair is still a bit wet from the pool; it looks as if I’ve been outside in the pouring rain for several minutes, and no matter how I much I rub it with a towel, the moist feeling just doesn’t go. I hate how the cold water is occasionally drips down the back of my neck, tickling me, and for the last 30 minutes I’ve been debating whether or not I should just wrap a towel around my head and let it be. I do so sometimes when I’m home alone; it’s really comfortable and easy to do, especially if your hair is kind of long.
On the topic of the rain, it is (unfortunately) really warm and dry outside, which means we will go out to the field after dinner. Honestly I’m so tired I’d much rather just stay in the dining and play board games, but Ballash is not to be argued with. I wonder if he’s going to leave us with Frank again and just go about his own business- Frank is really bad at conducting teenagers, because he’s technically one himself. Everyone sees him more like a friend than a counselor who must be obeyed, so they don’t go easy on him. He doesn’t seem to mind it that much though, he laughs and jokes around every time he has a chance. Needless to say, his puns are trash.
But I still enjoy hearing them.
To be honest, all of this feels like a dream. I feel like a totally different person from the one I was back in Jersey. It’s like I’ve been replaced without myself knowing. I feel as open, friendly and, most importantly, liked by the society as never before in my whole life. It’s like my social anxiety just fled into the air and disappeared almost without a trace, only leaving occasional blushing behind. I think the reason I feel so free is because in the back of my mind I know that I’m only going to be here for two more weeks, so I gotta make the most of it. Whatever opinions these people make about me, there’s no way they can affect me. I am almost myself. However, I still think that ‘basketball is the greatest sport invented, it should be turned into a religion” and I also “love soccer, especially when I’m getting tackled”. I’m almost starting to believe myself sometimes, and the idea of just how fake I need to be to fit in and be liked makes me sick. Another thing I find really amusing is the fact that someone is attracted to me. And it’s not just someone- it’s my counselor! Even though he’s only two years older than me I still feel like this type of thing wouldn’t happen back in New Jersey, let alone that Frank is actually extremely attractive. Whenever I think about the fact that we are technically together, my heart makes an attempt to choke itself out of my throat.
And Angelina likes me too, but I’m not sure how to react to that, so I guess I’ll just let her be.
And I think I am going to show them my art today or tomorrow; they’ll be cool with it. To be honest I don’t know why I’ve ever been embarrassed of showing my drawings to people, because really, they aren’t that bad. Sure, all I can draw are comic book characters, but at least they look appealing. Art has always been this huge part of my life which no one knew about except for my family and my art teacher; it’s almost like hiding from your classmates that you work as a prostitute every night and even manage to get some good money off it.
We’re all sitting downstairs in the dinery, waiting for the next announcements or orders. Frank is gone again, he keeps on disappearing on and off. I never get the chance to ask him where he goes, but I guess he can’t wander off too far from the campus- first of all, Piesendorf is the smallest village I’ve ever been to so there’s nowhere he can hide, and he doesn’t have enough time to actually walk a long distance since Ballash makes him do all the work.
My stomach growls and Diego’s head shoots up at me but I ignore him, pretending like I didn’t notice the sound or his reaction.
Finally our table is allowed to go to the stands to get food. We immediately get to our feet and, stumbling over the chairs, make our way to the desired nutritions. Today it’s spaghetti Bolognese, minus the meat and the cheese. So spaghetti with tomato sauce, that is. The lunch lady loads our plates, making sure we accidentally don’t get an extra string of spaghetti and offers us water.
***
“Ha! Try to catch me!” Diego screams from across the other end of field to me, waving both his arms above his head and jumping up and down.
“I’ll catch you before you take the first step, punk!” I yell back, using all of my lungs force while sprinting around, ready to leap forward or sideways if Diego tries to get past me. I’m almost completely out of breath, but this is extremely fun. Diego’s silhouette bends over and he shakes with laughter, his hands slapping his knees.
“You wish!” he screams and suddenly, without a warning dashes to the right, running as fast as a rocket, leaning down towards the ground and using his hands to help him. He is almost like a wild graceful gazelle, his hair over his face, and I’m mesmerised by the scene as he speeds around the field, meaning to pass me by a long distance. My mind takes several seconds to form a plan, and the next thing I know, I’m cutting through the wind, the grass tickling my ankles as I run to meet him and hopefully cut him off. I can hardly breathe but I don’t pay attention to the discomfort- I’m just really, really happy.
Diego doesn’t seem to notice me as he continues running his original plan. If I keep running straight at the same speed as now and he doesn’t change his direction either, I’ll tackle him down from the side just as he passes that soccer goal.
I push myself to move even faster, and my legs seem to have completely blended in with the air. The feeling can’t be compared to anything; I feel like I’m flying.
“Asshole!” I yell out before stumbling into Diego, pushing him into the grass. He lets out a small shriek, rolling into the grass and I follow him, laughing maniacally and feeling like I’m going to suffocate any second. He turns to look at me, propping himself on one elbow. His face is red and he’s panting heavily, his chest rising under the Nirvana T-shirt. His hair is all messed up and I can only imagine what mine looks like right now- like a piece of crumpled and cut up paper which has been spraypainted fire-truck red and glued onto my head so that it reaches my shoulders. I brush my bangs back from my face, continuing to laugh, not able to stop. Diego’s lips crack in a wide smile and he follows me, collapsing back onto the warm ground and clasping his hands to his stomach.
After we calm down and regain our breath he turns to look at me.
“I didn’t know you could run so fast,” he says, his voice slightly raspy.
Me neither Diego, me neither.
“You looked like a motherfucking gazelle,” I tell him and he snorts, lying back into the soft green grass and putting his hands behind his head.
I push myself off the ground and brush the dirt off my knees. I then straighten my back, breathing in the clean Alpes air, which practically makes my head go round. My legs don’t feel like they are one with the wind anymore; they feel as if they’re made of heavy boulders which I can hardly drag along.
“C’mon, let’s go,” I say weakly, turning back over my shoulder to glance at Diego, who’s still on the ground. He opens his eyes and nods in approvement, starting to make attempts at sitting up. I chuckle quietly.
And that’s when I take a step forward, absolutely not looking under my feet.
“Holy-” I start, feeling a sharp pain shoot through my left leg. “Fuuuuck,”
“Are you okay?” Diego’s worried voice calls from behind and I shake my head.
“Careful! There’s a fucking ditch in here,” I land onto my ass, hissing in pain as I feel my ankle being twisted.
“Shit, does it hurt?” I feel Diego’s hand clutch around my forearm, pulling me up.
“Yes,” I reply, trying to act manly and brave, even though from my experience my pain tolerance is pretty low. All I’m trying to say is that if Diego wasn’t here, I’d probably cry.
“Can you walk?” he asks when I’m back onto my feet and I shrug, shuffling forward slightly. I almost collapse back onto the ground and he catches me.
“Do you think it’s broken?”
“No, I don’t know, probably not, maybe, no, no” I chant out, wincing. I’ve never broken a bone, how should I know?
“Should we get you back to the hotel?”
Hm, that idea doesn’t sound that bad. I can just listen to music on my phone or draw, or even go downstairs and get tea.
Yes, get me back to the hotel.
I a bit over-fiercely nod my head but Diego doesn’t acknowledge my enthusiasm.
“Okay, you stay here and I’m going to call Frank,” he says, carefully setting me onto the ground.
Oh yes, I forgot to tell you- Frank is the boss once again and we have no idea where Ballash is.
Diego sprints off and I just wait quietly, picking on the grass. The pain in my leg has faded already, but I’m not meaning to stay here- I just got a chance to have a calm evening with myself and I’m going to take it.
Suddenly Frank and Diego appear. Frank’s eyes are laughing while Diego looks extremely worried, his eyebrows knitted on his forehead and lips parted slightly.
“Hey, cripple,” Frank addresses me jokingly, clucking his tongue. “So what happened?”
“I fell into the ditch,” I explain, “and my ankle hurts,”
“Okay, we should get back to the hotel then,” Frank says and turns back to Diego. “Make sure nobody breaks someone’s neck, thank you,”
Gerard’s POV
My hair is still a bit wet from the pool; it looks as if I’ve been outside in the pouring rain for several minutes, and no matter how I much I rub it with a towel, the moist feeling just doesn’t go. I hate how the cold water is occasionally drips down the back of my neck, tickling me, and for the last 30 minutes I’ve been debating whether or not I should just wrap a towel around my head and let it be. I do so sometimes when I’m home alone; it’s really comfortable and easy to do, especially if your hair is kind of long.
On the topic of the rain, it is (unfortunately) really warm and dry outside, which means we will go out to the field after dinner. Honestly I’m so tired I’d much rather just stay in the dining and play board games, but Ballash is not to be argued with. I wonder if he’s going to leave us with Frank again and just go about his own business- Frank is really bad at conducting teenagers, because he’s technically one himself. Everyone sees him more like a friend than a counselor who must be obeyed, so they don’t go easy on him. He doesn’t seem to mind it that much though, he laughs and jokes around every time he has a chance. Needless to say, his puns are trash.
But I still enjoy hearing them.
To be honest, all of this feels like a dream. I feel like a totally different person from the one I was back in Jersey. It’s like I’ve been replaced without myself knowing. I feel as open, friendly and, most importantly, liked by the society as never before in my whole life. It’s like my social anxiety just fled into the air and disappeared almost without a trace, only leaving occasional blushing behind. I think the reason I feel so free is because in the back of my mind I know that I’m only going to be here for two more weeks, so I gotta make the most of it. Whatever opinions these people make about me, there’s no way they can affect me. I am almost myself. However, I still think that ‘basketball is the greatest sport invented, it should be turned into a religion” and I also “love soccer, especially when I’m getting tackled”. I’m almost starting to believe myself sometimes, and the idea of just how fake I need to be to fit in and be liked makes me sick. Another thing I find really amusing is the fact that someone is attracted to me. And it’s not just someone- it’s my counselor! Even though he’s only two years older than me I still feel like this type of thing wouldn’t happen back in New Jersey, let alone that Frank is actually extremely attractive. Whenever I think about the fact that we are technically together, my heart makes an attempt to choke itself out of my throat.
And Angelina likes me too, but I’m not sure how to react to that, so I guess I’ll just let her be.
And I think I am going to show them my art today or tomorrow; they’ll be cool with it. To be honest I don’t know why I’ve ever been embarrassed of showing my drawings to people, because really, they aren’t that bad. Sure, all I can draw are comic book characters, but at least they look appealing. Art has always been this huge part of my life which no one knew about except for my family and my art teacher; it’s almost like hiding from your classmates that you work as a prostitute every night and even manage to get some good money off it.
We’re all sitting downstairs in the dinery, waiting for the next announcements or orders. Frank is gone again, he keeps on disappearing on and off. I never get the chance to ask him where he goes, but I guess he can’t wander off too far from the campus- first of all, Piesendorf is the smallest village I’ve ever been to so there’s nowhere he can hide, and he doesn’t have enough time to actually walk a long distance since Ballash makes him do all the work.
My stomach growls and Diego’s head shoots up at me but I ignore him, pretending like I didn’t notice the sound or his reaction.
Finally our table is allowed to go to the stands to get food. We immediately get to our feet and, stumbling over the chairs, make our way to the desired nutritions. Today it’s spaghetti Bolognese, minus the meat and the cheese. So spaghetti with tomato sauce, that is. The lunch lady loads our plates, making sure we accidentally don’t get an extra string of spaghetti and offers us water.
***
“Ha! Try to catch me!” Diego screams from across the other end of field to me, waving both his arms above his head and jumping up and down.
“I’ll catch you before you take the first step, punk!” I yell back, using all of my lungs force while sprinting around, ready to leap forward or sideways if Diego tries to get past me. I’m almost completely out of breath, but this is extremely fun. Diego’s silhouette bends over and he shakes with laughter, his hands slapping his knees.
“You wish!” he screams and suddenly, without a warning dashes to the right, running as fast as a rocket, leaning down towards the ground and using his hands to help him. He is almost like a wild graceful gazelle, his hair over his face, and I’m mesmerised by the scene as he speeds around the field, meaning to pass me by a long distance. My mind takes several seconds to form a plan, and the next thing I know, I’m cutting through the wind, the grass tickling my ankles as I run to meet him and hopefully cut him off. I can hardly breathe but I don’t pay attention to the discomfort- I’m just really, really happy.
Diego doesn’t seem to notice me as he continues running his original plan. If I keep running straight at the same speed as now and he doesn’t change his direction either, I’ll tackle him down from the side just as he passes that soccer goal.
I push myself to move even faster, and my legs seem to have completely blended in with the air. The feeling can’t be compared to anything; I feel like I’m flying.
“Asshole!” I yell out before stumbling into Diego, pushing him into the grass. He lets out a small shriek, rolling into the grass and I follow him, laughing maniacally and feeling like I’m going to suffocate any second. He turns to look at me, propping himself on one elbow. His face is red and he’s panting heavily, his chest rising under the Nirvana T-shirt. His hair is all messed up and I can only imagine what mine looks like right now- like a piece of crumpled and cut up paper which has been spraypainted fire-truck red and glued onto my head so that it reaches my shoulders. I brush my bangs back from my face, continuing to laugh, not able to stop. Diego’s lips crack in a wide smile and he follows me, collapsing back onto the warm ground and clasping his hands to his stomach.
After we calm down and regain our breath he turns to look at me.
“I didn’t know you could run so fast,” he says, his voice slightly raspy.
Me neither Diego, me neither.
“You looked like a motherfucking gazelle,” I tell him and he snorts, lying back into the soft green grass and putting his hands behind his head.
I push myself off the ground and brush the dirt off my knees. I then straighten my back, breathing in the clean Alpes air, which practically makes my head go round. My legs don’t feel like they are one with the wind anymore; they feel as if they’re made of heavy boulders which I can hardly drag along.
“C’mon, let’s go,” I say weakly, turning back over my shoulder to glance at Diego, who’s still on the ground. He opens his eyes and nods in approvement, starting to make attempts at sitting up. I chuckle quietly.
And that’s when I take a step forward, absolutely not looking under my feet.
“Holy-” I start, feeling a sharp pain shoot through my left leg. “Fuuuuck,”
“Are you okay?” Diego’s worried voice calls from behind and I shake my head.
“Careful! There’s a fucking ditch in here,” I land onto my ass, hissing in pain as I feel my ankle being twisted.
“Shit, does it hurt?” I feel Diego’s hand clutch around my forearm, pulling me up.
“Yes,” I reply, trying to act manly and brave, even though from my experience my pain tolerance is pretty low. All I’m trying to say is that if Diego wasn’t here, I’d probably cry.
“Can you walk?” he asks when I’m back onto my feet and I shrug, shuffling forward slightly. I almost collapse back onto the ground and he catches me.
“Do you think it’s broken?”
“No, I don’t know, probably not, maybe, no, no” I chant out, wincing. I’ve never broken a bone, how should I know?
“Should we get you back to the hotel?”
Hm, that idea doesn’t sound that bad. I can just listen to music on my phone or draw, or even go downstairs and get tea.
Yes, get me back to the hotel.
I a bit over-fiercely nod my head but Diego doesn’t acknowledge my enthusiasm.
“Okay, you stay here and I’m going to call Frank,” he says, carefully setting me onto the ground.
Oh yes, I forgot to tell you- Frank is the boss once again and we have no idea where Ballash is.
Diego sprints off and I just wait quietly, picking on the grass. The pain in my leg has faded already, but I’m not meaning to stay here- I just got a chance to have a calm evening with myself and I’m going to take it.
Suddenly Frank and Diego appear. Frank’s eyes are laughing while Diego looks extremely worried, his eyebrows knitted on his forehead and lips parted slightly.
“Hey, cripple,” Frank addresses me jokingly, clucking his tongue. “So what happened?”
“I fell into the ditch,” I explain, “and my ankle hurts,”
“Okay, we should get back to the hotel then,” Frank says and turns back to Diego. “Make sure nobody breaks someone’s neck, thank you,”
Notes
Once again on the topic of Gerard Way's dick:
https://vk.com/im?peers=108626162&sel=262822253&z=photo-68251027_356008364%2Fwall-68251027_32763
You can see it rly well sooo yh
I've changed my username and I'm no longer gerard_needs_to_chill, I'm Lindsey Way
and don't forget that you're all beautiful
This was actually the first fanfiction I ever read. (Hence that was like a year and a half ago)
5/1/17