“God damn it, man. You can't just give a sixteen-year-old kid fuckin’ heroin, dude, he’s got a life ahead of him, you can't ruin him like that – ”

“Seventeen,” the man interrupted. “He’s seventeen on Halloween.”

“Still young as fuck,” Bert grumbled, setting down his beer bottle and sighing through his wispy beard. “Far too young to die.”

The other man snorted into his vodka. “Don’t be ridiculous. When I met you a year ago, you were long gone. Let the boy be. He’s no concern of yours anyway.”

“I just don’t want to get in trouble with the fuzz,” he protested. “Besides, he’s different.”

“Oh, so you like him, do you?” at this point the man stood up from his chair, grabbing Bert by the collar. “You little faggot. I shoulda known.”

“I-I don’t, I swear,” Bert mumbled through terror-swollen lips, wondering again what was so great about Frank Iero in the first place.

“Whatever, queer.” The man dropped Bert, who thankfully landed on his chair, a shaky mess. The man stalked out, throwing his beer bottle against the wall. The shards of glass glinted in the sun.

---

Gerard somehow survived math class, most likely because Mr. Urie was too busy flirting with the new aid, Ryan. (“That’s Mr. Ross to you, punk”.) Gerard didn’t blame him.

When the bell rang, the ravenette hurtled from his chair down to the drama room. Mikey was already there, staring longingly at Mr. Wentz’s butt as the drama teacher scribbled illegibly on the chalkboard. Gerard rolled his eyes. Mikey was so fucking gay. He just didn’t know it.

Gerard slid into a seat, putting in his earbuds and blasting blink-182. Ray walked in, stole the chair Gerard was propping his feet on and an earbud, tapping a foot to the rhythm. Gerard good-naturedly flipped him off and went back to thinking about the way Frank Iero smiled. Gerard had always thought Frank was hot, yeah, but now that he thought about it… maybe he had a small crush on the punk rock midget. A small one.

“GIMME BACK MY PHONE, YOU SOGGY DICKMUFFIN!” James Dewees bolted into the room, followed by a pissed-looking Frank in a Misfits hoodie, and extremely tight black skinny jeans that unwantedly drew Gerard’s eye. Frank tackled James, knocking him to the floor and grinning as he drew his phone from James’ pocket. “Assbutt.”

James rolled his eyes and stretched out in the back of the classroom. Frank followed him, propping his feet on a chair and putting his hands behind his head.

“ROMEO AND JULIET! YOU’RE RUNNING LINES IN THE BACK! NURSE, LADY CAPULET, TYBALT, LORD CAPULET, YOU’RE IN THE HALLWAY! STAGE CREW, COME TALK TO ME!” Mr. Wentz yelled at the unnatural volume he was known for.

Gerard awkwardly shuffled to the back, where James promptly hopped out of his seat and headed for stage crew. Gerard took the still-warm seat, cranking the volume on his earbuds. Frank pulled one out. “Come on, Gerard. Or should I say Juliet? You don’t really look like a Juliet to me.”

“I never wanted to be a girl! I don’t know why Tay or Taylor couldn’t’ve been Juliet, but noooo, let’s stick Gerard, Gerard of the not-girly ass in the not-girly jeans, Gerard the boobless who also happens to be an alto and has never had a period in his life, Gerard who has a fucking dick – ”

“Chill, man.” Frank laughed. “I believe you about having a dick. God. Also, your ass is kinda girly, but in a good way (WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY do you see what I did there guys). So suck it up and recite your fucking lines.”

Gerard sat there, shocked. What the fuck? Frank said he had a nice butt? Frank knew his name? “Okay. Let me get my script.”

_______________

Okey dokey, Chapter One. I know I said I'd post this tomorrow but after all your nice comments I've decided to post this now and post Chapter Two tomorrow because I am a kind and gracious ruler. I'm sorry the chapter is so damn short. I promise the next one will be longer. Don't forget to comment, subscribe, et cetera, and don't forget to wreak havoc, my little killjoys.

Notes