It's Not a Fashion Statement

franks pov
The cameras flash in our faces as we walk down the runway, hand in hand, waving to the people on either side of us. I’m wearing the signature black lace suit that everyone seems to love, whilst gerard is in a silk black waistcoat and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a silk black tie (we have a theme going on here) with extremely tight black pants and god damn he looks fine. In fact, fine is an understatement; the way his ass sways as he walks, his mid-length silky black locks of soft shiny hair that fall in front of his face, his veiny arm muscles and amazing legs, his tight fitting waistcoat, all of it adds up to just so fucking hot it’s gonna be hard not to get a boner just looking at him. I can’t even describe how good he looks with words; he isn’t even comparable.
I try my hardest not to get distracted by his godly stature, but it’s not easy, I can’t take my eyes off him. I scan my eyes over him –again- taking in all his slight curves and admiring his muscles. His soft hand in mine, and his body heat radiating off him and to me outside in the late-night-Paris-chill, and his strong sweet smell of the cologne he used, mixed with his natural scent of… I don’t know…but it’s just perfect; makes me feel so warm inside knowing he’s mine, and I’m his.
I don’t think I’ll ever get over the fact that Gerard fucking Way is in love with me, and I’m in love with him.

The glass doors are held open for us, as gerard thanks the man holding it and shakes his hand, the man in instant shock that someone actually thanked him for his job, and wasn’t just another stuck up celebrity thinking they’re too good to do so. Well I’m not sure, but by his facial expression it’s certainly what it looked like.
I do that same and he thanks be back, sending us a grin as we walk past and through the doors.
“ah,well if it isn’t the one and only mr. way!” someone with a very strong French accent calls out, as gerard and I turn our heads to find a tall man dressed in a navy and blue suit.
Gerard’s eyes widen, as he nudges me on the shoulder and whispers “that’s Parlar fucking Joseph ohmygod-“
The man ushers us to move over to him, excitedly waving us towards him.
“I’m going to cry… look at him,” gerard continues, as we slowly make our way through the crowds of people towards him, gerard occasionally whispering dramatic figures of speech and unnecessary profanities in my ear.
“Frank I’m going to stop breathing OH MY GOD- its him! IT’S FUCKING HIM- frank hold me-“ I roll my eyes at gerard stupid exaggerating and grip onto his hand, I know how much this means to him to meet him, if it was one of my life long idols I’d be the same.
“Well, if it isn’t the oh so famous Gérard way,” he pronounces with some sort of accent on the gerard which makes me feel kind of uncomfortable because it doesn’t sound right, but also makes me snicker under my breath because it sounds fucking stupid.
Gerard shoots me a glare, as if to say ‘fuck this up I will murder you, now you better shut your mouth’, his eyes narrowing onto me and making me feel extremely uncomfortable.
“And the so beautiful, frank iero, whom I have heard much about. I couldn’t wait to meet you,” he pulls up my hand to his lips and kisses it, softly dropping my hand back to my side and then scanning my body with intense eyes.
I don’t really know what to do, isn’t it like polite to give them a kiss on the cheek or something in France? But what if it’s not and I kiss him on the cheek? That’s not going to go down well.
To my gratefulness, gerard already knows what to do and does the kiss on the cheek thing, and then parlar does the same to me. I hadn’t actually considered how awkward this could get, I mean it’s great for gerard, amazing in fact, but he’s been to so many events like this and he knows what to do, how to act what to say. When it all comes down to it, I’m just a socially awkward cocky post-punk small teenage boy, who can get extremely horny one minute then extremely pissed off the next, with absolutely no sophistication what so ever in a place with thousands of high end designers, tall, glamorous models, and millionaire socialites. How did I not consider any of this?

Gerard engages into conversation with parlar, occasionally sipping at his drink which he picked up at the door. Parlar keeps looking at me and it's weird... there’s something about him I just don’t like. I don’t know… he just seems so set up in everything he says, his fucking accent on gerard and the way he pronounces my last name (which in all fairness is probably correct as it’s a European name–well Italian, that’s close enough to French right?...) with all the vowels and shit I can’t even figure out. His fucking windy moustache that I just want to rip of his stupid stubbly face and shove up his money filled arse hole and his fucking creepy eyes that keep staring me down and the way he smiles when Gerard’s looking at him but the moment he looks away his smile turns to a stern straight up rude ignorant frown and god, he makes me uncomfortable. Of course, gerard is way too mesmerised to even notice any of these things.
I step closer to gerard, when suddenly I feel his hand on my back gently pushing me away from him.
I feel like my heart has stopped. I mean I know he only moved me away slightly, but still… he’d rather be in parlar stuck up arsed joseph’s best books rather than have anything to do with me.

Parlar joseph… what kind of name is that anyway? What ever it is it’s stupid. Just like him and his fucking curly ass moustache-
“Can I get you anything to drink, sugar?” parlar asks, with his cheesy ass forged smile and way too over enunciated accent.
I’m just about to say no when I notice gerard behind him giving me a glare and nodding his head.
“no- erm ye… great… coke will do,” I roll my eyes, as parlar nods and turns around to place our orders to a waiter.
“What the fuck was that?” gerard whisper-shouts, his eyes narrowing on me as he tugs me with a great force from the collar of my shirt closer to him.
How fucking dare he? Can he not see that this parlar guy is a complete act?
“Have some fucking manners, oh my god,” he growls, pushing me away and not daring to look me in the eyes.
“Not that he deserves them.” I scoff rolling my eyes, earning another glare off gerard. I’m pretty sure he was going to go fucking mental at my remark, but just before he could do anything parlar turns around, plastering that stupid tacky grin on his face.
“ah yes, here you go,” he hands me a coke and gerard another glass of water. I sip the syrupy sweet goodness and it feels so refreshing and relaxing.

After a while longer of gerard sucking Parlar’s ass (not literally, of course), another member joins us with a model that actually looks pretty young, which makes me feel a little more comfortable.
The man is wearing a full sparkling gold suit with a black shirt, leopard print shoes and a huge quiff in his hair. He holds his hand out for gerard and I to shake, grinning and flashing a dazzling smile.
“oui, bonjour monsieur Urie et monsieur Ross,” parlar starts, then doing the whole kiss cheek thing.
“Wonderful to meet you both, we’ve heard so much about you guys,” Urie states, shaking Gerard’s hand then mine. I did not at all expect him to be an American, I thought he was gonna be like Greek or something… I don’t know, maybe French, considering parlar was talking to them in fluent French.
“Oh god so sorry, my name is Brendon Urie, you can just call me Brendon or Urie I couldn’t give a damn, what ever you want,” he laughs, flicking his quiff back again and continuing.
“This is Ryan, Ross Ryan, Ryan Ross… what ever, we don’t care. Just don’t forget us, that’s all,” he laughs, clapping his hands together and booty bumping the Ryan kid. I am 100% sure he is currently high, or maybe he’s just always high, I’m not sure, but he’s fucking weird and I certainly am not going to forget him anytime soon. The Ryan guy looks sort of uncomfortable, probably what I look like right now. Actually no, he looks awkward, I just looked pissed off and cocky.

He starts talking to gerard, but gerard just seems to be interested in what parlar has to say.
I zone out until I decide I really need the toilet, I’ve drank 2 and a half glasses of coke in the last hour.
“Sorry,” I fake smile and continue,
“Can I ask where the toilets are?” I ask a random person talking in the group behind us; I don’t even want to look at gerard right now.
“Down the left corridor, door on your right, darling,” they smile at me, and point to the left corridor. I place my drink onto the table we’re standing by and leave to use the bathroom.

When I return, all three of the designers, including my apparent boyfriend, are all still engaged in a colloquy.
I pick up my drink and decide to stand next to that Ryan guy, he actually seems nice. Plus, I don’t think gerard even noticed my 5-minute absence, so there’s no point in trying to join in.
I take a sip of my drink and instantly it tastes sort of off.
I shrug it off and take another small sip, this time, the drink tasting like normal.
I take a big gulp, and everything is perfectly fine, until a few gulps later and I feel my stomach start to churn and my head feels empty and hollow.
I look back into the glass, but my eyes can’t seem to focus on anything and everything seems blurred. I blink a few times, hoping it’s nothing, but it just gets worse. I feel my head start spinning and my knees get weak, my hands shaking in front of me.
“Gee… gerard I-“
“What?” he questions impatiently, turning around sharply and making me jump.
“I think my drink was… I think- I think it was spiked?” it came out more as a question than a statement, which in return gerard just laughed coldly.
“Don’t be an idiot. This isn’t the place where anyone would do such a thing. Look around, do you really think anyone here would actually bother to drug you?” he emphasises the ‘you’, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. Gerard just downgraded me, called me an idiot, and laughed at me. I feel like I could throw up, A, because of whatever shit was in my drink, and B, because of how gerard was acting. I feel like my heart has completely stopped, and my heavy eyes fill up with tears.
“Have you heard this parlar?!” gerard exclaims, laughing and shaking his head. This is not gerard, no matter whom he is with; this is not how gerard would act, ever.
I don’t think?
“Sorry Frankie darling, but I can guarantee your drink was not spiked,” parlar states calmly, giving me a sympathetic smile. A fake one though. I can see through this fucking liar, I hate him… he’s changed gerard completely, in what? 2 minutes?
“Then why do I feel as though- as… like I’m gonna… pass out?” I try to talk, but my shaking body and the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach makes me loose concentration on what I’m trying to say and instead it comes out as a barely audible stutter.
“Come with me, I’ll get you something. I’ll be back in a moment boys,” parlar says, smiling at Brendon and gerard, as he rolls his eyes and props me up on his shoulder. I notice gerard laugh, whilst Brendon is frowning and exchanging a worried look with Ryan, who is looking back and forth between Brendon and I, biting his lip and a cautious look in his eyes.

I can barely even walk anymore; I have to lean on parlar if I want to make it across the room and out of view from everyone, as much as I’d rather not be in contact with this scum, I don’t really have a choice.
He sits me down on a sofa, as I instantly feel my head droop and I can’t seem to hold it up. Everything is spinning, and my whole body is shaking.
“I’ll be back in a moment, stay here,” not like I can move anyway. I lay myself down onto the sofa, my stomach stinging and churning with a pain so bad I can barely contain the cry I so desperately need to let out. I curl myself up and take in a deep breath, trying to get some air into my lungs. Another pain rumbles up inside my stomach, and it’s so awful I feel as though I have been shot, or punched internally. I curl myself up even tighter and the pain starts again, but this time it’s even worse and I break down into sobs, trying my hardest not to scream out in agony. The door opens again, and I’m actually relieved that parlar is back, hopefully with something to help this pain go.
“Ah, finally,”
But it wasn’t the thick French accent I expected.

Notes

yeah so i'm just gonna leave u guys here with all this drama whilst i go on holiday for a week. so ur gonna have to wait until then
wow much mystery ((((mysterious vibes)))
sos for typos and awful punctuation im too lazy to edit it
WHO DO U THINK IT IS?