The Reunion (Frerard Oneshot)

I tried to look nice, but it didn't really work and it didn't really matter.
I stood in front of the mirror and smoothed down my greasy hair. God, Gerard, I thought, when's the last time you took a goddamn shower?
Straightening my red tie on top of my black shirt, I walked out the door and into my past.
As soon as the car jolted to a stop in front of Belleville High School, I knew this was a mistake. My first instinct was to book it and just ditch the reunion. That was also my second and third thought.
After a moment of my head on the steering wheel and a nervous sweat creeping up on my upper lip, I finally managed to calm myself down.
It's okay. You haven't seen these people in ten years--maybe they're not that bad anymore.
Anymore. Like that would ever happen.
Rows of BMWs and Corvettes were parked in the lot, a huge change from my junkyard Toyota, which made me all the more nervous. My classmates were apparently successful and rich. What was I?
I was in a failed band. My Chemical Romance had never taken off; our first record was a flop. I was a disaster. After years alcoholism, I had managed to ease up but I never recovered. I was alone. I hadn't gone on a date since my last girlfriend, which was the end of senior year. I was depressed. The antidepressants weren't doing shit.
What was I?
A total, complete failure.
And here I was, walking up the stairs to the four years of taunting and physical violence I had tried so hard to forget. I kept my head down, my hair falling in my face, in case I wasn't remembered. Then I could run.
Music was playing, I could hear it coming from the gymnasium. I wandered to the source of the sound. A sign painted, "CLASS OF '95" hung limply over the entrance. Blue lighting set the stage for what was going to be a horrible night.
No one's head turned when I moseyed onto the former torture hall. Dark memories of dodgeball and running laps flooded my way, but I did my best to push them back.
Everyone was too busy talking to one another that I didn't make a ripple. It's not like I expected to.
I poured myself some punch and wandered aimlessly for a few minutes until I bumped into a tall blonde woman wearing a gold dress and black pumps.
"Oh, I'm sorry-" I started quietly.
"It's no pro-Gerard?" The woman said in shock as she turned to face me.
"Julie?" I was appalled. I hadn't seen her since I took her to a Green Day concert, where she took my beer, stole my car, and ran over my foot on the way out.
"Oh my god, Gerard, you look great," she smiled almost forcefully. I most certainly did not.
"So do you," I responded, making a feeble attempt of conversation. She most certainly did not. Her makeup was gaudy, like she was trying to hide, and her face looked sunken in. But what else was new?
"Hey, I need to apologize. I really didn't mean to hurt you, the night we went to the concert..."
The rest of Julie's words were drowned out by my own thoughts as a small figure approached. His dark hair was flipped to one side and his smile was a bit too big.
He spoke before he noticed me. "Hey, Julie, do you wanna-Gerard?"
I nodded. "Hey, Frank."
"Wow, I'm surprised you came tonight. Everyone said you wouldn't be here. I'm just stunned that you would want to even be here, after what happened and all."
I inhaled and exhaled deeply, letting the sour memories take their course before releasing them into the loud air with what little self control I had.
"Yeah, well, I'm here." I rolled my lips into my mouth and gave a wry smile.
Frank gave a sympathetic smile an took me aside. "Listen, Gee-"
My jaw clenched. "Don't call me that, Frank."
Hurt flashed in his eyes and his eyebrows furrowed. "Okay. Listen, Gerard, I'm sorry. I really am."
This was what I wanted to hear for ten years. I wanted to forgive him, to fall in his arms and never get up. But I knew better. I didn't know exactly how to react. "Keep your apology," I said sharply. My own words surprised me.
They surprised Frank, too. His lips formed a line and his bright eyes dimmed. "I know you're mad," he managed to say after a while. "And I know that you probably don't want to speak to me anymore-"
"Congratulations, Iero. You're right." I hadn't called him by his last name since grade school. "Whatever was between us, whatever we had, it's over. It's gone. You ruined it." I ran my fingers through my hair and closed my eyes. "I'm done taking responsibility for your bullshit."
"I understand you're mad. I shouldn't have done-what I did." His eyes flashed back and forth, trying to read my expression.
"Are you really that much of a coward?" I blurted. "Can you not even say what you did to your victim?
Frank inhaled suddenly as if he were holding back what he were really feeling. He quickly took me by the arm and led me into the parking lot. I followed without a word, hoping he had already understood how pissed I was.
"Okay, Gerard." He let go of me. "I'm sorry. I used you. I wanted to make a girl jealous. I wanted to trick you. I wanted to prove to these stupid, immature guys that I was cool. What I did wasn't cool. I should have never gotten involved with you." He took a deep breath and shook his head. "What you don't understand, though, is that after a while, I really did start to like you."
I chortled in disbelief. "Sure."
"No, I mean it." Frank had a look on his face that was somewhere between regret and begging. "I started to fall in love with you. You're intelligent and funny and artistic. You're kind and sweet and handsome. I wouldn't admit it to myself, I couldn't. But I knew it was true. I was in love with you."
Nothing could have prepared me for the next thing he was about to say.
"And I still am."
By then, tears were formed in my eyes and were streaking down his cheeks.
"Frank..." I started, my words catching. "I don't know if I can..."
"I know you probably can never forgive me. I made a fool of you and I broke your heart." Images flashed before my eyes, rapidly paced memories of running down a fluorescent-lit hallway to the restroom, unable to control the waterfall from my eyes. The stares of my classmates, laughing and pointing, yelling daggers into my heart.
"Faggot!"
"Pathetic idiot!"
"How could he fucking fall for that?!"
"What a gullible loser!"
And the one image I could never forget, burned into my head forever. Something that would go with me to my grave. Frank's face. Not apologetic, precisely. More like he was sorry for me. Not sorry for what he'd done. Sorry that I was so stupid.
Frank took my hands. I couldn't hear him. Maybe he wasn't talking. I couldn't tell. "I love you," his lips read.
My voice was shaky. "I don't know anymore, Frank."
He handed me a slip of paper with ten numbers on it. By now, his voice was audible. "Call me when you do know." He shut his eyes tightly. "I am so sorry."
He wiped his face and walked back inside. I couldn't go back in there. I walked to my car and drove off, away from the torturous memories and painful heartache. I would never turn back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week had passed since the reunion. I hadn't called Frank yet. I still couldn't make up my mind.
Very unsteadily, I picked up my phone and dialed his number. And before I could decide against it, I had hit send.
"Hello?" The familiar New Jersey accent hit my ears like pleasant daggers.
I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn't allow me.
"Hello?" the voice repeated. "Gerard?"
I swallowed thickly. "Frank?" I asked, trying not to choke.
"Yeah?" he responded, almost as if someone had hit him in the gut.
"I forgive you."

Notes

This is just a oneshot I totally forgot about. It's been on Wattpad for a while now but I thought I'd put it on here. :)
xoxo
gerweird