TW// negative/depression, self harm

Frank POV

It’s been 3days since I saw Gee. In fact 3 days since I last spoke to them. They’re offline and not picking up their phone. I’ve been concerned, pissed off, apathetic but now I’m really fucking worried. What if they did something stupid? What if they, I don’t know, committed a crime on a whim, not a big one, I mean Gee could never hurt anyone but what if they shoplifted or something and now they’re sat in a prison cell? What if they got hurt and are in hospital? What if they’re hurt and no one knows, I’m not entirely sure their father would notice them missing, what if they’re laying in a ditch with a broken leg? What if they’re laying in a ditch dea-
My phone rings, snapping me back to reality. I grab it and answer quickly, knowing it’s Gee from the ringtone.
“Are you okay dude?” I exclaim as I answer.
“Yeah yeah” they murmur “I just wanted to call to apologise, you know for being a dick and thank you for having me. Okay bye”
And with that they hang up.
I immediately compile a text, frustrated at the keyboard, cursing under my breath. What did that even mean? Oh and there’s the tiny fact we literally fucking kissed.
“Gee we need to talk you’re not a dick at all” the monotone voice reads back to me eventually. It beeps a moment later “Gee 11:54: Course I’m not”
Fuck this. I call him again not really expecting an answer.
“What?” they snap before apologising.
“How are you?”
“Shit”
“Oh Gee, hang in there, I wish I could like make it all better for you”
“You do?”
“Of course”
“Thanks” they murmur, sounding a bit more positive. I’m guessing the low of their bipolar is well and truly set in now.
“You taken your meds?” I ask.
“Yeah, yesterday and today”
“Well done. Do you wanna come round again sometime? I mean this place is free 24/7”
“Maybe” they hum “Frank?”
“Yeah?”
“Nevermind”
“what?” I whine, before a pause.
“I fucked up” they admit. Suddenly I feel myself getting angry.
“What? So I was just another bipolar impulse?”
I hear a frustrated hiss and a sudden crash as the phone goes dead. I call them over and over again but just get greeted with “This persons phone is currently unavailable”. I leave tons of asks on their tumblr, realising the only posts have been queued ones from fuck knows how long ago, but all to no avail. I lay on my bed and feel tears run down my cheeks. Before I know it, I’m sobbing. I can’t pinpoint why exactly but I can’t help it. Will I ever even get to talk to Gee again?
“Frank, what’s up!?” I hear my mum exclaim. Didn’t even notice her come in. I feel her put her arm around me and I frantically wipe away my tears, praying no more come out. I hate crying around people.
“What is it Frank?” she presses.
“Nothing” I mumble.
“It’s clearly not ‘nothing’”
Reluctantly, I realise she’s not gonna drop this.
“Okay, you know you said Gee uh likes me and I maybe like them back” I start shakily. She hums. “Well we kissed”
“That’s cool but why do I feel like there’s a but coming?” she replies and I try to figure out what to say.
“You know I said they have a few problems”
She hums, encouraging me to continue.
“Well one of them is bipolar and they got really hyper when we went out and it was quite fun actually but like they stayed up all night because of all the energy”
“You should've told me”
“It wasn’t my place”
“I’m your mum, Frank, you can tell me anything regardless of whether you think it’s your place or not”
“Whatever. Anyway, as we said goodbye they kissed me, like properly kissed and I did kiss back but they ran off. And until a few minutes ago that’s the last I heard from them because they weren’t answering their phone or anything and oh my god I was so worried”
“What did they say?”
“Well now they’re really depressed, like the hyper has passed and they regret everything and they think they were a dick and they said they fucked up like talking about that kiss, mum I don’t think they meant the kiss” I cry, my voice wavering.
“Shh, it’s okay” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me. I hum slightly as I breathe in her scent.
“It’s not though is it?” I sigh.
“Well, you don’t need them anyway, you don’t have to take on all their problems either but you probably misinterpreted it"
"Yeah well whether I did or didn't they're not gonna be with me" I sob.
"Why not?"
"I ugh I'm such a shit person I got angry, and I uh like shouted, not shouted but like went ‘Oh what so I’m just another bipolar impulse’ and then I heard them make a noise and a crash and the phone went dead and oh fuck I can’t get through and I don’t think they’re okay, like what if they hurt themself, like their dad seems like a douche so he wouldn’t really stop much, I’m really scared oh shit I’ve fucked up bad”
I feel my mum stroke my hair as I gnaw my lip.
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m sure they’re fine and if not it’s not your fault”
“I’m so scared, what if, fuck, they said they’ve been suicidal, what if they-”
“Hey, you’re jumping to conclusions” she reminds me. I guess I am. I sit up straighter and take a few deep breaths “Okay?” she murmurs, tucking my hair behind my ears. I nod “You really love them don’t you?”
“Yeah, I mean I think so” I reply “I’ve never felt this way towards anyone before, like everything was all normal and now suddenly they’ve come into my life and I’ve been feeling things I haven’t felt since I was like 13”
“Ah, that’s it Frank, that’s what’s known as a first love, all the signs are there” she says with a slight giggle. I smile and relax a little, my head a bit clearer “Ooh, my little Frank’s growing up!”
“Go away, I’m 16” I groan but with a bittersweet smile “It’s not meant to be like this though is it? It’s meant to be all cute eye contact and smooth pick up lines and kisses on a beach at sunset, not whatever this is, if this is even anything”
“Frank, love and life and all that isn’t meant to be anything, it is what it is and you can’t predict that” she tells me with a hint of sadness in her voice “As you said earlier ‘there’s no such thing as normal’ and we all just have to work with what we’ve got and what you’ve got is a cute if complicated kid who is making no effect to hide the fact they think you’re jesus, so run with it”
“Thanks”

Gerard POV

I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. I count all the little marks, even though I already have numerous times before. 1073 of them. 1072 if you count the two little dots that touch as one. Sometimes the light shines in a certain way which creates the illusion of 874 but one time I stood on my bed and checked and there's definitely only 1073. I’m not sure how long I’ve been lying here. I want to die. I’m gross. Frank hates me. My father hates me. I hate me. I miss Mikey. It’s Monday and I’m meant to be at school, just everything feels way too heavy to even try to move and my father’s making no effort to make sure I’m there. I want to call up Frank and tell him how much I love him, but he hates me. I also broke my phone. I fucked up, I’ve fucked everything up, I always fuck everything up. I need some sort of catharsis, emotional release. I need to vent for hours, maybe rant on tumblr. But I’ve already drawn enough attention to myself, made myself look like enough of an idiot, any post would just annoy everyone. And if I somehow managed to gather up the emotional energy to open the laptop and begin writing, all I’d be able to do is stare at the blank screen, able to get nothing out. I sort of feel nothing but I sort of want to feel nothing but I sort of want to feel something. I hate myself. I’m so fucking angry at myself. I twist my hands around eachother, the sensation helping a tiny bit as I lay staring at the ceiling. By accident, my fingers find themselves gliding across my wrists, across my scars. Scars. Drawer. Blades. Perfect.
I take out my anger, my self hatred on myself. Punishing myself for being such a dumb fuck. Retarded looney. Can’t control my own fucking emotions. Can’t be a normal gender, get in a normal relationship. Can’t go a day without fucking something up. I fucking hate myself. Hate hate hate myself. I fucking want myself dead. I’m a gross waste of space. Gross. Gross. Gross. Revolting. Vulgar. Repulsive. Disgusting. Vile. Hideous. Scum. Sickening. Gross.
And I feel something.
Two birds with one stone.
Eventually, I bring my arm up to my chest, toss the blade back in the drawer and go back to counting the marks on the ceiling.

***

“Gerard!” My dad hollers suddenly, snapping me out of my stupor. I wince at the use of my birth name. I think he’s watching telly, I can hear the buzzing. Probably the grand prix, that started around about now “Gerard!”
I remember I have to reply.
“Yes!” I call down, prying myself out from under the sheets.
“Get the door!”
Oh right. I trudge downstairs, not giving a thought to who it might be. I open the door, expecting to see a someone trying to sell something.
“Gee?” Frank murmurs. I look at him, he looks dishevelled and maybe a bit angry. I knew he hates me.
“Y-yeah” I get out, preparing myself for whatever I’m about to receive.
“Are you okay?”
“Um yeah”
“You left a pencil, it looks kinda important” he tells me, handing me my 3h art pencil.
“Thanks”
We stand awkwardly for a moment.
“I think we should talk” he suggests. I frown slightly, I don’t disagree, I just wonder why.
“Gerard, Who is it?” my dad yells.
“A friend dropping something off” I reply. Maybe I should have lied. Oops.
“I hope that friend is female and more than a friend, you’re about the age boys should get their first girlfriend” he tells me.
“Tell him he’s about the age men should stick their misogynistic cisnormative heteronormative views where the sun doesn’t shine” Frank hisses but I shush him quickly “Anyway, why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
“It broke”
“So that was the crash?”
I nod and mumble an apology.
“No, I’m sorry” he says firmly.
“Why?”
“For misunderstanding and getting annoyed, I just care about you a lot”
“Why?”
“I think I love you” he whispers, snaking his hand down my arm, dangerously close to today’s self inflicted wounds, reaching for my hand. I squeeze it, praying my dad doesn’t catch us. Not that he’s likely moved his lazy ass off the couch all day.
“I think I love you too” I murmur.
I gulp as he leans in slowly, a tiny bit off centre. I close the gap, pressing a soft kisses on his chapped lips.
“And if you ever dream of hurting yourself again, I will not hesitate to march round here myself and kiss you until you feel better” he growls softly into the kiss. I can’t seem to do anything other than kiss back harder.

Notes

hey, sorry for lack of updates, too tired to explain oops 3:41am <3

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