You Said You Read Me Like A Book But The Pages All Are Torn And Frayed
Chapter 6
Gerard POV
I open a notebook I brought. I’m trying Mikey’s idea. It’s 7am on Monday, I slept all weekend and am actually feeling decent. I’m gonna fill a journal with whatever I’m feeling and thinking about, inevitably Frank. I’ll do it in the morning and hopefully I’ll exhaust all my thoughts and emotions by the time it’s time for school and hopefully they won’t interfere with my professionalism.
I stare blankly at the page. I have no fucking clue what to write. Whatever my exact thoughts are.
I have no fucking clue what to write. Okay that sounds stupid. It’s just Mikey said I should put whatever it is I’m thinking about and how I have no clue is exactly what i’m thinking. I’m glad Mikey knows, I don’t know what the fuck I’d do without him. Honestly his brother has been a runaway, alcoholic, mental patient, arsehole, homewrecker and now pedophile and he’s still not ditched me? I’m not really a pedophile. I mean I am. But I’m not. I’m not a 40 year old man following 13 year old girls through the streets wanting nothing but a fuck. I’m not like the predators you hear about on the news. I love Frank, I’d never want to hurt him. I mean 17 and 24 isn’t thaaat outrageous. In just over a month he’ll be 18. That’s a legal adult. 2 legal adults, nothing wrong with that. Plus in a couple of years it won’t even sound weird. Like because his age has ‘teen’ on the end it sounds worse. 20 and 26. 21 and 27. That’s nothing. 32 and 38. Completely normal. I guess in the eyes of the law that’s not the case. Fuck the law. I feel nothing but love, even if it is under unfortunate circumstances. How can you feel anything other than love towards Frank? How could you bully him? Okay, so he’s gay and I guess the world is full of homophobes but that’s a whole other issue. And he stutters. But whats wrong with that? If anything he has an oddly pretty voice it’s just different. Why can’t people tolerate difference? You can’t help who you are, both physically and mentally and little quirks aren’t something to be ashamed of but instead should be embraced. Why can’t people let Frank be? It makes me so fucking angry. Society’s standards of beauty or the norm have warped our minds into thinking only a certain type of voice or appearance are acceptable and that’s so fucking stupid because if you strip away all the indoctrinated views and look at many people with a fresh pair of eyes you will find more beauty than you could ever see before. Why is the repetition of syllables even considered ugly or something to take the piss out of? It isn’t a flaw it’s just a thing that exists. Okay of course it causes problems and of course it’s fucking hard to sometimes find getting even your own name out impossible but surely if anything that struggle should mean people view Frank even better? I want him to know he’s beautiful. Like even everything he views as a flaw, even his stutter has an odd beauty to it. Like it sounds sort of pretty. But not sexually or as fetishisation because that is fucking gross. It’s just an inherent part of who you are that okay can make life a little harder doesn’t have to be considered ugly. Frank should be allowed to go ‘okay this is me, it’s different, it’s difficult but goddamnit it’s a part of me I can’t change and that makes it fucking beautiful’ without abuse. Why would anyone even want to hurt him? How could you bring yourself to hurt him? I hardly know him but I know he’s perfectly imperfect and motherfucking strong. He’s been through so much shit, I’m not entirely sure but I think his Mum is ill and in and out of hospital, I’m not sure whether to bring it up or not. He’s never done anything to hurt anyone I mean he takes it all out on himself. But he would never dream of bullying anyone. Fucking hell he’s gorgeous. He’s kind natured but has a strength to him, like you know he wouldn’t hurt a fly but you can also tell he’s plotting those who are arsehole’s murder. I’m not sure if he’s fucking adorable or fucking sexy. Or both. I think both. His eyes are a gorgeous hazel I’ve noticed. The light is behind me when I sit on his desk in the art room and when he looks up at me they catch the light and glow a golden colour. It makes my heart flutter. And how his eyebrows accentuate his face, never a hair out of place. And his motherfucking lip ring. I don’t think they are even allowed but hell I am not gonna call him out on it. And how he has a tiny smile that makes it shift slightly.
I go on like this for 3 pages, just in depth descriptions of everything about Frank I adore. Mikey said to write until I’m completely unable to write anymore. Eventually, I close the book, I’m nowhere near done but it’s time to go.
The day goes quickly, I have a kid for therapy first thing but I just nod and hum as they vent. I’m still on a slight comedown from the cocktail of substances that made their way into my body on Friday night so I just tell most of my classes to do any leftover homework. Mikey and Frank appear in my office at lunchtime, we chat for a bit. It’s easier having Mikey know about my little crush and surprisingly it’s easier to talk to said little crush. I don’t actively try to block out the thoughts completely I just avoid focusing on them and save them for later. I do act closer to Frank than other students, but I keep it professional. I wouldn’t risk taking him to starbucks again or giving him a ride but I say hi to him in the corridor. We reschedule our next appointment for Friday although I worry about how awkward it’ll be.
Frank POV
Holy shit I fancy Gerard Way. And that’s totally not why I’m on his facebook even though I haven’t used it for months. He has it set to friends of friends and because I’m friends with Mikey this means I can see a lot of his posts. He intrigues me, today he seemed all distant and formal, not to mention the dark circles under his eyes. I can tell he isn’t the average teacher and even if it’s an invasion of privacy I can’t help but want to find out why. His facebook doesn’t give away much, he hardly uses it, most of his timeline’s just things others have tagged him in. He shares a lot of comic related stuff and there’s one or two photos of his own art which is fucking amazing There aren’t many but there’s some selfies on there which I immediately save to my phone and computer. I scroll back to a few years ago where I see some family photos from christmas. I giggle at how different Mikey looks. There’s one photo I think their mum took and put on facebook of them both asleep together which I audibly squeak at before giggling at his comments of ‘Mum XD Y wud u put that on here I h8 u’ from 8 years ago. Another is of Mikey opening a present and Gerard sat looking at him expectantly, his eyes wide with excitement. But there’s also clips his mates tagged him in, clips of him drunk at parties or mucking around. He never struck me as a party animal, in fact quite the opposite. Most of them make me uncomfortable, it’s weird seeing the man I met a few years ago, my teacher falling over playing kickball or losing his pants and blaming it on ‘womens slacks’. I click off feeling like I’ve gone too far and decide to go take a shower.
The next day seems to last forever. I suffer through lessons, hang with Mikey, chat to Gerard for a bit with him, trudge home, look out for my mum. She has sickle cell anemia, normally it only affects black people but because we have italian heritage it got passed down to her. My Dad works long hours, sometimes even days away on a job, I hardly see him so I’m kinda on my own with mum. I googled it and the average life span of someone with sickle cell is 48, she’s just turned 40 and the thought of being without her scares the shit out of me. I don’t talk to anyone about it, firstly, I honestly don’t want any more fucking sympathy, secondly, this goddamn stutter means that as soon as I get remotely emotional I get choked up and the words get blocked out.
I wake up on Wednesday morning, already drained from the week but relieved it’s halfway over. I repeat the routine I’ve formed, enjoying the time with Gerard. I watch as he talks to me, to my disappointment, average teacher student small talk but that doesn’t affect how transfixed I am by him. I’ve been a lot less uncomfortable around him, talking more freely, it feels good. Before I know it, the lunch bell rings and I suffer through a shitty ass geography lesson. I walk home relaxed, glad to soon be able to chill on the sofa in front of the tv.
“H-hey m-mum” I call out as I open the front door. No answer. I begin to panic. This can’t be good “M-mmum?”
I race inside and can hear noise upstairs, my mum crying out in pain. I hate this, I hate seeing my mum like this and a part of me wants to run straight back out. I run up the stairs, two at a time before seeing my mum sobbing on the landing.
“C-c-crisis?”
She gets out a ‘yeah’ before moaning in pain.
“I-it’s o-ok-kay” I try to comfort, moving her hair out her eyes.
“Fra-” she starts, cutting herself off with a whine “sorry”
“D-don’t b-be”
“phone”
I leap up and grab it, dialling 999 before thrusting it into my mum’s hand. Even with the excruciating pain she has better talking skills than me.
“ambulance. sic-FUCK sickle cell crisis” she cries into the phone before giving our address. I watch anxiously, nibbling my lip ring, my vision going blurry with tears. I hold her hand, offering a sad smile but knowing there’s not much else I can do apart from wait for the ambulance to arrive. After about 10 minutes I hear sirens coming down the street and run and open the door before the paramedics rush in.
“Up there?” one asks pointing to the stairs. I muster a nod and slip into the corner, not wanting to get in the way. In a blur my mum is put on a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance as I zone out.
“You coming kid?”
“You alright here?”
I shake and nod my heart in all the right places and before I know it I’m shivering in an empty house. It’s not like this stuff hasn’t happened before, it happens on a regular basis, but that doesn’t make it any less painful to watch. I know she’s gonna be fine, she always is, all they do is pump her full of morphine to ease the pain until it passes. But I can’t help but feel my chest ache at the amount of pain she was in.
(TW// self harm)
I feel myself becoming increasingly uneasy and immediately I know exactly what I want. Pain as well. Once the thought of my blades upstairs makes it’s way into my head, I latch onto it. My skin itches to be cut, despite everything on my mind the only thing I can think about is self harm. I can’t. I won’t. Fuck Frank.
(You’re good :) Frank has urges but doesn’t act upon them)
I get out my phone and compose a text. My dad isn’t home for hours and I need human company.
Me: Mikey, can I come round? My mum’s just been taken to hospital again and the house feels all horrible and empty
Immediately my phone beeps and I have a reply.
Mikey: Shit Frank of course. Well, I’m just leaving to go to g’s, he’s at school late today but I have a key to his flat, you’re welcome to join me if we meet along the way
I open a notebook I brought. I’m trying Mikey’s idea. It’s 7am on Monday, I slept all weekend and am actually feeling decent. I’m gonna fill a journal with whatever I’m feeling and thinking about, inevitably Frank. I’ll do it in the morning and hopefully I’ll exhaust all my thoughts and emotions by the time it’s time for school and hopefully they won’t interfere with my professionalism.
I stare blankly at the page. I have no fucking clue what to write. Whatever my exact thoughts are.
I have no fucking clue what to write. Okay that sounds stupid. It’s just Mikey said I should put whatever it is I’m thinking about and how I have no clue is exactly what i’m thinking. I’m glad Mikey knows, I don’t know what the fuck I’d do without him. Honestly his brother has been a runaway, alcoholic, mental patient, arsehole, homewrecker and now pedophile and he’s still not ditched me? I’m not really a pedophile. I mean I am. But I’m not. I’m not a 40 year old man following 13 year old girls through the streets wanting nothing but a fuck. I’m not like the predators you hear about on the news. I love Frank, I’d never want to hurt him. I mean 17 and 24 isn’t thaaat outrageous. In just over a month he’ll be 18. That’s a legal adult. 2 legal adults, nothing wrong with that. Plus in a couple of years it won’t even sound weird. Like because his age has ‘teen’ on the end it sounds worse. 20 and 26. 21 and 27. That’s nothing. 32 and 38. Completely normal. I guess in the eyes of the law that’s not the case. Fuck the law. I feel nothing but love, even if it is under unfortunate circumstances. How can you feel anything other than love towards Frank? How could you bully him? Okay, so he’s gay and I guess the world is full of homophobes but that’s a whole other issue. And he stutters. But whats wrong with that? If anything he has an oddly pretty voice it’s just different. Why can’t people tolerate difference? You can’t help who you are, both physically and mentally and little quirks aren’t something to be ashamed of but instead should be embraced. Why can’t people let Frank be? It makes me so fucking angry. Society’s standards of beauty or the norm have warped our minds into thinking only a certain type of voice or appearance are acceptable and that’s so fucking stupid because if you strip away all the indoctrinated views and look at many people with a fresh pair of eyes you will find more beauty than you could ever see before. Why is the repetition of syllables even considered ugly or something to take the piss out of? It isn’t a flaw it’s just a thing that exists. Okay of course it causes problems and of course it’s fucking hard to sometimes find getting even your own name out impossible but surely if anything that struggle should mean people view Frank even better? I want him to know he’s beautiful. Like even everything he views as a flaw, even his stutter has an odd beauty to it. Like it sounds sort of pretty. But not sexually or as fetishisation because that is fucking gross. It’s just an inherent part of who you are that okay can make life a little harder doesn’t have to be considered ugly. Frank should be allowed to go ‘okay this is me, it’s different, it’s difficult but goddamnit it’s a part of me I can’t change and that makes it fucking beautiful’ without abuse. Why would anyone even want to hurt him? How could you bring yourself to hurt him? I hardly know him but I know he’s perfectly imperfect and motherfucking strong. He’s been through so much shit, I’m not entirely sure but I think his Mum is ill and in and out of hospital, I’m not sure whether to bring it up or not. He’s never done anything to hurt anyone I mean he takes it all out on himself. But he would never dream of bullying anyone. Fucking hell he’s gorgeous. He’s kind natured but has a strength to him, like you know he wouldn’t hurt a fly but you can also tell he’s plotting those who are arsehole’s murder. I’m not sure if he’s fucking adorable or fucking sexy. Or both. I think both. His eyes are a gorgeous hazel I’ve noticed. The light is behind me when I sit on his desk in the art room and when he looks up at me they catch the light and glow a golden colour. It makes my heart flutter. And how his eyebrows accentuate his face, never a hair out of place. And his motherfucking lip ring. I don’t think they are even allowed but hell I am not gonna call him out on it. And how he has a tiny smile that makes it shift slightly.
I go on like this for 3 pages, just in depth descriptions of everything about Frank I adore. Mikey said to write until I’m completely unable to write anymore. Eventually, I close the book, I’m nowhere near done but it’s time to go.
The day goes quickly, I have a kid for therapy first thing but I just nod and hum as they vent. I’m still on a slight comedown from the cocktail of substances that made their way into my body on Friday night so I just tell most of my classes to do any leftover homework. Mikey and Frank appear in my office at lunchtime, we chat for a bit. It’s easier having Mikey know about my little crush and surprisingly it’s easier to talk to said little crush. I don’t actively try to block out the thoughts completely I just avoid focusing on them and save them for later. I do act closer to Frank than other students, but I keep it professional. I wouldn’t risk taking him to starbucks again or giving him a ride but I say hi to him in the corridor. We reschedule our next appointment for Friday although I worry about how awkward it’ll be.
Frank POV
Holy shit I fancy Gerard Way. And that’s totally not why I’m on his facebook even though I haven’t used it for months. He has it set to friends of friends and because I’m friends with Mikey this means I can see a lot of his posts. He intrigues me, today he seemed all distant and formal, not to mention the dark circles under his eyes. I can tell he isn’t the average teacher and even if it’s an invasion of privacy I can’t help but want to find out why. His facebook doesn’t give away much, he hardly uses it, most of his timeline’s just things others have tagged him in. He shares a lot of comic related stuff and there’s one or two photos of his own art which is fucking amazing There aren’t many but there’s some selfies on there which I immediately save to my phone and computer. I scroll back to a few years ago where I see some family photos from christmas. I giggle at how different Mikey looks. There’s one photo I think their mum took and put on facebook of them both asleep together which I audibly squeak at before giggling at his comments of ‘Mum XD Y wud u put that on here I h8 u’ from 8 years ago. Another is of Mikey opening a present and Gerard sat looking at him expectantly, his eyes wide with excitement. But there’s also clips his mates tagged him in, clips of him drunk at parties or mucking around. He never struck me as a party animal, in fact quite the opposite. Most of them make me uncomfortable, it’s weird seeing the man I met a few years ago, my teacher falling over playing kickball or losing his pants and blaming it on ‘womens slacks’. I click off feeling like I’ve gone too far and decide to go take a shower.
The next day seems to last forever. I suffer through lessons, hang with Mikey, chat to Gerard for a bit with him, trudge home, look out for my mum. She has sickle cell anemia, normally it only affects black people but because we have italian heritage it got passed down to her. My Dad works long hours, sometimes even days away on a job, I hardly see him so I’m kinda on my own with mum. I googled it and the average life span of someone with sickle cell is 48, she’s just turned 40 and the thought of being without her scares the shit out of me. I don’t talk to anyone about it, firstly, I honestly don’t want any more fucking sympathy, secondly, this goddamn stutter means that as soon as I get remotely emotional I get choked up and the words get blocked out.
I wake up on Wednesday morning, already drained from the week but relieved it’s halfway over. I repeat the routine I’ve formed, enjoying the time with Gerard. I watch as he talks to me, to my disappointment, average teacher student small talk but that doesn’t affect how transfixed I am by him. I’ve been a lot less uncomfortable around him, talking more freely, it feels good. Before I know it, the lunch bell rings and I suffer through a shitty ass geography lesson. I walk home relaxed, glad to soon be able to chill on the sofa in front of the tv.
“H-hey m-mum” I call out as I open the front door. No answer. I begin to panic. This can’t be good “M-mmum?”
I race inside and can hear noise upstairs, my mum crying out in pain. I hate this, I hate seeing my mum like this and a part of me wants to run straight back out. I run up the stairs, two at a time before seeing my mum sobbing on the landing.
“C-c-crisis?”
She gets out a ‘yeah’ before moaning in pain.
“I-it’s o-ok-kay” I try to comfort, moving her hair out her eyes.
“Fra-” she starts, cutting herself off with a whine “sorry”
“D-don’t b-be”
“phone”
I leap up and grab it, dialling 999 before thrusting it into my mum’s hand. Even with the excruciating pain she has better talking skills than me.
“ambulance. sic-FUCK sickle cell crisis” she cries into the phone before giving our address. I watch anxiously, nibbling my lip ring, my vision going blurry with tears. I hold her hand, offering a sad smile but knowing there’s not much else I can do apart from wait for the ambulance to arrive. After about 10 minutes I hear sirens coming down the street and run and open the door before the paramedics rush in.
“Up there?” one asks pointing to the stairs. I muster a nod and slip into the corner, not wanting to get in the way. In a blur my mum is put on a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance as I zone out.
“You coming kid?”
“You alright here?”
I shake and nod my heart in all the right places and before I know it I’m shivering in an empty house. It’s not like this stuff hasn’t happened before, it happens on a regular basis, but that doesn’t make it any less painful to watch. I know she’s gonna be fine, she always is, all they do is pump her full of morphine to ease the pain until it passes. But I can’t help but feel my chest ache at the amount of pain she was in.
(TW// self harm)
I feel myself becoming increasingly uneasy and immediately I know exactly what I want. Pain as well. Once the thought of my blades upstairs makes it’s way into my head, I latch onto it. My skin itches to be cut, despite everything on my mind the only thing I can think about is self harm. I can’t. I won’t. Fuck Frank.
(You’re good :) Frank has urges but doesn’t act upon them)
I get out my phone and compose a text. My dad isn’t home for hours and I need human company.
Me: Mikey, can I come round? My mum’s just been taken to hospital again and the house feels all horrible and empty
Immediately my phone beeps and I have a reply.
Mikey: Shit Frank of course. Well, I’m just leaving to go to g’s, he’s at school late today but I have a key to his flat, you’re welcome to join me if we meet along the way
Notes
firstly, btw i'm british n i'm p sure this is shitty of me but i cba to americanize this. Like ik i should but agh i'm lazy, i'm never gonna get it completely right and it's my fic i do what i want so yeah now new jersey talks like kent.
Secondly and prolly more importantly n prolly should be firstly but whatevs i am so sorry for the lack of updates <3 I got evicted n shizzle n now i'm just bobbing on life hoping to update whenever I can. Currently @ some temporary accomodation place w no wifi so i turned my phone into a portable hotspot n i'm using up all my data
But yeah i rlly am sorry but the next chapter n hopefully the rest of the fic is gonna be good (but seriously i am excite for the next chapter so much i might try n write it now)
Also obligatory time check bc literally every chapter i somehow accidentally end up putting the time in the notes bc yanno u all care about my messed up sleep pattern right? But for old time sake it's 4:34am
@snailthesaints (twitter)
frnktasy.tumblr.com
ps i don't even use insta anymore so i'm giving up linking it also it's more aesthetically pleasing having just those two networks
@Left Shark
ty <3
10/29/15