"What size shoes do you wear?" Frank asks. He's buried in the depths of his closet, trying to find clothes for me. Thankfully, we're only about a size apart, so most of his stuff from last year fits me.
"Umm... 6 and a halfs, I think," I say and Frank tosses me a pair of biker boots and I trade them out for my shoes.
The door opens and LynZ walks in, plopping down on Frank's bed. "You guys take too long to get dressed," she tells us. I look at her outfit of a short black leather skirt, a red checkered sleeveless shirt, a black leather jacket and black combat boots with black lace tights and I ask "How long did it take you?"
"Maybe 5 minutes," she says, as if she's flaunting her ability to quickly get dressed. She pulls her hair into a tight ponytail on the top of her head as Frank tosses me one of his leather jackets. I pull it on over the red t-shirt and spin around in a circle.
"Am I pretty yet?" I ask, which elicits a giggle from LynZ. She stands up from her place and comes over to me. She messes with my hair, fluffing it in some places and smoothing it down in others.
"Frankie," is all she says and Frank hands her a small black pencil. She takes the plastic cap off and instructs me to look up.
She quickly runs the eyeliner along my water line and caps it back, handing it back to her brother. "Okay, now you're pretty," she says and steps back to admire her work. "Say what you will about me, I'm damn good at eyeliner." She leads me down the hallway to the bathroom and shoves me in front of the mirror.
"Wow," I say as soon as I catch my reflection. The eyeliner makes my eyes look wider and it brings out the darker tones in my hazel eyes. The way that LynZ messed with my hair makes it look like I had been in a windstorm for an extended period of time. "This looks amazing, LynZ."
"You're welcome," she says and kisses my cheek. She leaves a bright red mark on my cheek and I move to wipe it off but she says "If you wipe that off, I will hurt you. It adds to the aesthetic."
"The aesthetic? Of what?" I ask as we go back to Frank's room.
"The kinda scary, sexy, intimidating rocker." she says. Did she just say sexy? Talking about me? I feel a red blush crawl over my face as Frank lets out a whistle.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're 20 years old if you're a day," Frank says. "It's hard to believe that you're 15-- you don't look it."
"Thanks, I guess," I say. I'm still rattled by LynZ's 'sexy' comment.
"You have a baby face," LynZ says, patting my un-kissed cheek. "Frank does, too."
"I'm not gonna deny that," Frank says. He looks at his phone and adds "If we wanna get there before they light it, we have to leave now."
"Light it? Light what?" I ask. LynZ takes my hand in her's and I wince as her fingers move across my bruise. The edges are turning a sickening shade of purple, so dark it's almost black.
The two lead me down the stairs and Frank shoves me in the backseat. "Alright, Pushy," I mutter and LynZ laughs. She props her feet up on the dash and laces her hands behind her head.
"Nope," Frank says, pushing his sister's feet off of the dash. "Not on Pansy."
"Oh, yeah," LynZ says and turns in her seat to face me. "His guitar's name is Pansy and his car's name is Pansy. I'm convinced that if he ever gets a dog, he's naming the bastard Pansy as well."
"Pansy is a good name!" Frank says as we drive away from their house. It's already dark out, and the streetlights brighten the darkened asphalt only a small amount. "Hell, if I have a kid, I'm naming him-slash-her Pansy."
"I am not going to be the aunt of a kid called Pansy!" LynZ objects.
Frank seems like he wants to say more, but his phone rings, interrupting him. He digs it out of his pocket and cradles it between his ear and shoulder. "Hello?" He says quickly and, after a pause, cheers "Stumpy! Hey, man, how's it going?"
Another pause. "Oh, shit, seriously?" Frank asks. Yet again, there was another pause. "That's awesome! Yeah, we'll be there in maybe 10... Way's with us... Yes, Mikey Way. Of course not, you idiot. We've got Gee... Great... See you soon." He hangs up and shoves his phone back in his pocket and says "So that was Patrick."
"What'd he say?" LynZ asks.
"He said that Ray won't be there, but the whole rest of the crew's there," Frank says. "Even effing Trè."
"Trè's there?" LynZ exclaims. "Holy shit, are Billie and Mike there?"
"I don't know, but wherever Trè goes, Billie and Mike are sure to follow, with their respective instruments." Frank says.
LynZ turns in her seat again and asks "Guess what Trè's last name is?"
I shrug. "I dunno. What?"
"Cool," she says, practically beaming. "He's 20 and changed his name to Trè Cool. The best name anyone could ever hope for."
"Andy— Biersack— made friends with Trè when he still went to our school, and whenever a big gathering for our social event takes place, his band comes with him," Frank explains. "They're called Sweet Children or some shit."
"I think they renamed," LynZ says. "Green Day or something."
"No, they were talking about renaming to Green Day," Frank argues as he turns onto a back street. "I don't think they've done it yet."
"Gotta get me a drink of you're wrong," LynZ wagers, cocking an eyebrow.
"Rum and Coke?" Frank offers. LynZ nods and the two shake hands. "Huzzah!" They cheer and break out in laughter.
"We've done that for as long as we can remember," Frank explains to me. He pulls over to the side of the road, away from a streetlight. The three of us get out of the car and LynZ takes my hand in her's again.
"Oh," she says and wipes at my cheek with her thumb. "It's come off."
"It's fine," I reassure her. Even though I really want her to kiss me again, I won't let her.
"C'mon! We're gonna miss it!" Frank says and drags LynZ and me to the... Scrapyard? He grips the links of the fence and shakes it a bit, sending loud metallic bangs through the structure.
The gate off to our left opens and Andy comes out to greet us. Except he's not Andy— he has on white face makeup with drawn-on black scars all over his face. His hair is parted off to the side and held back by a thick black headband. The small chains hanging from his tight black tights rattle as he comes up to us, red Solo cup in hand. "You guys made it just in time!" He says and, taking LynZ's other hand, adds "Let's go in."
The three of us go in and Frank immediately disappears. There's a big pit in the middle of the yard and copious amounts of wood and other flammable objects are piled up. Some of the wood looks wet and a foul smell lingers through the air-- kerosene and alcohol.
"This's Gee?" Andy asks in disbelief. He brings his hand down onto my shoulder and I flinch. "I wouldn't've recognized you, kid."
"Same to you," I say. "Who did your makeup?"
"I did," a voice says behind me and I turn to see a guy almost exactly like Andy. He has the same white makeup on but he has less of the scars. "I'm Ash." He says and shakes my hand.
"Lee," Andy adds and I turn to him.
"What?" I ask and I hear Ash sigh.
"My parents thought that it was the best idea to name me— a dude— Ashley," he says and I grimace.
"You are a very purdy boy, though, Ash," LynZ says and Andy and Ash groan.
"Can we stop making horrible puns on my name?" Ash asks. "My full name is Ashley Purdy."
"Oh. Sorry, dude," I say. "I got stuck with the name Way, so—"
Ash cuts me off. "Wait, Way?" He asks. "Don't tell me you're related to Mikey?"
I nod and hold up my fist. "Punched the bastard in the face," I say and Andy hisses in air through his teeth.
"He looked pretty bad in science," Andy says. "Said he walked into a wall or some shit."
"That's the exact same thing I told Tyler Joseph when he asked me," I say.
"What? Joseph? What?" Another guy says and approaches our small gathering. He has curly dark brown hair and tan skin, and has a cup like Andy's in his hand.
"This is Joe Trohman. Joe; Joseph, Joey T; call him what you like," Ash introduces me. Joe nods and gives me a small salute.
"You punched Mikey Way," he says. "You deserve a drink." He throws his arm around my shoulder and steers me to a small table set up close to the entrance. "What d'ya want, kid?" He asks, putting down his drink.
"I don't know," I answer. "I haven't ever drank before." Joe gasps and looks around, like he's in shock.
"And how old are you?" He asks.
"15," I say.
"LynZ! Get your ass over here!" Joe yells and she bounds up to us. "Gee has never drank before."
"That is going to change," Lyn-Z says instantly and starts to fix me a drink.
"Never in your life?" Joe asks.
I shake my head. "I was in the hospital for the past almost-two years," I say as an explanation. LynZ opens my hand and drops the cup into it.
"Drink up," she says and leans against the table. After a moment of me doing nothing, she says "I'm serious. These parties are only fun when everyone's hammered."
"Hey!" Joe exclaims. "I make the fun!"
"And you're not hammered yet, are you?" LynZ asks. Joe glances inside of his cup and says "Give me about 20 more minutes."
"I'm timing you," LynZ says. I still haven't drank anything— I'm sort of scared. "Gee, are you okay?"
I nod, the fingernails of my free hand digging into my palm.
"I'll give you a kiss if you neck it," Frank says, staggering up to us. He's already had some to drink, I can tell.
"He's not going to neck it, Frank!" LynZ says and smacks her brother's chest. She looks at me and says "I'll give you a kiss if you drink it."
Yes, please. I look down at the dark brown drink in the cup and say "If I die, bury me in black." LynZ laughs and says "Will do."
And with that, I take my first drink. I shudder as it burns down my throat but I swallow it. I look up to find LynZ smiling like a maniac. "Like it?" She asks.
I furrow my eyebrows. "I don't know... What is it?" I ask.
"Rum and Coke," she answers. "My personal favorite."
I take another sip and the same feeling runs down my throat. I nod and Joe and Frank cheer. "The kiddo likes the drink!" Frank shouts and LynZ puts her hands on my cheeks.
"I did say I'd kiss you," she says and presses her lips to mine. My eyes momentarily widen in shock— LynZ is kissing me. She's kissing me! For a split second, the only thought that runs through my head is to kiss her back.
And I do. She tastes nice— like cigarettes and spearmint gum. I never want this moment to end.
LynZ pulls away and smiles at me. She pats my cheeks and brings her hands down and my euphoria disappears. "LynZ!" Frank exclaims and grasps her wrist in his hand. "They're about to light it! C'mon!"
"Okay!" She says, laughing, and offers me her hand. I take it and Frank whisks us off to the pit.
There's a small stage near it, made of crushed cars and other various parts. There's a drum kit up there, as well as several amps and microphones. There's also three guys on stage— a blond one at the microphone, a brunette one on bass, and a green-haired guy on drums. The blond guy has a guitar strapped low on his body and he says into the microphone "Hello, everybody! We're Green Day—"
"Go get me a drink, bitch!" LynZ yells and Frank moves away from her a minuscule amount.
"Settle down, Lyn," the guy at the microphone says and a laugh ripples through the small crowd. "As I was saying, we're Green Day and welcome to..." He pauses for dramatic affect and yells "Desolation Row!" His statement is met with loud cheers from everyone and I offer my drink to LynZ.
"No, that's your's," she says. "Frank has to make me one, anyway."
"Screw you," Frank slurs and giggles.
"Now, as I understand it, we have a new member to our little party," the guy says and looks straight at me. "C'mon up here, introduce yourself."
Frank pushes me towards the makeshift stage and I stumble. The blond guy offers me a hand up and I take it, staggering a bit as I land. "What's your name, kid?" He asks. "As most of you know, I am the wonderful William Joseph Armstrong. But you can call me Billie Joe."
"Umm..." I say, my voice being amplified through the microphone. "I'm Gerard."
"How old're ya, Gerard?" Billie Joe asks.
"I'm 15," I say meekly and Billie Joe's hazel eyes widen.
"Only 15?" He asks. "Wanna add about 5 years to that?"
"Excuse me?" I ask.
"You're seriously only a sophomore?" Billie Joe asks.
"I got held back," I say. "So I'm only a freshman."
"You're bullshitting me right now," Billie Joe's says. "There's no way you're a freshman."
I gesture to LynZ and Frank and say "Ask them. They'll tell you."
"He is!" Frank yells. "Protect him! He's awkward!"
"Thanks for that, Frank," I say. Another small laugh ripples through the crowd and Billie Joe says "If you say so."
"Holy mother of God, what happened to your hand?" Billie Joe asks. I look at the hand holding my drink and find that it's the one that's bruised.
"Oh, I got in a fight with my brother," I say.
"Is the son of a bitch here tonight?" Billie Joe asks, adjusting the red button-down shirt he has on.
"Nope. This isn't really his scene," I say.
"It's a goddamn arms race!" I hear someone yell from somewhere in the crowd and I scan the people until I find a guy in red plaid pants and silver boots, with a black fedora perched on his head.
"Fine by me. So," Billie Joe says. "Wanna light the fire?"
I shrug. "Why not?" I say. My words are met with a cheer and the drummer passes Billie Joe a box of matches. He strike one against the box and hands it to me. My free hand shakes as I carefully toss it out to the kerosene-soaked kindling.
It catches fire with a loud rush and everyone cheers louder. Billie Joe helps me off stage and LynZ tackles me in a hug. "Oh, Gee!" She cries above the rock music the band's started to play. "You lit the fire!"
"I did!" I exclaim. I down some of my drink and Frank yells in victory.
"Yes! We've corrupted you!" Frank exclaims.
"Frankie, drink!" LynZ says and Frank moves through the crowd to the drinks table.

---

Three drinks later, the world has become fuzzy. A few people have come up to say hi, and I've explained to all of them about how I'm Mikey Way's brother.
LynZ and I sit against the fence, LynZ nursing her second rum and Coke of the night. "Hey, Gee?" She asks, her words slurring together slightly.
"I'm really glad I met you," she says, hiccuping after she finishes talking. "Frankie—HIC— really likes you and I really like you." She giggles and I nod.
"I'm— HIC— really glad I met you too," I say, hiccuping as well. I look around and ask "What time is it?"
"I don't know," LynZ says and stands up. She looks around too and yells "Whiskey Penis! Get your ass over here right now!"
"This has got to stop," Andy groans, jogging up to us.
"You looked like a gazelle," I say, laughing. "Your gazelle legs and majestic hair."
"He's faced," Andy says matter-of-factly.
"Yes, he is," LynZ says. "And we need a driver."
"Where's Hurley?" Andy asks. "Hurley! Come 'ere!"
A guy I was introduced to earlier tonight comes up to us. "Hey," he says and I giggle at his uncharacteristically high voice. "You need me to drive him home?"
"And LynZ and Frank," Andy B. says and Andy H. sighs. "It's not like you were going home with anyone tonight!"
"True," Andy H. says and helps me up. "We gotta find Frank."
"I'll get him," LynZ says and slips away into the crowd.
"So, how was your first time at Desolation Row?" Andy B. asks.
"I probably won't remember it," I say and hold up my half-empty cup.
Andy B. nods and says "You're right. We gotta get you home."
"I'm going— HIC— home with LynZ and Frank," I say and laugh as I hiccup.
"The hangover tomorrow is gonna make you wish you were dead," Andy B. says and I nod. "Where's LynZ?"
"I'll get her," I volunteer and move throughout the crowd to find her. After a bit of searching, I finally spot her and grab her arm. "LynZ, we have to go."
"Okay," she says and adds "I haven't found Frank yet."
"It's okay, I'll help you find him," I say and drain my cup. We search the crowd for a few minutes until we see him.
Well, it's more like he sees us. "Gee!" He cries and staggers up to us. He grabs my hair in his hand and says "I..." He pauses and presses his lips to mine.
"Frankie!" LynZ exclaims and pulls her brother off of me. I stay frozen where I am as LynZ says "Don't do that! He's just a kid!" Frank just kissed me. What the hell?
"Sorry, Gee," Frank says like a scolded 5 year old.
"It's—it's okay," I stutter and let LynZ drag the two of us to the front of the scrapyard.
"So, Gee just had his first gay experience," LynZ says upon approaching Andy Biersack.
"What happened?" He asks, moving his hair out of his face.
"Frankie planted one on him," LynZ says. She nudges Frank's ribs and he laughs. "Don't laugh!" She yells at him.
"Alright, time to get you guys home!" Andy Hurley says and puts his hands on Frank's and mine's shoulders. He steers us out of the scrapyard, LynZ following us. We lead him to Frank's run-down green Civic and he gets in the driver's seat. It's obvious he hasn't had anything to drink tonight; meanwhile, I'm clutching my empty cup so hard that I'm bending the plastic.
I don't remember the car ride all too well. I remember LynZ laughing about something and the smell of cigarette smoke. The next thing I remember for certain is lying on Frank's bedroom floor. The borrowed clothes are laying in a heap next to his clothes, leaving me in my white t-shirt and dark blue boxers.
The door to his bedroom creaks open and, in the sliver of golden hallway light, I see a feminine silhouette. LynZ. "Gee?" She whispers. "Are you awake?"
"Barely," I answer, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands.
"This may sound like a weird question," she warns me. "Can you come sleep in my room with me?"
"What?" I ask, propping myself up on my elbows. "Why? Are you okay?"
"I sometimes have night terrors," she explains. "I'll wake up, screaming and crying, and it'll take hours for me to calm myself down."
"Oh. Okay," I say and stand up. I go over to her and she gently takes my hand in her's and leads me to her room.
It's set up the same way as Frank's room is: a large window opposite the door, the closet on the left wall, bed on the right wall and a small desk in the corner of the back wall and the right wall. The only things that's different are the colors; Frank's are mainly red and black and LynZ's are lilac and white.
I sit down at her purple desk chair and she turns off the overhead light. The moonlight from the open window behind her bed offers a bit of light and I watch her slip into her white-sheeted bed. She doesn't lay down, though— she stares at me. "What?" I ask.
She gestured wordlessly to the empty space on her king-sized bed and I exclaim "Oh!" She wants us in the same bed? I stand up and slowly lay down in her bed, placing my head on her spare pillow. She furrows her eyebrows and lifts up her bedsheets, inviting me in. I lick my lips and slide in next to her. Her legs immediately tangle with mine and she moves closer to me. The tip of her nose is inches from my own and I can smell the Rum and Coke on her breath.
She closes her eyes, her coal-black eyelashes hitting her cheeks. From the distance between us, I can see freckles on her forehead and cheeks. She also has a set of small holes in her left nostril-- her nose is pierced? I would like to see her with the piercing in. I bet she would look nice.
Her breathing steadies and she turns a bit, facing to the ceiling. I find her hand underneath the covers and link our fingers together. I feel a bit of cold metal on her ring finger that I somehow never noticed before. I lift our hands out from out beneath the covers and see a small gold ring. There's a small inscription on it and I squint my eyes to see.
Forever. Who gave her a ring that says Forever? I try to get a better look but she makes a noise in her sleep. I look at her face and find it wet with tears.
"LynZ, wake up," I whisper. She only continues to cry silently. Her grip on my hand tightens and she lets out a whimper, like when Mikey was holding her down. Is she dreaming about that? "LynZ, you're fine. It's okay."
As soon as the words leave my mouth, she screams and bolts up. She looks around her darkened room, her chest heaving, and yells out again when she sees me. "Holy shit, it's you," she mutters breathlessly and lays back down. She moves a bit so that her head is resting on my chest and my arms are around her shoulders. Our legs are still intertwined under the sheets.
She's still crying. "I'm so sorry, Gee," she says and presses her face against my chest harder.
I shush her and say "It's fine. You're okay." Then, after a moment, I add "Do you want to tell me what your dream was about?"
She shakes her head. "No," she says. "Not really."
"Oh," I say. "Okay." I hold her hand, my thumb making circles in her palm. "Who gave you that ring?"
She swallows and says "My grandma. Before she died." I nod in understanding and we stay silent for the rest of the night.

Notes

So, I fixed the spacing. It's still #RayDay, and my Tumblr dash is sunshine man spam.