Follow Me Home (Frerard)

Gerard's POV

The instructor's voice drones on monotonously, his words hitting my ears and bouncing off. My mind wanders as I doodle stick figures on the side of the notes I'm supposed to be taking. But notes aren't really important; I can just get them when the professor posts them on the school website later. Mine are barely legible as it is. So far, the page reads "Philosopher - Socrates wanted stuff done. Play-Doh and Xylophone was there. Note to self; Pick up new GM Batman comic."
The only part that actually made sense to me was the side note to stop by the comic shop and get the new Grant Morrison Batman comic. The rest was just a bunch of words.
I'm so absorbed in my drawings that I don't take full recognition when the sound of Morrissey starts echoing off of the walls. I simply bob my head with the tune for a few seconds before I realize I'm still in class and my cell phone is making that noise. It's like a bad dream; My head raises just as two-hundred pairs of eyes turn painfully slow around to land on me. My breath catches and I quickly shove my hand into my pocket, pressing a random button on the side to get it to shut up. The instructor gives me an irritated look, turning back to his lecture, as I grab my bag and race from the room.
As soon as the door to the lecture hall is shut behind me, I pull the phone from my pocket and see Bob's number displayed on the screen.
"You better be fucking dying," I say into the cell, zipping my backpack and walking down the sidewalk, shuffling with kids as it's around lunchtime.
"Nope," Bob says. He sounds relaxed and I sigh, though I'm now curious as to why he's randomly calling me. Bob and I barely speak in person, let alone calling each other up to say 'hey, what's up?'
"Then what do you need?"
"You left your computer on," Bob explains. "Some dude sent you a message on Tweeter--"
"Twitter," I correct dryly.
"Whatever." I imagine him rolling his eyes and can't help but mimic the motion, surprised by his total lack of internet knowledge. "Anyways, I just wanted to tell you I'm gonna message him back."
"What?" I shake my head, knowing very well he can't see me. "No, just wait until I get there. I don't even know what he said."
"He's being a sarcastic little bitch," Bob sighs. "The message says 'No problem, and I happen to like typing with my face, thank you very much.'"
My eyes instantly narrow in concentration, wandering what the hell that is even supposed to mean before remembering what I sent this morning to that drunk frat guy.
"I'm just gonna message him back real quick--" Bob starts but I unintentionally squeak and shake my head again.
"No, Bob. I'll handle it when I--" The phone beeps against my ear and pull it away, the screen alight with my brother's name. "Dammit. Mikey's calling me. I have to get that--"
"Cool," Bob says. "I'll see you when you get back."
"Bob, don't you dare message him back--" But before I can even finish my threat, the phone is beeping again, this time alerting me to the fact that he has already hung up. I groan, hitting the answer button and putting the phone back against my shoulder. "Hey, Mikes."
"Gerard!" My brother exclaims on the other end. "I love you!"
"Okay. Random..."
"You are the best brother in the entire universe and I want you to know that." Mikey continues. I can practically hear the desperation falling from his words and sigh.
"What do you want?"
There's a small pause before Mikey's voice returns, this time with the verbal manifestation of a grin. "It's November."
"Yes," I say. "Thank you for the random statement of fact."
"Graduation is in seven months."
"Another random fact," I reply dryly. "Does this phone call actually have a point?"
Mikey sighs, exasperated, but finally getting to the point. "Mom and Dad booked this cruise thing as celebration for me graduating high school."
Oh... They were taking Mikey on a cruise? The only thing I got when I graduated was the plane ticket to New York as they shut the door behind me. "That's awesome, Mikes." I try to make my voice sound convincing, but the happiness falls short.
"Don't sound so depressed," Mikey says. "They're not taking me either. It's just Mom and Dad. They're happy to be getting rid of both of us or some shit. I don't know. But the point is; They're buying me a plane ticket to New York." I can hear the grin again and it takes a moment for realization to set in.
"So you--" I start, but don't have the chance to finish before Mikey is hurrying on in an excited voice.
"So I can spend the summer with you before I head to college!" I smile before Mikey continues, this time sounding less than pumped. "That is, if you want me to come see you..."
"Of course I want you to!" I grin. "You're my baby brother." My phone beeps and I roll my eyes, sighing. "Look, I gotta go, but I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Sure!"
Mikey hangs up and I pull the cell phone away again, seeing a new text lighting up my screen.
From: Bob
Message: This is what I sent the little twerp...
Following that is a picture of my Twitter replies, showing one new sent tweet;
"@FrankIero Listen up you little turd. Drop the sarcasm or next time it will be my fist making your face hit the keyboard."
"Oh my damn..." I mutter aloud. I am going to kill Bob.

Notes