“Mouth full of white lies,
kiss me in the corridor,
but quick to tell me goodbye...” -Ghost, Halsey

---

"Okay, so what're we getting first?" I ask, landing on the bed. "You said that we'd be outside?"

"Yep," Gerard says. "But just on the balcony and stuff. Nothing too extreme that might get us caught."

"That's cool," I say, sitting up. Gerard finishes setting his camera up on a tripod and his hands start to frantically search his body, searching for something.

"Hey, check the... Right pocket of the jacket," he says finally, unable to find what he's looking for. I shove my hand into the pocket and extract the orange pill bottle marked with Gerard's name and toss it to him. He deftly catches it and unscrews the lid, dumping out the usually two pills. He puts the bottle on the bedside table and downs his pills, reaching across the small distance to give me my pill. I swallow it as well and Gerard says "Alright, to the balcony!"

Gerard has me lean against the balcony, facing out towards the lights of the more occupied part of Bat City. The camera shutter sounds multiple times before Gerard says "I have to be in a few." Then, he comes into frame and turns me so that the camera can see my face and he slides behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He rests his chin on my shoulder and I lean my head against his as the timed camera goes off once more.

Gerard leaves to go check the picture and, upon seeing it, says "Oh, this is awesome. Great. Now, let's umm... Let's go inside and I'll get a few pictures in there."

Why is he stuttering? He only ever stutters when he gets nervous, and he doesn't have much to be nervous about. Right?

The world does that familiar focusing, snapping me out of the reverie. "Oh, shit," Gerard mumbles, squeezing his eyes closed for a second. "Sorry, that took me by surprise."

"The pill?" I ask and he nods, closing the sliding glass door. "Yeah, it just kicked in for me, too."

"Alright, so..." He starts and bites his lip, thinking. "Shoes and jacket need to come off." I obey and take off the boots and Gerard's jacket, placing them on a chair in the corner of the room.

He finishes setting up the camera once more and says "Now just umm... J-just—"

"Why're you stuttering?" I ask, cutting him off. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he says. "This is just a bit awkward."

"What's awkward?" I ask.

"I... Umm..." He stutters, his face burning red. He messes with the camera for a second before looking back up at me. Slowly, Gerard practically whispers "I need you to take off your shirt."

I nod and pull the shirt off, picking it up from the floor. "Hold on a second, drop the shirt," Gerard says and I let go of the fabric like it had burned me. It flutters to the ground and Gerard quickly snaps a picture of it. "This'll all make sense when you see the final outcome," Gerard adds.

He quickly sheds his own jacket and shoes and messes with the camera again for a few seconds before saying "Alright, there's a 10 second timer on this," and leading me over to the bed. He sits down on the edge and pulls me into his lap, making sure I'm comfortable. His hands grip my waist as he says "I have to kiss you. Is that okay?"

I nod and, knowing that we only have a few seconds left, say "Yeah, it's fine." In honesty, it is fine. It's more than fine. I would let him kiss me everyday of he wanted to. But Gerard is practically my brother; when we were growing up, I was a Way and Gerard and Mikey were Frangipanes. We're too close for anything remotely like that to happen. I mean, that would be incest, to a degree.

My thoughts are interrupted by Gerard pressing his lips to mine. It's sort of nice— his lips are rough from the cold but, despite that, they're warm. He tastes just like he smells, too: coffee and cigarettes. There's also the slight tang of the Killjoy pill on his mouth.

The camera sounds and I pull away after a few seconds. "That was kind of nice," I say quietly, letting out a breathy laugh.

Gerard nods, giving me a minuscule smile. "It sort of was," he agrees and moves me off of him to check the picture. "Got it," he says and messes with the camera again. Before he presses the shutter button, though, he takes off his white button-down and "Just... Follow my lead and tell me if you get uncomfortable. Okay?"

"Okay," I say, nodding hesitantly.

"I should also tell you that I'm setting this to video so it'll be easier to find a certain frame and crop it out when I go and edit," he warns me and I nod again. With that, he presses the final button and a red light flashes on.

He pulls me up onto the bed and roughly kisses me, his hands going to the back of my neck. He rolls on top of me and plants his hands by my shoulders, pulling away to hover over me. His eyes canvas me for a few seconds, laid out for him. He leans back down and kisses me hard for a few seconds before moving off of me. He cross to the camera and I sit up on my elbows.

"What're you doing?" I ask as he presses a button on the camera. The red light disappears and he answers "This seems like one of those 'don't keep the camera on' type deals."

Gerard comes back over to me and kisses me again, his hands gripping my waist. He rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him, my legs straddling his waist. "Ash, I..." Gerard starts, barely loud enough for me to hear. He trails off, sitting up so that he can kiss my neck, biting softly at the skin.
"I love you," he finishes, his mouth still on my skin. "I love you so much."

---

The motel room is now deathly quiet, except for the occasional puff of breath from the man sleeping next to me. I'm on the brink of unconsciousness but his skin on mine is electrifying, rendering me unable to sleep.

The moonlight coming through the glass door illuminates the small bit of Gerard that I can see and I see his neck covered in small red lovemarks, a few of them already purpling. His face is buried in my shoulder and his arm is slung across my body, pulling me right up next to him.

He stirs suddenly, his eyebrows pulling together slightly. The arm around me tightens and he makes a small noise in the back of his throat, a mix between a whine and a growl. "Gee?" I whisper, running my fingers through his hair. "Are you okay?"

He makes the noise again, this time accompanied by him removing his arm and turning to face the wall. I can see his back now, covered in the short, white-red marks of fingernails dragging down his back. "Gerard?" I ask, raising my voice slightly. I shake his shoulder and say "Gerard, it's a dream. You're okay."

He lets out a yell in his sleep and jerks awake, falling back into his pillow as his breathing picks up. His eyes are wide with fear and he looks over to me. "Ashley," he says, almost with relief, and hugs me tightly. "God, you're okay."

"Nothing happened to me," I say. "I'm fine."

"I had this dream, Ash," Gerard says and lets out a dry sob. "This guy, he-he had h-hurt you and I couldn't h-help and you-you died!" He stutters out, sobs wracking his body. No tears come, though, so I imagine he's sobbing out of fear.

"It's fine, Gee," I tell him. "Look at me, I'm okay. I promise."

"Okay," he says, settling down. He keeps his grip on me, though, pulling me onto him as he lays down again. "You're okay. You're okay..." He mumbles over and over into my hair, running his hand down my back.

Suddenly, a small beep comes from the other side of the hotel door and I roll off of Gerard as the door flys open to show two people with the familiar smiling face printed on their masks. "Mr. Gerard Way," the one closest to us starts as he's pulled out of bed. "You are under arrest for possession and distribution of illegal narcotics."

"What the fuck?" He exclaims as his hands are cuffed together by the second man. "I don't have any drugs. This is bullshit."

"Who is this?" The same one asks and, before Gerard can answer, he roughly grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the bed. My skin prickles with the sudden cold and I thank God that we had put our underwear back on as he clicks his tongue. "Not a Pornadroid," he mumbles, turning my head with his gloved fingertips.

"You take your damn hands off her," Gerard growls, very uncharacteristic for him.

"Mr. Way, who is this?" The man repeats, his grip on my wrist tightening.

Gerard sighs and says "That's my girlfriend. Now, I'd appreciate it if you would at least tell me why you think I have drugs or whatever you're getting me for."

"An anonymous tip," the speaker says and turns his head towards me. "What's your name?"

I deflate a bit and say "Ashley Frangipane."

"Ms. Frangipane, if you could get dressed and come with us, that would be very helpful," the man in front of me says and lets go of my arm. I quickly find my clothes, pulling them on, before realizing that Oh, shit, the pills are in the pockets of Gerard's coat. Shitshitmotherfuckingshit.

The other occupants of The Pink Motel are out in the hallway, watching the whole thing go down. Gerard is taken out of the room first, his head hanging to look at his feet. I'm next; I haven't been handcuffed like Gerard, but they're still treating me like I'm the one who has the Killjoy pills. Well, I am, but that's a pretty minor detail right now.

I almost crack at the sight of Gerard being pushed into the back of a police vehicle. This wasn't supposed to happen— we were just trying to take pictures for a school project. This isn't right.

"Ms. Frangipane, I'll need you to come with me," a new man says. He has on a regular suit, his strawberry-blond hair pulled into a small ponytail. "Just so we can get an account of what happened tonight."

"What?" I ask before catching on. "Oh, God, no. Gerard didn't rape me or anything. I'm completely fine."

"Are you sure?" The man asks. "Mr. Way can't hear anything you're saying, you know. If he did take advantage of you, you can tell—"

"I consented," I say, cutting the man off. My fingernails dig into my palms as I repeat myself. "I consented. I gave him full permission."

"Okay," the man says. "On that note, my name is Mr. Bryar. I'm Mr. Way's court-assigned lawyer."

"Court? Wait, Gerard has to go to court? Why?" I ask.

"Drug possession and distribution always warrants a trip to court," Bryar explains patiently. "Whether or not he's convicted, well, that's different."

"But they have no proof that Gerard has anything," I argue. "I've never seen him with anything and I've known him for 20 years."

"This is a nice jacket," Bryar says, changing the subject suddenly. "It's slightly big on you, though. Is it Mr. Way's?"

I nod. "Yeah," I say and my heart jumps into my throat.

Slowly, making sure nobody sees his movements, Bryar opens the pockets slightly, peeking inside. He stares wide-eyed at the contents of one of the pockets before whispering "Are you aware that he has a bottle of pills in this pocket?"
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. "No," I lie.

"I'm very sorry, but this is my job," Bryar says and pulls the bottle out. He quickly hides it in the pocket of his jacket and says "I'll be seeing you on Monday morning, Ms. Ashely Frangipane."

Notes

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