I Mean This: Never Again
Hang 'Em High
23 November 2002
"I think rock's gonna blow up people's private parts," Gerard said absently, absently aware of the camera in his face. Nerves were overtaken him, and he could barely focus on anything else.
"What he said," Mikey said, and Gerard looked up to his brother. What a strange kid, Gerard thought.
"My Chemical Romance?" A standhand asked, poking out of the door. She seemed almost in awe of the five men, but then again, everyone in the Belleville grunge scene was in awe of the five men. "Ten minutes 'til show."
"Thanks," Ray said, smiling at the girl. When she left, Ray let out a lungful of air and exclaimed: "Holy shit, I'm fucking scared."
"You and me both," Matt nodded.
"Hey, umm..." Gerard stated and looked around, noticing a lack of skinny arms around his waist. "Where's Frankie?"
"I'm short, not invisible," he said from his place across the room. Gerard turned and saw Frank sitting on the edge of a plastic fold-out table, his guitar balanced on his thigh, absentmindedly strumming out Smoke On The Water.
"C'm'ere," Gerard said, reaching his hand out. He hoped that Frank didn't notice how badly he was shaking as he made his way over to Gerard, burying his face in his shoulder. "I love you."
"Love you too," Frank said and kissed Gerard's collarbone through the fabric of his shirt.
Six months had brought change to all of them. Gerard had gained weight, making all of his formerly baggy clothes for again, and he hadn't touched alcohol since that night in May. He and Frank had grown closer, the topic of kids and marriage eventually worming their way into daily conversation, with no help from Donna or Frank's mom, Linda. He had also been able to stomach being around Alex; he found that, if he stayed on the other side of the room, he could be there.
Frank had gotten his dreads taken out and he re-dyed his hair, this time the blond coming out more of a copper-red hue. It was a good look for the punk boy, with his piercings and tattoos. However, despite looking tough, he was the one to protect out of all of them; even though he only looked 17, he had turned 21 weeks earlier.
Mikey had grown to be slightly more extroverted. Gerard watched as his little brother, formerly the strange boy in the back of the classroom, never talking to anyone, transformed into a slightly less strange man, wearing a Rick Springfield singlet, and a Muse sticker on his instrument.
Ray, not surprisingly, got rid of his glasses. He had started complaining about them in August, and finally got contacts. The absence of the glasses made him look like a different person, but he held on tight to his curly hair.
"Ready, guys?" Ray said finally, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. Gerard couldn't help but notice that he was white-knuckling the neck of his guitar, obviously terrified.
"Ready," Frank confirmed, sounding less than ready.
This show was important. It was the first show they ever played with a full record, with a reputation as the pretty grunge boys from the wrong side of Jersey. There was never a silent moment the whole fourty-five minutes, the only lull being during Demolition Lovers, as Gerard had to hold back happy tears.
Finally, the show ended, and everyone was hanging out outside of the venue, smoking and working off their adrenaline. Well, Gerard and Frank were; Mikey, Ray, and Matt all went home early.
"Gerard?" A voice said behind him and Gerard stiffened, smashing the burning end of his cigarette against the brick wall of the building.
"Hello, Father," Gerard hissed, turning on his heel to face his dad. "What is it this time?"
"I would like to speak to you, ," Donald said. "Your mother told me that all five of you would be here tonight."
Fucking Mom, Gerard thought but he nodded curtly.
"Frankie," he said quietly. "I'm going inside with my dad. I'll be back out in maybe ten minutes."
"Alright, baby," Frank said and hooked an arm around Gerard's neck, pressing his lips against his own. He normally wouldn't have kissed Gerard, but his master plan to piss off Donald Way had to start somehow.
The two went back inside the venue. It had quieted significantly, and the only people in there was the stagehand girl and the bartender, cleaning up for the night. They took seats at the bar and Gerard looked expectantly at Donald. "Well?" He asked.
After he sighed, Donald said: "I've been thinking about what I said to you the last time we spoke. I was angry and upset and, frankly, I had no idea how to properly react. Looking back, my reaction was immature, and I apologize for what I said."
Gerard nodded.
"I would very much like to be in your life," Donald continued. "And I would like to form a stronger relationship with you."
"I can do that," Gerard said after a moment. "As long as you're nice to Frankie. He's an amazing person, and he doesn't deserve to be treated the way you treated me."
"I promise, I won't hurt him," Donald said, and Gerard couldn't help but notice that he put emphasis on the 'I'. "Look's like they're about to close up," Donald observed. "Let's finish this outside."
Gerard nodded and lead the way out of the venue. He made his way back to where he left Frank and found him nowhere to be seen. "Frankie?" Gerard called. No answer came.
Then, someone cried out towards the back side of the building. Gerard recognized that cry, and he dashed to the back. There, he found two men: one being held against the wall, and the other bringing his fist down on his face.
"Stop!" Frank cried as his attacker's fist split his lip open, blood pouring from the wound.
"Pretty little punk faggot," the other man hissed, each word accentuated with a blow to Frank's face.
"Hey!" Gerard yelled and pulled the man off of Frank, who immediately buckled and fell to the ground. "What the fuck, man?"
"You two are going to hell," the attacker said.
"Yeah, well, what else is new?" Gerard spat. He turned to ask his father to help, but found Donald nowhere to be seen.
Then, it all made sense. "God!" Gerard yelled. "Fuck! Fucking hell!"
"Gee, stop yelling," Frank whispered from the ground. "M'head... Hurts."
"Frankie, you'll be okay," Gerard said, dropping down next to Frank. "It's okay, sweetie, you're fine now."
"Dirty faggots," the man muttered.
"How about you fuck off?" Frank said weakly. Gerard resisted the urge to laugh at Frank's attempt at being tough, but the man got up, spit at them, and left quickly.
Gerard pulled Frank into his lap, wiping the blood off of Frank's face with the edge of his shirt. "How about I call Mikey and we'll get you to the hospital?" Gerard asked softly. "How's that sound?"
"Sounds good," Frank said. "Thank you, Gee."
"What else am I supposed to do?" Gerard asked. "My father hates us enough to have one of us attacked; we gotta stick together."
"You know," Frank started. "I had a really bad feeling about your dad straight off."
"Fuck off, Frankie."
"Love you too. Now, call the hospital, jackass."
"I think rock's gonna blow up people's private parts," Gerard said absently, absently aware of the camera in his face. Nerves were overtaken him, and he could barely focus on anything else.
"What he said," Mikey said, and Gerard looked up to his brother. What a strange kid, Gerard thought.
"My Chemical Romance?" A standhand asked, poking out of the door. She seemed almost in awe of the five men, but then again, everyone in the Belleville grunge scene was in awe of the five men. "Ten minutes 'til show."
"Thanks," Ray said, smiling at the girl. When she left, Ray let out a lungful of air and exclaimed: "Holy shit, I'm fucking scared."
"You and me both," Matt nodded.
"Hey, umm..." Gerard stated and looked around, noticing a lack of skinny arms around his waist. "Where's Frankie?"
"I'm short, not invisible," he said from his place across the room. Gerard turned and saw Frank sitting on the edge of a plastic fold-out table, his guitar balanced on his thigh, absentmindedly strumming out Smoke On The Water.
"C'm'ere," Gerard said, reaching his hand out. He hoped that Frank didn't notice how badly he was shaking as he made his way over to Gerard, burying his face in his shoulder. "I love you."
"Love you too," Frank said and kissed Gerard's collarbone through the fabric of his shirt.
Six months had brought change to all of them. Gerard had gained weight, making all of his formerly baggy clothes for again, and he hadn't touched alcohol since that night in May. He and Frank had grown closer, the topic of kids and marriage eventually worming their way into daily conversation, with no help from Donna or Frank's mom, Linda. He had also been able to stomach being around Alex; he found that, if he stayed on the other side of the room, he could be there.
Frank had gotten his dreads taken out and he re-dyed his hair, this time the blond coming out more of a copper-red hue. It was a good look for the punk boy, with his piercings and tattoos. However, despite looking tough, he was the one to protect out of all of them; even though he only looked 17, he had turned 21 weeks earlier.
Mikey had grown to be slightly more extroverted. Gerard watched as his little brother, formerly the strange boy in the back of the classroom, never talking to anyone, transformed into a slightly less strange man, wearing a Rick Springfield singlet, and a Muse sticker on his instrument.
Ray, not surprisingly, got rid of his glasses. He had started complaining about them in August, and finally got contacts. The absence of the glasses made him look like a different person, but he held on tight to his curly hair.
"Ready, guys?" Ray said finally, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. Gerard couldn't help but notice that he was white-knuckling the neck of his guitar, obviously terrified.
"Ready," Frank confirmed, sounding less than ready.
This show was important. It was the first show they ever played with a full record, with a reputation as the pretty grunge boys from the wrong side of Jersey. There was never a silent moment the whole fourty-five minutes, the only lull being during Demolition Lovers, as Gerard had to hold back happy tears.
Finally, the show ended, and everyone was hanging out outside of the venue, smoking and working off their adrenaline. Well, Gerard and Frank were; Mikey, Ray, and Matt all went home early.
"Gerard?" A voice said behind him and Gerard stiffened, smashing the burning end of his cigarette against the brick wall of the building.
"Hello, Father," Gerard hissed, turning on his heel to face his dad. "What is it this time?"
"I would like to speak to you, ," Donald said. "Your mother told me that all five of you would be here tonight."
Fucking Mom, Gerard thought but he nodded curtly.
"Frankie," he said quietly. "I'm going inside with my dad. I'll be back out in maybe ten minutes."
"Alright, baby," Frank said and hooked an arm around Gerard's neck, pressing his lips against his own. He normally wouldn't have kissed Gerard, but his master plan to piss off Donald Way had to start somehow.
The two went back inside the venue. It had quieted significantly, and the only people in there was the stagehand girl and the bartender, cleaning up for the night. They took seats at the bar and Gerard looked expectantly at Donald. "Well?" He asked.
After he sighed, Donald said: "I've been thinking about what I said to you the last time we spoke. I was angry and upset and, frankly, I had no idea how to properly react. Looking back, my reaction was immature, and I apologize for what I said."
Gerard nodded.
"I would very much like to be in your life," Donald continued. "And I would like to form a stronger relationship with you."
"I can do that," Gerard said after a moment. "As long as you're nice to Frankie. He's an amazing person, and he doesn't deserve to be treated the way you treated me."
"I promise, I won't hurt him," Donald said, and Gerard couldn't help but notice that he put emphasis on the 'I'. "Look's like they're about to close up," Donald observed. "Let's finish this outside."
Gerard nodded and lead the way out of the venue. He made his way back to where he left Frank and found him nowhere to be seen. "Frankie?" Gerard called. No answer came.
Then, someone cried out towards the back side of the building. Gerard recognized that cry, and he dashed to the back. There, he found two men: one being held against the wall, and the other bringing his fist down on his face.
"Stop!" Frank cried as his attacker's fist split his lip open, blood pouring from the wound.
"Pretty little punk faggot," the other man hissed, each word accentuated with a blow to Frank's face.
"Hey!" Gerard yelled and pulled the man off of Frank, who immediately buckled and fell to the ground. "What the fuck, man?"
"You two are going to hell," the attacker said.
"Yeah, well, what else is new?" Gerard spat. He turned to ask his father to help, but found Donald nowhere to be seen.
Then, it all made sense. "God!" Gerard yelled. "Fuck! Fucking hell!"
"Gee, stop yelling," Frank whispered from the ground. "M'head... Hurts."
"Frankie, you'll be okay," Gerard said, dropping down next to Frank. "It's okay, sweetie, you're fine now."
"Dirty faggots," the man muttered.
"How about you fuck off?" Frank said weakly. Gerard resisted the urge to laugh at Frank's attempt at being tough, but the man got up, spit at them, and left quickly.
Gerard pulled Frank into his lap, wiping the blood off of Frank's face with the edge of his shirt. "How about I call Mikey and we'll get you to the hospital?" Gerard asked softly. "How's that sound?"
"Sounds good," Frank said. "Thank you, Gee."
"What else am I supposed to do?" Gerard asked. "My father hates us enough to have one of us attacked; we gotta stick together."
"You know," Frank started. "I had a really bad feeling about your dad straight off."
"Fuck off, Frankie."
"Love you too. Now, call the hospital, jackass."
Notes
I am so sorry y'all. For my absence, for the short chapter, and for making you go through this angst.
xoøli
@tatethecake
1/9/16