Manage me, I'm a mess.
The terror of knowing what this world is about.
Sorry for the wait. I am not abandoning this, nor will I put it on Hiatus. For now just enjoy this chapter.
"Yeah so I have to stay at my stupid uncle’s for a couple of months to ‘heal the wound’. Whatever the fuck that means.” I groan down the phone to Jackson, my only true friend.
“Damn, that sucks dude,” He responds.
This is what I love about Jackson, he takes my side on basically everything. When we were six and smashed the living room window, he took my side and blamed it on teens throwing rocks outside. When we were ten, I failed my test and he told my parents that everyone did awful in the test. When we were thirteen, I was forced to therapy for the first time and he help stand up to my parents saying that if I was forced to do something, it won’t help.
No matter what, Jackson Kenan Toro has always taken my side.
“Well, I better get going,” I sigh, looking at the time, “I have to get ready to go to Gerard’s.”
“Good luck,” He wishes me, before saying his final goodbye and hanging up the phone.
I sigh, throw my phone on my pillow, and get up, double checking I have everything.
Clothes, Check.
Guitar, Check.
DS, Check.
Secret bag, Check.
Yep, from the looks of it I have all the necessities.
“KOBRA! YOU READY?!” My dad calls from downstairs.
“Yeah,” I sigh, more to myself than my dad.
I grab my bags, and rush down the stairs to the front door where my parents are. My mum is staying home as she has to go to work later on, and my dad is going to be taking me, just so he can talk to my uncle for a bit.
“Goodbye sweetie,” My mum says, tears in her eyes, “Be safe my baby.”
I am pulled into a strong hug, with my mum breathing heavily, trying to holding in her cries.
I almost don’t want to do what I have planned, but I have to. If I put it off, I will never do it, and then I will be stuck with him for the rest of my life.
“Don’t worry mum,” I say, hugging her back, “You won’t have to worry about me.”
She lets out a choked sob, pulling away, smiling at me. She brushes her hand lightly over my cheek, her cold fingers ghosting over the bruise left from my father’s hand.
“Let’s go Kobie,” I hear my dad sigh, clearly upset about the mark his hand left.
“Ok,” I sigh, turning back to my mother, giving her one final hug, “I am going to miss you.”
She nods in return, mouthing a quick ‘I love you’, before rushing to the kitchen.
I sigh, before I pick up my bags and turn to face my dad.
“Let’s go,” I sigh, looking down at the ground.
I hear my dad intake a breath of air, but his words get lost in a horrendous coughing fit. Rough, wet coughs erupt from his throat, and for that short 30 seconds he coughs, I feel a sickening feel of despair and horror.
“Mikey?” My mum asks after he catches his breath, having come back in from kitchen as soon as she heard the coughs, “How long?”
“Since last week,” I hear his scratchy voice respond.
Fear fills me up to the brim. What does this mean? Is my dad sick?
“Daddy?” I ask, shaking, voice small and soft.
“It’s okay Kobie,” He tells me, giving me a sad smile, “I’m okay.”
I nod, picking up the discarded bags, and walking out the door.
“Be safe,” I hear my mum whisper to my dad, before I throw my shit in the car, hopping in myself, shortly followed by my dad.
“Right,” He sighs, voice still horse, “Let’s get going.”
He starts the car, pressing start on the CD player. The sweet sounds of Queen, The greatest Hits album, fills the car. I lean back in the passenger seat and let the sound of David Bowie and Freddie Mercury voices singing in sweet harmony, take over my worried brain.
Time skip, Gerard’s house, 1:06PM.
I have been at my uncles for just over 30 minutes now, just sitting in the guest room, on the bed, writing down more songs. I feel myself having a slither of doubt about my master plan, but I push it aside, deciding that I will just hold back another few days to hear out for any more information. The coughing fit my father had today shook me to the bone as I know that my father hung around a group of people who smoked, and second hand some is just as powerful as smoke straight from the actual cig, so I wonder if all that smoke has finally gotten to him.
“Shut the fuck up brain,” I mutter to myself.
My dad does not have lung cancer. If anyone in my family was to get it, it would be Auntie Lyn-Z or Uncle Gee, not my dad. But maybe.
“Kobra?” I jump and turn around to see Lyn-Z standing in my door way, “You want some lunch?”
“Sure,” I shrug, jumping off the bed and following her down to the kitchen.
“Bandit will be stopping by later,” She tells me, getting out the bread and spreads.
“Cool,” I say, sitting at the breakfast bar, looking around, “Hey, where is Uncle Gee?”
“Oh,” She says, turning to me, “He has gone down to get more art supplies for the new comic he is working on.”
“Didn’t he just publish one like the other day?” I ask, picking up the PB&J sandwich that was just placed in front of me.
“Yeah, but it is Gerard,” My Aunt laughs, “I swear that man has ADD.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, taking a bite from the food I have been given.
“I think this needs to be said,” She sighs after a moment of silence, “On Monday you will start at school, and you will be going to the same high school Bandit went to.”
“Great,” I mutter under my breath, glaring at my food.
“Don’t worry,” She tries to comfort me, “Saint Wentz will be there to help you, and I think Lisa Urie goes there.”
“Oh, ok,” I say, kinda happy, but then kinda nervous.
I have only met Saint once, and that was when we were 12 at a recording studio, when my dad was working with Fall out Boy with something, and Lisa I have only ever talked to her on Twitter.
“Also,” Auntie Lyn-Z says, “Try not to make any homophobic jokes around Saint.”
“Yeah I know,” I say, finishing off the rest of my sandwich, “He is gay, he came out over Twitter so I know.”
“Oh good,” She sighs, “Last time someone said something homophobic around him that person had to deal with a very angry Pete Wentz.”
I laugh lightly, standing up, and putting my plate in the sink.
“Hey,” My aunt smirks, “You still play video games?”
“Uh, yeah,” I say in a duh-who-do-you-think-I-am voice.
“Good because I found an old copy of Super Smash Bros for the original Wii,” She tells me, causing my face to light up, “You wanna try it out?”
“Hell yeah!” I beam, “But let me warn you, I ain’t gonna go easy on you.”
“Ha, you actually think you can beat me in this game?”
“I don’t think. I know I can.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I laugh at her determination and run into the lounge room, jumping onto the couch.
Auntie Lyn-Z comes in a short while later, game in hand, smirk on her face. She sets up the Wii and TV, putting the game into the console and handing me a remote.
“Best of 9, loser has to clean the kitchen,” I am told.
“Sure, but we all know you’re gonna get SMASHED!” I throw back, gripping my controller with excitement.
She laughs at me, pressing play, and opening up character select.
“I BAGS LINK!” I yell, locking it in as me as Link.
“Then I shall be Bowser,” She says.
We press play, and the game is on.
We fight on the world Picto-Chat, and as soon as the game says go, it is a fight to the death. I shot my arrows, slash my sword and laugh when I push Lyn-Z off the edge, killing her. She respawns, breathing fire and swiping her claws, soon knocking me off the edge.
“POWER BALL!” I scream, making my character jump up to get the multi-coloured ball.
“I DON’T THINK SO!” She yells, allowing her character to chase after me.
I get the power ball, and press 2 on the remote controller. I shot an arrow THE WRONG WAY!!!!!!
“NO!” I scream, jumping off the couch, “NO! NO! NO! NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“HAHA!” She laughs, pushing me off the edge of the world, killing me.
“CHEATER!” I scream at her.
“LOSER!” She responds, as the battle ends and declares her victorious.
I go to respond, but before I can, their cat Mitch starts meowing like crazy running to the door, where a jangle of keys is heard, the door soon swings open.
“Um?” Uncle Gee says, arm full of bags and a very confused expression.
I look over at Auntie Lyn-Z before cracking up. She follows in my lead as we fall back onto the couch in stitches.
“Right,” Gerard says slowly, “You guys can continue with what you are doing, just as long as you keep it down as I have to work.”
“Okay Sweetheart,” My aunt smiles, before sitting up and declaring that we finish the bet.
“You’re on,” I smirk, knowing I will win.
8 rounds later, I am left claiming Lindsey Way to be a cheater. I lost, 4-5.
"Yeah so I have to stay at my stupid uncle’s for a couple of months to ‘heal the wound’. Whatever the fuck that means.” I groan down the phone to Jackson, my only true friend.
“Damn, that sucks dude,” He responds.
This is what I love about Jackson, he takes my side on basically everything. When we were six and smashed the living room window, he took my side and blamed it on teens throwing rocks outside. When we were ten, I failed my test and he told my parents that everyone did awful in the test. When we were thirteen, I was forced to therapy for the first time and he help stand up to my parents saying that if I was forced to do something, it won’t help.
No matter what, Jackson Kenan Toro has always taken my side.
“Well, I better get going,” I sigh, looking at the time, “I have to get ready to go to Gerard’s.”
“Good luck,” He wishes me, before saying his final goodbye and hanging up the phone.
I sigh, throw my phone on my pillow, and get up, double checking I have everything.
Clothes, Check.
Guitar, Check.
DS, Check.
Secret bag, Check.
Yep, from the looks of it I have all the necessities.
“KOBRA! YOU READY?!” My dad calls from downstairs.
“Yeah,” I sigh, more to myself than my dad.
I grab my bags, and rush down the stairs to the front door where my parents are. My mum is staying home as she has to go to work later on, and my dad is going to be taking me, just so he can talk to my uncle for a bit.
“Goodbye sweetie,” My mum says, tears in her eyes, “Be safe my baby.”
I am pulled into a strong hug, with my mum breathing heavily, trying to holding in her cries.
I almost don’t want to do what I have planned, but I have to. If I put it off, I will never do it, and then I will be stuck with him for the rest of my life.
“Don’t worry mum,” I say, hugging her back, “You won’t have to worry about me.”
She lets out a choked sob, pulling away, smiling at me. She brushes her hand lightly over my cheek, her cold fingers ghosting over the bruise left from my father’s hand.
“Let’s go Kobie,” I hear my dad sigh, clearly upset about the mark his hand left.
“Ok,” I sigh, turning back to my mother, giving her one final hug, “I am going to miss you.”
She nods in return, mouthing a quick ‘I love you’, before rushing to the kitchen.
I sigh, before I pick up my bags and turn to face my dad.
“Let’s go,” I sigh, looking down at the ground.
I hear my dad intake a breath of air, but his words get lost in a horrendous coughing fit. Rough, wet coughs erupt from his throat, and for that short 30 seconds he coughs, I feel a sickening feel of despair and horror.
“Mikey?” My mum asks after he catches his breath, having come back in from kitchen as soon as she heard the coughs, “How long?”
“Since last week,” I hear his scratchy voice respond.
Fear fills me up to the brim. What does this mean? Is my dad sick?
“Daddy?” I ask, shaking, voice small and soft.
“It’s okay Kobie,” He tells me, giving me a sad smile, “I’m okay.”
I nod, picking up the discarded bags, and walking out the door.
“Be safe,” I hear my mum whisper to my dad, before I throw my shit in the car, hopping in myself, shortly followed by my dad.
“Right,” He sighs, voice still horse, “Let’s get going.”
He starts the car, pressing start on the CD player. The sweet sounds of Queen, The greatest Hits album, fills the car. I lean back in the passenger seat and let the sound of David Bowie and Freddie Mercury voices singing in sweet harmony, take over my worried brain.
Time skip, Gerard’s house, 1:06PM.
I have been at my uncles for just over 30 minutes now, just sitting in the guest room, on the bed, writing down more songs. I feel myself having a slither of doubt about my master plan, but I push it aside, deciding that I will just hold back another few days to hear out for any more information. The coughing fit my father had today shook me to the bone as I know that my father hung around a group of people who smoked, and second hand some is just as powerful as smoke straight from the actual cig, so I wonder if all that smoke has finally gotten to him.
“Shut the fuck up brain,” I mutter to myself.
My dad does not have lung cancer. If anyone in my family was to get it, it would be Auntie Lyn-Z or Uncle Gee, not my dad. But maybe.
“Kobra?” I jump and turn around to see Lyn-Z standing in my door way, “You want some lunch?”
“Sure,” I shrug, jumping off the bed and following her down to the kitchen.
“Bandit will be stopping by later,” She tells me, getting out the bread and spreads.
“Cool,” I say, sitting at the breakfast bar, looking around, “Hey, where is Uncle Gee?”
“Oh,” She says, turning to me, “He has gone down to get more art supplies for the new comic he is working on.”
“Didn’t he just publish one like the other day?” I ask, picking up the PB&J sandwich that was just placed in front of me.
“Yeah, but it is Gerard,” My Aunt laughs, “I swear that man has ADD.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, taking a bite from the food I have been given.
“I think this needs to be said,” She sighs after a moment of silence, “On Monday you will start at school, and you will be going to the same high school Bandit went to.”
“Great,” I mutter under my breath, glaring at my food.
“Don’t worry,” She tries to comfort me, “Saint Wentz will be there to help you, and I think Lisa Urie goes there.”
“Oh, ok,” I say, kinda happy, but then kinda nervous.
I have only met Saint once, and that was when we were 12 at a recording studio, when my dad was working with Fall out Boy with something, and Lisa I have only ever talked to her on Twitter.
“Also,” Auntie Lyn-Z says, “Try not to make any homophobic jokes around Saint.”
“Yeah I know,” I say, finishing off the rest of my sandwich, “He is gay, he came out over Twitter so I know.”
“Oh good,” She sighs, “Last time someone said something homophobic around him that person had to deal with a very angry Pete Wentz.”
I laugh lightly, standing up, and putting my plate in the sink.
“Hey,” My aunt smirks, “You still play video games?”
“Uh, yeah,” I say in a duh-who-do-you-think-I-am voice.
“Good because I found an old copy of Super Smash Bros for the original Wii,” She tells me, causing my face to light up, “You wanna try it out?”
“Hell yeah!” I beam, “But let me warn you, I ain’t gonna go easy on you.”
“Ha, you actually think you can beat me in this game?”
“I don’t think. I know I can.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I laugh at her determination and run into the lounge room, jumping onto the couch.
Auntie Lyn-Z comes in a short while later, game in hand, smirk on her face. She sets up the Wii and TV, putting the game into the console and handing me a remote.
“Best of 9, loser has to clean the kitchen,” I am told.
“Sure, but we all know you’re gonna get SMASHED!” I throw back, gripping my controller with excitement.
She laughs at me, pressing play, and opening up character select.
“I BAGS LINK!” I yell, locking it in as me as Link.
“Then I shall be Bowser,” She says.
We press play, and the game is on.
We fight on the world Picto-Chat, and as soon as the game says go, it is a fight to the death. I shot my arrows, slash my sword and laugh when I push Lyn-Z off the edge, killing her. She respawns, breathing fire and swiping her claws, soon knocking me off the edge.
“POWER BALL!” I scream, making my character jump up to get the multi-coloured ball.
“I DON’T THINK SO!” She yells, allowing her character to chase after me.
I get the power ball, and press 2 on the remote controller. I shot an arrow THE WRONG WAY!!!!!!
“NO!” I scream, jumping off the couch, “NO! NO! NO! NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“HAHA!” She laughs, pushing me off the edge of the world, killing me.
“CHEATER!” I scream at her.
“LOSER!” She responds, as the battle ends and declares her victorious.
I go to respond, but before I can, their cat Mitch starts meowing like crazy running to the door, where a jangle of keys is heard, the door soon swings open.
“Um?” Uncle Gee says, arm full of bags and a very confused expression.
I look over at Auntie Lyn-Z before cracking up. She follows in my lead as we fall back onto the couch in stitches.
“Right,” Gerard says slowly, “You guys can continue with what you are doing, just as long as you keep it down as I have to work.”
“Okay Sweetheart,” My aunt smiles, before sitting up and declaring that we finish the bet.
“You’re on,” I smirk, knowing I will win.
8 rounds later, I am left claiming Lindsey Way to be a cheater. I lost, 4-5.
Ooh this is interesting! Update soon please!
(And about the BFF video, I'm pretty sure it's Miles. I don't know anything for sure but it would make sense if it was.)
10/16/16