Okay, third chapter is up and ready to go. I hope you enjoy it.

I am taking the weekend off at collage to visit my parents, Gerard and Lyn-Z. So far all has been awesome. Cherry and Lily haven’t destroyed the apartment as far as I am concerned, Mitch and Jupiter, my old cats, haven’t died yet, and my dad has just finished his latest comic. All is good.
“So then I walk back into the apartment,” I explain to my mum as we set the table for dinner, “And there is shit everywhere, like actual shit.”
“Oh god,” My mum laughs, setting down the final plate, “What did the twins do this time?”
“They had found a box of stray puppies, and decided to bring the home,” I laugh, causing my mum to crack up, “So they let them loose in the house, and they just crapped everywhere.”
“Sounds like Frank,” She snickers, and walks out of the dining room with me.
“Yeah,” I agree, sitting down on a stool in the kitchen, “Worst of all, we had an inspection the next day. It was like 11pm at night.”
“What did you do?” She asks, stirring the pot full of spaghetti.
“I walked out of the house, telling them it is their job and stayed at Bronx’s,” I explain, trying not to laugh too much.
“Did they do it?” My mum smirks, carrying the pot over to the sink to drain it of the water.
“Oh yeah,” I nod, “But they didn’t get rid of the smell. The whole apartment smelt like a crap farm for a month.”
“HAHAHA!” My mum cries, scooping the noodles, and putting them into a large ceramic dish.
“It sounds funny now, but try living in a house that smells that bad,” I smirk, crossing my arms.
“Okay, okay,” She defends, putting her hands up, “Don’t get all Gerard Way sassy on me.”
I laugh.
“Speaking of him,” She says, picking up one of the dishes, “Could you go get him, dinner’s ready.”
“Okay,” I grin, jumping of the chair.
I run up the stairs, and down the hall. I reach my father’s office, and slowly open it. My dad is sat at his office chair, listening to David Bowie, drawing something.
“DADDY!” I yell, running up to him.
He jumps, but then turns around and engulfs me in a warm hug.
“Hey Lady B, what’s up,” He grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly.
“Dinner is ready,” I answer, not letting go from the hug.
“Seriously Bandit,” He laughs, turning off the music, “I don’t think you have aged since you were six.”
“Well at least I look older, Mr ‘My-face-hasn’t-changed-since-I-was-a-year-old’,” I sass back.
“ARE YOU TWO MONKEYS COMING, OR DO I HAVE TO EAT ALL THIS FOOD ALONE?!” My mum calls from downstairs.
“COMING LINDSEY DEAREST!” My dad calls back in a posh, high pitch voice.
I laugh at my father, and let go of him. We run out of the room, knowing this was now a race. A race to the death. Who could get to the food first?
We dash down the hall, my dad still in the lead, but not for long. I make a sharp turn, cutting off my dad, and bound down the stairs. He is hot on my tail, so I am going to have to lose him. I take the short cut through the lounge, leaving him confused as he carries on down the hall, towards the kitchen. I jump over the couch, it was risky but I landed it perfectly.
“I AM GOING TO BEAT YOU BANDIT!” I hear my dad call, as he races through the kitchen.
If I respond there is a chance it will cost me my chances of winning. I race into the dining room, just beating my dad by a millisecond.
“I AM THE CHAMPION!” I scream, jumping up and down, as my dad leans over and pants.
“NO!” He cries, falling to the ground. “Lights fading, breath disappearing, death coming.”
He falls limp, eyes closing, as he ‘dies’.
“HA!” I yell, dancing in a circle, “I WIN! I AM VICTORIOUS!”
“Okay,” My mum laughs, sitting down at the table, “That’s enough you two, it is dinnertime.”
We both take our seats laughing.
“I’ll get you next time missy,” My dad threatens, glaring at me playfully.
“I’ll like you see you try, old man,” I throw back.
“I said that’s enough,” My mum smirks, “Now, dig in, I made lots.”
I scoop a large amount of steamed vegetables onto my plate, followed by some noodles and a piece of vegetarian meatloaf. I grab the wine bottle, and pour myself a glass and hand it to my mum after. My dad sticks to his water.
“So Bandit,” My mum says after a bit, “How’s the Journalism going? Think you’re gonna stick with it?”
“Oh yeah,” I say, swallowing my mouthful of food, “It’s going great. I am thinking about doing interviews for Kerang or Rock Sound. I don’t really wanna do news stories, but I would love to interview different artist and bands.”
“Good choice,” My dad says, “Maybe you could talk to Mikey about interview his band?”
“Yeah,” I agree, “Or I could ask Frank about one of his bands.”
“Seriously,” My mum sighs, “I don’t know what’s worst, the amount of bands that man has, or the number of dogs he owns.”
I almost spit out my wine.
“Haha,” My dad chuckles, “Better not let Frank hear that.”
“Yeah,” My mum laughs, as I try to regain myself.
“Well-,” I am cut off by the phone ringing.
“I’ll get that,” I say and jump up.
I walk into the kitchen, where the phone sits, and pick it up. The caller ID says Way Jr, so I can only assume it is Uncle Mikey.
“Hey Uncle Mikey,” I say cheerfully, answering the phone.
“H-hey Bandit,” He stutters, voice cracking, “Can I talk to you father?”
“Um sure,” I say, my voice turning concerned, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” He deciares, but I hear him sniff from behind the phone, “Just put Gerard on please.”
“Okay,” I agree, then call out to my dad, “DAD IT’S UNCLE MIKEY! HE WANT’S TO TALK TO YOU!”
He comes into the kitchen soon after I called him.
“He sounds upset,” I frown as I hand the phone over.
He frowns with concern and puts the phone to his ear.
“Hey Mikes, you okay?” He says, voice laced with worry.
I faintly hear sobbing on the other end, and I see my father’s eyes widen.
“Hey, hey,” He says, walking out of the room, “What’s wrong buddy, talk to me?”
He leaves the room, and walks upstairs, probably to talk to him in privet. I stand there shocked for a few moments, before I decide to go back to the dining room and finish my meal.
“Hey honey,” My mum smiles, “Where’s your father?”
I look up at her and smile slightly, before I sit down in my seat.
“He’s gone upstairs to talk to Uncle Mikey,” I explain.
“Oh,” She frowns, knowing something must be wrong if he abandoned dinner to talk to him, “Everything alright?”
“I don’t know,” I sigh, picking up my fork, “Mikey sounded like he was going to cry, and then when dad answered, I swear I heard him crying.”
“Oh dear,” She gasps, putting a hand over her mouth, “Do you think he is having troubles with Kristin?”
“He shouldn’t be,” I say, shaking my head, “I stopped there on my way here, and they seemed very happy.”
“So Kobra then,” My mum sighs.
“Yeah,” I agree, “That’s the only explanation. I mean, I didn’t see him when I popped by, mainly cause he was at school, but it must be him.”
“Mikey loves that kid so much,” My mum mumbles, looking down at her food, “It would kill him if something happened to Kobra.”
“Yeah,” I nod, “And dad would be very upset too.”
“Hmm,” She hums in agreement.
We sit in silence as we resume eating out meal.
“Poor Mikey,” My dad mumbles as he enters the room after a while.
“What happened,” My mum asks, pushing more spaghetti into her mouth.
“It’s Kobra,” He sighs. I knew it, “Kobra made Mikey believe he was a bad father.”
“UNCLE MIKEY IS AN AMAZING FATHER!” I cry, looking up.
“Yeah well,” My dad continues, “I guess something is going on in Kobra’s mind, and he lashed out at him.”
“What did he say?” My mum ask, voice full of concern, dinner forgotten.
“He,” My dad sighs again, “He told Mikey that he is never there for him, that he always leaves cause he hates him. He called Mikey a drug addict, and called his mother a bitch.”
“Wow,” I mumble, slumping back in my chair, “What did Uncle Mikey do about it?”
“Nothing,” My dad sighs before continuing, “He just walked out of the room, straight to his studio before calling me. When I was talking to him, there was a loud bang and some yelling, and when I asked about it, he said Kobra was chucking a temper tantrum.”
“Kobra still does that?” My mum asked, shocked.
I remember when Kobra was younger, he would chuck these awful tantrums, where he would through things, scream, and mess everything up. I remember him throwing one at our house when I was twelve, as he had to stay at our house for a week while Mikey was in rehab.
“Apparently,” My dad said, “They must be pretty bad, as I was told that he probably pushed over his bookshelf.”
“Gosh,” I say, eyes wide with shock, “And I thought the one he had here when I was twelve was bad.”
“Yeah,” My dad mumbled, “Mikey is pretty torn up about it, so I told them that they could come here for a bit to stay with us. I hope that’s okay with you Lyn-Z?”
“It is perfectly fine,” My mum said, “You don’t even need to ask for permission from me. They are family. So when will they be coming?”
“They are coming up on Friday,” My dad answers, “They are gonna let Kobra have another week at school before they come up.”
“I can try and come over as much as possible,” I offer, sitting up a bit, “I only live around and hours’ drive away.”
“That’ll me lovely Bandit,” My mum smiles, “Maybe you can help out with your cousin, knock some sense into him.”
I nod my agreement, and go back to my dinner. We all stop talking and just enjoy the rest of our meal. The next few weeks with Kobra are gonna be disastrous.

Notes

This was 1772 words long. I am going to have quite a few chapters before Kobra goes to Gerard’s, but they’ll all be in different perspectives. Next chapter will be in Kobra’s, but won’t be up till tomorrow. I hope you are enjoy this story, and I will try and keep the updates quick, (Should be easy since I am on school holidays for 2 weeks). That’s enough for now so, BBBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!