Gerard and Frank Discover the Secrets of the Universe

First day of rehearsal. More ominous feeling than I would have imagined. It's almost like everything is starting tonight. Imagine if this was a book! Dear readers, this is when shit hits the fan. I love breaking the fourth wall. Gives me a sense that I control the world in a way.

"Gerard Way?" Mrs. Angel calls, and I shout out "Here!" In the process of which, earning a few glances from girls and guys. What can I say? People of all genders like me. I might not be bisexual, pan, or demi or anything like that, but they still think I'm hot.

Mrs. Angel sets the clipboard down, clapping her hands thrice. "Alright, party people!" She yells, quieting the lunch room immediately. "All crew go to the gym! Mr. Stern is going to tell you about your jobs. Background characters, go to Miss. Connors room. Lead roles, come to me."

All parties do as told, while I take Frankie's hand and we walk up to the stage together. "Alright. Gerard, you're Aristotle. Frank, you're Dante." She says, looking down and seeing our intertwined fingers. "You're together? This play is going to be so much easier!" She chants to the ceiling, earning a few laughs from the other leads.

"Miles Morris, Ari's dad. Mia Walker, Ari's mom. Daina Sana, Ileana. Janie Wright, Mrs. Quintana. Ian Han, Mr. Quintana. Correct?" We all nod, and I glance to Mia. She's a pretty girl. Hard to think of her as a mother. Miles, on the other hand; looks like a Disney Channel DadTM.

"Here are your scripts." Angel says, passing out a thick-ish pamphlet. I take two and hand one to Frank, flipping to the first page. The words, Dante can swim. Ari can't. Stands out to me. I can't swim, either. I'm not sure if that's a coincidence or not.

"We'll be doing a few read-throughs of the script today. Everyone take a seat."

I climb onto the stage, extending my hand for Frank. He takes it, and I help him up since he's so short. He stumbles towards me a bit, and I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before walking to the circle of chairs on stage. We take the two seats to the edge, while Mrs. Angel sits in the middle.

"Now, most of you aren't going to be in this scene, which is why we are reading through the first five or so. Daina, Janie, and Ian, don't get introduced till later." She adjusts the glasses perched on her olive-colored nose. "You're just going to get the backstory. Go."

- - -

An hour later, and I'm beaming. Based on the first scene, this is going to be an intimate play. Ari and Dante meet at the pool. Dante is teaching Ari to swim. So we'll be shirtless. I quite honestly can't wait for dress rehearsal.

Frankie told me a few minutes ago that he was grabbing something from his locker, and he'd be back in a few. It's been ten minutes now, and he should be back. So I decide to do what any logical boyfriend would do. I go looking for him.

The cafeteria is mostly empty by now. I slouch my backpack over my shoulders and make my way towards the Senior hall. I'm nearly to the lockers when I pass the Lounge. With a few glances to my left and right, I pull out the lockpick I keep with me and begin picking the lock.

I peer into the room, doing a quick scan of the lounge before closing the door and locking it again. I pass a few rooms, then I look into the locker area. No Frank. He must be in the bathroom, then. I backtrack, my eyes going door to door, skipping over classrooms and landing on the bathroom.

I open the door, letting it swing shut behind me before stepping forward and my heart breaks.

Frank is leaning against the wall, a wet paper towel in his hand. He's dabbing at his face, and the towel comes back red. A few small puddles of blood are accumulating more blood, feet away from Frank. I'm going to fucking kill whoever did this to him.

"Frankie, oh my god!" I drop to my knees on the hard floors, grabbing the towel from his hands and start dabbing his bloody lip. "What happened? Who did this to you?" I ask, studying his wide eyes. No words escape his lips, but something does escape his eyes.

Tears.

"Oh no honey please don't cry!" I whisper, wrapping my arms around him. A few small sniffles break the silence, and I feel a weak arm wrap around my waist. "Just tell me what happened, and I'll help you get better." How was I not here for him? I should have started looking for him sooner!

"I'm-" He sniffs again. "I'm so sorry!" He cries, burying his bleeding head into my shoulders. I squeeze him, then remember how he's hurt when he lets out a squeal. "No, no!" I say stroking the back of his hair. "Don't you apologize. None of this is your fault, see?"

"Yeah?" He asks, his fingers tracing patterns in my back. "Yeah." I answer, "None of this. If I had started looking for you earlier this wouldn't have happened! You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You had no way of knowing! But, who did this to you?"

I feel like I know what he's going to say. The bastard can't leave me alone for longer than a week. But though I knew what word would come out of his mouth, it still shocked me when he said it. It still shot a pulse of hatred through my spine when I hear that dreaded name.

"Bert."

My hands still, my body going rigid and locking Frank in my arms. "Don't make a big deal about it... Just brush it off, 'cuz I'm fine." Oh. No fucking way am I brushing this off and forgetting this ever happened. But what can I do? I can't tell him that I'm gonna seek out Bert and beat the shit out of him.

"Alright," I say, squeezing him lightly a few times. "I'll forget about it." Frank seizes up, pulling away from me. He starts shaking his head, his eyes closing then opening again. "No, you won't. Whenever you lie to me you squeeze me or my hand. You're gonna hurt him."

"And what if I do? What will you do?" I ask slowly, having absolutely no idea where he's going to go with it. "I don't like him, but I like you. But if you hurt him, I will leave you. Please just talk to him and don't resort to violence. And I want to come with you. I'm not leaving you alone with him, for more reasons than one."

1. You might hurt him
2. He might hurt you.
3. You might cheat on me.

I hear his unsaid words echoing through my mind, and I can't help but feel hurt. He thinks that I would cheat on him. With Bert. What ever made him think that?

"Let's go then. I'm not just gonna let this go."

- - -

We found him outside, taking a drag from a cigarette. Is that a... Lucky Strike? I tried a cigarette once, it was a Lucky Strike. Good taste, really smooth. God-why am I talking about cigarettes? I need to talk to this bastard.

"Hey, asshole." I say, "What the fuck was that stunt you pulled with my boyfriend?" He drops the cancer stick, stepping on the butt to put out the fire. "Oh, so you're mad now?" He puts his lighter in his back pocket. "What are you gonna do to me that won't make the midget break up with you?"

I raise my fist at the word midget, but I feel a small hand easing over my elbow and lowering my arm. "You can't hurt me. No one can. I'm invincible." He begins walking away, but I still have one more question for him. Just as he's about to put an earbud in, I ask it.

"Why did you do it?" I yell after him, Frank's hands wrapping around my arm to keep me with him. "What made you do it?" Bert turns around, walking backwards and spreading his arms wide. "Just practicing for my part. Your brother isn't the only once who read that book."

- - -

It's risky. I should have realized before. But I can't tell him now. I have to face my demons and hope for the best. They are probably waiting. They knew I had rehearsal but I'm late even with that. I thank my boyfriend as I close the car door, and I walk up to the door where they are waiting.

I seem to walk in slow motion as soon as I step over the threshold, suddenly becoming much more self-conscious of the dry blood on my lips. The blue spots on my neck. The red fabric on my white jacket. My parents are chopping away on carrots.

I greet them, waiting out the deadly moment when they see my marks. I won't try to run or hide. I've broken myself. My mother looks up from the cutting board, her eyes widening in fear, then confusion. She asks who did this to me. She doesn't ask how much it hurt for his fists and feet to repeatedly fly into my ribcage. The man that loves the man I love.

I tell her that a boy did this to me. She asks why. It's always who and why. Never how. Never how he sought me out and punched me till I was begging for him to just kill me. Just kill me already. Just kill me and take away my pain.

He wanted something I had. That's why. I don't tell her any more, instead walking upstairs to my room. A take a last glance at what I haven't thrown away for the last seventeen years. A guitar, an amp, a diary, a bag full of things needed for survival. I grab the latter and go back downstairs.

I tell them that the boy who wanted what I had wanted something I wouldn't give him. He wanted my significant other. He wanted my boyfriend.

I hear them dropping what they're holding, yelling at me to get out. But I'm already out. I'm out and never going back, I know where I'm going. I won't be able to get there until morning, so I'll sleep outside until I can. I'll make a lounge my home. A lounge that my boyfriend, Gerard, showed me a week or two ago. He won't find out.

He can't.

Notes

cliffhanger but that's ok