*******Two beautiful months later********

“What do you mean you don’t want company over G?! We always have movie night just me and you, for once- let’s spice it up, yeah?”
“Mikey no!” I complained again, but not really putting forth effort, knowing Mikey had won before it fucking began.
“We are 5 minutes away. You’ll love him G, I swear.”
“Yeah, Yeah” I sighed and closed my flip phone and maybe rolling my eyes and mumbling something along the lines of “Little brothers are so overrated. I wanted a puppy”


Mikey just couldn’t understand, and I didn’t expect him to. I never told him. I never told him about the day I met Frank for the third time, recognized him, and then called him by his real name dashing away before he could even say a word. I couldn’t believe that Frank had got himself in such a shit job. The reason I didn’t want company was because today on my YouTube recommendations list, a LeATHERMOUTH interview came up, and of course I want to hear about this new band that is surfacing. Then Franks face graces the screen and I almost shit my pants because seriously, I had just fucking barely survived the ‘dying of embarrassment’ the first damn time I saw him on the video. But this is my life, and the universe hates me, and the interviewer asks Frank:

Q: What were you doing before LeATHERMOUTH?”

A: *giggle* Funny story that is not-so-funny. I was a male stripper because I was so desperate for money and just having such a hard time in life. I was visited by someone on accident. See, he stumbled in looking for a comic convention or something equally as geeky, and he was pretty cute and so of course I do my job and coil around him he says no continuously. Then gives me like $250 and tells me to do something great or something. So I push him into the booth and start listing all the shit $250 just got him and he says “no do something good for yourself, you deserve better” or some shit like that. And fuck- it just stuck. I invested that money and if it weren’t for that amazing guy, I would have absolutely never ended up sitting here right now.

Of course, this information causing me to spit out my drink, chain smoke a half a pack, drink 5 cups of coffee and pace. He definitely blindsided me-again.

I poured myself another glass of coffee and put in my sex creamer (Mocha creamer) and two spoonfuls of sugar because I am such a fucking Fag like that. I giggled at my vulgar language and lit up a smoke, watching the smoke slither its way into the room, polluting the coffee stained air, and filling your senses with its smell. It was almost hypnotizing to watch it curve and twirl and couture. It reminded me of two dancers. Dancing to me always seemed so sexual. There was such an intimacy included with two partners. The way they knew which step was next, the way their bodies swayed together in elegance, the way they flowed like water and had the grace of an angel. Something was so damn mesmerizing about the way the twirled and dipped and basically just did something with such beauty. It took so much more than practice to do that. Dancing was amazing, just like all the other Arts.

My thoughts of elegance and dancers were cut off by the door opening. I walked over to the door to greet my beloved brother and felt the coffee mug drop to the ground, shattering and spreading coffee everywhere. My mouth went slack, cigarette still hanging in my limp hands.
Frank Iero stood in my foyer, and I now had proof that yes, god did hate gays, and the universe was out to get me. Mikey gave me a crazed look and yelled “What the fuck Gerard?” I mumbled something like ‘shit’ and got a towel sopping up the floor and picking up glass, telling Mikey to go start something bloody and low budget. Frank lingered a bit, but went into the living room of our apartment to watch the slasher movie of tonight. I wanted to bawl my eyes out at my shit luck. I mean seriously it was not natural to have this bad of a life. What the hell?

I threw the stupid wash rag in the sink and sat down on the couch/seat next to the couch Frank and Mikey were sitting on, when suddenly a high pitched squeal erupted, and my head shot to the movie, but no blood was spewing. Before I could search for other options for the shriek I heard, someone was sitting on my fucking lap. I looked over and my stomach fucking might as well have been shot through my ass. I looked at Frank insidiously and looked over at Mikey, who- like the unhelpful bastard he is- fucking shrugs. “Spider!” Frank explains. As if this makes it a good reason to be sitting on my lap. “It crawled away. Now go back to the couch. There is no room on this seat for two people.” I said surprised I wasn’t a stuttering fucking mesh on the floor. “Mmp. Nope. Not going back on that couch.” Frank pouted childishly and wiggled his butt causing me to die and hold my breath, and then he leans back. I close my eyes, rub them, and look back down and woe is fucking me because there is Frank Iero, ass on my lap, head on the arm rest, and feet on the armrest on the opposite side, his soft ass lying too close to my dick for fucking comfort. “Oh!” Frank says suddenly and I jump out of my skin because who fucking does this shit? “Frank Iero” He says. And I gulp and simply reply “Gerard” I almost throw up as I watch Frank’s face go from ‘that sounds familiar, where do I know you from?’ to ‘Oh my god, no way. Could it be?’ To ‘No way, not possible’ and he nods at this phase of denial and continues to watch the Horror movie, Unaware that my skin crawls the whole time. Unaware that I dyed my hair red.

As the credits roll I pull Frank’s ass up and slide out looking down at him and feeling tears well up in my eyes. When I walk into my room, I don’t lie down and jerk off, because I am not a creeper. But I can’t I didn’t cry a little overwhelmed because this situation sucked so fucking bad. Hysteria began to flourish in my stomach. I reached under my bed, grabbed my journal and began to write a poem:

The Brutality of Morality

Though we own no intimacy
and though you walk through life blind to me
I feel you in every breath I take
And every day without you my heart will break
you left me fragments of what we could have been
When we parted ways, we left as friends
Every day you creep into my mind
As I see things that you would love
Or I see things that make me want someone to hug
And it drives me mad
And I wonder if it gets to as bad
That we breathe the same air
(It just isn’t fair)
And that we stare at the same sky
(I never wanted to say goodbye)
And we rest under the same moon
(I am screaming out to you)
And we live under the same sun
(I want you so badly Hun)
And we both share our mortality
(we have eyes, though this does not mean we both can see)
Dear god I miss your sent
I miss your lies
I miss never understanding what you meant
I miss the butterflies
And I miss feeling like I would be sick
I miss the brutality of what we should be
I miss you so badly
So I use this pen
And I wear my heart on my sleeve
In hopes that you will one day be here for and these you may read
So for today these words are forced to fit my pain
And until I see you again
My heart will be scared
With your name
-G/A/W –PANSY-

My eyelid were drooping from the exhaustion of crying and with a close of the book, sleep greeted me with open arms. I gladly accepted, with one thing lingering with me into my transition into sleep:

I miss being Pansy.

Notes

Woah this is 1,460 on Word Doc. How's that for longer motherfucker? Tell me if you like it or if you rather it have an alternate way of working?