Back In The Day - Chapter One
So, I originally post this on Ficwad, and it got some pretty good reviews on there. I thought I'd see how you guys like it!
I admit, I really have no idea how to use LiveJournal, but with any luck it shouldn't be too disastrous!
Hope you enjoy!
Sx
>Gerard's POV<
The sun shone through the car window, tormenting me by completely opposing my mood. There should be thunder and lighting, preferably with some pissed off screamo music playing full volume in the background. Instead, I had vibrant colours and the car was driving by laughing people, most of whom were in swimwear. On the right side of the car, I could see a glimmering white beach, palm trees lining the sidewalk. The sea - a magnificent blue sparkled and stretched into the distance. The surface was dotted with people swimming in the sunshine warmed water and magnificent white boats, rocking gently in the waves. This was my new home and I already hated it.
To most people - ordinary people - this would be some sort of paradise. For me it was hell. From the moment the plane touched down, I knew I was going to hate California. Too hot to wear my preferred black hoodies, too sunny to stay pale and too cool for me to ever fit in.
Okay, I wasn't exactly the most popular guy in the world back in New Jersey but at least I had my younger brother, Mikey, and best friend, Ray. We hung round together at school with the other so-called losers, who were dubbed 'geeks' and 'emos' simply because they cared about getting good grades or had a decent music taste. As we drove along I couldn't see one person who fitted in with my idea of halfway decent. The guys were all sporty jocks, and the girls; all blonde bimbos. No one looked real - it was like being on a life sized movie set. I bit on my lip as I pictured my brother. He was my best friend. The one who helped me when I was too drunk to help myself, the one who helped me hide the worst of my problems to protect me from my parents' anger. The one who eventually outed me when my problems were beyond his help and hiding them was impossible.
Here, I had no one. No one apart from my Uncle John, whom I hadn't seen in God only knows how long. He was the one driving the car whose window I was staring out, already wishing I'd managed to have enough common sense to keep sober for more than one night in a row. I'd messed up so badly; and I knew it. Now I was reaping me rewards.
"So... Gerard?" My uncle asked hesitantly, glancing over his shoulder. "You ok back there?" I nodded and shrugged. I was not in the mood for small talk.
"You didn't bring much," he pressed on. "Are your parents sending the rest?"
"Yeah," I sighed. "Though with any luck I shouldn't be here that long."
"Well that's a relief." I looked surprised at John's words. "What?" He asked, having obviously caught sight of my face in the rear view mirror. "Having a alcoholic seventeen year old living under my roof isn't exactly ideal, you know?"
I blinked. It wasn't many adults who were that straight with you and I appreciated it. At least John wasn't a liar. For a man in his mid-forties he was actually quite cool - he owned a tattoo parlour and Iron Maiden was currently playing through the car stereo. Despite his entirely middle aged appearance of thinning brown hair and wrinkles where his tanned skin had seen too much sun, he was wearing a band tee and loose jeans that had been artfully ripped. Although I couldn't understand how anyone could wear jeans in this heat, there was a possibility we'd actually be able to get along.
"Let's just focus on getting you clean." John continued. "You'll have to help out in the shop and make your own way to school, but that shouldn't be too difficult. Other then that, you'll be living under my roof so you follow my rules." I nod, though he did not phrase it as a statement.
"Good." He nodded back at me, parking the car by the side walk. As he got out of the car, I followed, blinking slightly in the bright sun that threatened to blind me. I leaned back in the car and grabbed my sun glasses, before slamming the door closed. John was already walking into the building in front of us. It was completely unremarkable; two stories high with a large glass window running along the front of the bottom floor. In the window there were different designs displayed, along with the costs for various tattoos. The glass door had a sign in the window proclaiming the shop to be closed but I walked up to it and followed my uncle in.
The shop was bright inside - probably due to the large windows at the front - and I could see John standing in a corner talking to a short boy who was leaning against one of the walls. I couldn't help but gape slightly. The boy had tattoos, literally hundreds, all up and down his arms. From where he was standing I could see he had another on his neck, this one a scorpion. He also happened to be one of the most gorgeous beings I'd ever seen - guy or girl. The skin that was not covered by the black skinnies and t-shirt he was wearing was tanned from the California sun, but he wasn't overly bronzed like so many seemed to find attractive. His hair was jet black and curled around his face, one side covering his eye. The other I could see was a deep, chocolaty brown and sparkled with life, though his face looked bored. In short, he was perfect.
Suddenly, those eyes snapped over to me and I blushed and ducked my head, embarrassed at having been caught staring. Oh well, it wasn't the first time.
John continued to talk to the boy for a few more minutes, his words too low for me to hear, though his tone was obviously sharp. The guy just looked bored though, his gaze shifting round the room and responding with only the occasional shoulder shrug or murmured word.
At last, my uncle sighed, giving up, and walked toward where I was hovering awkwardly, motioning for the boy to follow. He did so, eyeing me up and down in the process and smirking slightly. This made me blush and feel slightly light headed at the gorgeousness of his smirk.
"Right," John said, matter-of-factly. "Gerard, this is Frank. Frank, Gerard"
"Yeah, I kinda guessed after you called him that." Frank was smirking again, drawling his words, eyes still on me. I smiled, and waved at him awkwardly. This made him raise an eyebrow, and run his eyes over me again - this time sceptically - before shoving his own hands in his pockets. I could feel myself turning red again at this unfriendly gesture that made it clear just how pathetic Frank thought I was. Although he barely came up to my nose, the guy had more presence than ten of me put together.
John rolled his eyes before addressing me again. "Frank works here and rents one of the rooms in my house. You'll be seeing a lot of him."
At this my head snapped up. Seeing a lot of Frank? I wasn't sure whether to break into an over joyed dance or die of mortification. I mean, the guy was gorgeous, but all too obviously not interested. I compromised by nodding and then resumed gazing at my shoes. "Well boys. Wait here, I'm just grabbing some stuff from the back then we'll head to mine." I heard his footsteps walk away and kept my shoes in sight.
"What's so interesting 'bout the floor, then?" I heard a voice in my ear and looked up to see Frank's face barely an inch from mine. I jumped back, shocked and he cackled mischiefly. "Well?" He prompted.
"N-nothing." I mutter, wishing to God I could control my blood and stop it making so many journeys to my face. Why couldn't I be cool like Frank?
"Well why don't you be polite and start up a conversation? It's only manners you know." He drawled, his smirk now evil.
Immediately I felt my embarrassment change to anger. "Fuck off! I've had one hell of a day and do not need it made worse by some jumped-up idiot."
Frank looked shocked for a split second before laughing. "Oh Gerard, we are going to get along just fine..." The way he said it made my skin crawl.
>Frank's POV<
I couldn't help but like this kid. He was clearly way out of his comfort zone - that much was obvious by the way he kept his eyes glued to his feet as though taking his eyes off them would result in him blowing up or something equally ridiculous. This kid was gonna have to man up or the people at out school would eat him alive. Twice.
Either way, he was kinda cute, I had to admit. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, falling in a black mass to his shoulders. From the few glances I had of his eyes, I'd made them out to be hazel and outlined with a small amount of black. He was wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a massive hoody. I could see little of his skin, but it was a pallid white colour contrasting nicely with the black. He was gonna fry though if he kept on dressing like that. And have the shit beaten out of him. That is assuming he was going to my school. I realised then I had no idea how old this kid was, or how ended up stuck in California when he clearly didn't want to be. I had a feeling John explained it all to me earlier, but since when had I been known to pay attention to anything?
"Hey, dude!" I snapped at Gerard. He jumped about a foot in the air making me smirk again. "How old are you?"
He glared at me for a few second before deciding that the question wasn't too offensive. "Seventeen." He replied. "You?"
"Sixteen. If your going my school, you'll been in the year above me."
He looked slightly surprised at this and I scowled. I know I'm short but seriously, do I look twelve? We spend the remaining few seconds before John walks in, in a tense silence, Gerard staring at his shoes, me staring at him.
"Come on boys. Let's get going!" John said cheerily, obviously ignoring the atmosphere in an attempt to make things a little more comfortable. Gerard shuffles out after him and cringes when the mid-afternoon sunlight hits him. He is the kinda kid I'd love to pick the shit out of but I had a feeling that would be the mutual feeling at school and he'd have enough problems without his new roomie helping out. Still, that didn't mean I couldn't make life uncomfortable for him. Yes, I was a bit of a sadist.
I follow him out and pretend not to notice that he got in the car on the side closer to the shop. I open the door next to Gerard and swing in, plonking myself in his lap. In doing so I make sure that one of my elbows pokes into his ribs.
"Ow!" I hear him squeak behind me and laugh at the high pitch of his voice. "Get off me!" Gerard orders me pushing roughly at me whilst I laugh breathlessly.
"Sorry G! Didn't see you there!" I grin. I climb over his knees and sit on the opposite side of the car. He's scowling at me and that just makes me grin harder.
John turns round in the driver's seat to glare at me. I shrug and he starts up the ignition. Deciding it might be a good idea to lay off this kid for a bit, I settle back and plug in my headphones. Various punk songs pump through my head and I start planning different way I could torture Gerard. Or at the very least, annoy the living shit out of him.
The scenery flashed past the car's windows, all bright and cheerful as we drove to the slightly seedier side of town. This is where John lived, and I'd been put up since being kicked out. I scowl at the thought and this makes me more determined to bug Gerard, make him feel some of the pain and annoyance I had in me.
When the other two got out the car I hesitated. It was bad enough living with John without an annoying new kid taking up even more room. Still, it's not like I had any choice in the matter. I sighed and swung the door open. Gerard and his uncle were unloading his luggage - the grand total of two bags. I leaned against the car, not bothering to help.
They headed towards the door of John's house. It's a large thing, made of red brick and three floors high. John used to rent the two rooms on the top floor out to people and that's where I'd been living for the past few weeks. Now I'd have to share. I growl at the thought. Worse part of this being I'd have to keep the noises of certain night time activities low. Or I could just freak Gerard. Perhaps he'd even want to join in. Who knew?
I smirk slightly as follow the two older men in. John turns to me. "Frank. Can you help Gerard with his stuff? He'll be sharing the top floor with you." I groan. That is exactly what I'd been afraid of. As long as he didn't rat me out I supposed I'd be ok, but there was always a chance...
I saw him blush again when I groaned and wondered how the hell he was a year older than me and had that little self confidence. I shrugged and grabbed the smaller of the two bags without bothering to say anything to either of them.
Admittedly, dragging the case up two flights of stair was not easy, even if it was only small. The shape of the God damn thing was the worst - it kept on twisting round in my grip making the angle of my wrist really painful. Plus, even though it looked small, the thing weighed a fucking tonne. I was panting by the time I reached the top floor that me and Gerard were destined to share.
As I leant on the blue wallpaper, he came up behind me. I was amused to see he was even more out of breathe than I was. Without a word, I jerked my thumb at the door behind me; indicating that it was my room (the bigger of the two). Then I dumped his bag on the landing and walked into his with a vague suspicion that I'd scattered some of my mess in there in the four weeks I'd had this floor to myself.
After I'd grabbed my stuff (nothing special - just a few shirts and magazines) I walked back out on to the landing, only to find it empty of both Gerard and his cases. What the fuck? I strode into my own room and saw the kid standing in there, looking rather confused.
"Are you retarded or something?!" I yelled, smirking when he started.
"W-w-what?" Gerard stuttered. "You pointed in here and then walked into the other room! I assumed this was mine!"
"No, you dumb-ass! I was tellin'' you this is my room, but I left some of my shit in yours so had to go and get it!"
"Well you made that incredibly clear!" He fumed back.
"Oh for fuck's sake! When you walked in here did you not notice the posters?" I asked, sneering at the boy in front of me. His pale skin had turned bright red - he was that angry. And I loved it so much that it was me who made him feel like that. Ok, maybe I'm more than slightly sadistic. "Maybe the fact the bed had been slept in?" I took a step forward, and Gerard mirrored my actions by taking one back. The sadistic part of me grinned. "The CD player?" Another step forward, another back. "The clothes?" More steps. "The magazines? The book case? The shit lying all over the desk?" By this point Gerard's back was pressed up against the wall. He was clearly afraid as he was angry. Funny really, considering he was nearly a head taller than me. In the back of my mind I remember my earlier thought of not picking the shit out of this kid. Oh well - it was only his first night. "Get out!" I hissed and stepped back, allowing him to dart around me and struggle with the two cases. I didn't offer to help - I just stood there and watched him leave.
After he left my room, I turned and collapsed on the bed. Obviously, I couldn't show it when he was in the room, but that kid was just too cute. There was just something about the way I could terrify him by being remotely threatening. The way his eyes grew and his lips quivered when he was terrified. I laugh out loud at the thought. I really was gonna have fun with this kid - when I got bored of scaring and irritating him, I'd fuck him. When I was bored of that - who knew? I was sure I'd find something amusing... Again with the sadism... I'm sure I wasn't usually this bad. Meh.
I just lay on my bed for a bit, thinking about nothing in particular. When I got bored of this I reached over for my iPod. I plugged it into the speakers and turned up the volume to full. I scrolled through the list until I found the heaviest, screamo music on there before hitting play. I knew Gerard would be able to hear it but he could either like it or lump it. I vaguely wondered which it would be before the slashing guitar took over my train of thoughts and I began head banging like there was no tomorrow.
>Gerard's POV<
I sighed when I heard the sudden rip of a guitar accompanied by the scream of lyrics that were impossible to make out. I considered asking Frank to turn the volume down but I had a shrewd feeling that it wouldn't make any difference.
Plus, the guy scared me. Ok, I know I was being a pussy but I couldn't help it. I had never met a more intimidating man in my life. Between his tattoos and facial piercings, he looked like some sort of gangster. But then, no gangster would ever have a face that sweet or a haircut that fell around their face and made them look positively adorable. No, when Frank was angry earlier it was his eyes that made him scary. The chocolate colour seemed to darken and spit flames at the person he looked at with such hatred - me. And behind that I could see a deep sense of satisfaction as though reducing me to a quivering victim gave him a deep sense of pleasure. I kicked the wall angrily.
No wonder he didn't live with his parents anymore - he was a psychopath and they'd probably kicked him out. There was not doubt about the fact Frank was dangerous... and intriguing. I groaned. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why did I always seem to fall for the wrong people; guys and girls alike? The dude terrified me and yet I still thought about getting into his pants? I should be committed.
In an attempt to get my mind off the whole thing, I turned to my cases and started to pull out my stuff. As John had previously noted, I hadn't brought much and would probably have to get Mum and Dad to mail me some stuff. However, I had what was most important to me - my iPod and several CDs for music. My laptop and phone so I could contact home. Clothes, for obvious reasons (to wear? duh!). My art set, including pencils and chalk, as well as some unfinished drawings. I also had several pictures of my family and one or two of the few friends I had. I sighed as I thought of them. But not because I missed them... Because I had a pair of chocolate brown eyes spitting flames in the front of my mind.