If You Can Make It Through This, MCR, Gerard/Brian, pg-13
Title: If You Can Make It Through This
Pairing: Gerard/Brian
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~14,000 words
Summary: The campus of Amcrest College Preparatory Academy was expansive, but once you got past the tennis, basketball and volleyball courts, lacrosse, football, track and soccer fields, baseball diamonds, picnic tables, stream full of colorful fish that the administration dumped in for realism, the commemorative fountain, commemorative statue and commemorative garden, there was a shallow forest at the edge of the grounds. INOK-verse story, featuring Gerard the sullen outcast and Brian the new kid. Lots of cigarettes are smoked and angst is had. Crushes and garage bands, I don't even know.
Author's note: lordessrenegade asked for Brian fic, and I always wanted to try my hand at an INOK story. Somehow 14,000 words came out. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about the whole thing. Thanks to storydivagirl for the beta and dracopet for listening to me gnash my teeth.
If You Can Make It Through This
by iamtheenemy
The campus of Amcrest College Preparatory Academy was expansive, but once you got past the tennis, basketball and volleyball courts, lacrosse, football, track and soccer fields, baseball diamonds, picnic tables, stream full of colorful fish that the administration dumped in for realism, the commemorative fountain, commemorative statue and commemorative garden, there was a shallow forest at the edge of the grounds. Technically students weren't allowed back there, but no one had said anything to Gerard in the three years he'd been going there - probably because they were as happy to have him and his loser friends sequestered off as he was to avoid dealing with the dickwads who went to school with him. In the middle of the Amcrest Forest was this gnarly-looking tree, some serious Sleepy Hollow shit. It was, in Gerard's opinion, the only awesome thing about the whole place - except for maybe the art room.
He and Mikey navigated their way across the four stones that made a bridge across the stream. Gerard vengefully stepped on a few orange orchids as they hiked to meet their friends. As soon as they entered the forest, Gerard could hear AC/DC playing, which meant that Ray got to pick the music that morning. Sure enough, when they got close enough, Gerard saw Frank and Ray sitting side by side with their backs against the wide tree trunk. Frank was smoking a cigarette and Ray had the portable CD player on his lap. Bob loomed above them, adjusting his skull cap with one hand and smoking with the other.
"Hey, bus late?" Ray asked when he saw them.
"When isn't it?" Mikey asked, tossing his backpack on the ground and sprawling out next to it.
"Your coffee's probably cold," Bob said, nodding down at the two Starbucks cups left in the holder by Frank's feet.
"Shit, thanks, though," Gerard said. Mikey handed one cup up to Gerard and kept the other for himself.
Gerard took a sip - Bob was right, it was lukewarm - and dug around in the pocket of his gray uniform slacks for his pack of Marlboro Lights and his lighter. Getting a cigarette out of the pack and lit one-handed was tricky, but Gerard had a lot of practice. He took his first long, satisfying drag of the day and tilted his head up to exhale. "How much time do we have?" he asked.
Frank looked at his cell phone and flinched. "Fifteen minutes, shit! I have a quiz in Chemistry first period. Fuck it, I think I'm just gonna ditch."
"You can't ditch," Mikey said from his place on the ground. "You have to take it and tell me what's on it."
Bob scoffed. "Like Frankie's gonna miss Chemistry anyway. Not when it's his only class with Jamia."
At her name, Frank sighed and dragged his hands through his messy brown hair. "She has a Misfits sticker on her binder, did I tell you that? She's so awesome."
Gerard focused on finishing his cigarette quickly so he could get in another one before the warning bell rang. He already knew enough about Jamia to write a fucking book, thanks to Frank's techniques of yearbook stalking, Facebook stalking and just plain stalking.
"Did you hear that there's a new kid?" Ray asked. The abrupt change in subject meant that he also wanted to interrupt Frank before he began his daily Ode to Jamia.
Amcrest had four hundred twenty-one students, so the once or twice a year when a new one transferred in, everyone knew about it. As soon as Gerard and Mikey made it off the bus that morning, they heard the gossip about the newest student to grace their hallowed fucking halls.
"Either his dad's a rock star or his mom's a model," Mikey said.
"Maybe both," Gerard added.
"How come when I came last year, everyone said it was because my dad got thrown in jail?" Bob asked.
"Because you're a poor kid that transferred in from a public school," Ray answered. "This guy just moved here."
Frank pulled his crumpled chem notes out of his pocket. "I need to study."
"Guitar Hero?" Bob asked the rest of them, holding up his handheld game.
"Hell yeah," Gerard answered.
*
First period European History was easily Gerard's worst class of the day. It was full of lacrosse players and cheerleaders, and Mrs. Verona loved to assign partner projects, leaving Gerard stuck with whatever asshole wasn't quick enough to pair up with someone else.
Mostly he hid behind hair and tried to become invisible for that hour before he could escape to Algebra II with Ray. Mikey was an office aid first period, so every once and a while he engineered an excuse to get Gerard out of class, but not often because they didn't want to get caught.
Over the intercom, the morning announcements started. Gerard opened his notebook and idly doodled while Mrs. Verona wrote notes on the chalkboard for them to copy. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and saw the new kid standing awkwardly inside the doorway. He had short, dark hair and serious-looking blue eyes that swept around the room. Mrs. Verona waved him in as the whispering started up around Gerard. When the announcements ended, Mrs. Verona tossed the chalk back on the ledge and smiled.
"Looks like we have a new student. What's your name?"
"Brian. Schechter," the new kid said.
"Well, hello, Brian, we're glad to have you. Feel free to sit wherever you can find an empty seat."
There were at least five open seats around the room, but Brian's eyes landed on the chair next to Gerard. Gerard stared back at him, heart inexplicably racing as the guy weaved his way through the maze of tables and chairs to reach Gerard. He made it all the way to the end of the table when from across the room, Christian Hobbs, who'd been torturing Gerard since freshman year, called out, "Hey, you don't want to sit over there. That guy's a freak!"
Gerard felt his face heat up as everyone snickered. He slumped down in his chair and let his hair cover his eyes, even as Mrs. Verona admonished the class for laughing. "Sit wherever you want, Brian."
There was a moment of silence, and then Gerard watched through his hair as the new guy turned away from him and sat in an empty chair a row over and two behind him. Gerard scowled and sunk down deeper behind the table. Asshole. Somehow, history class just managed to get worse.
*
Gerard spent all of Algebra complaining to Ray, all of third period Biology fuming about it silently and all of fourth period Advanced Art trying to work out his anger on his sketch pad. He refrained from actually drawing the new kid getting decapitated or eaten by zombies the way he really wanted to, because he got in serious trouble the last time he got caught doing that. By lunch, he had a rant all planned out in his head, and he marched purposefully across campus practicing it in his head.
All five of them had first period lunch. Frank didn't originally, but after some quick fiddling, and with Mikey's help in the office, they were able to get him in. After the third time that Frank got hit in the head with a football in one week, they gave up trying to eat in the designated area and instead met by their tree every day. It wasn't hiding; it was getting to eat their lunch in peace.
He opened his mouth to start in on his rant, then he got a good look at who was sitting at their usual spot and closed it with an audible clack. That asshole, the new kid, was there, sitting on Gerard's spot next to Mikey.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Gerard demanded, pulling everyone's attention to him. Ray was the only one who looked awkward, hopefully from the festering guilt of not telling the guy off when he should have.
"Oh, hey, Gerard, it's cool," Mikey said, pushing his glasses up his nose. He mistook Gerard's disgust for anger over a stranger eating with them. "Brian's that new guy everyone's been talking about. He's in my gym class. I actually had someone to play racquetball with today." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his inhaler, needing a puff just from the memory of it, apparently.
"Gerard and Brian have already met," Ray said.
"No we haven't," Gerard argued, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring sullenly at them.
"Oh yeah, right," the new kid said, like he just placed Gerard. "We have first hour together. You're Mikey's brother?"
Gerard snorted and refused to respond. Instead, he sat down on the ground and dumped his lunch onto the grass.
"What's your problem?" Mikey asked, rolling his eyes like Gerard was being the unreasonable one.
"He's a jerk," Gerard said. He took a huge bite from his salami sandwich to avoiding going into his whole prepared rant about spoiled, uncaring rich kids who get off on humiliating other people.
Brian looked down at his hands and grimaced. "I'm sorry about what happened at the beginning of the period. It was my first class on my first day at a new school. I didn't want to sit by..."
"A freak," Gerard finished for him. "I guess it's okay when we're hiding in a forest though, huh?"
Frank made a distressed sound and deliberately got up from where he was sitting next on Brian's other side to sit across from Gerard. After years spent getting shoved into lockers and made fun of for being the loud, short spaz with the weird hair, he was sensitive when it happened, even to over people. Gerard looked up at Mikey, hoping for a little younger brother solidarity, but all he got was Mikey rolling his eyes again and using his hand to comb his hair into an even more dramatic point over the bridge of his nose. Bob stood by as impassive as ever, and Ray had that watching-a-train-wreck-look that he sometimes got when someone called a girl a whore in front of Gerard or offered Frankie something with meat.
Brian raised his hands defensively and picked up his backpack and Coke. "Whoa, that's not what I meant at all. For all I knew, you were a serious, bodies in the basement kind of freak. But maybe I should go."
"Yes," Gerard said, at the same time Mikey said, "No." Gerard glared at him.
"Don't go," Mikey said. "He gets like this sometimes, it's fine. He doesn't like new people."
"I don't like assholes," Gerard clarified.
"Then how do you live with yourself?" Mikey asked sarcastically. Before Gerard could think of a response to properly convey his outrage, Mikey turned to Bob and said, "What was your big news?"
Gerard sucked down some of his Coke Zero and grinned thankfully when Frank tipped some rum into it from his ever-present flask. Frank was his only real friend. Gerard didn't know why he put up with the rest of them; even Mikey could go fuck himself.
He was pulled out of his reverie by the loud, "Holy shit!" that Ray let out.
"What?" he asked, looking around. "What is it?"
Bob kicked his thigh with one of his thick, black boots. "I said that my friend, Patrick, from Hudson, is having a Halloween party, and he wants us to play."
Gerard felt his stomach drop to somewhere around his knees. "Seriously? Like a real gig?"
Bob nodded, grinning slightly. "I mean, they wouldn't pay us or anything, but I figured..."
He was cut off by Frank's whoop of joy as he jumped off the ground and launched himself onto Bob's back. "Our first real gig! Bob, this is the best birthday gift ever! Come here, turn your head, I want to make out with you right now." Bob bucked Frank off his back and sent him stumbling into Mikey, but Frank didn't lose his grin. "I should invite Jamia."
Gerard saw Bob and Ray exchanged an amused look over Frank's head and knew what they were thinking. Frank would never get the nerve to say anything to her, and if he did, it would be buried so far beneath his nervous babbling that she wouldn't notice it anyway.
"Is that your girlfriend?" Brian asked, causing Bob, Mikey and Ray to laugh.
Frank was too lost in his excitement to remember that he was supposed to hate Brian with Gerard. Instead of staring at him in silent disdain, the way Gerard was, he answered, "No. She's a junior." That was said reverently, as if, with the exception of Mikey, who was also a sophomore, he wasn't hanging out with a group of seniors. "She listens to good music and she's really nice - not like all the other douches in this school."
"I don't think we're ready to play in front of people," Gerard said, partly to stop Frank before he got on a roll, but mostly because he was half-way to a panic attack.
"We've been practicing for almost five months," Ray argued. "And we've got all those new songs."
"That we've barely worked on!" Gerard argued.
"There's still almost a month until Halloween, Gee," Mikey said. Gerard ignored him, because he was a dick.
"You guys are in a band?" Brian asked. Gerard had almost forgotten the new kid was there in his brief moment of total, abject terror.
"Yeah, didn't I tell you?" Mikey asked. "Gerard sings, Ray and Frankie play guitar, I play bass and Bob's the drummer."
"Do you have a name?"
"My Chemical Romance," Ray answered.
Brian looked impressed, as he should have been. It was a fucking great name.
"I came up with it," Mikey said.
"You haven't played in front of anyone yet?" Brian asked.
Frank answered cheerfully, "We practice in my garage. My mom lets us because her and my dad got divorced and my mom feels all guilty about my pain or whatever." He said it jokingly, and the rest of them were nice enough not to mention how messed up he was about it last year when they first met him.
"Wow," Brian said.
"Yeah, my dad got me a car and a new guitar. I think he feels even worse than my mom, because he's the one who moved out."
"He got you a car?" Brian asked. "Sweet, what kind?"
"2003 Toyota Camry, cherry red. She's so beautiful, and this Halloween is my sixteenth birthday, so I'll finally be able to get my license and drive her. My mom's taking off work and letting me ditch school to go to the DMV. Hey, I'll totally be able to drive us to the party!"
"We wouldn't all fit into your little clown car," Bob said. "And where would we put our stuff?"
Frank grumbled for a moment and then lit up again, "I could swing by and pick up Ray, and you could pick up Gerard and Mikey in your stupid SUV."
"We have a long time before we have to figure it out," Ray hedged.
"Still, though," Frank said, beaming. "Our first gig and Halloween and my birthday all on the same day? Best day ever."
"You have to tell me where it is so I can see you guys play," Brian said.
Gerard stood up and grabbed what was left of his lunch. "I'm not hungry anymore," he said.
Frank looked at him guiltily, seeming to remember that he was supposed to be on Gerard's side. "I'll come with you."
*
The rest of the afternoon went by as slowly and painfully as ever. He had gym right after lunch with Bob, who gave him a look but didn't comment when he started talking about Brian.
"He was just like, 'Oh, never mind, I don't want to sit next to that freak,'" Gerard grumbled, throwing the basketball halfheartedly at the hoop.
"Did he actually say that?" Bob asked as he tossed the ball back.
Gerard dribbled once and shrugged. "No, but I could tell that's what he was thinking."
"Okay," Bob said. Gerard chose to take that as agreement.
*
After school, Gerard always had a good twenty minutes before the bus came to pick up him and Mikey. That day as he gathered his books and grabbed his hoodie, he saw the new kid walking down the hallway. As he watched, Christian and his bonehead lacrosse friends greeted the new kid with a fist bump and a tight arm around the shoulders: the universal symbol of dumbass jock friendship. Gerard snorted and ducked his head as he past them, giving himself a wide berth. The new kid tried to make eye contact with him, but he kept his eyes firmly on his boots.
Outside, Mikey was waiting at the end of the parking lot where the buses picked up. He had his headphones on and his blazer tucked under one arm. Gerard marched over to him and gave him a sturdy push, catching him off guard. He tore off his headphones and whirled around, glaring when he saw who it was.
"Thanks for all your help today," Gerard said.
Mikey shrugged, unrepentent. "You were being stupid."
"Why do you like this guy so much?" Gerard demanded.
"Why do you hate him so much?" Mikey countered, but before Gerard could start in on the detailed list he'd come up with in Biology, Mikey went on, "He was nice to me in gym. I haven't had anyone to pair up with in class all year. You aren't taking away my gym friend."
Gerard understood the value of having a gym friend - he almost fell over in pure relief and thankfulness when they compared schedules and he saw that he shared his class with Bob. Still, it wasn't worth putting up with a lacrosse player, even by proxy, for the convenience of a built-in racquetball partner.
"Besides, you were the same way about Bob when he first came."
Gerard rolled his eyes. Bob was fucking awesome, and he proved it his second week at Amcrest when he shoved Terrence Von Hauser into Frank's locker and got suspended. It had been pretty fucking awesome too. Terrence wasn't tiny like Frank, so it wasn't exactly an easy fit. Gerard doubted Brian would prove himself like Bob had.
The bus turned into the lot and Mikey put his headphones back on. The music was loud enough that Gerard could make out Frank Black singing "Velouria." Gerard pulled out his own iPod, blared some Morrissey and ignored Mikey all the way home.
*
The next day at school, Brian wasn't at their tree in the morning, thank god. The rest of the guys wouldn't shut up about playing at Bob's friend's party, though. It wasn't that Gerard didn't want to play gigs - what was the point of writing all those songs if other people didn't hear them? It was just that the thought of actually doing it made him want to throw up. Frank looked like he wanted to throw up too, but from pure glee.
Ray and Bob spent the whole time putting together their thirty minute set list and arguing over whether they should include their cover of "Jack the Ripper" or "Astro Zombies," while Mikey, Frank and even Gerard, with increasing enthusiasm, discussed costume possibilities. Gerard had some sketches he'd been working on for a while - sort of a guerilla warfare uniform type thing, all in black, white and red. He'd even come up with a design for armbands that they could each wear. The other guys didn't seem that into it, but Gerard bet he could talk them into it in time for the party. By the time the warning bell rang, Gerard felt a little better about the whole prospect. That still wasn't saying much, but at least the nauseating roiling in his stomach had stopped.
Brian wasn't in class when he finally made it to history. Gerard had a moment to fantasize about him moving back to wherever he came from when he strolled in, looking as smug and like just as big a dick as he did the day before. Gerard turned away and scribbled furiously in the margin of his notebook, until the sound of the chair beside his being pulled out made him jerk his head up. Brian grinned at him as he dropped his backpack on the ground and sat down, either not noticing or not caring about the way everyone was staring at them. Even Mrs. Verona looked surprised.
"Hey," he said.
"Why are you sitting here?" Gerard hissed, cutting his eyes back to where Christian watched them. Was this some kind of joke?
"Why not?" Brian asked, looking unconcerned.
"Because your friends don't look very happy," Gerard answered.
Brian swiveled his head around to look at the table in question before shrugging. "They'll get over it."
"No, they won't," Gerard responded.
"Well, I don't care what they think."
"You cared yesterday," Gerard said.
Brian raised his eyebrows. "Wow, you really hold a grudge, don't you?"
Gerard's hands fisted under the table. He didn't understand anything about how things worked here, and Mikey was going to be the one to suffer because of it. "Look, just stay away from Mikey," he whispered.
The bell rang to start class, and Brian had to wait for it to finish blaring and the morning announcements to begin before he whispered back, "What?"
"You can't be friends with them and us - Mikey - at the same time."
"Why not?" Brian asked.
"Because that's not how this place works!" Gerard said, ducking his head when Mrs. Verona gave him a sharp look. He leaned a bit closer and said quietly, so he wouldn't be overheard, "They've made our lives hell for the last three years. Okay? They're jackasses."
Brian looked at him a moment and then said, "I like to make my own judgments about people."
Gerard bristled. High school was war, and as far as Gerard was concerned, Brian had picked the wrong side.
"Fine, well, judge all you want, but stay away from Mikey while you do it."
"No offense, Gerard, but you don't get a say in who I'm friends with."
The announcements ended then, and Mrs. Verona gave them instructions on which page to open to in their books. Gerard opened his and slid his chair as far away from Brian as he could get while still sitting at the same table.
*
"You know Brian hangs out with the lacrosse team, right? Still think I'm being stupid?" Gerard asked when they got home from school. Mikey knew better than anyone what Christian had put him through, especially freshman and sophomore year when it was just Gerard and Ray against the world. The black eyes and busted lips had been worn like accessories early on. It wasn't until junior year, when Mikey and Frank got into high school and Bob transferred in from Hudson, that things started easing up a bit - partly because Frank gave them a new target and partly because Bob was one scary motherfucker when he wanted to be.
Mikey sighed. "I know. He doesn't get it yet."
"I tried to tell him, and he didn't listen, so that's no fucking excuse," Gerard said.
"Gee, he thinks you hate him. Why would he listen?"
"I do hate him," Gerard said. "And how come you or Frank haven't said something, if that's the problem?"
Mikey shrugged in that indifferent way he had that got on Gerard's last fucking nerve. "He'll figure it out eventually. Whatever." He took a drink from his Red Bull before pushing away from the kitchen table. "I'm going to my room."
"Don't you get how big a deal this is?" Gerard demanded.
Mikey turned around and eyed him with annoying calm. "I get how big a deal you think it is."
Just then, their mom came into the room, removing her sweater and tossing it over the back of one of the empty chairs. "What's a big deal?"
"Brian," Mikey said, at the same time Gerard said, "Nothing."
"Who's Brian?" she asked, giving Gerard a speculative look that made his face heat up.
"God, Mom, no!" he cried. "He's this asshole that Mikey's decided is his new best friend."
"Hmm," his mom said, then she reached out and flicked Mikey's earlobe with one of her long, red fingernails. "Be careful, will you?"
Mikey rubbed his ear and scowled. "I am. Gerard's just freaking out like he always does."
Gerard turned and put his hands on his hips. "I'm not freaking out!" Unfortunately, that left his right ear unguarded. "Ow!" he cried, clutching it in pain from his mother's surprise flick.
"Stop freaking out," she admonished.
"I'm not!" he said.
*
"Mikey says I'm freaking out," Gerard told Ray later, on the phone. "Like he has no idea why I'm worried."
"Yeah," Ray said. "I mean, it's Christian Hobbes."
"Exactly!" Gerard exclaimed, happy that someone finally understood. "You remember what it used to be like."
"Not like I could forget," Ray said. There was an indrawn breath, as if he was going to say something else. Gerard waited, but Ray stayed silent.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing, just...I have English with Brian."
Gerard frowned. He hadn't known that, and he really didn't like the cautious tone of Ray's voice. "Ray..." he said.
"He doesn't seem that bad to me," Ray answered in a rush. "Maybe...maybe it's like Mikey said, you know? He's only been here two days, he must not realize about Christian yet. I think we should wait a little longer before we judge him for that."
"Now you sound like him," Gerard said derisively. "I have to go."
"Look, come on, don't hang up," Ray said. "Let's talk about something else instead."
"I'm tired," Gerard said, even though it was only eight-thirty. "I'm going to sleep. See you tomorrow."
Gerard hung up and stared at the phone in his hands. His friends had all gone crazy, and it was all Brian Schechter's fucking fault.
*
The band practiced at Frank's house that Saturday. Bob always picked up Mikey and Gerard and drove them to Frank's. Gerard couldn't wait until he finally saved enough money to get his own car. His parents were no help, since all of their money went to sending Gerard and Mikey to a school that they both hated. Mikey threw his bass into the backseat with him and started making demands about what music to play in the car.
Frank lived about twenty minutes away from Gerard's house without traffic. They made it through Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness up to "An Ode to No One" before pulling into his driveway. The garage door was already open and Ray and Frank were setting up the equipment when they arrived. Gerard made a beeline for the cooler in the corner that was stocked with beer they could drink until Frank's mom got home from the business classes she took at the community college every Saturday afternoon.
He managed to down half a can of Coors Light in the time it took them to finish plugging in all the amps and instruments. They were loud, but Frank's neighbors were cool as fuck and never complained about them practicing as long as they finished by the time the streetlights went on.
"What song do you want to start with?" Bob asked.
"One of the new ones," Ray answered in the middle of tuning his guitar.
"'Sorrows'?" Frank asked, ignoring Bob's groan.
"What about 'Vampires' instead?" Gerard suggested as he finished his first beer and moved onto his second. Frank's neighbor, James, who was their age and went to Lakeview, the local high school in Frank's neighborhood, liked that one. In Gerard's mind, that was their first single.
Mikey was already plucking away at his bass, but he pushed his glasses up his nose and said, "Sure, whatever. Let's just play something."
They all got into position and Bob start them off. Gerard was in the middle of belting out, "Will it wash away this jet black feeling?" when Brian appeared at the end of the driveway. Gerard stopped singing abruptly, and the others petered off after him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. He was distressed to see that Brian apparently had a lip ring, along with a couple of earrings in each ear. It was a good look on him. Gerard scowled down at his shoes, feeling even more annoyed.
"Hey," Mikey said, and raised his hand in greeting.
"I told him he could stop by," Frank said and gave Gerard a guilty look when he swung his head around to glare at him.
"You guys sounded good from down the block," he said. "What's that song called?"
"'Vampires Will...'" Frank began, then cut himself off. "Oh, dude, you got ink?"
Gerard peaked up from the veil of his hair and noticed that when he was wearing a t-shirt instead of the school dress shirt and blazer, Gerard could see several tattoos decorating each of his arms. He knew at that moment that he'd lost Frank too. He'd shown Gerard the notebook full of tattoos ideas on the first day that Gerard met him.
"Oh, yeah, a few. I turned eighteen at the end of August. I got this one up here on my birthday, and then these two a month after. This one here I got right before I moved here, so it's real new." He lifted his sleeve up to reveal another colorful image on his shoulder.
Frank dropped his guitar and moved to get a closer look. "Gerard, check this out! It's like a dragon or something - it's fucking sick!"
Gerard was kind of curious, but hid it by marching over to the cooler and pulling out another beer instead.
"Gerard's all into art and, like, fantasy and horror stuff. He sketched out this one saint or something, with, like, swords in her heart? I think it's gonna go on my arm. He doesn't want any tattoos though, because he's afraid of needles."
"Frank!" Gerard said, feeling his face flush.
"I should show you my notebook!" Frank said, ignoring Gerard.
"Can we play something fucking music, please?" Gerard demanded. Bob crashed his stick against his cymbal in agreement.
"Later," Frank promised Brian, rushing back to pick up his guitar. "Have a seat. There's beer in the cooler. My mom comes home in about an hour and a half, but you're cool to drink until then."
"Awesome," Brian said, smiling at Frank in that smarmy way he had.
"Should we start 'Vampires' again?" Ray asked.
"I don't care," Gerard grumbled.
Bob kicked off the song, and even though Gerard tried staring straight ahead and concentrating on the words, it felt like Brian's eyes were boring holes into the side of his head. When he couldn't take it any more and had to make sure, he glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Sure enough, Brian was looking directly at him, a small half-smile on his face. Gerard quickly looked away and fumbled a few words before pulling himself back together and finishing the song.
Brian clapped politely when the last chords ended. He was sitting on top of the cooler and leaning with one arm propped against the wall. "That was fucking creepy."
"Gerard writes all our lyrics," Mikey answered.
Brian turned to look at him, and Gerard did his best to stare back impassively, in his best Mikeyway impression.
Brian asked, "It's a metaphor, right? The vampires are, like, all the people who try to bring you down?"
Gerard restrained himself from saying yeah, for instance, the assholes you're so quick to defend. Instead, he shrugged.
Frank was more than happy to answer to for him though. "Dude, that's totally it! It's a big fuck you, you know? Fuck you, you can't hurt me."
"I like it," Brian said, looking right at Gerard again.
"Whatever," Gerard said. "Let's keep going." As if he cared what Brian thought.
*
On Monday, Brian continued his trend of annoying Gerard by being sat at Gerard's table when he got to history. Gerard narrowed his eyes and considered sitting somewhere else, but it wasn't like sitting by any of the other kids would have been better. Besides, that seat had a good view out the window and a straight line to the door so that Gerard could make a fast exit if he had to. It was also the table closest to the fire escape, and since sooner or later Frank was bound to make something explode down the hall in the Chemistry lab while trying to impress Jamia, it made sense to sit there. The point was, that table was Gerard's way before it was Brian's, and he shouldn't have to be the one to move.
"Hey," Brian said when he made it across the room to his seat.
Gerard ignored him and unzipped his backpack, pulling out his supplies. Next to him, Brian was doing the same thing, in a far less organized fashion. He had his bag on his lap and was apparently rooting around for something hard to find. He started tossing things on the table: a handful of black pens, some notebooks, balled up paper, a few CDs. Gerard glanced at the CDs surreptiously. Surfer Rosa by The Pixies, Adore by the Smashing Pumpkins, The Queen is Dead by The Smiths and Absolution by Muse. The fact that Brian had good taste in music annoyed Gerard in that abstract, frustrating way that everything he did annoyed him. That was just one more thing to add to the list.
"Who uses CDs anymore?" he asked, because he had to say something, and I think you're stupid for liking good music didn't make any sense.
"What?" Brian asked, pausing in his rummaging to look at Gerard.
Gerard gestured at the junk piled on the table. "The CDs. Don't you have an iPod?"
"They're for my car," Brian explained. "Ah, here it is." He pulled out a piece of looseleaf paper and smoothed out some of the wrinkles. Gerard recognized it as the homework due that day.
"Can you put your shit away now?" Gerard asked.
Brian raised an eyebrow at him, looking amused. Gerard had to remind himself of the trouble he'd get into if he punched his stupid, smug, not-even-that-good looking face. "It's going away, boss." He slid everything in his bag and zipped it up. "Happy?"
"Yes," Gerard answered, and then because he couldn't hold it in, added, "Louder Than Bombs is the best Smiths album."
"Heaven knows I'm miserable now..." Brian sang under his breath, grinning. "I'm not sure, though. 'Never Had No One Ever.'"
Gerard nodded, allowing him that point, but added, "'Panic.' 'London.'"
Brian countered, "'There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.'"
Gerard was about to go into his speech about how overrated that song was, but Mrs. Verona's voice interrupted him. "Brian, Gerard, whenever you finish your conversation, I'll start my lesson."
"Sorry," Gerard muttered, slinking down in his chair and trying to ignore the eyes that all turned to look at him.
*
The bus was late picking them up. Usually on Thursdays it was ten minutes later than the rest of the week, but the clock on Gerard's cell phone was nearing four already. Gerard pulled his blazer closer around himself and tilted his head up to exhale the smoke from his cigarette. Mikey tapped out an absent rhythm on his knees from his place on the curb. It was the middle of October, right around the time when the temperature dropped and summer officially gave way to fall. If it weren't for school starting up, it would be Gerard's favorite time of year. He wasn't a summer person.
"It's just that he's constantly in my face, you know? I only have one class with him, but I feel like I see him every time I turn around. It's so fucking annoying," Gerard mused. He took another drag from his cigarette.
"Ray came up with a cool new riff after you and Bob went to get food yesterday. Remind him to show it to you on Saturday," Mikey said.
"Yeah, I will," Gerard replied, idly worrying the worn fringe at the bottom of his slacks.
"He helped me make the bassline on 'Sorrows' smoother too. I think I've got it down now."
"Good, I know you've been working on that," Gerard said. "Did you see his hair today?"
"Ray's?"
"No, Brian's."
"Ah."
"You saw it too, right?" Gerard asked. "The way it was curling in the back?" He ground out his cigarette and tossed the butt into the parking lot. "I didn't say anything about it, but then I guess he saw me looking, because he was like, 'What are you staring at?' And I was like, 'I'm not staring' because I wasn't, but then I said, 'Your hair. It's all fucking messed up in the back.'"
"Yeah, and...?" Mikey asked.
Gerard sighed and pulled out another cigarette. "I guess you had to be there, because he made this face all, like, pissed or whatever. God, I just don't want to have to think about him, you know?"
"I can tell," Mikey said.
Gerard lit his cigarette as he nodded. "Right? Maybe if I didn't have look at him every single moment of my life..."
"He asks about you," Mikey said, making Gerard freeze, cigarette halfway to his mouth.
"What?"
"Brian. When we're in gym or just hanging out or whatever, he asks like fifty thousand questions about you. What you do for fun, what kind of music you like, what your favorite movie is." He rolled his eyes. "You guys need to get it together."
"Well..." Gerard sputtered, completely blindsided by that news. "Be careful what you tell him. He's probably gathering information for whatever new way to torment me that Christian and the others have come up with."
"You know that's not true, Gee," Mikey said, sound exasperated.
"Well then, what else could he be doing it for?" Gerard asked nervously, glancing at Mikey and fighting the sudden butterflies that had taken up residence inside his stomach.
Mikey only snorted and shook his head in response. "If you haven't figured it out, I'm not telling you. Look, here comes the bus." He pulled his iPod out of his pocket and put the headphones on.
Gerard slowly pulled himself off the ground and grabbed his backpack, Mikey's words rolling around in his head.
part two
Pairing: Gerard/Brian
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~14,000 words
Summary: The campus of Amcrest College Preparatory Academy was expansive, but once you got past the tennis, basketball and volleyball courts, lacrosse, football, track and soccer fields, baseball diamonds, picnic tables, stream full of colorful fish that the administration dumped in for realism, the commemorative fountain, commemorative statue and commemorative garden, there was a shallow forest at the edge of the grounds. INOK-verse story, featuring Gerard the sullen outcast and Brian the new kid. Lots of cigarettes are smoked and angst is had. Crushes and garage bands, I don't even know.
Author's note: lordessrenegade asked for Brian fic, and I always wanted to try my hand at an INOK story. Somehow 14,000 words came out. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about the whole thing. Thanks to storydivagirl for the beta and dracopet for listening to me gnash my teeth.
If You Can Make It Through This
by iamtheenemy
The campus of Amcrest College Preparatory Academy was expansive, but once you got past the tennis, basketball and volleyball courts, lacrosse, football, track and soccer fields, baseball diamonds, picnic tables, stream full of colorful fish that the administration dumped in for realism, the commemorative fountain, commemorative statue and commemorative garden, there was a shallow forest at the edge of the grounds. Technically students weren't allowed back there, but no one had said anything to Gerard in the three years he'd been going there - probably because they were as happy to have him and his loser friends sequestered off as he was to avoid dealing with the dickwads who went to school with him. In the middle of the Amcrest Forest was this gnarly-looking tree, some serious Sleepy Hollow shit. It was, in Gerard's opinion, the only awesome thing about the whole place - except for maybe the art room.
He and Mikey navigated their way across the four stones that made a bridge across the stream. Gerard vengefully stepped on a few orange orchids as they hiked to meet their friends. As soon as they entered the forest, Gerard could hear AC/DC playing, which meant that Ray got to pick the music that morning. Sure enough, when they got close enough, Gerard saw Frank and Ray sitting side by side with their backs against the wide tree trunk. Frank was smoking a cigarette and Ray had the portable CD player on his lap. Bob loomed above them, adjusting his skull cap with one hand and smoking with the other.
"Hey, bus late?" Ray asked when he saw them.
"When isn't it?" Mikey asked, tossing his backpack on the ground and sprawling out next to it.
"Your coffee's probably cold," Bob said, nodding down at the two Starbucks cups left in the holder by Frank's feet.
"Shit, thanks, though," Gerard said. Mikey handed one cup up to Gerard and kept the other for himself.
Gerard took a sip - Bob was right, it was lukewarm - and dug around in the pocket of his gray uniform slacks for his pack of Marlboro Lights and his lighter. Getting a cigarette out of the pack and lit one-handed was tricky, but Gerard had a lot of practice. He took his first long, satisfying drag of the day and tilted his head up to exhale. "How much time do we have?" he asked.
Frank looked at his cell phone and flinched. "Fifteen minutes, shit! I have a quiz in Chemistry first period. Fuck it, I think I'm just gonna ditch."
"You can't ditch," Mikey said from his place on the ground. "You have to take it and tell me what's on it."
Bob scoffed. "Like Frankie's gonna miss Chemistry anyway. Not when it's his only class with Jamia."
At her name, Frank sighed and dragged his hands through his messy brown hair. "She has a Misfits sticker on her binder, did I tell you that? She's so awesome."
Gerard focused on finishing his cigarette quickly so he could get in another one before the warning bell rang. He already knew enough about Jamia to write a fucking book, thanks to Frank's techniques of yearbook stalking, Facebook stalking and just plain stalking.
"Did you hear that there's a new kid?" Ray asked. The abrupt change in subject meant that he also wanted to interrupt Frank before he began his daily Ode to Jamia.
Amcrest had four hundred twenty-one students, so the once or twice a year when a new one transferred in, everyone knew about it. As soon as Gerard and Mikey made it off the bus that morning, they heard the gossip about the newest student to grace their hallowed fucking halls.
"Either his dad's a rock star or his mom's a model," Mikey said.
"Maybe both," Gerard added.
"How come when I came last year, everyone said it was because my dad got thrown in jail?" Bob asked.
"Because you're a poor kid that transferred in from a public school," Ray answered. "This guy just moved here."
Frank pulled his crumpled chem notes out of his pocket. "I need to study."
"Guitar Hero?" Bob asked the rest of them, holding up his handheld game.
"Hell yeah," Gerard answered.
*
First period European History was easily Gerard's worst class of the day. It was full of lacrosse players and cheerleaders, and Mrs. Verona loved to assign partner projects, leaving Gerard stuck with whatever asshole wasn't quick enough to pair up with someone else.
Mostly he hid behind hair and tried to become invisible for that hour before he could escape to Algebra II with Ray. Mikey was an office aid first period, so every once and a while he engineered an excuse to get Gerard out of class, but not often because they didn't want to get caught.
Over the intercom, the morning announcements started. Gerard opened his notebook and idly doodled while Mrs. Verona wrote notes on the chalkboard for them to copy. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and saw the new kid standing awkwardly inside the doorway. He had short, dark hair and serious-looking blue eyes that swept around the room. Mrs. Verona waved him in as the whispering started up around Gerard. When the announcements ended, Mrs. Verona tossed the chalk back on the ledge and smiled.
"Looks like we have a new student. What's your name?"
"Brian. Schechter," the new kid said.
"Well, hello, Brian, we're glad to have you. Feel free to sit wherever you can find an empty seat."
There were at least five open seats around the room, but Brian's eyes landed on the chair next to Gerard. Gerard stared back at him, heart inexplicably racing as the guy weaved his way through the maze of tables and chairs to reach Gerard. He made it all the way to the end of the table when from across the room, Christian Hobbs, who'd been torturing Gerard since freshman year, called out, "Hey, you don't want to sit over there. That guy's a freak!"
Gerard felt his face heat up as everyone snickered. He slumped down in his chair and let his hair cover his eyes, even as Mrs. Verona admonished the class for laughing. "Sit wherever you want, Brian."
There was a moment of silence, and then Gerard watched through his hair as the new guy turned away from him and sat in an empty chair a row over and two behind him. Gerard scowled and sunk down deeper behind the table. Asshole. Somehow, history class just managed to get worse.
*
Gerard spent all of Algebra complaining to Ray, all of third period Biology fuming about it silently and all of fourth period Advanced Art trying to work out his anger on his sketch pad. He refrained from actually drawing the new kid getting decapitated or eaten by zombies the way he really wanted to, because he got in serious trouble the last time he got caught doing that. By lunch, he had a rant all planned out in his head, and he marched purposefully across campus practicing it in his head.
All five of them had first period lunch. Frank didn't originally, but after some quick fiddling, and with Mikey's help in the office, they were able to get him in. After the third time that Frank got hit in the head with a football in one week, they gave up trying to eat in the designated area and instead met by their tree every day. It wasn't hiding; it was getting to eat their lunch in peace.
He opened his mouth to start in on his rant, then he got a good look at who was sitting at their usual spot and closed it with an audible clack. That asshole, the new kid, was there, sitting on Gerard's spot next to Mikey.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Gerard demanded, pulling everyone's attention to him. Ray was the only one who looked awkward, hopefully from the festering guilt of not telling the guy off when he should have.
"Oh, hey, Gerard, it's cool," Mikey said, pushing his glasses up his nose. He mistook Gerard's disgust for anger over a stranger eating with them. "Brian's that new guy everyone's been talking about. He's in my gym class. I actually had someone to play racquetball with today." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his inhaler, needing a puff just from the memory of it, apparently.
"Gerard and Brian have already met," Ray said.
"No we haven't," Gerard argued, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring sullenly at them.
"Oh yeah, right," the new kid said, like he just placed Gerard. "We have first hour together. You're Mikey's brother?"
Gerard snorted and refused to respond. Instead, he sat down on the ground and dumped his lunch onto the grass.
"What's your problem?" Mikey asked, rolling his eyes like Gerard was being the unreasonable one.
"He's a jerk," Gerard said. He took a huge bite from his salami sandwich to avoiding going into his whole prepared rant about spoiled, uncaring rich kids who get off on humiliating other people.
Brian looked down at his hands and grimaced. "I'm sorry about what happened at the beginning of the period. It was my first class on my first day at a new school. I didn't want to sit by..."
"A freak," Gerard finished for him. "I guess it's okay when we're hiding in a forest though, huh?"
Frank made a distressed sound and deliberately got up from where he was sitting next on Brian's other side to sit across from Gerard. After years spent getting shoved into lockers and made fun of for being the loud, short spaz with the weird hair, he was sensitive when it happened, even to over people. Gerard looked up at Mikey, hoping for a little younger brother solidarity, but all he got was Mikey rolling his eyes again and using his hand to comb his hair into an even more dramatic point over the bridge of his nose. Bob stood by as impassive as ever, and Ray had that watching-a-train-wreck-look that he sometimes got when someone called a girl a whore in front of Gerard or offered Frankie something with meat.
Brian raised his hands defensively and picked up his backpack and Coke. "Whoa, that's not what I meant at all. For all I knew, you were a serious, bodies in the basement kind of freak. But maybe I should go."
"Yes," Gerard said, at the same time Mikey said, "No." Gerard glared at him.
"Don't go," Mikey said. "He gets like this sometimes, it's fine. He doesn't like new people."
"I don't like assholes," Gerard clarified.
"Then how do you live with yourself?" Mikey asked sarcastically. Before Gerard could think of a response to properly convey his outrage, Mikey turned to Bob and said, "What was your big news?"
Gerard sucked down some of his Coke Zero and grinned thankfully when Frank tipped some rum into it from his ever-present flask. Frank was his only real friend. Gerard didn't know why he put up with the rest of them; even Mikey could go fuck himself.
He was pulled out of his reverie by the loud, "Holy shit!" that Ray let out.
"What?" he asked, looking around. "What is it?"
Bob kicked his thigh with one of his thick, black boots. "I said that my friend, Patrick, from Hudson, is having a Halloween party, and he wants us to play."
Gerard felt his stomach drop to somewhere around his knees. "Seriously? Like a real gig?"
Bob nodded, grinning slightly. "I mean, they wouldn't pay us or anything, but I figured..."
He was cut off by Frank's whoop of joy as he jumped off the ground and launched himself onto Bob's back. "Our first real gig! Bob, this is the best birthday gift ever! Come here, turn your head, I want to make out with you right now." Bob bucked Frank off his back and sent him stumbling into Mikey, but Frank didn't lose his grin. "I should invite Jamia."
Gerard saw Bob and Ray exchanged an amused look over Frank's head and knew what they were thinking. Frank would never get the nerve to say anything to her, and if he did, it would be buried so far beneath his nervous babbling that she wouldn't notice it anyway.
"Is that your girlfriend?" Brian asked, causing Bob, Mikey and Ray to laugh.
Frank was too lost in his excitement to remember that he was supposed to hate Brian with Gerard. Instead of staring at him in silent disdain, the way Gerard was, he answered, "No. She's a junior." That was said reverently, as if, with the exception of Mikey, who was also a sophomore, he wasn't hanging out with a group of seniors. "She listens to good music and she's really nice - not like all the other douches in this school."
"I don't think we're ready to play in front of people," Gerard said, partly to stop Frank before he got on a roll, but mostly because he was half-way to a panic attack.
"We've been practicing for almost five months," Ray argued. "And we've got all those new songs."
"That we've barely worked on!" Gerard argued.
"There's still almost a month until Halloween, Gee," Mikey said. Gerard ignored him, because he was a dick.
"You guys are in a band?" Brian asked. Gerard had almost forgotten the new kid was there in his brief moment of total, abject terror.
"Yeah, didn't I tell you?" Mikey asked. "Gerard sings, Ray and Frankie play guitar, I play bass and Bob's the drummer."
"Do you have a name?"
"My Chemical Romance," Ray answered.
Brian looked impressed, as he should have been. It was a fucking great name.
"I came up with it," Mikey said.
"You haven't played in front of anyone yet?" Brian asked.
Frank answered cheerfully, "We practice in my garage. My mom lets us because her and my dad got divorced and my mom feels all guilty about my pain or whatever." He said it jokingly, and the rest of them were nice enough not to mention how messed up he was about it last year when they first met him.
"Wow," Brian said.
"Yeah, my dad got me a car and a new guitar. I think he feels even worse than my mom, because he's the one who moved out."
"He got you a car?" Brian asked. "Sweet, what kind?"
"2003 Toyota Camry, cherry red. She's so beautiful, and this Halloween is my sixteenth birthday, so I'll finally be able to get my license and drive her. My mom's taking off work and letting me ditch school to go to the DMV. Hey, I'll totally be able to drive us to the party!"
"We wouldn't all fit into your little clown car," Bob said. "And where would we put our stuff?"
Frank grumbled for a moment and then lit up again, "I could swing by and pick up Ray, and you could pick up Gerard and Mikey in your stupid SUV."
"We have a long time before we have to figure it out," Ray hedged.
"Still, though," Frank said, beaming. "Our first gig and Halloween and my birthday all on the same day? Best day ever."
"You have to tell me where it is so I can see you guys play," Brian said.
Gerard stood up and grabbed what was left of his lunch. "I'm not hungry anymore," he said.
Frank looked at him guiltily, seeming to remember that he was supposed to be on Gerard's side. "I'll come with you."
*
The rest of the afternoon went by as slowly and painfully as ever. He had gym right after lunch with Bob, who gave him a look but didn't comment when he started talking about Brian.
"He was just like, 'Oh, never mind, I don't want to sit next to that freak,'" Gerard grumbled, throwing the basketball halfheartedly at the hoop.
"Did he actually say that?" Bob asked as he tossed the ball back.
Gerard dribbled once and shrugged. "No, but I could tell that's what he was thinking."
"Okay," Bob said. Gerard chose to take that as agreement.
*
After school, Gerard always had a good twenty minutes before the bus came to pick up him and Mikey. That day as he gathered his books and grabbed his hoodie, he saw the new kid walking down the hallway. As he watched, Christian and his bonehead lacrosse friends greeted the new kid with a fist bump and a tight arm around the shoulders: the universal symbol of dumbass jock friendship. Gerard snorted and ducked his head as he past them, giving himself a wide berth. The new kid tried to make eye contact with him, but he kept his eyes firmly on his boots.
Outside, Mikey was waiting at the end of the parking lot where the buses picked up. He had his headphones on and his blazer tucked under one arm. Gerard marched over to him and gave him a sturdy push, catching him off guard. He tore off his headphones and whirled around, glaring when he saw who it was.
"Thanks for all your help today," Gerard said.
Mikey shrugged, unrepentent. "You were being stupid."
"Why do you like this guy so much?" Gerard demanded.
"Why do you hate him so much?" Mikey countered, but before Gerard could start in on the detailed list he'd come up with in Biology, Mikey went on, "He was nice to me in gym. I haven't had anyone to pair up with in class all year. You aren't taking away my gym friend."
Gerard understood the value of having a gym friend - he almost fell over in pure relief and thankfulness when they compared schedules and he saw that he shared his class with Bob. Still, it wasn't worth putting up with a lacrosse player, even by proxy, for the convenience of a built-in racquetball partner.
"Besides, you were the same way about Bob when he first came."
Gerard rolled his eyes. Bob was fucking awesome, and he proved it his second week at Amcrest when he shoved Terrence Von Hauser into Frank's locker and got suspended. It had been pretty fucking awesome too. Terrence wasn't tiny like Frank, so it wasn't exactly an easy fit. Gerard doubted Brian would prove himself like Bob had.
The bus turned into the lot and Mikey put his headphones back on. The music was loud enough that Gerard could make out Frank Black singing "Velouria." Gerard pulled out his own iPod, blared some Morrissey and ignored Mikey all the way home.
*
The next day at school, Brian wasn't at their tree in the morning, thank god. The rest of the guys wouldn't shut up about playing at Bob's friend's party, though. It wasn't that Gerard didn't want to play gigs - what was the point of writing all those songs if other people didn't hear them? It was just that the thought of actually doing it made him want to throw up. Frank looked like he wanted to throw up too, but from pure glee.
Ray and Bob spent the whole time putting together their thirty minute set list and arguing over whether they should include their cover of "Jack the Ripper" or "Astro Zombies," while Mikey, Frank and even Gerard, with increasing enthusiasm, discussed costume possibilities. Gerard had some sketches he'd been working on for a while - sort of a guerilla warfare uniform type thing, all in black, white and red. He'd even come up with a design for armbands that they could each wear. The other guys didn't seem that into it, but Gerard bet he could talk them into it in time for the party. By the time the warning bell rang, Gerard felt a little better about the whole prospect. That still wasn't saying much, but at least the nauseating roiling in his stomach had stopped.
Brian wasn't in class when he finally made it to history. Gerard had a moment to fantasize about him moving back to wherever he came from when he strolled in, looking as smug and like just as big a dick as he did the day before. Gerard turned away and scribbled furiously in the margin of his notebook, until the sound of the chair beside his being pulled out made him jerk his head up. Brian grinned at him as he dropped his backpack on the ground and sat down, either not noticing or not caring about the way everyone was staring at them. Even Mrs. Verona looked surprised.
"Hey," he said.
"Why are you sitting here?" Gerard hissed, cutting his eyes back to where Christian watched them. Was this some kind of joke?
"Why not?" Brian asked, looking unconcerned.
"Because your friends don't look very happy," Gerard answered.
Brian swiveled his head around to look at the table in question before shrugging. "They'll get over it."
"No, they won't," Gerard responded.
"Well, I don't care what they think."
"You cared yesterday," Gerard said.
Brian raised his eyebrows. "Wow, you really hold a grudge, don't you?"
Gerard's hands fisted under the table. He didn't understand anything about how things worked here, and Mikey was going to be the one to suffer because of it. "Look, just stay away from Mikey," he whispered.
The bell rang to start class, and Brian had to wait for it to finish blaring and the morning announcements to begin before he whispered back, "What?"
"You can't be friends with them and us - Mikey - at the same time."
"Why not?" Brian asked.
"Because that's not how this place works!" Gerard said, ducking his head when Mrs. Verona gave him a sharp look. He leaned a bit closer and said quietly, so he wouldn't be overheard, "They've made our lives hell for the last three years. Okay? They're jackasses."
Brian looked at him a moment and then said, "I like to make my own judgments about people."
Gerard bristled. High school was war, and as far as Gerard was concerned, Brian had picked the wrong side.
"Fine, well, judge all you want, but stay away from Mikey while you do it."
"No offense, Gerard, but you don't get a say in who I'm friends with."
The announcements ended then, and Mrs. Verona gave them instructions on which page to open to in their books. Gerard opened his and slid his chair as far away from Brian as he could get while still sitting at the same table.
*
"You know Brian hangs out with the lacrosse team, right? Still think I'm being stupid?" Gerard asked when they got home from school. Mikey knew better than anyone what Christian had put him through, especially freshman and sophomore year when it was just Gerard and Ray against the world. The black eyes and busted lips had been worn like accessories early on. It wasn't until junior year, when Mikey and Frank got into high school and Bob transferred in from Hudson, that things started easing up a bit - partly because Frank gave them a new target and partly because Bob was one scary motherfucker when he wanted to be.
Mikey sighed. "I know. He doesn't get it yet."
"I tried to tell him, and he didn't listen, so that's no fucking excuse," Gerard said.
"Gee, he thinks you hate him. Why would he listen?"
"I do hate him," Gerard said. "And how come you or Frank haven't said something, if that's the problem?"
Mikey shrugged in that indifferent way he had that got on Gerard's last fucking nerve. "He'll figure it out eventually. Whatever." He took a drink from his Red Bull before pushing away from the kitchen table. "I'm going to my room."
"Don't you get how big a deal this is?" Gerard demanded.
Mikey turned around and eyed him with annoying calm. "I get how big a deal you think it is."
Just then, their mom came into the room, removing her sweater and tossing it over the back of one of the empty chairs. "What's a big deal?"
"Brian," Mikey said, at the same time Gerard said, "Nothing."
"Who's Brian?" she asked, giving Gerard a speculative look that made his face heat up.
"God, Mom, no!" he cried. "He's this asshole that Mikey's decided is his new best friend."
"Hmm," his mom said, then she reached out and flicked Mikey's earlobe with one of her long, red fingernails. "Be careful, will you?"
Mikey rubbed his ear and scowled. "I am. Gerard's just freaking out like he always does."
Gerard turned and put his hands on his hips. "I'm not freaking out!" Unfortunately, that left his right ear unguarded. "Ow!" he cried, clutching it in pain from his mother's surprise flick.
"Stop freaking out," she admonished.
"I'm not!" he said.
*
"Mikey says I'm freaking out," Gerard told Ray later, on the phone. "Like he has no idea why I'm worried."
"Yeah," Ray said. "I mean, it's Christian Hobbes."
"Exactly!" Gerard exclaimed, happy that someone finally understood. "You remember what it used to be like."
"Not like I could forget," Ray said. There was an indrawn breath, as if he was going to say something else. Gerard waited, but Ray stayed silent.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing, just...I have English with Brian."
Gerard frowned. He hadn't known that, and he really didn't like the cautious tone of Ray's voice. "Ray..." he said.
"He doesn't seem that bad to me," Ray answered in a rush. "Maybe...maybe it's like Mikey said, you know? He's only been here two days, he must not realize about Christian yet. I think we should wait a little longer before we judge him for that."
"Now you sound like him," Gerard said derisively. "I have to go."
"Look, come on, don't hang up," Ray said. "Let's talk about something else instead."
"I'm tired," Gerard said, even though it was only eight-thirty. "I'm going to sleep. See you tomorrow."
Gerard hung up and stared at the phone in his hands. His friends had all gone crazy, and it was all Brian Schechter's fucking fault.
*
The band practiced at Frank's house that Saturday. Bob always picked up Mikey and Gerard and drove them to Frank's. Gerard couldn't wait until he finally saved enough money to get his own car. His parents were no help, since all of their money went to sending Gerard and Mikey to a school that they both hated. Mikey threw his bass into the backseat with him and started making demands about what music to play in the car.
Frank lived about twenty minutes away from Gerard's house without traffic. They made it through Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness up to "An Ode to No One" before pulling into his driveway. The garage door was already open and Ray and Frank were setting up the equipment when they arrived. Gerard made a beeline for the cooler in the corner that was stocked with beer they could drink until Frank's mom got home from the business classes she took at the community college every Saturday afternoon.
He managed to down half a can of Coors Light in the time it took them to finish plugging in all the amps and instruments. They were loud, but Frank's neighbors were cool as fuck and never complained about them practicing as long as they finished by the time the streetlights went on.
"What song do you want to start with?" Bob asked.
"One of the new ones," Ray answered in the middle of tuning his guitar.
"'Sorrows'?" Frank asked, ignoring Bob's groan.
"What about 'Vampires' instead?" Gerard suggested as he finished his first beer and moved onto his second. Frank's neighbor, James, who was their age and went to Lakeview, the local high school in Frank's neighborhood, liked that one. In Gerard's mind, that was their first single.
Mikey was already plucking away at his bass, but he pushed his glasses up his nose and said, "Sure, whatever. Let's just play something."
They all got into position and Bob start them off. Gerard was in the middle of belting out, "Will it wash away this jet black feeling?" when Brian appeared at the end of the driveway. Gerard stopped singing abruptly, and the others petered off after him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. He was distressed to see that Brian apparently had a lip ring, along with a couple of earrings in each ear. It was a good look on him. Gerard scowled down at his shoes, feeling even more annoyed.
"Hey," Mikey said, and raised his hand in greeting.
"I told him he could stop by," Frank said and gave Gerard a guilty look when he swung his head around to glare at him.
"You guys sounded good from down the block," he said. "What's that song called?"
"'Vampires Will...'" Frank began, then cut himself off. "Oh, dude, you got ink?"
Gerard peaked up from the veil of his hair and noticed that when he was wearing a t-shirt instead of the school dress shirt and blazer, Gerard could see several tattoos decorating each of his arms. He knew at that moment that he'd lost Frank too. He'd shown Gerard the notebook full of tattoos ideas on the first day that Gerard met him.
"Oh, yeah, a few. I turned eighteen at the end of August. I got this one up here on my birthday, and then these two a month after. This one here I got right before I moved here, so it's real new." He lifted his sleeve up to reveal another colorful image on his shoulder.
Frank dropped his guitar and moved to get a closer look. "Gerard, check this out! It's like a dragon or something - it's fucking sick!"
Gerard was kind of curious, but hid it by marching over to the cooler and pulling out another beer instead.
"Gerard's all into art and, like, fantasy and horror stuff. He sketched out this one saint or something, with, like, swords in her heart? I think it's gonna go on my arm. He doesn't want any tattoos though, because he's afraid of needles."
"Frank!" Gerard said, feeling his face flush.
"I should show you my notebook!" Frank said, ignoring Gerard.
"Can we play something fucking music, please?" Gerard demanded. Bob crashed his stick against his cymbal in agreement.
"Later," Frank promised Brian, rushing back to pick up his guitar. "Have a seat. There's beer in the cooler. My mom comes home in about an hour and a half, but you're cool to drink until then."
"Awesome," Brian said, smiling at Frank in that smarmy way he had.
"Should we start 'Vampires' again?" Ray asked.
"I don't care," Gerard grumbled.
Bob kicked off the song, and even though Gerard tried staring straight ahead and concentrating on the words, it felt like Brian's eyes were boring holes into the side of his head. When he couldn't take it any more and had to make sure, he glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Sure enough, Brian was looking directly at him, a small half-smile on his face. Gerard quickly looked away and fumbled a few words before pulling himself back together and finishing the song.
Brian clapped politely when the last chords ended. He was sitting on top of the cooler and leaning with one arm propped against the wall. "That was fucking creepy."
"Gerard writes all our lyrics," Mikey answered.
Brian turned to look at him, and Gerard did his best to stare back impassively, in his best Mikeyway impression.
Brian asked, "It's a metaphor, right? The vampires are, like, all the people who try to bring you down?"
Gerard restrained himself from saying yeah, for instance, the assholes you're so quick to defend. Instead, he shrugged.
Frank was more than happy to answer to for him though. "Dude, that's totally it! It's a big fuck you, you know? Fuck you, you can't hurt me."
"I like it," Brian said, looking right at Gerard again.
"Whatever," Gerard said. "Let's keep going." As if he cared what Brian thought.
*
On Monday, Brian continued his trend of annoying Gerard by being sat at Gerard's table when he got to history. Gerard narrowed his eyes and considered sitting somewhere else, but it wasn't like sitting by any of the other kids would have been better. Besides, that seat had a good view out the window and a straight line to the door so that Gerard could make a fast exit if he had to. It was also the table closest to the fire escape, and since sooner or later Frank was bound to make something explode down the hall in the Chemistry lab while trying to impress Jamia, it made sense to sit there. The point was, that table was Gerard's way before it was Brian's, and he shouldn't have to be the one to move.
"Hey," Brian said when he made it across the room to his seat.
Gerard ignored him and unzipped his backpack, pulling out his supplies. Next to him, Brian was doing the same thing, in a far less organized fashion. He had his bag on his lap and was apparently rooting around for something hard to find. He started tossing things on the table: a handful of black pens, some notebooks, balled up paper, a few CDs. Gerard glanced at the CDs surreptiously. Surfer Rosa by The Pixies, Adore by the Smashing Pumpkins, The Queen is Dead by The Smiths and Absolution by Muse. The fact that Brian had good taste in music annoyed Gerard in that abstract, frustrating way that everything he did annoyed him. That was just one more thing to add to the list.
"Who uses CDs anymore?" he asked, because he had to say something, and I think you're stupid for liking good music didn't make any sense.
"What?" Brian asked, pausing in his rummaging to look at Gerard.
Gerard gestured at the junk piled on the table. "The CDs. Don't you have an iPod?"
"They're for my car," Brian explained. "Ah, here it is." He pulled out a piece of looseleaf paper and smoothed out some of the wrinkles. Gerard recognized it as the homework due that day.
"Can you put your shit away now?" Gerard asked.
Brian raised an eyebrow at him, looking amused. Gerard had to remind himself of the trouble he'd get into if he punched his stupid, smug, not-even-that-good looking face. "It's going away, boss." He slid everything in his bag and zipped it up. "Happy?"
"Yes," Gerard answered, and then because he couldn't hold it in, added, "Louder Than Bombs is the best Smiths album."
"Heaven knows I'm miserable now..." Brian sang under his breath, grinning. "I'm not sure, though. 'Never Had No One Ever.'"
Gerard nodded, allowing him that point, but added, "'Panic.' 'London.'"
Brian countered, "'There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.'"
Gerard was about to go into his speech about how overrated that song was, but Mrs. Verona's voice interrupted him. "Brian, Gerard, whenever you finish your conversation, I'll start my lesson."
"Sorry," Gerard muttered, slinking down in his chair and trying to ignore the eyes that all turned to look at him.
*
The bus was late picking them up. Usually on Thursdays it was ten minutes later than the rest of the week, but the clock on Gerard's cell phone was nearing four already. Gerard pulled his blazer closer around himself and tilted his head up to exhale the smoke from his cigarette. Mikey tapped out an absent rhythm on his knees from his place on the curb. It was the middle of October, right around the time when the temperature dropped and summer officially gave way to fall. If it weren't for school starting up, it would be Gerard's favorite time of year. He wasn't a summer person.
"It's just that he's constantly in my face, you know? I only have one class with him, but I feel like I see him every time I turn around. It's so fucking annoying," Gerard mused. He took another drag from his cigarette.
"Ray came up with a cool new riff after you and Bob went to get food yesterday. Remind him to show it to you on Saturday," Mikey said.
"Yeah, I will," Gerard replied, idly worrying the worn fringe at the bottom of his slacks.
"He helped me make the bassline on 'Sorrows' smoother too. I think I've got it down now."
"Good, I know you've been working on that," Gerard said. "Did you see his hair today?"
"Ray's?"
"No, Brian's."
"Ah."
"You saw it too, right?" Gerard asked. "The way it was curling in the back?" He ground out his cigarette and tossed the butt into the parking lot. "I didn't say anything about it, but then I guess he saw me looking, because he was like, 'What are you staring at?' And I was like, 'I'm not staring' because I wasn't, but then I said, 'Your hair. It's all fucking messed up in the back.'"
"Yeah, and...?" Mikey asked.
Gerard sighed and pulled out another cigarette. "I guess you had to be there, because he made this face all, like, pissed or whatever. God, I just don't want to have to think about him, you know?"
"I can tell," Mikey said.
Gerard lit his cigarette as he nodded. "Right? Maybe if I didn't have look at him every single moment of my life..."
"He asks about you," Mikey said, making Gerard freeze, cigarette halfway to his mouth.
"What?"
"Brian. When we're in gym or just hanging out or whatever, he asks like fifty thousand questions about you. What you do for fun, what kind of music you like, what your favorite movie is." He rolled his eyes. "You guys need to get it together."
"Well..." Gerard sputtered, completely blindsided by that news. "Be careful what you tell him. He's probably gathering information for whatever new way to torment me that Christian and the others have come up with."
"You know that's not true, Gee," Mikey said, sound exasperated.
"Well then, what else could he be doing it for?" Gerard asked nervously, glancing at Mikey and fighting the sudden butterflies that had taken up residence inside his stomach.
Mikey only snorted and shook his head in response. "If you haven't figured it out, I'm not telling you. Look, here comes the bus." He pulled his iPod out of his pocket and put the headphones on.
Gerard slowly pulled himself off the ground and grabbed his backpack, Mikey's words rolling around in his head.
part two