Slaughtering unicorns
Title: Slaughtering unicorns
Author: alles_luege
Pairing: none
Rating: PG-13
Summary: If there was a supernatural thing in the area, it would find Gerard. Obviously.
Warning(s): character death, mention of Mikey/Pete
Author’s Notes: Thanks to my betas this turned out to be so much funnier. Also guest appearance by FOB, because Patrick Stump needs to be in every fic. *laughs*
Word Count: 2.393
Beta: tygermine ,neverglass and crayolarainbows (Honestly, the best thing that can happen to an author are awesome betas! Thank you so much.)
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real.
~*~
The first clear memory Mikey has of Gerard, is a Halloween one. He doesn’t know why; maybe it’s because brains just work like that - people remember the most random stuff from their earliest childhood.
Whatever the reason, what he remembers is a pale boy with dark hair and big, pointy teeth, almost fangs, but not quite. Gerard was, of course, a vampire, out in the dark to hunt for candy. Mikey was four. He doesn't remember his own costume, but he remembers Gerard's pale, pale face.
~*~
“Halloween is just the best holiday,” he says and sees Mikey nod. Okay, so he says it every year, but it's true. Halloween is the best holiday, even when you're a grown-up. You can still buy candy, and put on some make-up, and a scary costume, plus there is alcohol and cigarettes. So, maybe just the candy and cigarettes for him, but still.
“You do know your life is like Halloween, right?” Mikey asks after a while; he doesn’t put the magazine he’s (not) reading down though.
“It’s not the same.” Gerard says offended.
“Yes, I can see why not: The costumes? The drama? The smoking and music and candy, after show parties are nothing like Halloween…”
“There aren’t any pumpkins!” Gerard says, and Mikey rolls his eyes. Really, sometimes his brother is just too weird.
“I see. Wait! Do you want some pumpkins for the next show?!” he wants to know, putting the magazine down at least to look at Gerard.
“Uh, no,” he says, but it’s more like a question.
“’No?’ or ‘No.’” Mikey asks.
“No.”
“Okay,” he says. There isn’t anything else to say, but he sighs with relief because…pumpkins! Too weird even for them.
The party is loud, there are people everywhere, and the Halloween decorations, in a word, are crappy. The music makes up for the poor décor by being great, but what do you expect from a bunch of boys playing guitars and screaming their lungs out? Yes, old school rock and weird East -European hardcore bands.
It isn’t that surprising that he loses sight of Gerard at some point while he talks to Joe and Patrick. (There is always the Pete-issue with Gerard, even if Pete isn’t actually anywhere in sight.) He isn’t worried exactly but…yeah. Gerard and Halloween have always been close, and Halloween and trouble are lovers. So…he isn’t worried as much as just fidgety. Yeah…that. He knows that Gerard wouldn’t do something stupid - not now that he is sober. Mikey knows that. It doesn’t stop him from searching the crowd for Gerard’s familiar head every minute or so, though.
At two in the morning he sits outside the house on the porch alone where five seconds before there was Pete rambling about life, love, death and everything in between. Mikey often thinks that Pete is a little bit like Gerard - a Gerard without all the slightly creepy weirdness, which isn't Gerard at all, so maybe not.
The night is moonless, and he can’t help but think that there should be a moon, all creepy with heavy dark clouds and a bloody frame maybe, something red and… well, something Gerard would paint, maybe he already did. Really it would be just so cliché and dorky and just a little cool, which, well, explains pretty much everything about Gerard.
Doesn’t it? Mikey is sure his brother would like it.
His brother; whom he can’t find inside the fucking house. And that’s why he’s here, because maybe Gerard is outside, gone for a smoke or buying cigarettes or being eaten by a werewolf, battling zombies or something grotesque like that. Because if there is a supernatural thing in the area, it would find Gerard. Obviously. He shakes his head in frustration, and then, finally, sees him out of the corner of his eyes.
“Where the hell have you been?” he demands, because he wasn't just fidgety; he was worried.
“Being bitten by a vampire…”
“That isn’t funny - I thought - you know what? Never mind.” He’s pissed.
“Do you see me laughing Mikey?” Gerard stays in the shadows and clutches at his neck.
“No…” he answers slowly.
“Can we go?” Gerard asks. Mikey nods, because even if this isn’t funny his brother doesn’t look so good...yeah. He nods.
The ride back to the hotel is silent. They take a taxi, because Mikey is a little bit drunk and Gerard just isn’t up for driving. Mikey likes to think that, in general, he is immune to creepy. Gerard has spent most of his life trying to scare Mikey, making him the unfazed adult he is now. Except for right now. It could be the way Gerard looks at Mikey that makes him a little uncomfortable, or maybe it is the silence. He’d have to flip a coin to decide.
As Mikey risks a glance at Gerard’s neck there isn’t anything like a bite mark or something. Of course his brother would tell him some weird shit. It’s Halloween and even if it weren’t, Gerard always liked to tell stories about vampires - tonight isn’t any different. He is just Gerard again -tricking rather than treating, because it’s Halloween.
Gerard doesn’t turn on the light as he crosses the hotel room. Mikey stumbles over something - probably a pair of Gerard’s shoes or some art-stuff. Does it matter? He still tripped on whatever it was.
“Fuck!” he says with feeling.
“What is it?” Gerard asks. The freaky thing is Mikey knows his brother looks at him. Even if he can’t see very well in the darkness of the room.
“Nothing, it's just that your stuff is everywhere.”
“It could be your stuff as well.” Gerard points out.
“I’m sure I stumbled over something you left here…”
“Because you’re not stumbling over your own stuff?” It isn’t really a question and Mikey rolls his eyes before he starts walking towards the bed again.
“I saw that,” his brother whispers.
“Yeah sure!”
“No, really…Mikey. I saw that.”
“You know if you weren’t my brother, you would creep me out.”
“You should be, because you are my brother.” Gerard whispers to him, to the darkness.
“Would you just shut up and sleep?”
“I…can try.” He answers hesitantly.
The truth is he is damn sure he will not be able to sleep at all.
Mikey wakes up a few hours later. It’s still dark outside and his cell phone says it’s barely five in the morning. He doesn’t even know why he woke up in the first place, but then it must have something to do with Gerard. He's been having nightmares again, maybe.
“You smell like him,” his brother’s voice is a whisper but it seems to echo in the room anyway. He’s sitting somewhere nearby in the dark - Mikey can feel it - and that could be seen as pretty creepy.
“What?” he says, and he slurs the word because it’s five in the fucking morning.
“You smell like him.” Gerard repeats. If Mikey wasn't Gerard’s brother and ‘weird’ wasn't what they call a lifestyle, he would be worried now, but he is Gerard's brother and 'weird' is their lifestyle, so he's still just fidgety. And besides he spent the last twenty odd years having conversations like this.
“Who?” Mikey asks with a sigh and sits up rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Were you staring at me?”
“Him - and yeah, for a while.” He can almost feel Gerard nod his head in the early dawn gloom of the room.
“Pete?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean, I smell like him?” Mikey wants to know. It’s just not the time for this conversation if there is a good time for this kind of conversation at all.
“You smell like him, just like him…and smoke and beer and sweat and - just you.” ‘And blood, and me,’ Gerard thinks but doesn’t say it. He is strangely calm about the whole thing.
“Do I really want to know how you know what Pete smells like?” Mikey asks. His voice is calm but Gerard is really pushing the Freak Mikey Out line now.
Mikey tries to make out Gerard sitting on the other bed, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. He’s silent for a few minutes as if trying to figure out how to tell his brother something bad and that he isn’t sorry about what he did. Mikey flashes back to when Gerard confessed to the coke. Oh God. Is he on…
“I drained him.” Gerard interrupts his thoughts
“What?”
“I killed him, drank his blood and all that?” Gerard rubs his eye, as if trying to remember exactly what he did.
“You did what?” Mikey asks searching for his cell. It has to be here somewhere; he had it just a few minutes ago.
“Drank his blood.”
“Yeah. Right.” Mikey says sarcastically, yet something makes him dig around desperately for his phone. Where the fuck is it? Just call Pete and make sure…not that he believes Gerard - he doesn’t. He just wants to make sure.
“I…Mikey, I’m not kidding.” Gerard says softly. “I mean, like, the details are fuzzy, and I’m not really sure Pete is actually dead…I wasn’t really paying that much attention to Pete when I…” he motions with his hand in vague circles, “you know…drank his blood.”
Mikey is silent for a few heartbeats -Gerard can hear them too. Fluttery little things smashing against his ribcage like birds into a glass wall. The bloody images just don’t want to leave him. But now they don’t seem to be scary. They’re different…appealing maybe?
“Fuck, Gerard. Just. Stop. Ok? We’re too old for this kind of crap. Where the fuck is my phone?”
“Mikey, I’m serious. Here.” Gerard answers, stands up and gives him his phone.
“Thanks.” Mikey says absentminded, dialling Pete’s number. Gerard just waits, silently standing at Mikey’s bed. Maybe waiting with him to hear everything is okay, but he really doesn’t need to know that. It doesn’t matter.
“He’s not picking up.” Mikey says softly.
“Well…”
“He’s not dead! Probably passed out on Ativan” Mikey shrugs trying to shake off the growing sense of dread chilling his spine.
“You don’t know that,” Gerard answers calmly.
“You don’t know it either.” Mikey is stubborn, always was.
“I’m pretty sure.”
“That’s just…”
“-Unbelievable?”
“Crazy,” Mikey says looking in his brother’s direction.
“Thanks…”
“You know it is,” Mikey answers, his blood heating as he gets angry, worried and maybe a little bit afraid.
“Let’s play the ‘let’s pretend’-game.” Says Gerard. Mikey rolls his eyes. “Let’s pretend I’m not crazy.”
Mikey takes a deep breath, nods and says: “Okay, I’m listening,” because this is his brother.
“I was out after you fell asleep…there was this…like, hunger…I know, cliché right? Just go with it, okay?” he asks and Mikey nods again. “The first one was a homeless girl…I don’t know… everything is a little bit blurry in my mind…the images aren’t really faces, more scents and tastes…memories…” he stops and looks at Mikey, who stares at him. “I’ve seen everything he did with you…every kiss, every taste he took, every touch - every single touch. He thinks…thought you are beautiful, perfect. His.”
“Stop. Gerard. I really don’t want to hear more.” Mikey whispers. It sounds broken. Gerard laughs, because it really doesn’t matter what Mikey wants. He knows it should, it did for so long but it doesn’t anymore.
“You know…I figured some things out already. We, I mean vampires, don’t go after virgins. Their blood isn’t special. But we can smell the innocent…” he says quietly.
What he doesn’t say is that they can smell family, too, and that the scent of blood shared with a human is irresistible.
Mikey is afraid now, its light enough for him to make out Gerard’s face and he’s looking at him like Mikey looks at the last California roll at Yo! Sushi. He gulps nervously.
“You’re really, like, serious about this. Aren’t you?” he asks, his voice shaking a little.
Gerard isn’t sure yet if Mikey’s afraid of him or for him. In the end that doesn’t matter either way.
“So,” Mikey says not really believing he’s actually having this conversation, “If you don’t go for virgins then what do you go for?”
“Fear.” Gerard says simply, suddenly behind Mikey. “The smell of it. If only you could smell how it fills the room to the brim, how it fills my head.” Gerard always had a flair for the dramatics. He breathes in deeply, leans forward to lick the sweat off Mikey’s skin, like he couldn't before. It’s the primal part of him this is calling to.
Mikey shudders, whines out ‘Gerard’ and pushes him away. He can’t quite get ‘gross’ out.
“And we don’t leave anyone alive we share blood with.”
“What?”
“It’s not healthy to do that. Every instinct screams at us. To do something…something you might call horrible. It’s not for me…horrible I mean. It’s survival ”
“Gerard…”
”Quiet, Mikey…”
He can hear the night. The night sounds beautiful. He didn’t even know before this happened to him that something so beautiful exists. There is the faint scent of blood on his clothes and the screams linger softly in his mind, but they are already fading into nothing. The taste remains. The memories, a childhood spent inside the house, sitting on the porch, the first cigarette, the first kiss.
Not his.
The wind whispers outside the car as he heads for Jersey.
~*~
In the picture he is six, and pretty cute. Mikey doesn’t think that often about himself. He wasn’t a very good looking child, and he doesn’t even want to think about his teenage years - not cute at all. Gerard always says this was the year, and maybe it’s true. He doesn’t remember much from his early childhood, after all.
In this picture he stands in front of the house, trying to smile, a shy smile that his mother finds adorable, and there is glitter everywhere on his face, and he should feel bad or stupid about it, because it’s such a girlie thing. He doesn’t.
His hair is really light and bright like his clothes.
“You know…the pumpkin is bigger than you.” Gerard says. Mikey smiles because Gerard always says that when they look at this picture together.
Gerard was a vampire that year again and Mikey…
Mikey was a unicorn.
~*~
~End~
Author: alles_luege
Pairing: none
Rating: PG-13
Summary: If there was a supernatural thing in the area, it would find Gerard. Obviously.
Warning(s): character death, mention of Mikey/Pete
Author’s Notes: Thanks to my betas this turned out to be so much funnier. Also guest appearance by FOB, because Patrick Stump needs to be in every fic. *laughs*
Word Count: 2.393
Beta: tygermine ,neverglass and crayolarainbows (Honestly, the best thing that can happen to an author are awesome betas! Thank you so much.)
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real.
~*~
The first clear memory Mikey has of Gerard, is a Halloween one. He doesn’t know why; maybe it’s because brains just work like that - people remember the most random stuff from their earliest childhood.
Whatever the reason, what he remembers is a pale boy with dark hair and big, pointy teeth, almost fangs, but not quite. Gerard was, of course, a vampire, out in the dark to hunt for candy. Mikey was four. He doesn't remember his own costume, but he remembers Gerard's pale, pale face.
~*~
“Halloween is just the best holiday,” he says and sees Mikey nod. Okay, so he says it every year, but it's true. Halloween is the best holiday, even when you're a grown-up. You can still buy candy, and put on some make-up, and a scary costume, plus there is alcohol and cigarettes. So, maybe just the candy and cigarettes for him, but still.
“You do know your life is like Halloween, right?” Mikey asks after a while; he doesn’t put the magazine he’s (not) reading down though.
“It’s not the same.” Gerard says offended.
“Yes, I can see why not: The costumes? The drama? The smoking and music and candy, after show parties are nothing like Halloween…”
“There aren’t any pumpkins!” Gerard says, and Mikey rolls his eyes. Really, sometimes his brother is just too weird.
“I see. Wait! Do you want some pumpkins for the next show?!” he wants to know, putting the magazine down at least to look at Gerard.
“Uh, no,” he says, but it’s more like a question.
“’No?’ or ‘No.’” Mikey asks.
“No.”
“Okay,” he says. There isn’t anything else to say, but he sighs with relief because…pumpkins! Too weird even for them.
The party is loud, there are people everywhere, and the Halloween decorations, in a word, are crappy. The music makes up for the poor décor by being great, but what do you expect from a bunch of boys playing guitars and screaming their lungs out? Yes, old school rock and weird East -European hardcore bands.
It isn’t that surprising that he loses sight of Gerard at some point while he talks to Joe and Patrick. (There is always the Pete-issue with Gerard, even if Pete isn’t actually anywhere in sight.) He isn’t worried exactly but…yeah. Gerard and Halloween have always been close, and Halloween and trouble are lovers. So…he isn’t worried as much as just fidgety. Yeah…that. He knows that Gerard wouldn’t do something stupid - not now that he is sober. Mikey knows that. It doesn’t stop him from searching the crowd for Gerard’s familiar head every minute or so, though.
At two in the morning he sits outside the house on the porch alone where five seconds before there was Pete rambling about life, love, death and everything in between. Mikey often thinks that Pete is a little bit like Gerard - a Gerard without all the slightly creepy weirdness, which isn't Gerard at all, so maybe not.
The night is moonless, and he can’t help but think that there should be a moon, all creepy with heavy dark clouds and a bloody frame maybe, something red and… well, something Gerard would paint, maybe he already did. Really it would be just so cliché and dorky and just a little cool, which, well, explains pretty much everything about Gerard.
Doesn’t it? Mikey is sure his brother would like it.
His brother; whom he can’t find inside the fucking house. And that’s why he’s here, because maybe Gerard is outside, gone for a smoke or buying cigarettes or being eaten by a werewolf, battling zombies or something grotesque like that. Because if there is a supernatural thing in the area, it would find Gerard. Obviously. He shakes his head in frustration, and then, finally, sees him out of the corner of his eyes.
“Where the hell have you been?” he demands, because he wasn't just fidgety; he was worried.
“Being bitten by a vampire…”
“That isn’t funny - I thought - you know what? Never mind.” He’s pissed.
“Do you see me laughing Mikey?” Gerard stays in the shadows and clutches at his neck.
“No…” he answers slowly.
“Can we go?” Gerard asks. Mikey nods, because even if this isn’t funny his brother doesn’t look so good...yeah. He nods.
The ride back to the hotel is silent. They take a taxi, because Mikey is a little bit drunk and Gerard just isn’t up for driving. Mikey likes to think that, in general, he is immune to creepy. Gerard has spent most of his life trying to scare Mikey, making him the unfazed adult he is now. Except for right now. It could be the way Gerard looks at Mikey that makes him a little uncomfortable, or maybe it is the silence. He’d have to flip a coin to decide.
As Mikey risks a glance at Gerard’s neck there isn’t anything like a bite mark or something. Of course his brother would tell him some weird shit. It’s Halloween and even if it weren’t, Gerard always liked to tell stories about vampires - tonight isn’t any different. He is just Gerard again -tricking rather than treating, because it’s Halloween.
Gerard doesn’t turn on the light as he crosses the hotel room. Mikey stumbles over something - probably a pair of Gerard’s shoes or some art-stuff. Does it matter? He still tripped on whatever it was.
“Fuck!” he says with feeling.
“What is it?” Gerard asks. The freaky thing is Mikey knows his brother looks at him. Even if he can’t see very well in the darkness of the room.
“Nothing, it's just that your stuff is everywhere.”
“It could be your stuff as well.” Gerard points out.
“I’m sure I stumbled over something you left here…”
“Because you’re not stumbling over your own stuff?” It isn’t really a question and Mikey rolls his eyes before he starts walking towards the bed again.
“I saw that,” his brother whispers.
“Yeah sure!”
“No, really…Mikey. I saw that.”
“You know if you weren’t my brother, you would creep me out.”
“You should be, because you are my brother.” Gerard whispers to him, to the darkness.
“Would you just shut up and sleep?”
“I…can try.” He answers hesitantly.
The truth is he is damn sure he will not be able to sleep at all.
Mikey wakes up a few hours later. It’s still dark outside and his cell phone says it’s barely five in the morning. He doesn’t even know why he woke up in the first place, but then it must have something to do with Gerard. He's been having nightmares again, maybe.
“You smell like him,” his brother’s voice is a whisper but it seems to echo in the room anyway. He’s sitting somewhere nearby in the dark - Mikey can feel it - and that could be seen as pretty creepy.
“What?” he says, and he slurs the word because it’s five in the fucking morning.
“You smell like him.” Gerard repeats. If Mikey wasn't Gerard’s brother and ‘weird’ wasn't what they call a lifestyle, he would be worried now, but he is Gerard's brother and 'weird' is their lifestyle, so he's still just fidgety. And besides he spent the last twenty odd years having conversations like this.
“Who?” Mikey asks with a sigh and sits up rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Were you staring at me?”
“Him - and yeah, for a while.” He can almost feel Gerard nod his head in the early dawn gloom of the room.
“Pete?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean, I smell like him?” Mikey wants to know. It’s just not the time for this conversation if there is a good time for this kind of conversation at all.
“You smell like him, just like him…and smoke and beer and sweat and - just you.” ‘And blood, and me,’ Gerard thinks but doesn’t say it. He is strangely calm about the whole thing.
“Do I really want to know how you know what Pete smells like?” Mikey asks. His voice is calm but Gerard is really pushing the Freak Mikey Out line now.
Mikey tries to make out Gerard sitting on the other bed, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. He’s silent for a few minutes as if trying to figure out how to tell his brother something bad and that he isn’t sorry about what he did. Mikey flashes back to when Gerard confessed to the coke. Oh God. Is he on…
“I drained him.” Gerard interrupts his thoughts
“What?”
“I killed him, drank his blood and all that?” Gerard rubs his eye, as if trying to remember exactly what he did.
“You did what?” Mikey asks searching for his cell. It has to be here somewhere; he had it just a few minutes ago.
“Drank his blood.”
“Yeah. Right.” Mikey says sarcastically, yet something makes him dig around desperately for his phone. Where the fuck is it? Just call Pete and make sure…not that he believes Gerard - he doesn’t. He just wants to make sure.
“I…Mikey, I’m not kidding.” Gerard says softly. “I mean, like, the details are fuzzy, and I’m not really sure Pete is actually dead…I wasn’t really paying that much attention to Pete when I…” he motions with his hand in vague circles, “you know…drank his blood.”
Mikey is silent for a few heartbeats -Gerard can hear them too. Fluttery little things smashing against his ribcage like birds into a glass wall. The bloody images just don’t want to leave him. But now they don’t seem to be scary. They’re different…appealing maybe?
“Fuck, Gerard. Just. Stop. Ok? We’re too old for this kind of crap. Where the fuck is my phone?”
“Mikey, I’m serious. Here.” Gerard answers, stands up and gives him his phone.
“Thanks.” Mikey says absentminded, dialling Pete’s number. Gerard just waits, silently standing at Mikey’s bed. Maybe waiting with him to hear everything is okay, but he really doesn’t need to know that. It doesn’t matter.
“He’s not picking up.” Mikey says softly.
“Well…”
“He’s not dead! Probably passed out on Ativan” Mikey shrugs trying to shake off the growing sense of dread chilling his spine.
“You don’t know that,” Gerard answers calmly.
“You don’t know it either.” Mikey is stubborn, always was.
“I’m pretty sure.”
“That’s just…”
“-Unbelievable?”
“Crazy,” Mikey says looking in his brother’s direction.
“Thanks…”
“You know it is,” Mikey answers, his blood heating as he gets angry, worried and maybe a little bit afraid.
“Let’s play the ‘let’s pretend’-game.” Says Gerard. Mikey rolls his eyes. “Let’s pretend I’m not crazy.”
Mikey takes a deep breath, nods and says: “Okay, I’m listening,” because this is his brother.
“I was out after you fell asleep…there was this…like, hunger…I know, cliché right? Just go with it, okay?” he asks and Mikey nods again. “The first one was a homeless girl…I don’t know… everything is a little bit blurry in my mind…the images aren’t really faces, more scents and tastes…memories…” he stops and looks at Mikey, who stares at him. “I’ve seen everything he did with you…every kiss, every taste he took, every touch - every single touch. He thinks…thought you are beautiful, perfect. His.”
“Stop. Gerard. I really don’t want to hear more.” Mikey whispers. It sounds broken. Gerard laughs, because it really doesn’t matter what Mikey wants. He knows it should, it did for so long but it doesn’t anymore.
“You know…I figured some things out already. We, I mean vampires, don’t go after virgins. Their blood isn’t special. But we can smell the innocent…” he says quietly.
What he doesn’t say is that they can smell family, too, and that the scent of blood shared with a human is irresistible.
Mikey is afraid now, its light enough for him to make out Gerard’s face and he’s looking at him like Mikey looks at the last California roll at Yo! Sushi. He gulps nervously.
“You’re really, like, serious about this. Aren’t you?” he asks, his voice shaking a little.
Gerard isn’t sure yet if Mikey’s afraid of him or for him. In the end that doesn’t matter either way.
“So,” Mikey says not really believing he’s actually having this conversation, “If you don’t go for virgins then what do you go for?”
“Fear.” Gerard says simply, suddenly behind Mikey. “The smell of it. If only you could smell how it fills the room to the brim, how it fills my head.” Gerard always had a flair for the dramatics. He breathes in deeply, leans forward to lick the sweat off Mikey’s skin, like he couldn't before. It’s the primal part of him this is calling to.
Mikey shudders, whines out ‘Gerard’ and pushes him away. He can’t quite get ‘gross’ out.
“And we don’t leave anyone alive we share blood with.”
“What?”
“It’s not healthy to do that. Every instinct screams at us. To do something…something you might call horrible. It’s not for me…horrible I mean. It’s survival ”
“Gerard…”
”Quiet, Mikey…”
He can hear the night. The night sounds beautiful. He didn’t even know before this happened to him that something so beautiful exists. There is the faint scent of blood on his clothes and the screams linger softly in his mind, but they are already fading into nothing. The taste remains. The memories, a childhood spent inside the house, sitting on the porch, the first cigarette, the first kiss.
Not his.
The wind whispers outside the car as he heads for Jersey.
~*~
In the picture he is six, and pretty cute. Mikey doesn’t think that often about himself. He wasn’t a very good looking child, and he doesn’t even want to think about his teenage years - not cute at all. Gerard always says this was the year, and maybe it’s true. He doesn’t remember much from his early childhood, after all.
In this picture he stands in front of the house, trying to smile, a shy smile that his mother finds adorable, and there is glitter everywhere on his face, and he should feel bad or stupid about it, because it’s such a girlie thing. He doesn’t.
His hair is really light and bright like his clothes.
“You know…the pumpkin is bigger than you.” Gerard says. Mikey smiles because Gerard always says that when they look at this picture together.
Gerard was a vampire that year again and Mikey…
Mikey was a unicorn.
~*~
~End~