We Can Always Find Hope

As the Clock Strikes Midnight

**Gerard's POV**

A month passed since Gerard's senior year started at Belleville High, and it quite possibly couldn't get better.

Gerard finally felt at home with people who actually accepted him, loved him, and treated him as more than a friend. The ten of them were so close together, not one of them was without at least another at all times.

But Frank... Frank and Gerard were practically inseparable. The two, from other's point of views, seemed as if they had known each other since childhood, which was, obviously, a complete lie. They spent almost every single moment together either at Frank's house or Gerard's.

Pretty soon, eleven thirty strolled around on October thirtieth. Another half hour until Frank's birthday.

They curled up on the couch in Frank's living room, since his mother was presumably at the bar at that moment, watching random crap on television. Frank's head was resting on Gerard's right shoulder, but he didn't mind, seeing as how close they were initially.

"Frankie?" Gerard whispered, his eyes still focused on the bright screen contrasting with the darkness around them.

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"Go ahead."

"Okay." Gerard stayed silent, wondering if this was an appropriate thing to ask or not.

Frank chuckled. "Any day now, Gee."

Gerard blushed, fond of his nickname.

"So, I wanted to ask... Uhh... What ever happened with your dad?"

Gerard felt Frank grow tense.

**Pete's POV**

"Only twenty five minutes left until the little fucker's birthday." Pete sighed, lying on his back on his bed while Mikey looked around his room, admiring all the posters on his wall.

He snorted. "Probably making out with my brother right about now."

Pete shook his head, laughing. "Wouldn't bet on it." His phone blared Metallica. Mikey raised an eyebrow as Pete read the caller I.D. Patrick.

"Who is it?" Mikey asked as Pete answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Pete! Pete! I need help! Like, dire fucking help! Can I come over?" Patrick sounded nervous, but his voice held a bit of joy in it.

"Sure, Mikey's here, too."

Mikey glanced up from looking at an old photograph of Pete when he was nine, standing behind his birthday cake.

"Okay, thank you so freaking much, Pete! Bye!" Patrick hung up as if he were in a hurry.

"What happened?" Mikey asked as he crawled onto the bed, sitting next to Pete, crossing his long legs.

"Pat. Some important shit. Dunno." Pete shrugged. He bit his lip and Mikey moved closer to him, an uncomfortable feeling wavering under the fabric of his jeans. So, he would admit, it wasn't the first time he felt this way about Mikey, but it was awkward, realizing the fact that a) Mikey would never like him back, seeing as they've only known each other for about a little over a month and a half, and b) his older brother would murder Pete. Like, hardcore murder him.

They sat in silence, when the door burst open, Patrick slamming it shut. He panted for air, as if he had come sprinting all the way from his house down at the end of the block. He ran a hand nervously through his hair, covering his mouth with his other in the process.