You Like Audrey Hepburn

Ain't No Party Like a Way Party Ammiright Of Course I Am

It was anniversary of the annual 6 m yacht races and as it had been traditional for the past years, the Ways giving the party. It never rained on the night of a Ways party. The Ways wouldn't have stood for it. There were four Ways in all. Mother, father and two sons. Donna and Donald way were married in 1906. Among the many wedding presents was a townhouse in New York and this estate for weekends. The townhouse has since been converted into Saks fifth Avenue. Gerard Way, the elder son, graduated from Yale, where is classmates voted him the most likely to leave his alma mater millions. His brother, Mikey, went though several of the best eastern college is for short periods of time, and though several marriages for even shorter periods of time. He is now a successful six-pole polo player and is listed on Gerard's tax returns as a money deduction. Life was pleasant among the Ways, for this is as close to heaven as one can get on Long Island.

---
"Come on down from there, Frank!" Frank's mother, Linda, called.
"Come on."
"You'd better finish your packing."
Frank glanced down from the tree he was perched in. He was was watching the ball the Way's threw every year around this time. Every year they threw it, he was still uninvited.

"Who's that boy, Mother, dancing with Mikey?"

"His name is Peter Louis Kingston Wentz." Linda replied, informatively.
"Chase National Bank."

Frank glared disdainfully at the scene once again.
"I hate people that giggle all the time."

Linda shrugged, helpless to the situation.
"You hate every boy Mikey looks at." Linda changed her tone more seriously.
"You can't go on like this about Mikey. You've got to get over it."

"Yes, Mother." Frank replied emotionlessly.

Linda continued, "It's good you're going away. I only hope it's far enough."

"Yes, Mother."

"Come along, Frank." She repeated.

"In a minute, Mother. You go ahead." Frank sighed. He didn't need this right now. Or ever really.
"I'll be up soon."

Linda strolled away, she'd take what she could get.

Frank stared for a little while longer. He tortures himself, but he doesn't care. As he started to ascend from the tree, He heard someone start to rush by. He peeked over his shoulder. Oh crap, Mikey! He turned to hide himself in the bush and tree. Mikey caught onto him though.

"Oh, it's you, Frank." Mikey half-exclaimed. He sounded a little panicked.

"Hello, Mikey." Frank stated, flatly.

"I thought I heard somebody." Mikey deadpanned.

"No, it's nobody." Frank said wryly, looking to the floor.

And with that painfully awkward situation, Mikey meandered down the little paved walkway that lead to the indoor tennis fields.
---
"Pete! Yoo-hoo!" Mikey called out into the darkness, once he entered the court.
"Tennis, anyone?"
"Pete?" He shouted once more.
He heard a giggle in the void. Ah, there he was.
"What is this, mixed singles?" He said with somewhat of a giggle, approaching the now visible Pete.
He was about to step over the net, to be near Pete.
"No! You have to stay on your side of the net!" Pete suddenly called out, breaking the silence.

"That'll be a little difficult, Pete," Mikey replied slyly.

Pete flashed him a shit eating grin. "You know the rules of the game..."

Mikey complied, like many others, he'd take what he could get.
"OK, I'll serve." He said as he strutted over to the net, but not obsecuring it.
--
Frank stepped into his apartment, just above the garage.
"Frank!" a slightly asleep Linda called out.