Hey! So it's a little late for New Year, but I think this one is quite nice, so I think it's worth it XD Enjoy!
"I'm so done with you all!" I yelled, lacing up my black combat boots.
"Gerard Arthur Way," my mother said in a scarily calm tone, "take your boots off, put on a smile and sit down with your family."
"How about...," I paused, pretending to think as I tapped a finger on my chin, "no?"
I grabbed my jacket and smirked at her flustered expression. She took a deep breath in and ran her tongue along her top teeth, before speaking through clenched teeth. "Gerard. Get back in here right now." I scrunched up my nose and pulled my black leather jacket on. It was then that she snapped and turned around, storming back into the front room.
Mikey hurriedly came towards me, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows, "Gerard?"
"I'll come home this time," I said. Mikey just gave me a doubtful look and I sighed, "I promise I'll be back later tonight, Mikes, don't worry," I tried my best to convince him, ruffling his honey blonde hair as he started walking away from me.
I was about to leave when my mom came running down to hallway to me, and I barely noticed that she was holding a studded black stiletto in her hand, but I knew she'd try to throw it at me.
"You will not leave. No! It's New Year's Eve for God's sake!"
I chuckled bitterly, leaning out of the door, before maliciously blowing her a kiss and replying to her, "Happy fucking New Year."
And that's when she decided to fling the shoe at me – which I narrowly dodged as I swung out of the front door, slamming it behind me.
I knew exactly where I was going.
Doesn't every seventeen year old go to a bar at nine-thirty on New Year's Eve?
I pressed my ear to my bedroom door to better hear the argument going on between my parents downstairs. It sounded bad; the worst argument they'd had in a while. I groaned and flopped back down onto my bed, grabbing my headphones and iPod, deciding that I'd heard enough.
I turned the volume up as high as it'd go, but I could still hear them shouting. I sighed and mumbled to myself as I yanked the headphones off and tossed them to one side, heaving myself off of my bed again.
I cringed when the door handle creaked as I twisted it open. I pulled on my beaten up black converse and crept across the landing, making it halfway down the stairs before I stopped, startled, when I saw my dad standing in front of the door.
"Uh... hey dad...," I mumbled, scratching the back of my neck.
"And where the hell do you think you're going?" He asked as he crossed his arms against his chest.
"I... I was just...," I trailed off, but he kept on staring at me expectantly. I let my head fall in defeat as I made my way back up the stairs.
Well I guess I'll just have to do it the hard way then.
It wasn't the first time I'd had to do that, so I was pretty professional at it. I slid my window up and stuck a leg out, before latching onto the dusty drainpipe and cautiously sliding down it, landing on the cobble driveway and shrugging as I wiped my hands off on my black skinny jeans.
I perched myself on one of the tattered red leather barstools as I rested my chin on my hands. "How the hell is it so empty in here?" I asked the bartender I'd grown to love.
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