not my type ↬ frerard

29

Months passed. Almost a year.

Gerard walks into the kitchen one morning to find Pete and Mikey sitting at the dining room table, listening to some shitty-sounding punk music playing from Pete's laptop.

"The hell are you listening to?" Gerard asked as he entered, stretching and accidentally hitting the top of a doorframe in the process.

"Did you just wake up?" Donna asked from the living room.

"Yeah, Ma."

"Pencey Prep," Mikey replied.

"Who the fuck is that?"

Pete gave him an odd look. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"You don't know?"

"Don't know what?" Gerard was getting frustrated. He didn't know why this shitty punk band and Pete Wentz were working him up this early.

"Dude, this is Frank's band." Mikey said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Gerard almost fucking stumbled when he registered what the fuck Mikey was saying.

Frank actually managed to achieve something he'd talk to Gerard for hours about; making music.
And now that he actually sat down next to Mikey and listened to the music, it sounded pretty decent.

"He made a whole album, huh." Gerard stared at the song list, amazed.
After a long while, he said, "I'm proud of him."

"They've got a gig tomorrow night, at that shitty bar down a few blocks." Mikey said. "I, uh... I'm going, with Pete."

"That's cool," Gerard sighed, standing up.

"Wanna come with?" Pete asked suddenly.

Gerard paused, looking at Pete. "Frank hates me. I'd rather not ruin his night."

"Just come with us," Mikey said. "You won't regret it."

Gerard heaved a sigh, rubbing his eyes briefly as he thought about it.

"Fine."

a/n: last chapter is next... will probably be up tonight. i have nothing better to do than write. hope you enjoyed. xøryan

new eras:

Gerard

Frank

Mikey

Pete