Chalk Outline

5: World So Cold

Unfortunately, they had to return to New Jersey, where Gerard would stalk back down to the basement, Frank would lounge around the Way's house, Mikey would spend his time laughing and joking around with Bob and Ray.

Currently, Frank was sat facing the window, ignoring the world around him as he searched for something. He didn't want to, yet there he was, overthinking everything. The blank expression and the lack of movement was the complete opposite of his racing thoughts and pounding heart on the inside. Yes, he was overthinking things again. He just couldn't help it. There was something going on that he didn't know about, but he had no idea where to start searching or asking. It all led back to Gerard somehow. He was he main cause of Frank's restless mind.

Groaning in frustration, the guitarist slammed his hands on the table, his forehead following close behind. He heard someone gasp behind him, then a small laugh. "Don't do that." Mikey hissed. "You scared the living shit out of me."

"My bad." Frank smirked, bringing his head back up to look at Mikey, who had seated himself across from him. "What's up?" He asked, now knowing the younger Way brother probably wasn't going to move unless he had said what he wished to say.

"Have you-"

Frank interrupted him, instantly knowing what he was going to nag him about. "No. I have not. For fucks sake, you want me to talk to him so badly, you do it yourself." He growled, leaning back in his seat before running his fingers through his hair, a scowl on his face.

Mikey snorted, "alright. Not what I came over here to say, but at least I got my request across." He paused, taking a sip of the drink he had been holding. "I came to ask if you'd made sure you got everything ready."

"Why?"

"We're heading back home tomorrow, remember? Our last concert here is today. I don't want you leaving anything like you normally do. Last time you left your guitar back stage and we had to go all the way back to get it."

Frank sighed, feeling guilty for snapping at him previously. "Yeah, yeah, I got everything." He breathed, getting up and walking to the door. Before he left, he turned back, giving Mikey a small smile, "I'll wait on stage until it starts. No one's here yet, so. . ." He trailed off, receiving an 'okay' from Mikey.

~

Gerard didn't want to admit it, but he was nervous. His last drink had been hours ago, maybe even yesterday. He didn't know. All his thoughts were swirling, making him feel confused and light headed as he stood backstage next to Frank, who had Gerard's head resting on his shoulder. "You alright there?" The guitarist questioned because he hadn't heard a single word leave Gerard's mouth since yesterday.

Hesitantly, the singer nodded as he was passed a microphone, the anxiety in him rising. There were only ten minutes left and he knew where he could get a beer in that amount of time. "One minute." He mumbled, leaving Frank confused as he rushed away, dropping the microphone, heading straight to where Bert was: in the corner with his band, which were on after them. "Can I have-can I have. . ?" He stuttered, pointing to the beer in Bert's hand.

"Sure." Bert smirked, handing Gerard a bottle he had had next to his feet, a full one at that. With out any hesitation, Gerard brought the bottle to his lips once he'd opened it, gulping down the burning liquid that stung his eyes until they watered.

"Slow down." Bert chuckled, squinting at the singer, who was lost in the numbing sensation, ignoring everyone as he tried to drink it as fast as he could.

Sadly, that only resulted in an upset stomach. Stepping back one, Gerard let his hand fall to his side, the half empty bottle nearly slipping from his fingers. Suddenly, a sharp pain started in his chest, causing him to cough deeply. Stumbling over to the nearest wall, the singer leaned back against it, putting his hand over his mouth as the coughs only grew worse, hurting his throat and stabbing his chest with each breath. Eventually, the bottle fell from his loose grip, smashing in to shards when it made contact with the ground. Sliding down the wall to the floor, Gerard shut his eyes, resting his head back against the wall as he coughed one last time. Only this time, he noticed the blood on his hand, the dark substance that stood out on his sickly pale skin.