Follow me home (Frerard)

Let me break this awkward silence

Gerard's POV

Nearly three weeks pass. Nineteen days since deactivating my Twitter account. I would be lying if I said I didn't pull the same webpage up every single day, staring longingly at the little blue icon and regret my decision. A few times, I even clicked sign in, typing in my old username and password. But each time, I would close out before hitting continue.

I tried to keep myself busy, but it was hard since I didn't want to come out of my room. There's only so much I can do in the confines of a fifteen square foot bedroom. At first, I focused all of my attention on school and finishing up the projects that were due before Thanksgiving. I finished everything within the first week and was left to my own devices. After that, I tried to work on Umbrella Academy, but that was even worse than doing nothing. As I sat on my bed, sketchbook in my lap, I found my own hands creating the eyes I'd only ever seen once. Frank's. Needless to say, I ripped that drawing up and actually burned the pieces in the ashtray beside my bed. 

Bob only tried to talk to me a few times since the night I talked to Frank on Skype, the night that I kicked Bob out of my room and told him to stop helping me. I think, after a few days, he got the point that I was still pissed at him and wanted to be left alone.

Of course, it was on the nineteenth day that everything changed.

It was Thanksgiving day and I was curled on my bed, watching The Matrix on my laptop, when a black pop-up appeared across the screen. It was an incoming call from Skype. Seeing the words "MikeyMouse" flashing, I sigh and answer the call. Almost immediately, I'm confronted with my brother's cheerful face. "Hey bitch tits!" He grins. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Yeah, whatever," I grumble and shift on the bed so I'm more comfortably holding the laptop.

Mikey frowns at me and his eyebrows crease. "Whoa, you look like shit."

"Thanks."

"When's the last time you slept?" He asks.

"Yesterday," I reply vaguely, leaving out the fact that I only slept for a total of three hours.

"What about eating?" He wonders. "Please tell me you didn't have microwavable lasagna for Thanksgiving."

"I did not have microwavable lasagna," I say honestly. Mikey smiles approvingly for only a second before I mutter, "I had frozen pizza."

My brother rolls his eyes at me, sighing. "Where's Bob?"

I shrug, not really caring. "Out with his girlfriend, I think. I don't know. I haven't talked to him in like three weeks."

One of Mikey's eyebrows shoot up. "Why? Did you guys have a fight?"

I groan, giving Mikey a harsh look. "Does it matter?"

Mikey sighs and rolls his eyes. "Fine, if you don't want to tell me, don't. I'll just call Bob and--"

"I met somebody," I blurt out, but immediately bite down on my lip. A small smirk appears on my brothers lips when I eventually continue. "A guy. A really cute, awesome, fantastic guy."

"Awww," Mikey coos. "My big brother is playing the dating game! Fucking finally!"

"Yeah," I smile sarcastically. "And then your big brother's roommate fucked it all up and this fantastic guy called me a creep and told me to never talk to him again."

"Oh..." Mikey's enthusiasm disappears and he frowns. "Well what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I say, crossing my arms and slinking back in my pillows.

But Mikey just shakes his head at me. "Yes, you do. Now spill."

So I do. I tell Mikey everything, from Frank's very first message on Twitter to the message Bob sent him on Skype and even about the Skype call itself. When I finish, Mikey's brow is furrowed and he looks deep in thought. "That doesn't make any sense," He finally says. "You guys were talking perfectly fine until Bob barged in, right?"