Patron Saint of the Denial

Chapter Two

Same and simple.

A description of my mornings. I groaned, pushing myself out of bed as a response to my alarm clock, nowhere near fully awakened. As I became less groggy, I couldn't help but to grin at the alarm's tune. "Hybrid Moments, Misfits," I said silently. I sigh. Static Age is such an underrated album.

The rest of the morning was a usual rush. Throwing on clothes that quite obviously weren't ironed, chugging a hidden Monster under my bed, hygiene, and choosing to brush my hair on the bus.

Before I had even realized it, I was on the bus and slumping in my usual seat.

Bus rides were sublime, at least for me. While students bickered, girls squealed and gangster rap was played from the back, I sat in my seat, immersed in my music. No one ever sat with me, so space was always offered by the seat for laying down or outstretched legs.

Except for today.

Unexpectedly, a boy who looked about my age appeared next to me, brushing his black hair from in front of his eyes. "Hey, is this seat taken? Seems like all the rest are," he says, snickering slightly at his own statement.

A million thoughts pass through my head. "Who is he? Is he teasing? Could he be a friend? Is he in my grade? Do I really want one? Don't be a dick, Frank."

"Did you...just mention your dick?", the boy said, blushing furiously. "Ah...um..." I mentally facepalmed. Real nice English there, Frank.

"NO! I mean, you can sit here," I finally said, shifting my legs and backpack onto the rumbling metal floor. "I was talking about those guys back there," I said, pointing a thumb in the jock's direction. "They're major dicks."

It was only as he sat down and turned to me that I realized how beautiful he was. Hazel eyes that pierced into me, stringy, jet black hair, and the cutest smile, with tiny teeth.

Then, I mentally slapped the crap out of myself.

"Get over it! You've known him for one minute, and you're already fawning over the dude," I thought as he turned to me and I noticed the shirt.

He looked at my iPod in my hand. "The Offspring? I love them! Well, obviously, or else I wouldn't be wearing this," he said, tugging lightly on his shirt and staring at it, just as if he were inspecting it for stains.

"Ixnay On The Hombre? Oh my god, that album is amazing!" I fangirled slightly about his shirt then shut up...until he did too. As he scrolled on Twitter, he squealed almost silently, the cutest thing I had ever heard. "FOO FIGHTERS TOUR" was all he exclaimed yet it was all I needed to know.

I thought back to last night when they performed "I Am A River" on the Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. "And it matches your shirt," he commented.

It was the handmade shirt with the Sonic Highways cover on it. "Yeah, it does," I said, his band knowledge making him significantly cooler. For a moment, we sat completely silent. The silence was immediately broken when the bus passed over an obviously massive object. We passed over it, almost collapsing into each other, laughing as the events played out.

"Oh and by the way, you got a name?" he said, tracing something lightly on my shirt. "The name's Frank. You?" "Gerard," he replied. Gerard. A name that seemed to suit him. Male, but feminine.

I dwelled on that for a while as he grinned and followed a bird with his finger on the bus window, fogging from Gerard's warm breath. He seemed to be a little laconic, but it was a inviting characteristic of him.

"Are you dreaming about comic boy blue over there, Iero?" I quickly pivoted in my seat to glance at my usual tormentor and his gang of assholes. "Fuck off, Sam," I said, trying not to let Gerard see this.

Too late. I could feel his eyes burning into the back of me, then into Sam. "Fine. Have a nice day. Unless, and I'm praying for this, hmm, what was it? Oh yeah, you finally decide to join emo heaven and kill yourself. Wouldn't that just be great, boys?"

I was about to give him a solid right hook when Gerard jerked me around. "Look, I barely know you, but I've established that you're better than them. Don't lower yourself to them," he said, gripping my shoulders and intentionally shouting the last line for Sam to hear.

I'd established something too.

This kid is amazing.

"I could see them glaring at you," I said, staring directly into those hazel eyes. "This is your first fucking day, apparently, and I won't let them-"

Then I shut up. I couldn't help it, I couldn't control my reaction. I felt it, him against me.

His hug was warm, comforting. I hugged him back, feeling warmer thanks to hoodie sleeves.

We were now on the same wavelength: the wavelength that said "forget them, talk, you idiots."

From there we just sat on the seat crosslegged and turned towards each other, discussing art and bands and everything that made us happy. For at least this 20 minute ride, we made each other happy. I had already decided on it at this point, no doubt.

"I, Frank Iero of shriveled raisin, will make sure this guy has the greatest first day ever." I said looking at the sky then directly at him, who I just saw smile as he turned back to chat more.

A/N: What up yo, it's May. It took way too long to write this. I just had a writing session this morning because it's winter break and I don't care today! *throws confetti* ((((Sam is Sam Pepper because sexual assault is utterly unacceptable)))) How are you guys liking this? Is it alright? DOES IT SUCK? Should I continue? I HOPE YOU ALL GET SIGNED COPIES OF HESITANT ALIEN FOR CHRISTMAS. I hope Ray gives you advice on hair care products. But seriously, Happy Holidays. xøMay