Gerard's POV
We were all on the tour bus, except Mikey. He texted me earlier, and he seemed depressed, like he was angry yet so uncomfortable. I don't know how to describe it, so here's a little preview of our conversation on our phones:
Me: Dude, where the heck are ya?
Mikey: Erm, well, um...I'm coming. I'll be there LATER! Get off of my case!
Just one text message from him, and he seemed angry. He's never lashed out at me before. I try to shrug it off, but my mind was glued to Mikey, it seemed Ray was in deep thought too. Maybe he was thinking about Michael, he seems to have a right interest in what he's doing, like he's being protective. I take it as nothing, they are best mates anyway.
Anyway, so we were all in our bedroom on the tour bus, and we were all doing our own thing. I was sat on my bed, leaned against the wall with my legs crossed. I had a notepad that Frank got me for my birthday last year. I was making another comic, I got good skills as a drawer. Bob has a go at me for it, considering it to be showing off. I don't care. Frank was next to me, his head on my shoulder. He had a guitar in his hands, plucking some notes to an extent that it ended up being random notes and chords here and there.
Ray was sat on the other side of the room, on one of our chairs. He had his head on the back of it, bored of just waiting. He seemed to be deep in thought. Bob was fiddling with his drumsticks, tapping them on the end of his bed. It was starting to get a bit annoying, he was tapping the same beat that I nearly lashed out on him.
"God sake Bob, change the channel," Frank commented as he rolled his head so he was looking at me, a smile tugging at his lips. Bob looked up at the sound of his name. He turned his head in many directions before he realised that Frank wasn't exactly being literal.
"There's no TV," he stated, completely confused. Ray groaned as did Frank.
"I'm not on about the bloody TV screen you dimwit, I'm on about your tune, it's repeating itself. Find new material!" Frank snapped.
Again, Bob didn't catch on. "I only have wood drumsticks," his voice on one level, as if it was obvious.
Ray, Frank and me chorused a big groan at Bob's oblivity.
"STOP TAPPING!" Ray lashed out.
We all looked up, staring at Ray like he had his hair on fire, that'd be funny.
"Um, sorry," Ray muttered as he closed his eyes again, facing a different direction.
It went quiet after that. We were all in our own worlds, forgetting other people where in the same room. My hand raced across the page before I scrubbed a few lines here and there. But the only sound that could be heard was my pencil roaming across the paper. It was so silent that it was almost uncomfortable. I glanced towards Frank, realising he wasn't even playing his guitar. He was content on laying on my shoulder, breathing in my scent. His eyes were closed, but for a breif second they opened to stare at me. His soft smile making me shake a bit as well as feeling quite excited. I had no idea why I felt like that. I flashed him my one sided grin and went back to drawing. I was so into my ideas for the comic, making sure the bullet was drawn perfectly, not aiming in the wrong direction that I zoned out to everything else.
I then heard the door to our room on the bus slam open with such force it actually tore the door off it's hinges.
"You know what? HOMOPHOBIA IS SPREADING LIKE THE FUCKING PLAGUE!" a voice screamed with agitation, it was Mikey's.
We were all completely thrown off guard by his sentence. We all looked up slowly from what we were doing to stare at my younger brother in disbelief. Did he just say homophobia was spreading like the black plague? Please tell me I didn't just dream that.
"Excuse me?" I had to know if I was going insane.
Mikey's usually soft eyes were completely frozen, as if he wanted to go on a killing spree.
"You heard me!" he snapped harshly, but then relented. "You did hear me, right?" his voice suddenly uncertain.
We all nodded, still thrown off. I stood up, placing my book next to me. I strolled over to my younger brother. His head snapped into my direction. Jesus Christ. If looks could kill then, well, bye bye world.
"Mikey?" I asked, gulping. Mikey has never been like this. Never. His eyes grew softer, and busted out into tears. He ran away from our room, through the broken door. Ray immediately followed, as if it was his duty.
"What was THAT?" Frank suddenly spoke up. I turned my head to look at him and our eyes locked. I had no idea what just happened.
"I better go talk to him," I choked, I couldn't get my words out. But before I could reach the hole (the door, couldn't call it that naymore, Mikey completely broke it in half), I was stopped. I turned my head just as Frank took me into a hug. I was again shocked. He was never this clingy. But for some reason I didn't deny him, and wrapped my arms around him.
"You better fix him," Frank whispered. "He's our bassist," yep, this is my Frank. Wait, did I just say my Frank? Oh well.
I laughed heartily and so did Frankie. I let go of him, gave him my signature wink and left the room. I walked into the kitchen to find Mikey crying his eyes out, Ray right next to him.
"Ray? Can I talk to Mike," I whispered. Ray looked up and nodded. He gave one last longing glance at Mikey before getting up and leaving. I took my seat next to Mikey and sighed.
"Mikes, what's wrong? What the heck was that?" I ask, referring to his statement.
"Nothin," he replied. I grabbed his shoulder violently and shook him.
"Tell me!" my anger rose. He quivered in fear before nodding. I let go of him and he faced me.
"Before I got to our tour bus, I was coming home from school, forgetting some books. You remember Brent?" he asked gulping. I clenched my fists whilst nodding, I hated Brent.
"Well, he spotted me, and I knew I was in for it. So he came over to me and batted my books out of my hands. He raised his fists, shouting my name, as well as calling me a fag. You know, a faggot, and then he punched me. I think I blanked out for half an hour so something. I don't know. But anyway, I was really confused. why had he called me a faggot? I've been called many things in my past like nerd, punk, emo-freak, freakazoid, geek and many more. But never faggot. I've never imagined myself being gay, but then again I wasn't technically straight either. And then I had an epithany," he told me. His voice was strained, his eyss were already wet.
"About what?" I ask softly.
"I am gay, Gerard. Please don't hate me!" he screeched, crying full on. How in the world can I hate him.
I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him close. "With who?" I ask.
"No one. But I do like someone," Mikey admitted. I smile softly at him.
"Who do you have a crush on?" I ask, being more specific.
"Okay, don't hate me," he started. I shook my head, laughing slightly.
"I can't hate you Mikes," I smirk. He laughs softly too before continuing.
"Ray."
I freeze immediately. Ray? RAY? Whoa. Had I missed so much?
"That's....." He winced as if I was going to say something bad. "Awesome!" I say in the end, smiling full on.
His eyes went wide. "So you don't hate me?" he asked weakly.
"Not at all. Like I said, I can't hate you. I'm just glad you fell in love with someone I approve of. So, why do you like him? Give me details," I felt like a gossip right then. I just needed to cheer him up.
He laughs at my eagerness. "Well, he's sweet, he always comforts me, he always ends up making me laugh just like you, he has his goofy side, he has knowledge like I do," he was gunna continue until I stopped him.
"I have knowledge!" I defended.
He laughed again. "Of course you do," sarcasm dripping from his tongue. I rolled my eyes.
So Mikey was back. We walked back into the bedroom and I had to do a double take. Frankie was laying on my bed, shirt off (thank God he had his pants on, somehow whenever we had sleepovers he'd always forget to put pants on, scarring us all for life), and his hand in his hair. His eyes were closed and he looked amazing.
WAIT! STOP! FREEZE! I DIDN'T SAY THAT!
Frank opened his brilliant shining eyes pnce he acknowledged my entrance.
"Hey, Gee," he greeted.
"Hi," I mumbled, kinda at loss for words. Hey don't judge me.
He smiled softly at me. I actually melted. Then I thought about what Mikey had said.
I started rumaging through my brain to find things that I like about Frank. I found this list:
He doesn't care about expressing himself, he says what he thinks, he has a sense of humour, he can be so sweet and gentle and yet so hard and rocking, he always has new ways to make me smile and laugh, he always knows what to say to me, he knows exactly what I'm thinking like he can read minds. God I could go on forever, not to mention that his eyes are perfect, as well as his hair.
I think I may have a confession to make. I guess I fancy my best mate. Great position I'm in(!)
I've knwon Frank for forever, I couldn't have just realised I like him like that now could I? Wait, what did Mikey say about an epithany? Did I just have one of them. I hadn't noticed that Frank had strutted towards me, slinging an arm around my shoulder.
"Gerard to Earth!" he called, making me smile at him. He winked at me and I had to keep my composture.
"C-Can I talk to you?" I stumbled over my words. He glanced at everyone before his gaze landed back on me.
"Sure," he giggled. Frank ran out of the room, me following him.
I had to confess, right? Course. I needed to get this tense atmosphere away from me, so telling him may be a good idea.
We sat in the living room. I made sure we were opposite each other, making it easier to see each others expressions.
"What do you want to say to me?" he asked, his bubbly energy showing.
Jesus Christ. Here we go. Wish me luck!