---Patrick---

It's always been this city that makes me feel colorblind. This city and this one only. I've always kind of disliked Summit, though, so it's no surprise.

The city is gray.

The people on either side of the street are mostly wearing black or white and even something as colorful as my light gray hoodie looks out of place. Gerard has a neutral look on his features as he drops down on the city block, his legs hanging over the curb and I follow suit, nervously.

He takes out his phone almost immediately for a split second to look at the time: 3:50 PM. We'd been walking for twenty minutes. It seemed like five minutes... Time really does go by fast, doesn't it? I guess it's just because I was deep in thought, wasn't it? He puts his phone away, and I see that we're sitting quite a bit apart. Do I scoot closer or are we alright? I don't want to ask. That would be embarrassing... Instead, I ask him something that he might know and something that's reasonable, "How long until the parade starts?"

He looks to me, his dark eyes sparkling slightly. Not from the sunlight but with... tears? Oh, my goodness is he crying? My heart breaks even more, why is he crying? Is it bothering him that much?

"Are you okay? Holy smokes, what's wrong?" I ask, immediately panicking slightly. How do I comfort him? I've never done this before! Is he going to be alright?

"Patrick, c-calm down. I'm fine..." He sniffles like he can read my thoughts. He wipes his tears with the back of his finger, "I'm okay... I promise... J-Just bad memories... I promise I'll tell you in a little bit, okay? I just need to..." He takes a deep breath, "I just need to calm down..." He smiles, and I see him swallow, "Forty minutes..."

"Huh?" I ask suddenly clueless.

"Forty minutes until the parade starts." He replies, "You asked how long until the parade starts."

I internally sigh in relief because he's stopped crying before responding, "Okay, okay..."

His gaze leaves me as it instead goes across the street, there are no cars parked, and it looks like the city is clearing it for The Black Parade to come through. Waiting patiently. The sky is cloudy and a dark gray like it's going to rain. It worries me slightly because I don't want Gerard to get cold or sick. I could probably let him use my hoodie if he wanted. Then he could have something more than just a light jacket to keep him warm. Is that weird? I don't know why I care about him so much. Is it because he cares for me? Or pretends at least? I don't understand.

There are lots of things I don't understand right now. I'm so confused about... everything but somehow I can still find peace when I'm with him. He clears my mind, and he makes me feel like everything's going to be okay even if I'm seconds from disaster. I don't understand him. I don't understand how he's so... perfect.

I strive to be like him. I wish I had no problems in life. I wish I could be as carefree as Gerard. I wish The Incident had never happened. I wish I could be happy with who I am. I wish I weren't fat. I wish I weren't a failure. I wish, I wish, I wish. But I'm not. I'm not perfect like Gerard. I'm not problem-less like Gerard. I'm not carefree like Gerard. The Incident did happen. I'm not happy with who I am. I am fat. I'm a pathetic failure. My thoughts are going in circles. I can't think straight. I need to clear my mind. I need... Oh god, I need pain... I shut my eyes and try to deal with it. When I get home, I'm going to cut. I'm going to get rid of all this stress.

"Have you ever been to a parade before?"

My eyes open to see Gerard, his black hair looks darker than usual, the sunlight is gone, covered by moisture in the form of a cloud. The sparkle in his eyes is disappearing, and he's just taking me in again. Taking in my details. I pull my hoodie tighter around myself feeling slightly self-conscious before I reply, "No, have you?" That's a stupid question. Of course, he has, why else would he have cried earlier? He's been here before... right?

"Yeah," He replies, a gentle smile crossing his face as he looks straight up, so the buildings look smaller than they really are. I follow his gaze, and I feel slightly dizzy... but I think I like the feeling. I think I like the view. I hear a clump, making my eyes dart right back down to see the boy laying back, his hair surrounding his head as he continues to look up, a ghost of a smile still on his thin lips. I follow him and lay back, looking up at the buildings like I would stars. I smile to myself.

Gerard is strange. Gerard is... strangely perfect to me. I don't know how he makes my heart flutter, but it's like magic because it's never happened before. I kind of just... forget about my problems, and I lay in peace as I watch the gray buildings touch the cloudy sky. My fedora is on the ground now, but I don't care. It can get dirty for Gerard. It's not as important as this. I can feel something warm creep into my hand immediately making me pull my hand away in surprise. I look down only to see Gerard's hand laying empty, guilt swallows me, so I place my hand back on top of his, not wanting to hurt his feelings. He grips it with a firmly gentle grip. It's a simple holding of hands but it means so much more than he could ever know. It means I'm safe. I'm safe from Dad. I'm safe from Kevin. I'm safe from my anxiety. I'm safe from my scars. I'm safe from the world. The only thing I can think of is: How? How does he do this? I look back up, watching the buildings and we sit in silence for a while.

It's not awkward. It's a nice kind of silence. Peaceful silence.

"I've gone to this parade ever since I was a baby." He replies, his voice soft, "My father took me here to see it..." My heart drops and cracks slightly as it lands. Took? Took? Oh no. Is his dad passed away? Is that why he's sad. I hear him sniffle beside me, "I'll explain later..."

"No." The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it. I don't regret it because I want to know. No. I need to know. I feel so determined, asking, no demanding he tells me. I need to know what happened to his dad. I need to know why he's crying. It hurts, seeing him so devastated like that. I need to know what happened to his father. "Can't you tell me now?" I ask, biting my lip. My nervousness is just... gone, "Please, I don't like seeing you cry..."

His hand squeezes mine softly, I only squeeze back. The silent reply is all I need to know that I'm pushing it, so I shut up. That was stupid.

"After this... I need to take you somewhere... and then I'll tell you, okay?"

I'm hesitant to let him make me wait longer, but I realize that if I care about him, I'll give him time, "Okay."

He gives a grateful squeeze before letting out a sigh. I'm a little frustrated that he won't tell me, but I don't let it take over. He deserves his privacy. I shut my eyes, taking in the fresh air. It's been a while since I last did something like this, come outside and enjoy the fresh air... "So, what kind of music do you listen to?"

Gerard turns his head so he's looking at me and I turn mine to look right back, "I mean if you do listen to music, I listen to a lot of music and-"

"Green Day." He replies, "Green Day, The Offspring, Shinedown, maybe some Nirvana here and there, Blink-182. I really like Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, too."

My mouth drops in shock and a grin follows soon after.

"Me too! I love Green Day, and I have tons of Shinedown and The Offspring and some of The Get Up Kids songs." I smile as I speak.

"Do you have Green Day's latest album?" Gerard asks. My smile falters. No. It came out after The Incident after Dad was always a drunk. I don't have 21st Century Breakdown.

"No... I haven't had a chance to get it..." I reply, "I have all the rest of their albums, though."

Gerard sits up and reaches into his pocket to grab his phone then continues to scramble through them and begins to panic slightly, "Shit, I forgot my headphones at school..."

I take my own from my pocket and hand them over once I untangle them, "Here,"

He looks into my eyes, letting a grateful smile creep over his face, "Thanks."

He plugs them into his phone, fitting just right before he scrolls through his music. I can see Shinedown, The Offspring, Muse, The Get Up Kids, Blink-182. I smile as he gets to Green Day and opens 21st Century Breakdown. My eyes light up as I look at the list of music.

1. Song Of the Century
2. 21st Century Breakdown
3. Know Your Enemy
4. Viva La Gloria!
5. Before the Lobotomy
6. Christian's Inferno
7. Last Night On Earth

There are a lot more songs than I thought there would be and damn, I'm missing out... I'm a little sad to know that I probably will never be able to listen to all of them but I'm happy that Gerard's going to show me.

"This is my favorite." 21 Guns? Okay.

I take one earbud in my right ear while he takes one in his left ear and begins the song. I shut my eyes, letting the music take over my senses as I completely forget about everything around me, I embrace the sounds emitting from the bud, the guitar, the drums, Billie's voice, it all comes together in my ears, and it's amazing. The way the sounds just kind of take over, the way the members perform with all their strength...

We sit for a long time, listening to Green Day, showing each other our music. I'm happy. It makes me happy being with him, even if it's not in a romantic way. More and more people crowd around us but I ignore them, it's just us in our own world. Nobody else exists except Gerard and I. I don't have to question anything about this parade, I don't have to worry. Nothing can go wrong. Can it?

"Oh, dream, America, dream
I can't even sleep
From the light's early dawn," He sings into my ear, but he's being interrupted by another sound in my left ear. It's hard to make out, but as the man continues, I can hear the sounds of flutes, tubas, and drums.

"Oh, scream, America, scream
Believe what you see
From heroes and cons," Gerard pulls the earbud from my ear, the song over. He unplugs the cord from his phone before he hands it to me and puts his phone in his pocket.

"Is that them?" I ask.

Quit asking so many stupid questions.

"Yeah," He whispers, joy in his eyes. He rises to his feet, standing up straight before helping me up. God, I'm fat...

The sounds are getting closer, and I can't help but look around the corner to see the parade making its way down the street. And I'm not expecting what I see.

The first thing I see is a banner held by a woman and a man. The woman is in a white dress with rows and rows of trim down the skirt. The top is made of what looks like satin, it covers everything that should be covered and then some. On top of the silk is a thin, see through layer. It makes her skin look paler than it already is, so it's basically white. Her hair is white and short. It's impressive considering how thick it is and how young she looks. It's obviously not natural. Nonetheless, it takes my breath away as I watch her walk through the gray street. She's wearing mascara and some type of makeup that makes her face white as well. She keeps looking at the crowd of people gathered around us and waving, occasionally giving loving glances to the man next to her.

The man is the opposite. He's completely black. Black tuxedo, black pants, black dress shirt, black shoes. Everything is completely black, not a single ounce of white. It's like someone just dipped him in black paint and sent him on his way. As he passes by, I get a closer look, and he's still completely black. His hands are a dark, dark gray. It's almost black but not quite, a few shades lighter, and I can understand that. I mean, how hard would it be to make someone completely black? Extremely. His face is black, too. Did they use the same makeup that they used on the girl on the boy just a different shade? He looks straight into my green with his own dark brown eyes. Thankfully, he's not wearing black contacts. That would be a little scary. He gives me a smile, it's a friendly smile, and it makes me smile back. He waves slightly before time continues and he's waving to other people.

I look up at the banner. The writing clearly shows the words: Welcome To The Black Parade. The font makes it look handwritten but not a neat handwriting. Handwriting that someone would write in if they were angry. The 'o' in 'To' is circled around several times until it's just a clear O with a couple stray markings here and there. Under the five big, bold letters is a smaller text reading: Presented by Alexander Hamilton High School. Where is that? Is that in Summit? Or is it somewhere else?

Gerard takes my hand in mine. This time, I don't flinch. This time, I don't pull it away. This time, I embrace his warmth and squeeze slightly, so he knows that I enjoy it and appreciate it. The skin is rough and well textured, much different than mine. I'm not sure what mine feel like to another person. Are they soft? Or are they rough like Gerard's? I don't know... I hope they're alright for Gerard. I want him to be happy with me... But I know he won't. I'm too ugly and fat and awkward for him. It's just to make him look good to other people... So I'll play along if that's what Gerard wants...

Behind the boy and the girl is a row of men. All five are in head-to-toe black and white camo print. Black and white camo shirt, gloves, pants, and combat boots. On their heads are black combat helmets and in their hands are white shotguns, held up by one hand and a stiff shoulder. There are two soldiers, one on each outside column holding a frame with dozens and dozens of small pictures, showing dozens and dozens of different people. Men, women, and even children. My stomach twists slightly, are those fallen soldiers? Why would there be kids in the frames? Were they forced to fight? The row of troops is passing before I can question it further.

Behind them are five men playing trombones. The golden brass isn't golden. It's a dark gray. There are decorations of white and black leading up the instrument like arrowheads. Apart from the instrument are the players, they wear black marching band jackets, and it looks strangely familiar... I'm not quite sure where I've seen it before, but I've seen it somewhere... They wear skeleton facepaint, outlining their eyes, mouths, and noses in black while the rest is a bright white. Behind the trombone players and trombones, raised high and stiff like they should be in a marching band is a row of more brass in the same outfits with the same facepaint. I don't know what some of the instruments are, but I can tell that they're brass instruments. Tuba, a large brass instrument I don't recognize, tuba, another brass instrument I don't recognize. They have the same color as the trumpets in their shining rims, a dark, dark gray. Behind the row of larger brass is a row of five trumpeters. Raised high and blowing out of the gray instrument with determination and a loud sound.

Beside the trumpets are two horses, one on each side. They're both a snowy white with beautiful, silky fur and strong, proud hooves. They're draped with a black cloth, a black, leather saddle on top of the fabric, and atop the saddle is a girl with a black mask covering only the area around her eyes. She wears a hat that covers her hair, a little taller than my fedora and a lot straighter than it. It's dark with a black feather at the front, the tip of the feather raised above the rest of the hat. She wears a black jacket like the remainder of the marching band, but instead of pants with a long, white stripe, she has a simple black skirt. Her legs are covered in white leggings and below the leggings are black boots with heels. The fabric isn't leather, but a soft, fur-like material. I'm not sure what it's called, but it's much softer than the leather of the saddle. She turns her head to me, her green eyes looking straight into mine.

Mom's green eyes.

Mom's dead, glassy, green eyes.

She gives a devious smirk and turns her head away to look to someone else.

"Patrick,"

"Hey, Patrick,"

"Patrick!"

"Huh?" I look to my right to see Gerard holding both of my hands, a worried expression glued to his face. I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. That was close, I could have had a flashback and... Oh my god...

"Are you alright? What happened?" He asks, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand. I pull my hands away before it gets too awkward... I'm going to get a boner if he keeps doing that...

"N-nothing..." I reply, my voice just above a whisper. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, taking me by surprise as he pulls me close, his warmth pressed against me. I find myself melting into the hug. Even though I don't understand why he always tries to comfort me. Even though I don't know why he keeps trying... I accept it... I just let him hug me. And I let him touch me, and I let him comfort me. Because I appreciate it... Even if it might be fake. Even if he might be doing this just to look good. I don't care. I enjoy it... Even if it is just temporary...

"Something's wrong." He replies, pulling away, "What happened?"

"Nothing!" I snap, glaring at him. Where did that come from? He looks hurt. Shit, "S-Sorry... I just don't want to talk about it..."

He swallows but nods, his hair moving slightly as his head bobs, "I shouldn't be so nosy, sorry."

"Don't say that. It could do people good, just... not me, alright?" I say, turning back to the parade. There's a row of snare drums passing by, a design of black clock hands on the white surface, being hit with dark, black drumsticks. Gerard holds my hand again as they pass in their black and white uniforms. I don't flinch or pull away this time, only keep a firm grasp on it like if I let go, it'll never return to me again. I'll be lost in a sea of black and while paraders.

Behind the snare drums are a row of tenor drums, three different drums, three different sizes, three different colors. One is black, one is gray, and one is white. They play three different pitches as they pass but the notes remain a mystery to me.

The tenors finish moving by, making way, instead, for the two giant bass drums. I like the bass drums, I decide. They have a pitch black frame and a white center, but there are four clock hands, one pointing up, one pointing right, one pointing down, and one pointing left. There are the twelve numbers, measuring hours, minutes, seconds, all in Roman numerals that decorate the drum just like an actual clock. It looks fantastic and overall, I like it.

Behind the drums are saxophones. Soprano, tenor, alto, and two basses. All of them are a smooth black just like the brass before them. The band is going faster than it was before and before I know it, the black flutes are passing by, making way for the clarinets. Gerard squeezes my hand tightly. I turn my head to see him gazing straight into the clarinet section with tears lining his eyes.

He lets go and steps forward before his hand squeezes another.

And I immediately know where I've seen the uniform before. I saw it on a boy in a drawing Gerard once drew a few weeks ago. Now, the boy is standing in front of me. Brown hair, white glasses, the black parade uniform.

Mikey Way.