Gerard P.O.V

Weekends were probably the worst for me. I never had anything to do- working was my only hobby. I hadn't picked up a guitar in years, I hadn't written much in that time either. My passion for writing for the masses was slowly dwindling; probably due to my equally dwindling mental state. It was early on a Saturday morning, so there certainly wasn't anything for me to do. Maybe I could've tackled a story idea, but laziness was my most prominent quality.

I rolled out of bed after listening to my thoughts, and the occasional passing conversation that floated into my room. I liked to eavesdrop into conversations that didn't belong to me; somehow they were a source of inspiration for me. I could tell a lot about that person from the way that they spoke, and it would instantly generate a character for me to instantly forget about.
But one caught my attention. They were humming to themselves, or singing. I couldn't make it out that clearly. Wandering over to the window, I pushed aside the old curtains, the bright morning light causing me to squint.

There was a guy, running a hand through his messy brown hair. His shabby clothing gave an edge to him; an attractive edge. There was a guitar strapped to his back, his other hand fiddling around in his pockets for the keys to a beaten-up car. I hadn't seen him before, I could've sworn that I had heard him singing somewhere in the motel. His voice was enticing, but he probably wouldn't want anything to do with me. In times like this, if anybody knew about my secret, nobody would want to to know me. Even my own parents, and Mikey.

Mikey. I wanted to visit everybody. It was something to do, and I would give some more money to my parents. They weren't getting any younger, even though my dad still had his obsession with that dumb garage and his rusty cars. He had collected so many over the years that our front yard was practically a graveyard for them. I had to give him credit though, he had managed to fix my Chevy Impala up so that it looked brand new. He was a good man.

After a short while of making myself look remotely presentable- mostly for my mom, I adjusted my tie, and grabbed my coat. I loved wearing suits. They made me feel important, and somewhat wealthy. My mom would smile as soon as she saw one of my grey suits, I looked like a stranger. Mikey and my dad would be covered in dirt from head to toe, whereas I would be completely immaculate with a crisp grey suit and fancy tie.
It didn't take me long to drive home, the route was familiar and the smell of pine as I drove past the forests brought back a sense of nostalgia. I smiled, watching the blissful memories appear fresh in my mind- as if they happened only seconds ago.

My hometown appeared, rundown and peeling as always. The population sign freshly painted as if it was trying is hardest to look appealing to me as I passed trough. Familiar faces from my childhood appeared, old friends and even older neighbours. They seemed to fall into the rut that the town forced them into. Mechanics, grocers, dressmakers- everybody that I went to high school with I saw. They hadn't done much with their lives- but they had families, children and husbands and wives. Not me. I was lonely and bored, with tonnes of money that I didn't know what to do with.
I sighed, my car pulling up against the curb. I could see Mikey, a wrench in his hand. My dad was wandering around with miscellaneous car parts in his old hands.

He recognised the way that the car door closed, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw me. He smiled brightly, his gentle weathered face curling with it. I heard him chuckle as I wandered over, taking care to avoid the many puddles of oil on the ground.

"Gerard, I wondered when you'd be making an appearance," He chuckled, throwing his arms around me. He was a little shorter than me, and his worn clothes smelled of car oil. I smiled, happy to see him, "is that a new suit?" He asked, admiring the pristine grey suit that I had forgotten that I was wearing.

"Uhuh." I said, looking around for Mikey. He was probably hiding from me, silently judging me for not wanting to join him and our dad in the garage.

"Where's Mikey?" I asked eagerly, even though he was bound to be moody, I wanted to see his dorky face.

"Oh, he'll be in the back. I got him to grab me some stuff." He shrugged, leading me into the back. The smell of paint and oil was somewhat appealing, and a little part of me punished myself for not wanting to stay and work here. I could've had a normal life, found a wife and pushed my sexuality aside. There was still hope, but I couldn't allow myself to be so unhappy. To be so secretive about the way that I was. If only the world could understand- well, America. Everywhere else was relatively free, which gave me the thought to move away. Far, far away. I couldn't do that, I had to support my family.
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Song Of The Chapter- Breathe Out by Son Lux

A.N
I suck at updating my God -_- lemme know what you think?? Don't forget to comment and vote my noodles.