If Gerard could have seen this, perhaps he happened wanted Kat to come home anymore, but there was of course nothing he could do when it came to the matter of changing the past, and he drowned himself in reality as he stood like a statue in his hallway: eyes reddening from a lack of blinking, as he found himself utterly frozen, and completely fixated upon his parents and Kat, Kat who'd finally come home, Kat who he'd promised so many things to, Kat who'd given him an apology, Kat who he cared for so much, and Kat, who his mother had just slapped across the face.

Gerard was not alone in his shock; his father shared it, and perhaps stood there beside her, beginning to realise what kind of woman his wife was, because he sat down, kept out of it, kept her business as her business, but not this time, because although Mr Way wasn't quite sure what to make of Kat's gender and the fact that they'd practically runaway from home for the past few days, he knew that no child deserved to be hit by their own mother, no matter what they'd done.

But he couldn't find the courage to argue his case for the life of him, and neither could Gerard, not that Gerard ever spoke much to his parents anymore, and not that his mother would listen to either of them in the situation at hand, and as the the trance that had befallen them finally snapped in two, as Kat raised their hand, and slapped Mrs Way right back across her own face, and with seemingly far more force than she had exerted upon them.

Gerard's ears were ringing: it was all too loud, everything was too quick, too loud, too fucking busy, everything was too much, and he felt himself curling up against the wall and closing his eyes, blocking out the sound and opening them back when this had all started.

An hour ago, Gerard had met Kat on the beach, Kat had been armed with little more than a lacklustre apology, but Gerard had been insistent in the fact that he needed his sibling back, and Kat needed Gerard too: Gerard's approval more than anyone else's, and with a few strings of conversation and a smile from Gerard, they'd let themself be convinced, and buried the memories of Frank and Pete and the plethora of mistakes made in the past few days, as they stuck by their brother and put all their trust in perhaps the only one person who'd deserved it.

And an hour later, Gerard stood, convinced he'd failed them, and broken their trust, with the slap from his mother and the silence from him and his father, and the arguments that would linger in the house for days, and in that moment, Gerard didn't blame Kat for getting out - not one little bit, in fact, he only blamed himself for bringing them back, for being selfish enough to prioritise himself, and drag them back into a toxic situation.

Gerard threw away rational in that very moment, as the yelling grew louder, and she slapped Kat again, and his father winced this time, stepping forward, but still with nothing to say for himself, and Gerard noticed the front door: still open, and abandoned as the two had made it in with false expectations that belonged in the fantasy Gerard found himself constructing in his head: where everything was okay, and he didn't find himself out of breath and ready to step right into the ocean, without a single struggle.

He slipped out the house, of course.

He made his way to the beach, of course.

But the ocean brought little comfort in his situation, and he simply glanced upon it as his heart continued to thud away in his chest; he needed escape, he needed release, and he needed everything to stop, because even the silence was too loud, and Gerard couldn't hear his own thoughts over the sounds of the world, and perhaps he should just stop thinking altogether, but he never quite reached a conclusion before he sat down: cross legged, before the ocean, just a few centimetres away from the tide, letting the sand get into his clothes, embracing it even, because he needed this, he needed the ocean, he needed the shoreline, he needed to feel the water as he reached out, and he needed the scrap of paper and the blue pen he kept in his pocket.

He looked out upon the vast expanse of ocean and closed his eyes.

The air smelt of salt water, of the unimaginable waters beyond, and what lay in their depths, the air smelt like he belonged there, and he sat there silent, closed eyes, breathing in ocean air, and not the water he desired to fill his lungs with upon that fateful date; he needed it now, he couldn't wait, but he had to; the date felt permanent in his mind, and perhaps he only deserved the 'prize' if he made it that far, ending it now felt like cheating, almost.

But still, he put pen to paper and opened his eyes: the world around him such a dull shade of grey, illuminated only by the water, which wasn't exactly an aquamarine blue, but it was still certainly the highlight of this beach, the highlight of this town, the highlight of this world, because Gerard felt insignificant on that shoreline: a tiny speck of a person in comparison to the vast expanse of the ocean, and in that, he felt okay, with the weight off his shoulders, and onto the water, and the mess he'd made with Kat and his parents simply out of his control, and he longed to get to his feet, to step forward, and never stop, even as the water pulled over his head, and his eyes burned with the salt water, and his lungs coughed and spluttered as he struggled to hold his breath any longer.

But he was impatient, and the paper before him would be all that was left: upon his bed, perhaps, or given to Kat, just when it was all too late to stop him, just when he was another body to be fished out of a lake.

He put pen to paper, and began to write; he began to write what felt like an apology, but in reality was nothing of the sort, because try as he might, Gerard couldn't force himself to be sorry, not at all.

-

"You are such a virgin, Frank." She laughed her motherfucking head off, and of course, Frank had expected nothing less of Lindsey Ballato, who, although, wasn't an asshole, wasn't exactly the world's nicest person either, but besides all that, she was one of Frank's closest friends, and he'd spent about four minutes with her in the past week, and it was all down to the motherfucking letter: the one scrawled in blue ink, the one Frank couldn't get off his mind, no matter how hard he tried.

"I know." Frank let out a sigh: finding himself rather complacent in his virginity - he'd gotten attached to it, or something equally as ridiculous, whatever, it really wasn't his number one concern at this point in time, or well, ever. It seemed to be Lindsey's though, which Frank was just a little concerned about.

"Don't you mind?" She asked, raising her eyebrows all too casually as she got up off her bed and reached over to her iPod and skipped the song that was currently playing in the background: some obscure feminist punk band Frank didn't recognise, as it usually was with Lindsey.

Frank shrugged, crossing his legs and leaning back against Lindsey's bedroom wall; the two were sat on her bed, doing basically fuck all - just another Saturday, really. "It's not the most important thing in the world, is it?"

It was now Lindsey's turn to shrug, "depends on your perspective, doesn't it?" She shuffled closer to Frank and took a moment to laugh at him, in a friendly, oddly affectionate, and overall very Lindsey esque manner. "I, am not a virgin-"

"I know!" Frank exclaimed, descending into giggles as he glanced at Lindsey and attempted to recount her ex-boyfriends, all sixteen of them. "You're a hot girl, Lindsey, of course people want to sleep with you. I'm an emo lump who doesn't talk to anyone besides you, Ray, and Pete - I think you're the only girl I've actually made eye contact with in my whole life... besides my mum, of course, I've made eye contact with my mum... it would be kind of weird if I hadn't."

"I have this friend..." Lindsey trailed off, and Frank instantly knew where this was going, and he didn't like it one bit, because Lindsey had a lot of ideas, and they all had one thing in common: they were very bad ideas.

"No." Frank exclaimed, shaking his head firmly, "you're not setting me up to get me laid, when I lose my virginity it's going to be with someone I like and care about and not some girl in your French class or something that owes you because you gave her some gum once four years ago." It was probably also going to be a dude, because Frank was a massive fucking gaylord, but he didn't say that aloud.

"Jamia's in my Geography class, actually." And Frank thought for a good minute then that Lindsey was joking, but, of course, she wasn't.

"Jamia?" Frank shook his head as he came to terms with just how serious Lindsey was, "fuck, I don't even know who that is."

"Jamia Nestor: small, dark hair, pretty, in my geography class, really funny, like she's an asshole, but in a good way." Lindsey smiled, "come on, why not, just come and meet her, you don't even have to date her, just meet her. You can go full homo and friend zone her if you really want to, if you have one more female friend that makes you look just the tiny little bit less sad, so it's all good, I guess."

"Full homo." Frank repeated, raising his eyebrows in disgust, because fucking hell no.

"It was Ray not me." Lindsey responded instantly, leaving Frank to raise his eyebrows and stare at her in confusion, "well, me and Ray were talking, and yeah... you've never shown even the slightest interest in girls, have you, Frank? It's not like it's ridiculous to think that you might be gay."

"I'm pretty sure I'm not gay." Frank lied, and of course, did a fucking terrible job of it.

"Okay then." Lindsey sounded totally like she believed him, of course, Frank didn't believe him, but she ought to believe him anyway - it was besides the point. "Have you ever had a crush on a girl?"

"Of course I have." Frank began without even thinking.

"Who?" Lindsey raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"Jamia Nestor." He rolled his eyes, laughing it off, "like I'm gonna fucking tell you."

"Okay then." She continued, grinning to herself, and pausing for a moment, before continuing with a, "have you ever had a crush on a guy?" And Frank really should have seen that one coming.

However, it was apparent he didn't, as he practically died right then and there, because he totally wasn't thinking about the boy with the pretty face from the beach, who he'd buried in the mess of everything.

Gerard, wasn't it?

But that was by no means a proper crush because Frank had met him fro about five minutes and he didn't even know who the fuck this dude was.

"N-No..." Frank stuttered out in a very believable tone.

"What's his name?" Lindsey asked, leaning back against the wall and giggling a little, "I called it."

Frank met her with a stern gaze and a shake of his head. "No."

"I won't tell Ray: I won't tell anyone, come on, just tell me, because there's a guy isn't there. I should have... Jesus Christ, Frank, are you like fully gay or bi or what?"

Frank groaned, leaning back against the wall, "I don't have to answer that question."

Lindsey raised her eyebrows, extremely unsatisfied by his response. "Okay then, answer another one: what's his name?"

"It's not even a proper crush, I only met him once a few days ago, but he's cute... and... and... he's called Gerard. I don't know his last name, he's just Gerard and... yeah..."

"Gerard." Lindsey repeated, smiling at Frank.

"Yeah..."

"Frank and Gerard... that's kind of cute, you know?"

"Fuck off." Frank groaned, stumbling to his feet, "this isn't fair because you peer pressured the fuck out of me into telling you something I'm not even really that comfortable with myself, and that's an asshole move-"

"But at least I'm gonna shut up about your virginity and Jamia Nestor now, aren't I?" Lindsey raised her eyebrows, smiling.

"Why are we friends?" Frank shook his head and sat back down, "you're a fucking bitch, you know that right?"

"I'm very well aware."

"I should hope so."

-

"Since when did being your friend mean I'm your official dog walking buddy?" Lindsey raised her eyebrows, but let out a laugh regardless, Frank shaking his head as the two, and Daisy, Frank's dog, the very dog that was being walked, in tow, made their way down to the beach, because there was nowhere else worthwhile to go in the evening if you didn't want to get stabbed.

Frank reckoned he wasn't quite so keen on being stabbed, so there they were; Lindsey far more intrigued by the beach, as she visited it far less frequently, living further in the middle of town, and away from the shoreline, and yeah, Lindsey was an antisocial bitch who only ever went outside to smoke - there was that too.

"Since you know about me and... you know... the thing-"

"God, Frank, you're not scared of saying it, are you? You're gay, not Voldemort, come on." She laughed it off, leaving Frank to roll his eyes.

"You don't get it, just... can we talk about something else, please?" He asked, all wide eyes, as he kneeled down, no not to give Lindsey oral sex, but to take Daisy's collar off, praying that she somehow wouldn't manage to drown herself, by just running straight into the sea, in a very intelligent manner - she was an idiot, but a cute idiot, and Frank was a fucking sucker for dogs in general, nevermind cute dogs- okay all dogs were cute dogs, but, Daisy was extra cute.

"Okay," Lindsey brushed her hair from her face: strands flying free in the wind, and she resorted to tying it back and out of her face within seconds. "This wind fucking sucks," she commented, her hand going straight to her pocket: straight to the cigarettes - Frank knew her well.

The two began to walk down the beach, Daisy running along at their feet, and occasionally stopping to dig or sniff something, before running back to catch them up.

"You owe me a cigarette - you owe me like seven million cigarettes, but that's besides the point, come on," he reached his hand out towards her, leaving Lindsey to roll her eyes but pass him the packet and her lighter regardless.

"It's the last one in the packet, keep it." She added, as took a drag of her cigarette, "that shows how much I value you, Frank, fucking last cigarette, fucking you owe me a cigarette bullshit... doesn't it feel better to have it off your chest?"

"It didn't feel like it was ever really on my chest, I just... I don't know, I'm not an open person, I guess." Frank shrugged, putting the cigarette to his lips as Lindsey paused to overlook the ocean for a moment.

"It's really nice here, don't you think?" She spoke, her eyes fixated upon the ocean waves, and the mysteries that lurked below.

"Nice isn't the right word, I like it, obviously, but nice, no, that's not... calming? Maybe, I don't know, I just feel safe here, it's weird." Frank let out a sigh, shrugging his words off as he spoke them.

"Safe?" Lindsey scoffed, her tone sarcastic, "haven't you heard about the cannibal, god, Frank? You're gonna get cannibalised."

"Cannibalised." Frank repeated, his tone slow and in disbelief, "I think the word you're looking for is eaten."

"Cannibalised - it means eaten, eaten by a cannibal... cannibalised." She continued, laughing a little as she did so, "god, Frank, it's like you're stupid or something."

"I think I am stupid." Frank admitted, sitting down on the sands, Lindsey copying his actions after a moment or so.

"You're not stupid." She said, like it was obvious, with a hand on his knee in comfort. "Just special." She continued, giggling.

"Fuck off." Frank let out a sigh, "like, I just can't get anything, and there's something important and I just can't figure it out for the life of me... or perhaps the life of someone else, I just... I... I don't even know if I can tell you, I mean I'm not supposed to know, but it's kinda why I've been so awkward this past week: I'm just thinking, constantly thinking, and it feels like there's no end, and no answer."

"What are you talking about?" She exclaimed, her eyes narrowing a little in confusion.

"I found someone's suicide note on Monday." Frank began, preparing himself for every single possible terrible reaction as he did so. "Says they're gonna kill themself on November 1st, but I have no idea who wrote it or how to stop."

"Frank, come on, that fucking sucks, I know, but you don't have to be the hero, you don't have to do anything: it's out of your control, and you shouldn't ruin your life over it - they probably have friends and family to go to, and not just some dude who found something he shouldn't have."

"What if they don't?" Frank piped up, his gaze distant: off down the beach, coming to notice that Daisy hadn't followed them for a good few metres.

"Then, although sad, it's still not your fault, not your business even. If you don't even know them, there's just nothing you can do-" Lindsey was cut off by Daisy's barking, and Frank was immediately at his feet: a reflex of sorts, and even jogging down the beach to reach her, and the scrap of paper she'd gotten so worked up over: half washed away blue ink in the tide.

"Fuck." Frank cursed aloud, his eyes widening in disbelief as he put his cigarette between his lips and reached down for what he was praying both was and wasn't what he thought it was.

"What is it?" Lindsey's voice came into earshot as she appeared behind him, significantly less worked up than he was, but still interested enough by the letter in Frank's hands.

"It's another letter."

"From the same person?" Frank nodded. "How do you know?"

"Handwriting, same pen, same paper, same way with words, same thoughts."

'Everything's my fault now, and I'm sorry, I really am, in fact I couldn't be anymore sorry. I think I'll always be sorry, but maybe you'll just have to accept that I will be sorry at the bottom of a lake come November 1st, because I'm sorry, but that's how it's going to be - that's how it has to be. I'm gonna miss you, no one else though, you matter most, always have, always will.

I can't even get my thoughts out properly: I hate this, I'm sorry. I want to end it all now, but I have to wait, I know that, even I know that. I don't deserve it yet, as weird as that sounds, but you should be used to it, everything I say sounds weird. I am weird. You know that, of course. I shouldn't have made you-'

And no more: a sentence never finished, a note dropped to the floor, blurred by the ocean, and an unknown identity behind it all.

-

hey pals!!!! how are you all, sup and stuff???? ayy im okay!!! u know what would make me like extra hella okay like ayyy okayyy... i dont even know what im saying anymore or where i was going just please vote and comment on this chapter it would make me happy. i love u all hella hella swella!!!