The car journey home was quiet, I was tired from the little food that I had eaten, but I knew that I wouldn't have been able to sleep. Frank would call, and would neglect to apologise for being so drunk- as per usual. I sighed thinking about it, Mikey didn't seem to hear. I was thankful for that, because I didn't want to have to talk about Frank in front of him again. He despised him, and that became more evident as the days went by.

As he pulled into our driveway, I noticed Ava sitting on the doorstep. She smiled as she saw me get out of the car, I smiled. I probably looked as though I was in a lot of pain when I did. She laughed, I stayed outside while Mikey went indoors. I sat on my doorstep, a tiny stone fence between us. I took a cigarette box from my back pocket, my lighter in the other pocket. She looked at me with hopeful eyes, I placed one between her teeth. She giggled again, her laughter quite soothing, lighting it for her.

"Why do you look your brother's told you that you're going to be put down?" She joked, blowing smoke out in front of her. I raised an eyebrow, oddly understanding the appeal of being put down. It would've ended the pain and suffering of living- but I had people to please and goals to fulfil.

"He doesn't like it when I'm around Frank. He thinks that he's "bad" for me." I said, finishing my air quotations by breathing smoke out in front of me. Ava scoffed, turning to me, crossing her legs. I heard the sound of her shoes scraping across the concrete, I shivered. She bit her lip, looking at me with eyes that were about to deliver cold, hard truths.

"I hate to tell you champ, but he is a bad influence on you. You look like a skeleton, like a little zombie boy wandering around with his big black boots and scary black coat. You need respite from him, he's leeching life from you." She said sarcastically, I cocked my head to the side with a frown. She was right, Mikey was right- I hated to say it but God was probably right. Frank was a bad person in my life, but he was a somewhat addiction. You can't forcibly wean addicts off coke in a matter of minutes, there's pain, depression and near death that comes with it. I wiped my face, staring through a gap in my fingers at a spider crawling along the floor a few centimetres in front of me.

"I know that he's bad for me, but he's my best friend. He's a constant in my life, and he seems to be the only one that likes my company. I don't know, I just- I can't function without his attention, you know? I feel like he loves me somewhat." I admitted, still staring at the spider. It was getting closer to me, like it was eyeing me up of something. I hadn't noticed that there was a silence that had fallen over the both of us. I looked at her, she was scowling at me. "What?" I asked curiously, wondering why she was so quiet.

"He is the only constant in your life, is he? He's the only one that likes your company, is he? You idiot. If I didn't like your company, would I be talking to you right now?" She asked, her arms folded like a disappointed mother.

"Sorry." I said quietly, smiling to myself. I loved it when she got mad. She was insanely beautiful when she was. She reached over the wall to hit my head, making me laugh loudly. After bringing myself to my senses, I looked at her again. She was smiling brightly, her cigarette between her teeth.

"You know that my dad will kill me if he finds it that I smoke like you, right?" She asked with a laugh, blowing smoke out to the side.

"Hey, you asked, I gave. I didn't force you. I didn't ram it into your mouth?" I said, holding my hands up in mock surrender. She shook her head, sighing, her arm resting on the little brick wall.

"Fine. But you're still a bad influence."

"Better be careful with your words, your brother might threaten asylums and Sunday visits in you." I said jokingly, she smacked me again. We put our cigarettes out in unison, her dumping her end into the palm of my hand so that her parents wouldn't find out. We stood up together, I waved with a smile, pushing open my front door.

The fag ends were burning my palms, but I told myself that the pain helped me to remain somewhat human. I felt like I was becoming a shell of myself, a monster. Cancer sticks were my main source of nutrients- mainly the nicotine. Oh glorious Nicotine. Mikey and my parents were in the lounge, watching whatever they were watching. They didn't seem to notice me as I wandered to the kitchen to ditch the burning sensation. I dropped them into the bin, making sure that they were covered with other bits of trash. My parents knew of my smoking habit, but they told me that they didn't support it. They wanted me to eat healthily and stop punishing my lungs. I shook my head, digging my stinging hands into my pockets. "Gee, honey?" My mom called from the lounge.

"What?"

"Frank called, five times. He told me to tell you to check your phone." She called, I rolled my eyes.

Jogging upstairs, listening to the wood creak, I threw myself down onto my bed. Neglecting to take my shoes off- there probably wasn't any point in doing so.

Frank had another crazy adventure for us to enjoy.
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Song Of The Chapter- The Dream Synopsis by The Last Shadow Puppets

A.N
By now everybody's forgotten about me- but that's cool. I've been inactive because I'm struggling to write my currents fics atm. I want to expand into my other fanbases, which aren't solely based in the MCR one. But- I can't do that, because people are only interested in frerard from me, as much as people tell me that they aren't...

Ah well, crisis over... I'm going to try my best to update more, and soon I might put up a book of frerard short stories- maybe you'll all enjoy that? Idk...

Don't forget to comment and vote, really helps me out 🖤