Frank P.O.V

The whole situation was a blur- not that it wasn't incredibly memorable. It was noble, and I wanted to thank him. He had hold of the sleeve of my jacket, and was leading me away from Max- who was still lying on the floor in complete shock. How dare he stand up to me, was definitely what was going on in his head.

He watched me tentatively throughout the day; I was planning my non-spectacular thanks to him. I had no idea of what I could do, but I guessed that a simple 'Thanks' would be just fine.
However, we had hardly spoken during the rest of the day, and as my opportunity neared, I grew anxious. Anxiety was creeping up on me, distorting my words and my self-esteem too.  We were sat outside on a wall, him swinging his legs, his black boots tapping against the brick.

"I just wanted to say thanks, mostly for sticking up for me, but secondly for tolerating me." I said nervously, my black-painted nails finding themselves in my mouth again.

"No problem, nobody deserves to be treated that way." He said simply, tapping his pale hands against his legs.
"Wait, what are you talking about 'tolerating', don't be stupid." He laughed, realising the stupidity of my last statement. Awkwardly smiling, I looked down at my shoes.

"Gee, come on I'm hungry!" His brother called. Gerard looked away from me, snapping his head towards his brother. He frowned, sliding off the wall, landing with a soft thud. He shot him a look to grudgingly say that he was coming, then glanced back up at me.

"I'll see you later, then." He said slowly, walking towards his slyly-grinning brother. Gerard punched him playfully in the shoulder, slumping into the drivers seat.
As the car peeled out of the parking lot, I put my head in my hands.

I jumped from the wall, a sharp pain jarred up my legs. I groaned, staggering for about a metre before I could walk normally again.

As I grew nearer to my front door, I saw that my mother's car was parked in the driveway. Odd, she usually didn't get back until late- allowing me to sneak out and get so drunk that I'd forget who I was. I frowned, twisting the door handle, spying my mother sat on the sofa. A plate in her hand.

"Frankie, baby, I thought that I'd come home early. So that we can spend some time together." She smiled falsely, patting the empty spot on the couch next to her. I looked her up and down. She was wearing a provocative, baby-blue blouse, teamed with a denim skirt. I turned up my nose.

"Is your dearly beloved not gonna be home in time?" I asked sarcastically, my bag dropping to the floor as I finished my sentence.

"No, he won't be home for another hour. Let's just watch a movie or something, have fun. Like we used to." She smiled again, still patting the empty space in the exact same way.

"We never have fun. We never did. I'm going to my room." I said. My words came out a lot more vicious than I had intended, but she did deserve it. She never would accept me for who I was, however much she pretended, and how excellently she did so.
She sighed, admitting defeat, switching the TV on with the remote. I scooped my bag into my arms, jogging up the stairs. By the time I had gotten to the top, I was out of breath and feeling a little lethargic.
I threw my bag back to its home on the floor, drinking from a lukewarm bottle of Coke. It was flat, and the sugar made my teeth stick together.
                                      ~>•<~

Once again, I found myself staggering down a deserted street, giggling away to myself. The mixture of the weed and the beer was a good idea at first, but I knew that I would regret it soon afterwards. I had told myself that I would go for a walk, seeing as my mother was now busy with my dear stepfather. Doing whatever it is that middle-aged men and women do these days.

As I walked, in my mind I thought that I had seen Gerard, staring at me disapprovingly. But as I would look back, he would disappear. I chuckled to myself, knowing that he would never love me like this. He would never love me anyway, even my own mother didn't.
My vision blurred, and I felt incredibly nauseous. I stopped in my tracks, holding onto a lamppost. I retched; I hadn't eaten anything, so I didn't throw up. A cold hand was placed on my back, whoever it was hauled me back to an upright position.

"Frank, please stop. It makes me sad to see you like this, this is not being happy." It was a man's voice, and it certainly wasn't my mother or stepfather. My vision finally 'got its shit together', allowing me to see them. Gerard. He had a pained look in his eyes.

"I'm not happy. This is me portraying it." I slurred, trying not to fall over onto the floor, or more importantly onto him.

"Then we can talk about it. I know that I can help." He was frowning. A look that didn't suit his face well, yet it suited me.

"Nobody cares!" I shouted. Gerard sighed, knowing that it was useless trying to talk to me when I was like that. He placed an arm under mine, dragging me down the street. I didn't protest, I had forgotten how to do so.
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Song Of The Chapter- Air Catcher by Twenty One Pilots

A.N
I had a panic attack this morning and I didn't go to school. So here I am, writing stories to yet again vent my woeful life XD ah well, at least everyone's enjoying the story, because I enjoy writing it (: