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You know I love you, but you might be the death of me

 

 

Rating: 18+ (This rating might be too severe but my characters are sexy boys who do sexy things and have potty mouths, so I figured better safe than sorry.)

 

Characters: Ferard, Mikey, Bob, Ray

 

Summary: Frank doesn't act like a girl. Gerard doesn't cut himself. Mikey isn't a withdrawn bookworm. There will be sex but I'm going to tease you and make you wait for it.

 

Genre: Drama/Romance

 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the guys from MCR because slavery is illegal in this corner of the world. This story is comprised of complete and utter lies. Enjoy.

 

Ps, I stole the title from Innerpartysystem's song New Poetry.

 

 

Chap. 1

 

 

Frank's pov.

 

It was only ten minutes into my first class of the day and I was already zoning out. From the first day of the school year, I knew that picking a seat on the far side of the classroom, right next to the window was going to end up being a problem for me. It was already hard enough to concentrate on math at 7:45 in the morning; the view out the window was only giving me more reasons to ignore my boring-ass teacher. Seriously, whose brilliant idea was it to have math first thing in the morning? Oh well, things could be worse. At least I wasn’t still in St. Thomas, that lame catholic school.

 

I’ll never forget how pissed off my mom was when I called her from the principal’s office to tell her I was being expelled and she needed to come pick me up. I still don’t understand what she was thinking enrolling me there for my freshmen year of high school. All right, that’s a lie; I do know why she did it. We had just moved from Newark to Belleville and even though it wasn’t that far of a move, my mom decided it was far enough for me to go to a new school. She thought the catholic school environment would help me stay on the “right track” during my formative teenage years. It’s not like I’d really been a problem child before. Granted, I liked to have fun, and may have taken a couple of my pranks a little too far, but my mom knew I just had a good sense of humor and never meant any harm.

 

Things changed when I got to St. Thomas though. I hated it. I could deal with the stupid uniforms, the ridiculous rules about physical contact between males and females, and even the fact that I had to cut my almost-shoulder-length hair. What I couldn’t deal with was the intolerance. The kids, their parents, and even the faculty there all had this holier-than-thou attitude, especially when they found out I wasn’t catholic, or anything really. Sure, I thought there was some sort of spiritual being out there, but no one knows what its name is, what color it is, or how it likes to be worshiped. So what the hell is the point in wasting time arguing about that shit? Live and let live, that’s my religion. Needless to say, my beliefs didn’t make me too popular and the whole fiasco that is my sexuality apparently didn’t help either.



 

I’m bi, oh the horror, I know. I figured out I liked girls and boys when I was about ten years old. First thing I did was tell my mom, who was completely cool with it. I’m not one of those kids that has some horrible coming out story about getting kicked out onto the streets or spending their time getting beaten up by my intolerant parents while counting down the days until their eighteenth birthday. My mom just acted as if I’d told her that I liked Coke better than Pepsi, or in my case, I guess it would be that I like them both equally. I’ve brought girlfriends and boyfriends home to meet her before and she’s never had a problem with it as long as my bedroom door stays open. She’s always been pretty awesome.

 

I guess that’s why it was such a shock when the kids at St. Thomas started calling me names and harassing me. I’d always been very open about being bi. If people asked me questions about my sexuality I’d answer them honestly, I had nothing to hide. I guess those poor kids weren’t prepared for someone like me. After they found out, they seemed to think I should walk around with my head down asking everyone for forgiveness for my horrible sins. I told them they could bite me and kept my head up. Some of them avoided me like the plague, apparently, they thought they might catch gay germs from me, but a lot of them enjoyed harassing me about it. I’d hear snide comments as I walked through the halls or whispered insults from the kids sitting near me in class. It took about a week of this for me to decide that I’d had enough.

 

Soon my plan of action became fighting everyone who talked shit to me. I figured the worst-case scenario would be me getting kicked out, although I really felt like that would be much better than spending the next four years of my life with these assholes. It became an almost daily ritual for me, get into a fight, be dragged into the principal’s office to be reprimanded, then hauled off to the nurses office to bandage my bloody knuckles and clean up the occasional busted lip.

 

I lasted four long months in that hell hole before finally being expelled after getting into a fight with Trevor, the star of the lacrosse team. He was a senior, almost twice my weight, and towered a good eight inches over my slight, 5’6” frame. Our size and age difference didn’t do anything to stop him from constantly harassing me though. He would slam into me in the hallways, knocking me to the ground, and walk off laughing. He loved coming up behind me in the lunch line and flipping my tray full of food out of my hands. However, I think his favorite activity was shoving me into lockers. He would always say it was cause I was “locker sized” so he had to do it. Fucking asshole. He was always surrounded by his cronies and as much as I wanted to beat him senseless, they would never let me.

 

I finally got my chance one afternoon when I got a hall pass in the middle of science so I could use the bathroom. I was walking down the deserted hallway when I was abruptly slammed into the wall. Trevor stood there laughing at me. “Fucking fairy faggot” he spit as he turned to walk off. It took about two seconds for it to sink in that he was alone. It was finally my chance. I didn’t know where his entourage was and I didn’t care. This was the opportunity I’d been waiting for and I was taking it. I rushed him and dove at his legs, catching him behind the knees and causing us both to smash into the unforgiving wood floor. I quickly straddled his waist as he flipped over so he was on his back staring at me with unbelieving eyes. I took one second to complement him on the alliteration of the insults he’d hurled at me, then I started smashing my fists into his face.

 

He finally managed to throw me off him, but only after I’d gotten a good six or seven punches in. Blood was streaming out of his nose which I was sure I’d broken and he was holding his side where I’d hit him a couple times for good measure. He scrambled backwards trying to get to his feet while he stared at me as if I was a madman. Come to think of it, I probably looked like one. I was so furious; I could tell I had an evil grin on my face. My hands and shirt were covered in his blood and for some reason that made me very happy. He finally got up and started running for the stairs that headed down to the principal’s office, probably planning to tell on me. I couldn’t believe he was actually running from me! This kid could have killed me if he wanted to just because of how much bigger he was. I didn’t get to enjoy the sight of him running away for long though. As soon as he reached to stairs, he tripped and went tumbling down with a girlish shriek.

 

Long story short, I ended up in the principal’s office being yelled at about how I’d disrupted this school for the last time and Trevor ended up in the emergency room with a seriously fucked up nose and a broken leg. My mom was pissed as hell at me for getting expelled but the only punishment I got was having my Xbox taken away for a week. She would never tell me she was proud of me for fighting but I think that secretly she was happy I’d stood up for myself. After that, I was enrolled in Belleville High, the local public school. As much as it sucked starting in the middle of my freshmen year, I was just happy to be done with private schools.

 

I was abruptly ripped out of my trip down memory lane when the door to the classroom opened and a tall, skinny, bespectacled kid walked in and looked around at us shyly. He quickly handed a note to the teacher who introduced him to the class as Michael Way then directed him to take the seat behind mine.

Chap. 2

Enjoy <3

 

Mikey’s pov

 

 

I looked down at my shoes as I found my way to the seat the teacher had indicated. That douche had called me Michael. Yeah it was technically my name, but no one actually called me that except my parents when they were really pissed at me. That basically never happened though so yeah, I’m Mikey. Mikey fuckin’ Way, not Michael.

 

I took my seat and tried to look around the room without attracting attention. I wanted to scope out the kids I was going to be spending every day with for the rest of the school year. I was hoping to figure out who was going to be a problem, who didn’t matter, and who might possibly be cool and maybe even a little sane. Everyone had stopped staring at me and had gone back to paying attention to the teacher, or staring out the window as was the case with the kid in front of me. I studied him for a minute; he didn’t look that big. Of course he was sitting down so it was kinda hard to tell but he looked like he was short and sorta skinny. Not like bones sticking out skinny, just normal skinny. He was wearing tight black jeans, a Black Flag tee I had noticed when I walked by, and Chucks, the normal punk kid uniform. Not that I could talk, I was wearing basically the same thing. I wonder if he gets shit from the teachers about his hair. It has a strip of longer, dark brown hair running down the middle, like a sleeping Mohawk, and it’s pretty freakin red on the sides. The dress code definitely says no unnatural hair colors are tolerated and that is not a red that naturally occurs on anyone’s head. Yeah I’m the kid who actually reads the dress code. Not that I really care about following it, I just enjoy knowing when I’m breaking it.

 

The kid turns his head and I can see a tattoo on his neck, it looks like a scorpion. I barely get a second to look at it before he reaches his hands over his head and leans back in his chair stretching. He leans so far back he almost smacks me in my fuckin face. It’s then that I notice he has his knuckles tatted too. I couldn’t see what they spelled out but I was kinda surprised. He’s in my grade, so assuming we’re the same age, he’s only seventeen. Definitely not old enough to stroll into a tattoo studio and get some ink. Of course, he could’ve just had some friend do them in his living room for $30, but the art actually looked pretty decent so I doubted that.

 

I spent the rest of the class period trying to listen to the teacher and take notes but I wasn’t very successful. Math is boring as shit to me and I already knew the stuff we were going over. I remembered it from helping my brother study it last year when he was a Junior. He kicks my ass when it comes to English or anything artistic really. But he's an epic failure at math. I'm pretty good at it though so I try to help him when I can.

 

When the bell finally rang, I felt like it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I didn’t even get a chance to start gathering up my books before the kid in front of me turned around in his seat and leveled his gaze on me. It only took me a split second to notice that he had his lip and nose pierced before I tensed up, wondering if there was going to be a problem. The kid was definitely smaller than me but he looked scrappy, like he could do some damage if he really wanted to. I realize though that there was no trace of malice or aggression in his eyes, just boredom, and maybe a little curiosity. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he broke the silence.

 

“I’m Frank” he said.

 

“Hey, I’m Mikey.”

 

“Not ‘Michael’?” he asked.

 

“Fuck no, just Mikey.”

 

He stared at me for a couple more seconds before a smile crept across his face.

“Cool,” he said. “So what class do you have next?”

 

“Uhhh” I fished my class schedule out of my jeans pocked and studied it. “Biology with Gibbons.”

 

Frank started laughing, “Sucks to be you man. Gibbons is a total prick.”

 

“Fuckin’ awesome” I said sarcastically as I shoved my books into my backpack and stuck my schedule back in my pocket.

 

Frank stood up, “Do you know how to get to Bio?”

 

“Not really” I responded.

 

“Well I’ve got Chemistry next and it’s right across the hall from your class so I’ll walk with you. Can’t have the fresh meat getting lost” he chuckled.

 

I swung my backpack over my shoulder and smirked. I wasn’t quite sure yet if this kid was gonna be cool or turn out to be a surprise douche, but I figured I’d find out either way soon enough.

 

Chap. 3

 

 

Frank’s pov

 

 

We talked about music while we walked to our next classes. Turned out we liked a lot of the same bands: Misfits, Iron Maiden, Black Flag, etc. We had lunch at the same time then the same history class after so I told him I’d meet him in the cafeteria in a couple hours. We parted ways and headed to our respective science classes, both prepared to be bored as shit.

 

In chemistry, we were supposed to do some stupid experiment that required pairing up with someone. The teacher stuck me with a preppy “popular” chick; I think her name was Ashley. I’d worked with her before and she was an annoying bitch, one of those people who seemed to think everyone should be grateful just to be in her presence. Of course, she had no intention of helping with anything so I ended up mixing the different chemicals by myself while trying to avoid blowing anything up or causing some chemical reaction that would kill us all. I followed the directions without really thinking about what I was doing, I just let my mind wander. I’d kind of taken myself by surprise when I introduced myself to Mikey. I’m not at all shy but I’m not super outgoing either. I’m not one of those people who feel like they have to make friends with everyone near them. I have friends and they’re awesome, I don’t need a million more. Whatever though, Mikey struck me as someone who might be cool and I remembered how much it sucked starting a new school half way through the year when everyone else already knew each other and had friends. I figured going to a new school for your junior year had to be just as bad. Anyway, he seemed like a decent dude and he was into the same music as me, which was awesome. Especially in a school full of people who think that Katy Perry and Justin Bieber are gods.

 

Lunchtime finally rolled around and I met my best friends, Ray and Bob, in the hallway outside the cafeteria. I told them we were eating with a new kid and we went into the packed cafeteria to find Mikey. We spotted him pretty fast; after the necessary introductions we all got in line to get some food.

 

“What exactly is that?” I asked the lunch lady behind the counter. She already looked pretty pissed and my question probably wasn’t going to help with that but too bad. Seriously, the food they were serving today looked even worse than usual and I had no idea what the goopy, grayish stuff was.

 

“Tuna casserole” she snarled.

 

Fuck that” I replied and kept moving down the line. “Even if I wasn’t a vegetarian I still wouldn’t eat that shit.”

 

She shot me a death glare and Bob started laughing. “Dude I’d get the fuck out of here if I was you. I think she’s gonna jump the counter and beat you with that spoon.”

 

“For real. Someone has their hair net on too tight today.” Mikey laughed.

 

Finally, we all ended up with something edible and headed outside to eat at our normal spot, some tables under a couple trees behind the school.

 

“I’m gonna text Gerard and see if he wants to eat with us.” Mikey said.

 

“Who’s Gerard?” Ray asked.

 

“My brother.” Mikey answered.

 

After finding out they were both seniors, Ray started trying to figure out if he had Gerard in any of his classes. After a couple minutes, I saw a kid I’d never noticed before walking out of the school. He was wearing black skinny jeans, a black hoodie with the Smashing Pumpkins logo on it, and old school Vans. He was pretty slim with really pale skin and black hair that brushed the top of his shoulders. He was cute, definitely a one on the binary scale. I wondered if that was Gerard. He was headed straight for us so I figured I would find out soon enough. Finally, Mikey saw the kid and called to him. Gerard, reached our table and we went through another round of introductions. I noticed he had some eyeliner smudged around his eyes, finally, I wasn’t the only dude at this school who appreciated some good kohl products. He sat down next to Mikey, across from Bob, and took a notebook out of his messenger bag. He started drawing something while the rest of us continued the friendly argument we’d been having about the best childhood cartoon (which was obviously Transformers). Gerard didn’t really talk much, he just kept drawing and occasionally took sips from the water bottle he’d brought with him. He didn’t have anything to eat but he told Mikey he wasn’t hungry when his brother offered to share the sandwich he had.

 

By the time lunch was over, I’d decided Gerard seemed nice enough but he was definitely...weird. I got the feeling he had spent a lot of his high school career getting beaten up and made fun of. His response to that appeared to be trying to be invisible. When we all finally headed off to our next classes, he walked down the hall with his shoulders hunched up, almost as if he was trying to hide inside his hoodie. I felt kind of bad for him, I had been there and done that and it doesn’t work. A lot of the time it actually seems to draw more unwanted attention. But what did I know? I’d just met the kid today and only said like two words to him. For all I knew there could be a completely different reason for his demeanor. Whatever, it’s not like I was going to ask him.

 

The rest of the week went pretty much the same. Mikey and I would spend most of our math class bitching about how early it was and how bored we were, we’d eat lunch with Bob and Ray with Gerard sometimes joining us with sketch pad and water bottle in hand. A couple times he didn’t show up but Mikey just shrugged it off without offering an excuse for his brother. Friday rolled around and Mikey invited us to come over after school to play video games. His parents were going to be working late and had left money for pizza. All I needed to know was that pizza and video games were involved and I was in. Ray gave guitar lessons on Friday afternoons so he couldn’t come but Bob said he could hang out for a couple hours. Bob and I lived near enough to walk to school so we all met in the parking lot after the final bell rang and piled into Gerard’s late 90’s Honda Accord. We headed for a more upscale part of Belleville and arrived at a huge, two story, colonial style house after about twenty minutes.

 

“Sweet house, you guys must be loaded!” Bob exclaimed as he hopped out of the car.

 

Gerard snickered as I smacked Bob on the back of his head. “Damn dude, you really don’t understand the meaning of subtlety do you?”

 

“It’s ok,” Mikey said while laughing, “both our parents are lawyers so we do ok I guess.”

 

“Better than ok, if you ask me,” Bob snorted.

 

Gerard unlocked the door and we walked inside. “The trade off is that our parents are basically married to their work.”

 

“Yeah,” Mikey chimed in, “we’re talking eighty hour work weeks. We’ve pretty much raised ourselves.”

 

“Maybe that’s why we’re so fucked up” Gerard laughed.

 

Bob and I followed Mikey into the kitchen while Gerard disappeared into the living room. We heard a door open and close then music coming from the basement a few minutes later.

 

“He’s probably gonna be locked in his lair for the rest of the night.” Mikey said as he picked up the phone to order the pizza.

 

“What does he do down there all day?” I asked, suddenly curious about what kept the quiet boy occupied for hours on end.

 

“Fuck if I know.” Mikey said. “I think he draws and writes and shit. I don’t go down there all that often. He’s pretty private about his room.”

 

“No offense, but your brother’s a weird kid.” Bob said as he wandered into the living room to set up the Xbox.

 

Mikey and I laughed but in the back of my head, I wondered what Gerard was up to down there and why he was apparently so secretive about his room. They say curiosity killed the cat.

 

Chap. 4.

It's a long one <3

 

 

Gerard's pov.

 

The chaos of my room brought me immediate comfort. It was dark and messy, which my mom hated. When I first decided to move all my shit down here and convert the empty basement into my bedroom, she had bitched about how there was only one tiny window and said that someone couldn’t live in such a dark room. She was dead wrong. I love the dark atmosphere. It perfectly suits the type of activities that go on down here, not all of which are completely legal. Speaking of which, where the fuck is my weed? I always keep my stash in the bottom drawer of my nightstand. The top drawer is reserved for condoms, lube, and some soft silk ties. (Mikey was horrified when he opened it one day while looking for cigarettes.) I might be a loser at school but I definitely get ass. Sometimes it’s random guys I meet at parties, sometimes it’s a kid from school who is just “curious” and doesn’t have the balls to tell his girlfriend he wants to get fucked in the ass. That’s where I come in, giving him a taste of the forbidden and the time of his life, then sending him back to his unsuspecting girlfriend.

 

I remember one time at the school Mikey and I went to before Belleville High, Alex, one of the star football players cornered me in the parking lot before I could make it to my car. It was so funny watching him stammer and stare at his hands while telling me he had a problem and wanted to come over to my house to talk to me about it. I was reluctant to agree but I finally did. I figured that whatever he wanted had to be really important for him to even talk to me, much less look like he was going to die of embarrassment while doing it.

 

Alex came over later that afternoon. I wasn’t sure what he wanted but I had a pretty good idea. Everyone one at school knew I was gay and because I was a loner and didn’t really have friends, guys seemed to think I was the person to go to for this shit. I guess they figured that because I didn’t have friends and I never really talked to anyone, I wouldn’t tell people about the things they asked me to do with them. My parents were still at work when Alex got there but Mikey was home. The look on his face when he saw me taking Alex into my bedroom was priceless.

 

He gave me his sob story about how he’d had these feeling as long as he could remember but there was no way he could be gay. He just couldn’t. He had been with Kellie for two years, he was going to play football in college next year, there was just no way he could be gay. It was as if he thought it would be the end of the world if he was. He said he just wanted to be “normal.” I asked what exactly he wanted me to do about all of this. He looked at the floor as he mumbled that he wanted to have sex with me. He thought that if he could just do it once he could get it out of his system and everything would be fine. I’d stared at him for a minute, trying to decided what to do. It wasn’t like it would be the first time I’d done something like this. I was totally cool with the no strings attached sex, but Alex wasn’t really my type. He was about 6’0”, a little taller than me, with blonde hair, brown eyes, and a tan. He wore Ralph Lauren polo’s and fucking boat shoes. Definitely not my type.

 

I agreed, I’m a horny eighteen year old after all and this guy was basically begging for it. I told him I’d do it but I made sure he knew I was a top. He said he was cool with that and that he wanted me to dominate him. He asked for it hard and fast and that’s what I gave him.

 

As soon as we finished, I started getting dressed. I had just gotten my pants on when I felt a blinding a pain in the back of my head and stumbled forward, tripping on my shirt and landing on my knees hard. Alex grabbed me by my hair and dragged me back up. Everything was swimming in front of me and I just stood there shocked when he let go of me. I fully expected Alex to ignore me at school after today. “Straight” guys never want to be friends with the gay boys who help them work out their homo kinks and that was cool with me. I would never normally associate with someone like Alex anyway and I expected him to feel the same way. What I hadn’t expected was the fucking beat down I was about to get.

 

He hit me square on the cheek so hard everything went black for a second. Next thing I knew, I was on my back with an angry quarterback straddling me, raining punches down on my face, chest, arms, anywhere he could reach. He kept calling me a faggot, saying I was disgusting and deserved to die. He finally stopped to catch his breath; chest heaving, he stared down at me with furious eyes. I turned my head to the side and spit out a mouthful of blood on the beige carpet. I gave him a smoldering look, I knew I should keep my mouth shut but I couldn’t.

 

“You’re one to talk,” I slurred. He’d hit me in the jaw so many times that it was hard to get the words out. “I seem to remember being balls deep in your ass a few minutes ago. If you ask me, that makes you the faggot.”

 

As soon as the words fell from my lips, I knew I was really in trouble. He started hitting me so hard I though his fist was going to smash through my face and right into my brain. I couldn’t get the breath to scream or call for help. Even if I’d been able to I wouldn’t have. All I could think was that I hoped Mikey wouldn’t come in here. I was terrified of what Alex might do to him if he tried to intervene. He finally stood up, for a second I thought he was done, until he started kicking me. Each time his foot connected with my stomach and legs, I thought the blinding pain would cause me to slip into blissful oblivion but it never happened. I was awake the entire time for the beating of my life. After what seemed like hours, he finally stopped. He leaned down and got right in my face. Even though he was so close, I could hardly see him because of all the blood in my eyes.

 

“I'm letting you off easy. If anyone at school hears about what happened today, I’ll come back here and finish the job.” He spat before standing up and walking out the door.

 

It wasn’t until he left that the unconsciousness I’d been praying for came over me. I don’t know how long it was until Mikey found me, but I opened my eyes to see him kneeling over me crying and screaming at me to wake up. He told me later that he’d been in his room with his music up and never heard anything. He felt so guilty. I told him over and over that it wasn’t his fault but I don’t know if he ever believed me. He’s still weird about it if I bring someone home that he doesn’t know.

 

Suddenly I remember what I was doing: looking for my weed! I finally found it in the pocket of my Misfits hoodie. I forgot I’d been wearing that when I met up with Bryan for our little business transaction the other day. I quickly rolled myself a joint. I couldn’t wait to smoke it; Bryan had said this was some good shit.

 

I lit the joint and put it to my lips and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in my lungs for what seemed like forever before I let it drift lazily out of my mouth. Bryan was right, goooood shit. I sat on the floor leaning back against by bed, already feeling a calming sensation over taking me. There was only one thing that could make this better. I reached under my bed, pushing random shit the side until I felt my fingers close around the cool glass of the bottle I was looking for. I pulled it from its hiding spot and leaned back against the bed again and I unscrewed the top off the bottle. I took another big drag and quickly brought the bottle to my mouth, letting the smoke and vodka burn a path down my throat together.

 

I let my head fall back, resting on the edge of the mattress, and let my mind drift over the past week. Mikey seemed to like our new school. He had told me he wasn’t going to bother trying to make friends this time. We seemed to hop from school to school so often that there was no point in putting down roots. I knew that was my fault. I’m the reason we keep switching schools. I always start shit with the teachers and deserve to get the shit beat out of me on a regular basis. Oh yes, I just beg for it by flaunting my sexuality and being an asshole in general. At least that’s what my mom says. Apparently the mere fact that I’m gay and don’t see a reason to hide it means that I want all the abuse I get. My mom is fucking stupid.

 

I feel guilty every time Mikey leaves the friends he’s made, girls he likes, and activities he’s become involved in, just because I fucked up again and got expelled or pulled out of school as a preventative measure. He doesn’t have to switch schools every time I do but he chooses to. He’s fiercely loyal and always has my back when anyone gives me shit. He’s a great kid. I knew he would make friends fast at this school, he always does, even when he tries not to. I mean, it’s only the end of our first week at Belleville High and he’s already hanging out and eating lunch every day with Frank, Ray, and Bob. They all seem like cool guys and Frankie’s a hottie. He’s definitely my type too, short, slim, a total punk rock kid. If I close my eyes, I can see myself running my hands over his body, undressing him, and staring into those gorgeous hazel eyes. I can see myself bending him over the arm of the sofa he was probably sitting on upstairs right now and slamming into him over and over. I can imagine exactly how he would feel and how hot it would be to hear him moan my name.

 

Shit, I need to stop this. I’m fantasizing about my little brother’s friend. I don’t even know if Frankie is gay. With my luck he probably isn’t. it seems like all the guys I’m into or think are really hot aren’t gay. Not that it would make much of a difference if he was. Frankie is in a totally different league than I am. He could probably get any girl or guy he wants, even if he does wear skinny jeans and eyeliner and is a tattooed freak. He seems really sweet and is so fucking hot and he doesn’t even seem to know it.

 

Damn, I really need to stop smoking. I’m getting all sentimental and shit. Frankie isn’t the first guy whose pants I’ve wanted to get into and he won’t be the last. He’s no different than any other guy, there's nothing special about him so my brain needs to shut the fuck up.

 

I take a big gulp of vodka and enjoy the feeling as it burns its way to my empty stomach. I’d gone without lunch again today. Mikey always thinks I’m just not hungry. Truth is I just really love the way the drugs and alcohol affect me when my stomach is empty. Euphoria hits a lot harder and faster that way. I take another swig from the bottle and a long drag off the quickly shrinking joint. I close my eyes and sigh in contentment. This right here is what truly makes me happy, the only stuff I really need. I ignore the voice in my head that tells me I’m lying to myself, and take another sip of vodka. With every joint I smoke, every bottle I drink, and every pill I swallow, I kill that quiet voice a little bit more. At the rate I’ve been going, that voice should be dead soon. Then I can finally be at peace. I hope.

 

Chap. 5

 

Frank’s pov.

 

Hanging out at Mikey’s after school became a regular thing. His parents were never home so we could pretty much do whatever the fuck we wanted, which usually consisted of playing video games, watching horror movies, listening to music entirely too loud, and reading comic books. I know, we have exciting lives.

 

Gerard always spent most of his time in his room. Occasionally he’d come upstairs to get some of whatever food we’d had delivered. He even watched movies with us a couple times. Once I asked him what he did down there all day; he just mumbled something about working on stuff and gave me a weird look. That did nothing to satisfy my curiosity. I don’t know why I cared so much. It’s not like I was really friends with Gerard. As far as I was concerned, he was just my friend’s weird older brother. There was just something about him that seemed off. Like a mystery just waiting to be solved. Great, now I sound like Nancy fucking Drew.

 

Gerard’s pov.

 

 

Surprisingly, school was going pretty well, or as well as could be expected for me. We’d been at Belleville High for a month now and Mikey had some solid friends, he got along with his teachers and was getting good grades, and he wasn’t getting too much shit from assholes. Sure he got harassed and called an emo bitch a few times, but nothing too serious. I’m pretty sure my grades were shit, as usual. I didn’t really care enough to pay attention to how I was doing in anything except english and art. Those are the only classes that interest me, the only ones I might actually use at some point in my life. Seriously, when am I ever going to need statistics or economics? Never, that’s when.

 

I was harassed by douches, as usual, but I’ve avoided getting into any fights so far. I don’t know how long that’ll last though because there are a couple of asshat jocks that seem to have it out for me. Gavin and Blake: one of them plays soccer and the other one is on the basketball team. Apparently they’re really fucking good, so the teachers tend to ignore it when they start shit with other students. They get away with pretty much whatever they want, and what they seem to want lately is to annoy the shit out of me. So far, they’ve stuck with pretty basic stuff, roughing me up in the hallways between classes and calling me a fag whenever they see me. They were really starting to get on my nerves but I just kept reminding myself that Mikey didn’t need to switch schools again just because of me. That helped me keep my temper in check. I had a feeling things were going to come to a boiling point soon though. Blake has apparently been telling people that he can't wait to kick my ass.

 

It was Friday afternoon and my last class was almost over. I always felt a sense of relief wash over me when school was finally over on Fridays. It was like a personal victory to know I’d made it through another week without starting or being involved in any shit. The bell finally rang; I grabbed my messenger bag and headed for my locker to get the rest of my shit. Walking through these halls always made me thankful that I’m not claustrophobic; this was like wading through a fucking sea made of people. As I got closer to where my locker was, I noticed a cluster of people who weren’t moving with the waves of people, they were just standing there staring at one of the lockers. Shit, as I got closer I could tell they were looking either at my locker or one of the ones right next to it. I finally made my way to the group of people and stopped, staring. “DIE FAGGOT” was painted in huge letters that ran vertically from the bottom to the top of my locker. The bright red paint and dripped down, reminding me of blood. I stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds. I would never admit it to anyone, but seeing that shit hurt. I didn’t let myself think about it though. The other kids standing around looking at it started snickering when they saw me. They all just stood there and waited, like the thought I would burst into tears or something. Fuck them.

 

I opened my locker, trying to stay as calm as possible, grabbed my books and was about to close the metal door with someone behind me slammed it shut, narrowly missing smashing one of my hands. I whirled around to see Blake, Gavin, and some of the other jocks that regularly hung out with them. Blake was definitely invading my personal space. He leaned against the lockers behind me with a hand on either side of my head and inclined his head so his mouth was inches from my ear.

 

“Like our little love note? Faggot.” He spit the last word as if it was poison on his tongue.

 

I clenched my fists at my sides and took a deep breath, trying my hardest to stay calm. There were like six of them and one of me. If this turned physical, I was definitely going to be in trouble. I stared unblinking at Blake, hoping they would tire of this game if I didn’t play into it. No such luck. Gavin cracked his knuckles menacingly and leaned over Blake’s shoulder.

 

“He asked you a question fudge packer, now answer it!”

 

I kept up my stony silence until Gavin roughly grabbed my jaw and forced me to look at him. I knew I was going to have finger shaped bruises on my chin tomorrow. That would look fucking great.

 

“Why are you so fucking queer?” Blake hissed.

 

I knew I shouldn’t respond but I was so pissed at this point I felt like I couldn’t help myself. It would be worth whatever repercussions it would bring. I jerked my face out of Gavin’s tight grip and focused on Blake again.

 

“I wasn’t to queer to fuck your mom.” I quietly said with a smirk.

 

It was a low blow. I’d heard that Blake’s mom had died in some kind of horrible accident last year. If he insisted on starting shit with me that was fine, but I had no problem with fighting dirty.

 

As soon as the words slipped out I knew I was going to pay for them. I heard a couple gasps from bystanders. Fuck them. Let them think I was an asshole. They were about to watch me get my face smashed in and I knew they weren’t going to do shit about it.

 

The expression on Blake’s face went from cold and mocking to furious rage in a second and then his fist crashed into my face. My head slammed back into the locker behind me and I tasted the familiar coppery flavor of blood in my mouth. I didn’t even have time to register the pain I should be feeling before he punched me again. One of his hands was latched tightly to the neck of my shirt, holding me up, with the other he punched me in the stomach. God damn, that kid hit hard. I felt like all the air had left my body and I’d never be able to breathe again. He flung me to the floor and I felt a sharp pain in my elbow and hip as I slammed into the hard surface on my side. All I could see were the feet of all the kids standing around watching. I heard them screaming and hollering encouragement to these douches. After a second, I realized Gavin was standing over me, pulling his leg back to kick me in the stomach. I suddenly remembered that he was the one who played soccer. This kid knew how to fucking kick and I was pretty sure he was about to break every single one of my ribs. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the impact that never came.

 

Somehow, over all the other voices I heard Mikey’s scream.

 

“Get the fuck off my brother!”

 

Closely followed by another familiar voice, “Die motherfuckers!”

 

My eyes snapped open and I saw Mikey literally throw himself against Gavin, knocking them both to the ground. He was followed closely by Frankie, who jumped on Blake’s back, pulling him backwards away from Gavin and Mikey who were now wrestling on the floor. Shit, this wasn’t going to end well. Mikey’s a fucking twig and Frankie, well he was actually holding his own. He had his legs wrapped around Gavin’s waist and was punching the fuck out of his head. Mikey wasn’t doing as well though. He was squirming around trying to keep Gavin from pinning him down. I jumped up and lunged at that fucking asshole who was now straddling my baby brother and had a hand around his neck. Before I could reach them, one of Gavin and Blake’s other friends jumped in front of me. I punched him pretty good in the jaw once before he kicked my legs out from under me. I ended up on the floor again just in time to see another one of their friends grab Frankie off Blake’s back and throw him into a row of lockers. He hit the floor with a sickening thud. Blake stood over him and brought his foot up. I couldn’t believe it, he was about to smash Frankie’s face in. I guess both of us underestimated him though; before Blake could bring his foot down, Frankie brought his legs up to his chest, twisted on his back so he was facing Blake, and kicked him right in the crotch with both feet.

Everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye and before I had a chance to get to my feet again, I saw Ray and Bob push their way through the crowd around us.

 

“What the fuck!” Bob yelped, and then they both threw themselves into the fight.

 

Ray grabbed Gavin by his neck, pulling him off Mikey and Bob lay in to some guy who was dragging Frankie up by his hair. Finally a couple of teachers and one of the school’s resource officers pushed their way into our little group of fighting maniacs and broke things up, with some difficulty. They had trouble getting Frankie off Blake. He seemed pretty intent on doing some serious damage to that kid.

 

We were all hauled into the principal’s office. The poor dude almost had a heart attack when we all stumbled in. I knew we looked like shit. Mikey had what was quickly turning into one hell of a black eye and bright red marks on his neck from Gavin trying to choke him out. Ray and Bob didn’t look too bad; Bob had a mark on his cheek that would probably be an ugly bruise soon, and Ray actually didn’t look like he’d been touched. I knew I had to have some marks from Blake punching me, but nothing felt broken so I figured it couldn’t be too bad. I think Frankie looked like he’d gotten the worst of it. He was limping and his face was pretty bloody from a busted lip and a gash on his cheek, and like Mikey, he looked like he was going to be sporting a black eye for a few days. In spite of his injuries, the kid couldn’t stop grinning like hell.

 

The principal threatened us with detention and tried to claim we’d started the whole thing. I explained about the shit on my locker and what Gavin and Blake had said to me. We finally convinced him we were all acting out of self-defense so he agreed to let us go with just a scolding. Of course he would be calling all of our parents, but other than that, we weren’t going to be punished.

 

As soon as we left the principal’s office, I thanked the guys for helping me out. I knew I would’ve been in serious trouble if they hadn’t stepped in.

 

“Dude it was like six to one, of course we were gonna do something. Not to mention the fact that you’re my brother so I’m like, morally obligated to help you out.” Mikey said.

 

“Yeah, plus a good fight is the perfect way the break up the monotony around here.” Bob said with a smile.

 

As we reached the parking lot I turned to Frankie, “What is with you?” I asked. “You’ve been grinning like crazy this whole time.”

 

He stopped, looking at all of us. “Guys, think about it. A bunch of jocks just got their asses handed to them by some losers, punks, and fags. And the best part is that like half the school was there to see it. This is pretty much the greatest day ever!”

 

We all laughed and agreed that it was pretty amazing. As we piled into my car and headed to get something to eat, we started recounting the best parts of the fight. I tried not to think about what was going to happen when our parents saw Mikey’s face. For now, I wasn’t going to worry about it. I just wanted to enjoy this afternoon.

 

Chap. 6

 

Frank’s pov

 

I’m going to kill Mikey. Literally obliterate him. He’s going down.

 

“Diiieeeee!!!” I yelled at the screen of the TV as I jabbed the buttons on my controller furiously.

 

“Dude! What the fuck did you just do to me?” Mikey asked.

 

I started laughing. The shocked, slightly angry look on his face was hilarious! “Bitch I just ran your ass over with an invisible Warthog.”

 

“I fuckin hate you man. That’s not even fair.”

 

He began moping, which just made me laugh even more. “Come on, you’re kicking my ass at this. I had to do something to get you back.”

 

We had gone to get pizza after school then dropped Ray and Bob off at their houses. Now Mikey and I were in his living room playing Halo 3. I was sitting Indian style on the sofa, which wasn’t super comfortable, but Gerard was sitting on the floor right in front of me with his back leaning against the sofa while he drew in his sketchbook. Mikey paused the game and got up.

 

“I’m thirsty. Do you guys want anything from the kitchen?”

 

“Uhhh I’ll take a Coke.” I said.

 

Gerard just shook his head without looking up. I leaned forward, peering over his shoulder as Mikey walked out of the room. He was drawing the body of a gorilla with the head of a man. He didn’t seem to notice me studying his artwork, which surprised me. He was usually so private about that stuff, I thought he might snap the book shut and possibly bitch me out for being nosey. I figured it was worth the risk though because I was really curious about what he was always working on in that sketchpad. It looked like he was drawing a comic book. A really fucking good comic book. Mikey had told me he was talented but I didn’t know he was this good.

 

“Frankie, what are you doing?” Gerard asked softly without looking up from what he was drawing.

 

I jumped, startled, even though he barely spoke above a whisper. He hadn’t made any indication that he realized I was watching him. “I just wanted to see what you were drawing.”

 

“You could’ve just asked to see.”

 

“I didn’t think you would show me.” I said, leaning further over his shoulder. He knew I was watching and he didn’t seem like he was going to stop me, so I might as well get a better look.

 

“What made you think that?” He still hadn’t looked at me and he was talking so quietly I could hardly make out what he had said. I leaned my arm on his shoulder to help support my weight as I bent my head down right next to his so I could hear him since he was apparently planning on having the worlds quietest conversation with me.

 

“Well you’re always really private about your drawings and shit. I mean, Mikey tried to see what you were doing at lunch yesterday and you told him to fuck off then you got up and left. I figured that if you don’t even want your brother to see what you’re drawing then you definitely wouldn’t let me see.” I told him honestly.

 

He stopped drawing what appeared to be a jet pack on the gorilla/man’s body and looked at me, finally. Our faces were inches apart and he was just staring at me, not saying a word. I suddenly noticed that he had really pretty eyes. I know that sounds gay but it’s true. His eyes are green with gold around the pupils and they make me think of a forest. Not like a creepy, old, musty, dark forest but more like a young forest with sun shining down through the trees. I know it sounds weird, but it’s the only way I can describe them.

 

Gerard’s pov.

 

Frankie leaned on my shoulder and bent his head down right next to mine. I’ll be honest, I’d been talking really softly hoping he would get closer to hear me. I didn’t expect him to actually lean on me and get that close though. Not that I minded at all, but most guys don’t want to get that close to another dude, especially if they know he’s gay.

 

I finally looked at Frankie after he answered my question. He’s curious about my artwork and he’s noticed how closely I guard it. I didn’t think he paid that much attention to me. Or any at all really. Our faces were so close that I could lean in just a tiny bit and kiss him if I wanted to. Ok let’s be honest, I would love to kiss him, but I won’t. I don’t want to traumatize the kid and I’m pretty sure he would punch me in the fucking face if I made a move on him. Speaking of being punched, he’d developed quite a shiner. His left eye was ringed in dark purple, fading out into a yellowish color. Even with the bruising, I couldn’t help but notice for the hundredth time how gorgeous his eyes are. I felt like I could stare at them forever, just studying the way they seem to change color in the light and how they display his emotions for all the world to see. I’ve noticed that the fastest way to see how Frankie is feeling is to look at his eyes. They’ll tell you what he really thinks about anything, despite what his words or bearing might say. Suddenly, I wondered if those eyes were as good at lying as they were at confessing.

 

I was honestly surprised that he didn’t flinch away from how close our faces were. He didn’t seem nervous or disgusted by it. He just stared, unwaveringly, into my eyes. Finally, I looked back down at my paper and continued drawing without saying anything.

 

Frank’s pov

 

Mikey walked back into the room and jumped over the back of the sofa, landing next to me. I sat back up and took the Coke he held out. We decided to watch a movie and were soon arguing about zombies versus werewolves. I won and told Mikey to stop bitching as he popped "Trailer Park Zombies from Hell" into the blu-ray player.

 

We talked and joked around while watching the movie. Somehow, we got onto the topic of crazy ex girlfriends and I told them about the time I’d broken up with a girl after only dating for two weeks. She’d been super clingy and got insanely jealous any time I was in the vicinity of another girl. After we’d broken up, I came to school the next day to find my locker stuffed full of notes from her. There were at least a hundred of them, all saying how much she loved me, that she couldn’t live without me, that I’d broken her heart, shit like that.

 

Mikey laughed and told me about how one girl had semi-stalked him after they broke up. He finally confronted her about it when he caught her following him and some of his friends around the mall.

 

“Dude, girls aren’t the only ones who do that crazy shit.” I told him. “I dated this one guy, Shane, for like three months and he started stalking me after we broke up. He would drive by my house like twenty times a day and sometimes I would catch him following me around town and shit. One night I was cutting through this park to get home and I didn’t realize he was following me until he was right behind me. He ended up jumping me, it was pretty scary. I’ve got a restraining order against him now.”

 

As soon as I began telling my story, I noticed Gerard acting strangely. He froze, the tip of his pencil still against the paper. He was staring unblinking at his sketchpad and I had trouble telling if he was even breathing. I nudged him in the shoulder with my socked foot.

 

“Dude, you ok?” I asked.

 

For a second, nothing. Then he shook his head slightly, as if clearing his vision.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

Mikey gave his brother a weird look, then turned back to me with wide eyes. “So you really had to get a restraining order against your ex? That’s crazy man.”

 

“Yeah it was pretty bad. My mom was terrified he was going to kill me or something. He was like legit crazy. The weird thing is that I had no idea when we were together. He always acted completely normal. It’s kind of creepy to think that people can hide shit like that.”

 

Suddenly, I heard a faint rumbling noise. I shot Mikey a questioning look.

 

“Garage door,” He explained. “Our mom or dad must be home.”

 

“Well that’s my cue to get the fuck out of here.” Gerard said as he stood up and headed for his bedroom. His door closed behind him, seconds later I heard another one open and close.

 

“Mikey” a woman’s voice sounded from the hallway.

 

“In here mom” Mikey answered.

 

The realization that I was about to meet Mikey and Gerard’s mom was starting to freak me out a little. I wasn’t sure if she was going to like me. I usually do pretty well with adults but none of my friends have rich lawyers for parents. I didn’t know if I was supposed to act differently or what. I wanted to make a good impression so she would be cool with me coming over to hang out but I was pretty sure that between the tattoos, black eye, piercings, and dried blood spatters on my shirt, I looked like a fucking juvenile delinquent.

 

A tall, slim, woman wearing a black pantsuit walked into the room. Her brown hair was pulled back into a polished bun, making me realize how thankful I was for the longish front part of my hair that hung over my face, partially obscuring my bruised eye. Unfortunately for Mikey, his hair wasn’t long enough to cover shit. He wasn’t stupid though, he kept his back to the entry way and continued watching the movie playing across the TV screen. He shot me a nervous glance. We both knew she was going to see his black eye sooner rather than later, but he was going to buy himself as much time as possible.

 

I turned and looked over my shoulder at Mrs. Way as she entered the room. She stopped at looked at me for a second. I stood up and walked over to her; with an anxious smile on my face, I held out my hand and introduced myself.

 

“Hi, I’m Frank.”

 

She shook my hand as she looked me up and down. “Mrs. Way” she said. “Are you one of Gerard’s friends?” she asked. Her voice had a cold edge to it.

 

I heard Mikey give an exasperated sigh. “He’s one of my friends, mom.”

 

“Oh ok” she said, suddenly sounding much happier. “You may call me Emily.” She said smiling at me.

 

She turned and walked into the kitchen and I returned to my seat next to Mikey.

 

“Where’s your brother?” Emily called from the other room.

 

“Not sure. He may have left.” Mikey lied.

 

I had no idea why Mikey wasn’t telling his mom the truth, because we both knew damn well that Gerard was in his room, but I wasn’t going to rat him out.

 

“Dude I didn’t think she’d be home so soon. We need to get out of here before she sees my eye.” Mikey leaned towards me and hissed.

 

We both stood up and headed for the front door.

 

“Mom we’re gonna go to Frank’s house for a while.” He called over his shoulder.

 

“Yeah I want to show him my guitar.” I added, hopefully solidifying our excuse.

 

“All right,” she responded. “It’s Friday so you don’t have a curfew but don’t get into trouble and text me if you decided to spend the night there.”

 

Mikey opened the front door and we walked out onto the porch, we could taste freedom.

 

“Dude I can’t believe we got out of there without her seeing my eye!” Mikey said excitedly.

 

“Yeah, I get the feeling she wouldn’t be too happy about that.” I laughed.

 

“You have no idea.”

 

All of a sudden, I felt my heart drop.

“Mikey, please for the love of god, tell me that’s not your dad.” I said, indicating to the car coming up the driveway and now pulling into the garage.

 

Mikey had his back to the driveway and he froze, eyes doubling in size as he heard a car door slam shut.

 

“Oh my god, this is gonna be bad.” He said, on the verge of panicking. “Dude you should leave. Just go home, please.” He begged me.

 

Before either of us could do anything, a tall man stepped out of the garage and walked the short path to the porch where we stood frozen. Mikey’s dad was tall, of course, everyone looks tall from where I stand, but this guy was at least 6’2” and he looked pretty muscular. He was wearing a dark grey pinstriped suit and carrying a briefcase. I’m no expert when it comes to designer clothes, but even I could tell the stuff he was wearing was expensive as fuck. He ascended the steps to where we were standing and stopped when he reached the top one. He stared at me for a second before he addressed Mikey.

 

“Who is this?” His voice had the same cold edge as his wife’s, but while she seemed personable enough for me to have the balls to introduce myself to her, there was just something about this guy that scared me shitless. I stared at him, probably looking terrified, while Mikey looked down at his shoes, clearly trying to hide his injured eye.

 

“Um this is Frank Iero. He’s a friend from school. We were just headed to his house to hang out.”

 

Mikey’s dad studied me for a couple more seconds before glancing at his son. “You’re not going anywhere, get in the house Michael.”

 

Mikey shot me a look and we both knew his dad had seen his eye.

 

“You better go Frank, I’ll see you later.” He mumbled as he turned to go back into the house.

 

“Actually I’d like him to stay too. I want to know why my son has a black eye and maybe the kid who has one to match it can help explain.”

 

He herded us back inside the house and I heard the door slam shut and lock. Holy shit, Mikey’s dad is going to kill me.

 

 

Chap. 7

 

Frank’s pov.

 

Mikey’s dad directed us back into the recently vacated living room where we took our still-warm seats on the sofa. I wasn’t really sure why Mr. Way had insisted I stay because I wasn’t going to tell him shit that would get Mikey or Gerard in trouble. Maybe he was planning to beat a confession out of me.

He stood in front of us just staring.

 

“Emily” he called, finally breaking the tense silence. “You might want to come here and look at our son.”

 

What the fuck, he said “our son” like Gerard didn’t exist. I didn’t have long to think about it before Emily walked into the room and stood in front of us. She gently put her hand under Mikey’s chin and made him look up at her.

 

“What happened to your eye?” she asked him sternly.

 

“Will you believe me if I say I fell?” Mikey responded with a hint of sarcasm.

 

Mr. Way leveled his angry stare at me. “What happened to our son?”

 

There he goes with that “our son” shit again. This dude is starting to piss me off.

 

“Which one?” I asked. I don’t know why, but I really felt the need to remind him that he has another son.

 

“Don’t be a smartass with me.” He said, raising his voice. “You know damn well I’m talking about Mikey. Now one of you better tell us what happened.”

 

“Some kids at school were talking shit then they decided they wanted to fight us. We were just defending ourselves.” Mikey lied.

 

I knew he had no intention of bringing Gerard into this and I fully supported that.

 

“Yeah, we either had to fight back or get our asses kicked.” I said.

 

By now, Mikey’s mom had finished inspecting his face and was standing next to her husband with her arms crossed, an icy look in her eyes.

 

“Where is Gerard?” She repeated her question from earlier.

 

Neither of us responded. Mikey’s dad turned around and headed for the door leading down to Gerard’s bedroom.

 

“Dad, he’s not down there!” Mikey shouted. “He left. He didn’t have anything to do with this.”

 

I could hear the desperation in his voice. I knew that something bad would happen if his parents found out that Gerard had been involved in the fight, but I had no idea what would ensue.

 

“Gerard always has something to do with it.” Emily said as her husband bellowed their oldest son’s name.

 

Gerard’s pov.

 

I hurried down the stairs to my bedroom and stashed my sketchpad in my messenger bag. Mikey and Frank needed to get out of the house fast. If mom was already home, there was a good chance dad would be home soon too. And if he saw the damage that had been done to Mikey during that fight, there would be hell to pay. Mostly for me. Mikey could do no wrong in their eyes. He was the golden child; perfect grades, “good” friends, he didn’t party a lot or drink or do drugs, but most of all, he’s straight.

 

That’s right, my parents hate me because I’m gay. Pretty stereotypical, right? It doesn’t matter how well I do in school or if I stay out of trouble or not, nothing I do is worthy of their approval. So I stopped trying. Now I’m just the fuck up they try to pretend doesn’t exist. That’s why they never get on me about my shitty grades, or the fights I get into at school. They don’t give a fuck if I spend my days pumping my body full of illegal substances and stealing from their liquor cabinet. But if Mikey did any of that shit, they would have his ass for it. Cause he has a future, he can make s


Date: 2015-04-20; view: 137


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