Escalators {Frerard}[COMPLETED]

➳tartle

This is kinda just a filler chapter, I'm sorry but eh at least I didn't keep you waiting as long as I usually do. Are we getting onto a proper update schedule here?!

No I don't know I wanted to listen to Militia Of The Lost and it's very inspiring. 

Enjoy anyway {insert cute follower/reader name here. Suggestions?}

-Georgia.

❝Tartle- to hesitate when introducing someone because you have forgotten their name.❞

I found myself wishing that I'd been a proper teenager and climbed in through the bedroom window when I got home, because the reception I got from my mother was remarkably similar to the last time I had apparently disappeared. 

 She'd shouted at me for seven solid minutes (I counted) and sent me to my room, which I thought was a pretty pathetic punishment seeing as I was falling asleep and my room was the only possible place I could go. That was, at least, until she informed me that I was also not allowed to leave the house tomorrow, and she'd be calling Rob in the morning to make an excuse.

Apparently she wasn't as clueless as to what I was doing as I'd thought, because she'd realised that work was the main place that I was meeting up with Gerard. Hopefully she wasn't going to stop me going completely, because I was beginning to enjoy this summer of jumping over fences and sitting on the roof and talking about things and making plans for the very next day with nobody else's input. 

And besides, there was still a positive artillery of things Gerard and I needed to talk about. It was with a sinking feeling  as I ascended the stairs, that we'd planned to meet up somewhere tomorrow and do something. Hopefully I still had his number, and I could tell him what had happened (as pathetic as it was) rather than him thinking I didn't like him/I had died.

 On the bright side, though, I still didn't have to go to work in the morning, which was enough of a consolation that I could roll over onto my bed, half-asleep already, and fall asleep in my clothes for the second time that week. 

-

For the first time all summer, I woke up naturally, to sunlight streaming in through the window, the smell of toast and bacon wafting into my room, accompanied by the sound of chatting, that sounded like Ryan and someone. Actually- listening harder, I realised that it was Harry. Harry had become closer to my brother than to me recently, which I found distinctly bizarre. 

Bed was too good a place to stay right now to be bothered about going to find any breakfast. Not yet anyway. Half an hour passed with me lying in the mess of my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to think my way out of random situations that my half-asleep mind was conjuring up. Most of them involving Gerard, actually.

It was only when someone (I think it was Ryan) shouted me, telling me that Harry had actually come here for a reason- and that was because he wanted to see my sorry, tired ass. Not literally. He wanted to see me, apparently he had something to tell me. Yawning hugely, I stumbled out of my bed, raking a hand through my sweaty black hair before I started down the stairs. 

Harry was standing in my kitchen when I arrived downstairs. Harry had grown about a foot and a half since we'd left school, and had turned into a remarkable goth. Harry looked like I wished I did, but I was too small, too poor, and not brave enough. I missed him really, he'd been my best friend for years, and although he turned up on my doorstep occasionally, things weren't the same. And half the time he'd only come to see Ryan or pass on a message anyway. 

The kid towered over my brother, all black jeans and spikes and cuffs and eyeliner and hair. His bold fashion statements weren't enough to totally get rid of his telltale shy personality, as his eyes were locked firmly on the floor until I entered the room. All I was wearing was an old soccer shirt and a pair of baggy tracksuit bottoms, with my hair sticking up everywhere. 

"Hiya, Harry," I mumbled as I reached to grab a bottle of something. At the minute I didn't really care what. Ryan was standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen awkwardly, and it was only when I turned around to ask my brother if he was planning on staying that I realised I'd completely overlooked the other boy who was standing in my kitchen.

He was also tall, dressed completely in black. He was also dark-eyed, and familiar, but his presence sent a shot of foreboding into my stomach. I liked his brother sure, but having Mikey Way standing in my kitchen without any particular warning or reason unnerved me slightly, because the dude himself unnerved me slightly. It took me a moment to think why he was even here, before I realised that Harry and Mikey were, bizarrely, friends. They didn't particularly look like they were going to stay long, either.

Ryan seemed to pick up on it, and gestured to the second boy, looking at me with dark eyes. "Oh, Frank... This is Harry's friend... He's... He's, um...." My brother was obviously stumbling on the name, and I remarked on the tartle with amusement.

"Mikey," I said, at exactly the same time that Mikey said 'Tyler'. Harry snorted with laughter, and Ryan looked completely bewildered. We ignored him, hoping that he'd go somewhere else, or something. Truth be told now, I was beginning to feel a little self-concise of my dilapidated appearance, because Mikey seemed so effortlessly suave I didn't think it was fair.

Mikey grinned at my brother, and shrugged. He coughed awkwardly, before leaning backwards against the kitchen counter and pulling his phone out of his pocket and scrolling on it. Mikey's phone was remarkably broken- it looked to me like he'd dropped it off a railway bridge or something equally as destructive. 

"Oh, Frank... I had something to ask you," Harry said, averting his gaze from Mikey back to me. Trying my best to look as alert as I possibly could, fighting away the urge to go asleep again, I looked into my friend's eyes, focusing on the light to keep myself from dropping.

"I'm having a party next week, since my parents are out of town, not strictly allowed so don't say anything, and I was wondering if you were wanting to come too? I haven't seen you for such a long time and I was thinking, it would be good, right? My friend's band are playing, as well."

It should have sounded completely ridiculous, that a band was playing in Harry's house, but that was before you realised how ridiculously fucking huge Harry's house was. He could probably invite everyone in the town and still have room left.

His question cheered me up instantly. I didn't usually get asked anywhere (besides with Gerard) so the idea of a proper house-party was welcome. I grinned, and nodded at Harry, thanking him before the pair of them slowly made their way to the front door, our conversation lasting awkwardly down the hall until Harry opened the door, and disappeared down my driveway.

Mikey lingered near me for a moment, and his next words set my cheeks flaming so violently and so brightly that I was glad he turned around. 

"Oh, and I wouldn't worry about getting bored, Frankie. My brother will be there, don't you panic."