out of control-frerard

they say the devil that you know is better than the devil that you don't

gerard pov

another day. 

another fucking day.

and somehow school went by so fucking fast so i'd HAVE to be slowed during cheer practice.

i get my way-too-short uniform on and head to the back of the line up like normal, but coach stops me.

"WAY! TO THE FRONT, NOW."

i flinch, shaking in fear.

their eyes are on me as i tread to the front line up of girls. coach moves some other whore to the back. she glares daggers at me.

i take a mental note to stay away from barbie at the back.

actually, does she even deserve to be called barbie? at least barbie is hot AND can do whatever she wants.

whatever.

i look at the ground, my medium length brown hair covering my face.

there's another girl next to me who looks familiar, i take a glance at her

ohhh fuck.

it's lindsey ballato.

shit 

well this just got 100x worse.

and for the rest of practice, i'm gone.

-x-

coach stops me from going to change, which is sad because that means i get more of a chance to get gossiped about right in front of. but whatever.

"gerard, no shame. being a cheerleader is fun and you're actually pretty good at it. i'd like it if you stayed. and don't listen to anything these girls say, you're strong."

i smile. she's one of the few teachers that for some reason seems to care.

she smiles back and pats me on the shoulder "alright, now go change."

i nod and make my way to the locker room, grabbing my shit and running to the stalls. like hell i'm going to change in front of a group of fucking girls.

i jump into my way-too-tight jeans and slip on my belt. 

and i sprint out of that god damn room and jump into my car, slamming on the gas. 

i fucking hate lindsey ballato.

that's all i can think as i speed home.