The Blind Artist (Frerard MCR Fanfic)

2: Smile

*A/N: so I'm going to start updating more regularly now so that I can finish this (starts crying because I don't want to end it just yet) and enter the Watty Awards. I thought I would give a little insight to how I write- I start with a basic outline then I go into detail and then gradually write the dialogue then fill it in and the picture with this chapter is just an example of how far The Blind Artist has come over the past year! (sorry for my belly in the pic hehe) anyway enjoy the second part and don't forget to vote, comment and share! Xx

2: Smile

Gerard's P.O.V.

"Do I look okay?" I ask nervously fiddling with the crooked tie around my neck, I hated dressing up but Frank insisted, I would love to just wear my skinny jeans and a baggy grey shirt out but instead I was made to look twice my age in a black shirt and red tie.

"You look perfect to me," Frank saves me by coming over to where I'm stood and starts my tie over again. "I'm so proud of you, now it's your turn to get your message out." He beams up at me, his green eyes twinkling as he brushes my shoulders, straightens my collar and makes a fuss like a mother on her child's first day of school.

But I didn't care how stupid it made me feel because above all I felt loved and cared for, him doing things like this- helping me shave, doing my tie and shoelaces, anything that seems mundane tasks now have purpose when he does them. I just wish they weren't because I was left in a mist that made me feel like I was watching everything through a camera lens.

"Do you think they will offer me a drink... Like champagne or something?" I bite on my bottom lip, it had always worried me, what if they don't have anything non-alcoholic and I crack under the pressure. I had tried so hard after the little incident with the wine over a year ago.

I see Frank tense a little but then I hear him sigh as he takes both my hands. "Of course there will be. But with every temptation it takes a great strength to deny them, in doing that it's trusting yourself to say no- to stop and think be for picking up that glass. You let it beat you once, this time it won't beat you again."

His words give me strength, a burst of energy, which is why I felt even worse by the fear of slipping up. Because I had so much to lose this time. "I can't. Frank, what if I lose control? What if-"

He cuts me off with a soft hand to the cheek, stroking my flushed skin with his thumb soothing me with a gentle "Shhh. It's going to be okay I'm here, and I promise you I'll always support you, I trust you to follow your heart."

And my heart said that Frank was the one, the one who would be with me till the end and through thick and thin. The only person I would let down was myself. With a content hum and a soft loving kiss to his forehead I tug on his hand as I will up the courage to do this. "Let's go."

We walk into the gallery our fingers clutched around each other's as we take it all in. It's amazing, looks so beautiful, I can't believe so many people came, who knew there was so many art fans out there. They are all holding a glass of champagne in their hands, filling the glass walled and white interior of the gallery with critical eyes, they all look too sophisticated it makes me feel insecure. It makes me want to hide, put on my glasses to stop the bright light from burning my eyes, I just wanted to see my work and go. No hello's and no goodbye's.

"Can we just go now?" I ask as I realise we were all looking around, trying to find a place to fit, somewhere to go to. But we don't. We don't fit in, no matter how much I wish we did and how much time had changed the world and the way people looked, we were still outsiders.

"No. We'll stay; just think they are here for you, it's your time to shine." Frank places his hand on my shoulders, well does his best to look intimidating but instead just looks tiny by the way he stands slightly on tip-toes to reach up to me.