Lie To Me (Frerard)

Chapter 2

Flashback

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I loved performing.

The screaming of the crowd, the feeling of sweat pour down my skin as I put every single piece of my soul into each strum of the guitar.

I've never been a person, I've just been music, that's all I've ever been and it's all I want to be.

I'm a part of the band, not just a singer or a guitarist, in a part of a whole and I absolutely love it.

No matter where I am, when I close my eyes I feel like I'm home.

I'm in the one place I belong and I never want to be anywhere else.

Sometimes I like to pretend that this is what it'd be like if I were to go to heaven, just playing the guitar endlessly with my friends.

Gerard could sing, Ray and Mikey would be on their guitars and Bob could drum.

That's my dream.

Yet somehow, all these wonderful dreams and thought would be taken away the second I got offstage and inhaled.

I smelt horrible.

The worst part is that it's fucking difficult to properly clean yourself off when you're living out of a crummy tour bus with no shower.

It was easy for everyone else, they didn't care how they smelt, especially the Way's but I was a clean freak so there you go.

Now to get clean at all I had to carry a friggen bag of water out to a fence, hang it up and clean myself with a hose that's about as thick as one of my guitar strings.

All the while it's night because the band had just finished up as the last show of the day.

I walked across the concert in my sneakers and a pair of swimming trunks, a towel over my shoulder and the bag of water to clean up.

The guys had gone back to the bus to get some sleep but I was wide awake and I'll be reading for a bit before I even start to feel tired.

I hung the water bag up, twisted the little handle and sighed when I felt the grime start to wash away from my skin.

Water was running through my hair and I was grateful it was warm outside.

I fucking hate winter.

The snow, the cold, Christmas.

Everything that comes with winter just completely sucks.

The bag ran out of water and I sighed, I was clean but I wished I could get access to a real shower.

Drying my hair with the towel I kept taking glances at the night sky, enjoy the view of the stars.

They're really nice at the moment.

I think one thing I hate about motels is that it's in the city, there's cars and people everywhere and you kinda lose perspective of how quiet the world can be.

Maybe one day when I'm a gross old man I'll go live out in the wilderness.

Nah, I'd regret that.

"Hey, Frankie. What you up to?" Gerard walked up, putting his hands in his pockets and smiling a little.

The few lights scattered around the campsite did a good job of lighting up the area around me.

The light shone through the red half of his hair, making it look even brighter than usual.

"Just having a shower," I told him, running my hair some more, hoping it'd dry fast so I wouldn't have my pillow wet when I finally went to bed.

He stopped in front of me, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest.

I finished drying and put my towel around my neck, enjoying the feeling of being clean.

"It was some show tonight," he said and my cheeks started to go red, thinking of the kiss onstage.

Neither of us had put much thought into it, we'd just done it and as much as I didn't want to admit it I think I enjoyed the kiss more than I should have.

Of course we've done it before but we stayed with our lips together for a little longer than usual and it left me confused.

"Gerard, can we just cut the crap for a moment. I want to know what's going on between us, are we friends or something else? You realise you don't have to kiss me every show, right?" He frowned, almost appearing confused and I regretted what I'd said.

I should have kept the words to myself, now things between us were going to get weird.

"We're friends I guess. To tell you the truth, I don't know. You've always been my best friend but there's just some moments were I think of you a little differently. I don't know why, I've never thought of other guys like that," Gerard moved a little closer before shuffling awkwardly on the spot, staring at the ground.

"What about Bert? I've seen you kiss him a few times," I ran a hand through my hair, fiddling so I could pretend this conversation wasn't really happening.

"We just mucked around a little, I don't have any feelings for him. I might as well have been making out with a wall. It's not like I'm gay or anything," the last part came out as barely more than a mumble.

"I'm not gay either," I told him and I could feel my heart speed up, "I like girls, you know I've had girlfriends."

"Then why do we do this?" Gerard moved forward until he was in front of me, only inches away.

"We're lonely people, that's the only explanation I have. You haven't got anyone, I haven't got anyone. We're friends keeping each other happy," I shrugged, I knew it wasn't much but it was the only excuse I could come up with.

"So we're just doing what makes us happy?" Gerard said slowly, thinking before he finished his sentence.

"Yeah."

"Then could I just..." he leant forward until his lips were pressing against mine, barely even touching.

My pulse spiked up like I'd been shot with adrenaline and he grabbed either end of the towel around my neck, using it to pull me closer to him.

Our lips moved in unison and I slowly back up, feeling the cold, chainlink fence dig into my back.

His tongue swirled against mine and I sighed ever so slightly. He tasted like coffee and cigarettes and I doubted my kiss was flavoured any differently.

I lifted my arm and put it around his neck, pulling him closer and moaning loudly when his teeth grazed my bottom lip.

He kisses better than any girl I've ever been with.

Suddenly and unexpectedly he pulled away, breaking the kiss and leaving my heart thrumming.

"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered whiling his mouth and taking a couple of steps back while I sucked in some deep breaths.

"It's fine," I replied, looking at his messy hair and slightly swollen lips.

"I'm not gay, I'm not," he muttered to himself, staring at the ground and stuffing his hands in his pockets, "you believe I'm not gay, don't you?"

I had to think for a moment, what we just did wouldn't be the straightest thing to ever pass between two men.

"Yeah, sure," I decided to just agree with him and not start any drama over what the hell we were thinking.

"Thanks and um, I was just thinking. If I was gay, and I'm not saying I am, I'd only be gay for you, alright?" What he said made no sense at all to me but I nodded anyway.

"Please don't tell the guys about this," he begged, eyes looking desperate and I knew I couldn't tell anyone, I wouldn't want to make him upset.

"I won't, I promise."

"You're a good friend, Frankie," he smiled before turning and walking away.