kik!frerard

kik!33

i groaned, quickly throwing a jacket over myself and scrambling to get to my car as quickly as possible. thank god my mom was away this weekend. she would lose her head if she found out i had brought someone drunk (none the less frank iero) home.

i shook my head, telling my GPS the address that Bob gave me. i shouldn't have let him go in the first place. but he needs to become responsible.

"uh, fuck it," i grunted, continuing to follow the directions. it was one thing not to listen to me and another to go get yourself drunk for me to take care of you all by myself.

i couldn't tell whether to be upset, disappointed or angry.

after a few more directions i could clearly tell i was on the street of the party. bright lights, people passed out on the yard, sluts that smelt of alcohol. a typical high school party.

i wrinkled my nose, wiggling my way through the hot mass of bodies and girls feeling me up. the alcohol and smoke was disgusting. but i ended up spotting Bob in the kitchen.

"hey, where's Frank?" i asked him. he turned, bottle in hand and pointing upstairs. "i think he went to the bathroom or something."

"thanks," i replied before quickly rushing up the stairs to find him. in the bathroom? doing what? what if he was in the bedroom? or even with someone else. the thought made me sick -everywhere. even worse with having my stomach tightening at the near smell of weed, the dingy-ness  leaving me to cover my nose.

i knocked on the door just as it opened, Frank stumbling out. He clumsily fell against me as i struggled to hold him up.

"Gerard!" he yelled at me, pointing right in my face as if we're old friends that haven't seen each other in years. "Gerard, you came to party! buddy, i miss you," he suddenly whined, dragging out his words.

"you're coming home," i said, grabbing his arm tightly before he could bolt off anywhere else.

"noooooo! no, gerard, no."

why is he so whiny when he's drunk?

i shook my head, dragging him toward the stairs.

"yes, frank," i muttered, trying to remain a calm facade with all the noise and hoe easily pissed i was getting.

"but, g-gerard, i need to get my stuff," he protested, pulling himself back. i stared at him, trying to see if he was being honest, but was there even a point in trying to tell or not? his eyes were red, too red for it to be normal.

"fine, hurry," i ordered, quickly following after him as he rushed into a near room. he rushed into a bedroom; i stayed at the door, watching him grab his phone and wallet, lazily shoving the objects into his pockets. he stumbled back over toward me, a smirk graced on his lips. he made a small giggle and i tugged on his arm again.

"GEE," he yelled for heaven and earth to hear. i didn't think he could be so loud.

"what?!" i spat, looking back at him.

"you hurt my arm," he whimpered, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

"okay, i'm sorry."

i grumbled in distress and pulled him away from everyone as quick as possible although they were all talking to him and saying goodbye. it was hard to ignore his whining and loud stomps as i pulled him with me.

i shoved him into the car, groaning as i got into the driver's seat, praying to god that i wouldn't get pulled over.

"Gerard," he said quietly, poking my cheek.

"what!" i yelled at him, making him shrink back. "jesus christ, does this happen every weekend?" he looked wide-eyed, mouth agape as if he had just watched me kill someone. he stared down at his lap, gulping. "answer me."

"yo-you yelled at me," he stuttered, crossing his arms over his chest. he was the complete opposite when he was drunk.

"and?"

"it hurt my feelings," he said slowly, looking at me in a shocked manner. i was suprised he had lost his cocky attitude and that it had been replaced with a much more emotional aura. "you hurt my feelings, Gerard."

i felt my heart pull, longing for me to not be angry at him. he sounded so upset. is this how he really feels any time that i say something bitchy? am i really this rude, all while not even realising how much it actually hurt him.

i didn't think it did.

i looked over at Frank, a sniffle and small hiccup emitting from him. he really did look hurt.

"i'm sorry," i said softly, glancing over at him.

"shut up."

my eyes widened at his sudden change in mood.

he looked at me, a smile spreading across his face. he started laughing.

"you think i'm being serious. YOU APOLOGIZED. i mean i accept your apology, but i can't stand being this saaad."

i sighed, ignoring him, even as he grabbed my hand and forced it to stay in his lap where he held it too tightly.

i finally pulled up to my house, yanking my hand from him. instead of being upset, he pushed the door open, running out of the car. i rushed out but calmed once he was chuckling at the front door.

i grunted when i pulled my keys from my pocket, watching him jump up and down like a little kid.

as i opened the door, he yelling in excitement, rushing into the house and flipping the light switches back and forth.

"Gerard," he said, stretched out on my couch. "are we having a sleepover?"