LII

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*Gerard's P.O.V*

Anger management actually sucks, like, seriously.

Mikey proposed I take classes but that seemed like too much work. I don't really think I could stand those fucking annoying instructors that work there. Y'know the slow-talking, calm,

count to three type fucks? Yeah, I just want to fucking grab their face and crub stomp-

Okay, I'll re-quote myself.

Anger management issues really fucking suck.

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"Hey, Frank!" I call with turned up lips, his head whipping over to the side as I wave at him from my car. I beckon him over. I was skipping football practice today to try and hang out more with Frank. We needed some time together.

"Aren't you driving home with me...?" I ask, leaning against the open space between the door and the seat with my arms rested on the hood. He finally makes his way over and he looks a bit... Off. His hair looks tugged at and his bottom lip looked a bit swollen. He's got a sadness to him, like he was guilty and sad from hiding it.

He gives small smile, eyes still dropping. "Yeah, of course... Just got... Caught up." It's phrased more as a question, but I didn't pester. I just gave a half-hearted shrug and climbed into the car.

Frank took a minute or two and looked as if he was composing himself, then hesitantly got into the passenger seat. I noticed he was shaking a bit and all his moves were jerky.

He honestly looked guilty of something. My eyes scan his nerve-racked frame and my eyes land on the marks ringing his neck. Hickeys?

Maybe it was my cheater-conscience, y'know when a cheater thinks his lover is cheating because they're so guilty? Probably that, but it honestly looked like Frank had some good lovin'.

Frank and I are in an honest relationship (or at least,

somewhat honest) so I just asked. Easier than beating around the bush.

"Are you cheating on me?" I ask gently and Frank's head snaps up to look at me, he looks at me a bit strangely and in a blink of an eye, his lip beings to quiver. Frank breaks out into a full blown sob.

His body shakes violently as he cries into his hands. I don't know what to do as I stare at him in complete shock. His tears drip through the cracks between his fingers and his sobs echo around the car.

He takes his hands away from his face and punches the dashboard; I jump. Droplets cascade down his red face and he turns to look at me.

"I can't do this anymore!" He heaves and I feel my stomach swirl. "This has been going on for

years and it isn't fucking fair!"

when I find my voice, I use it. "Frank, what the hell are you talking about?"

He wheezes and wipes the angry tears away. "Fucking Gabe Saporta and fucking S-Spencer Smith and the rest of the fucking football team-

I can't anymore."

"Frank, I don't understand-"

He burst out into another sob. "Remember months ago when I had a black eye? You wanted to help?" I nod, feeling my stomach set funny. "Well, it was Gabe and Spencer and the rest of the fucking football team. Every-fucking-day I'd get pounded on, every time I passed the football field I was beat up. Then- then you came! We started dating and it stopped, it fucking stopped. After years of abuse, it stopped. Then we had our... Break, and it started again. But worse this time. You had become their friends and they thought it was my fault."

I gulp. The flag pole, that's who put him up that.

Frank stops to laugh between his croaks. "So they pounded me harder, I guess I deserved it. No one should ever love me, I believe them now." Frank wipes at his eye and an orangey liquid rubs off on his hand. Concealer drips from his hand as a large purpley-green bruise appears under his left eye. He points to it and lefts his shirt, showing off large blossoming bruises and deep cuts. I feel bile rise to my throat.

My friends, the people I have grown close to for the past months beat up the boy I loved on multiple occasions.

"Who-"

"Gerard, I know you are angry but I don't need you to jeopardize your rep and your friends-"

"Fucking

who, Frank?" I spit, I am seeing red. I can feel venom shoot through my veins as I try not to lose my temper. But I knew that wasn't going to happen, it never did.

Frank whimpers. "Saporta and Smith and the rest of the team... Other than William." I can't control my body. My ears are ringing as I kick the car door open and rush over the the football field, ignoring Frank's yells of protest.

I stomp onto the field, shadowed by Frank. I make my way over to the huddle of football players, spot the first one I could find- Gabe- and pounce. I tackle him to the ground and start whaling on him.

There's a lot of bodies thrown around and screaming, but nothing stops me. Red clouds my vision as I repeatedly punch his brains him, spewing profanities and taking hits. There's three people on me I think but I push them off. Gabe fights back, landing a knee to my rib and scratch to my cheek. Eventually, he pushes me off and screams at me. I honestly could care less as I tackle Spencer to the ground next.

"Ever fucking touch him again and I'll fucking kill you!" I growl as I punch blindly everywhere. I don't know how many of the players I go through before Coach Leto grabs me by my shirt as I'm choking someone and throws me off to the side.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, Way? Principal's office now! And don't even think about coming back here, you're off the time! Now, Fuentes! Get the nurse."

I get up and wipe my nose, spitting at a couple of my ex teammates on the ground. I try to sit up but I fall back down. Frank rushes over to my side and helps me up.

I look up at him with swollen eyes. "Thanks." I say with bloody teeth. Frank's eyes scan over my cheeks and I smirk. "What? Is there something on my face?"

Frank recoils and looks at me in disbelief, then he smiles a bit. "You're psychotic, you know that right?"

I smile genuinely, ignoring how much it hurts. "No, just madly in love."

Frank smiles back knowingly.

You're Weird, I Like You • Frerard ✓Where stories live. Discover now