Summertime (Frerard)

14: How We Like To Do It In The Murder Scene

"Mikey-" The younger of the two Way brothers, both of which I had come to find myself rather unfortunately closely acquainted with, was smoking behind the back of the Art Department. He was far too casually inhaling the puffs of smoke, tar and nicotine in an environment that didn't exactly take well to smokers, and was far too casually ignoring my every word.

He smoked differently to Gerard, despite the fact his nicotine addiction was probably inspired by the aforementioned red haired little shit. Gerard liked to inhale long and deep needy breaths; the smoke spun into pretty little shapes and swirled in the wind under his breath. Gerard didn't just smoke; he made an art of it. Mikey, however just put the cigarette between his lips and inhaled short, sharp puffs and he didn't make an awfully graceful job of it.

"Piss off." He managed to utter two words between desperate puffs of nicotine. When Gerard said Mikey would tell me, he hadn't been right at all, but of course he wouldn't tell me, it doesn't take much to know how secretive Mikey Way is when regarding his older brother. I didn't think Gerard truly understood this either, because there was the simple fact that Gerard had this unfortunate habit of not being able to appreciate himself, for well, himself. I wondered how he managed it; Gerard had almost become the black hole at the center of my solar system. Because he sucked (not in that way), he sucked like hell.

"Gerard asked me to ask you." Mikey simply turned away in a disinterested manner, but that didn't stop the little wince, the little shudder whenever I mentioned Gerard's name, because despite just how many times we'd been through this, Mikey still wasn't quite satisfied with my knowledge of Gerard's existence, and for what reason I'd be hoping to find out. "This means he wants you to tell me." I was pretty sure Mikey had already figured that out, I just wasn't quite so certain that he was all that keen to admit it.

"Well how about you ask him if he wants to take that idea and shove it up his arsehole?" Mikey clearly wasn't in the best of moods previously, and my rather personal and somewhat touchy, but overall necessary choice of subject matter wasn't helping at all. I mean, I'd ever sought out the guy, dodging between art teachers to get behind here, (not that the aforementioned was a particularly difficult task, considering the fact that the majority of the art teachers were rather lax when it came to school discipline) and now all I got was that stuck up little face of his as he refused to acknowledge the fact that his brother and I were friends.

"Please-" I looked into those stupidly arrogant hazel eyes that made me sick with deja vu from Gerard's, but Mikey eyes were really not quite like Gerard's. They lacked a certain something that I just couldn't ever seem to put my figure on. "Mikey... I know you're overprotective-" Okay, maybe that wasn't the best choice of wording for someone quite as arrogant and proud as Mr Mikey Way himself.

"Overprotective?" He spat, as if the idea was utterly absurd and not the truth, because, in truth, he was just awfully overprotective - this was a fact that I assumed there to be a reason behind, and now I was just stuck in a desperate struggle to figure out the aforementioned reason, because it really didn't look like Mikey would be inclined to tell me, even with nudging and persuasion, and even on Gerard's part.

"Yes, overprotective." I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if I'd ever get some form of answer out of someone with an ego as big as his - I doubted that I wouldn't, but, I think maybe just a little bit of optimism may be needed just to bright things up, because in the world of the Ways, one can very easily get lost. "Please just tell me. He wants me to know." Our eyes met and I felt myself stuck in some pathetic state of visual pleading with him, which certainly wasn't the best of situations to be stuck in, especially with Mikey Way.

"Well what if I don't?" He snapped at me in a manner that made me shiver, just a little- okay, maybe more than just a little, but I kind of didn't want to continue in the manner of thinking that Mikey Way scared me - because he didn't, and fuck, was I going to let him? Hell no. "What if I don't want you to know, Frank?" He sounded an awful lot like a temperamental five year old right now, and it was both irritating and amusing at the same time.