We're All Outcasts (Gerard Way/ MCR Fanfiction)

The Whole Damn Room On The Edge Of A Blade

Two Days Later:

Scarlett's POV:

It was the moment of truth. It was after school on Friday in the Drama room and the atmosphere was so tense you could cut it with a pair of blunt scissors (never mind a knife!).

Gerard had his laptop on, waiting for the email. He was clearly as nervous as all of us; his legs were intermittently tapping on his chair and furrows were set into his brow.

Finally, he raised his voice, addressing us all.

"OK, I've got the email. Do you want me to announce who's who or to tell you all separately?"

There were various voices shouting different things but the majority was clear.

"Separately it is, then."

We all waited. Once someone's name was called out, they left the room and were told their role outside before coming back in.

Mikey came back with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. He was practically jumping up and down.

"I'm Romeo! I got Romeo!"

I hugged him quickly.

"Well done. I fucking said you'd get it!"

We waited together for me to be called out. After what seemed like a painful eternity, my name was said. I was the last one.

I followed Gerard outside and closed the door.

"Congratulations, you're Juliet."

I was stunned. I knew I wasn't awful at Drama, but I never actually thought I would be the leading female character.

"Don't look so shocked. You must have guessed."

I shook my head firmly, fringe flopping about irritatingly.

"No. I thought it would be someone else, especially after I lost my voice."

"I told you, you were good! That was what made it stand out."

That embarrassing red blush crept up my face again. I hated it so much. Why couldn't I just keep my face neutral instead of turning into a tomato every time someone spoke to me? And why did I have to get so many compliments? Urgh. The fact that it was Gerard giving the compliments didn't help either. I couldn't even look at him without feeling like my face was going red. I guessed I'd  never be able to just flirt with people like most people do. Not that I'd want to flirt with my Drama teacher (as nice as he was, that's just wrong. He was five years older than me and I was his pupil. Nothing was ever going to happen).

"Thanks. Oh, and out of interest, who's Eliza playing?"

He paused, then said in a low voice:

"I should strictly be keeping this to myself, but I suppose you'd find out soon enough anyway. She's Rosalind."

I grinned.

Then my heart flipped and I grimaced in pain, making my hands into fists so tight that my knuckles were white.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine - it'll be alright in a minute." I gasped, trying not to move my chest while I was talking because it hurt so much.

"You've gone really pale. Do you want me to fetch the nurse?"

I could tell he was really concerned, but I shook my head in protest.

"What will she do? Give me a wet paper towel?"

I leant against the wall and screwed my eyes up, thrusting my fist into my chest. It seemed to do something, because the pain stopped. I caught my breath.