Screaming at the Sun | Frerard

Chapter Seven

im on a train and the wifi is so sloww hhh

also unholyverse art because i finished the first book at like 4am this morning with a horse that i had to feed chewing loudly in my ear

After twenty minutes of sitting alone, Gee was just about ready to call Frank and ask him what the fuck had happened when he stepped back into the room, a tall, unhappy-looking guy beside him. He had blonde hair and a lip ring, and his face made it clear that the only reason he was here was that Frank either bribed or threatened him into coming.

"I got a drummer," Frank grinned, and Gee looked at him skeptically. "You got a drummer," She repeated, and Frank nodded, looking rather pleased with himself.

"You didn't tell me your singer was hot," The blonde guy grumbled, and Frank elbowed him. "Back of the fuck off, Bob. She's taken."

"By who?" Gee asked, before thinking better of it and shaking her head. "Never mind, I don't want to know. But I thought you were a drummer, Frank." Gee said, and Frank agreed. "Well, duh. But I can't play drums and guitar."

"Is this a perk of being famous?" Gee asked, looking down at him through her messy hair. "Getting everything you want? Does anything bad ever happen in your life, Frank?"

"Um, I'd say so," Frank shrugged, the drummer next to him momentarily forgotten. "I've had two of my parents die."

Gee's stomach dropped with guilt and she slapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, shit, I – "

"Unimportant," Frank waved her away, putting his arm around the blonde guy's shoulder. "Gee, this is Bob. He likes rock, too."

Gee was still frozen in place. Fuck, two of his parents had died? Was Frank an orphan or something?

"Not really," Bob said, but Frank shushed him. "Don't deny it, Bob."

"Okay," Bob said. "So, we're playing 'Desolation Row?'"

"Yeah," Gee forced out, blinking a few times to pull herself back. "But not the version you know."

✰✰✰

Bob was a liar.

Or at least, that was the only conclusion Gee could come to after they'd run through the song a few times. No matter what Bob had said, after hearing his drums Gee knew that he must like rock. No one could play like that without liking rock.

Unfortunately, that also meant that he played as if he were in front of ten thousand people, instead of in a seven-by-ten practice room.

"That sounded fucking sick!" Frank stomped his foot, hyped, as the song finished.

"Can it just be like, a little slower?" Gee asked. "And quieter? And less, uh, smashy?"

"What?" Bob asked, and Frank shrugged. "Gee's using the vocabulary of a toddler."

"Or maybe Bob's just deaf from his own drum playing." Gee muttered under her breath, before adding, "But you're pretty talented, Bob," Gee nodded at the drummer, and Frank yelped. "Um, what about 'you're pretty talented, Frank?' I think I sounded great." He added, and Gee walked over to where he was sitting and put her hands on his shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head.

"You're talented too, Frank," She said with amusement as she walked back to the mic stand, making an effort to put an extra swing in her hips. Frank noticed it, cupping his mouth with hands and shouting, "Kiss my mouth, you coward!" after her.

Gee ignored him, wrapping the mic cable around her wrist absentmindedly. "So, where do we go from here? Have you started writing lyrics yet?"

"A few," Frank admitted, and Bob looked at them, confused. "Lyrics for what?"

Frank explained the situation with Patrick and his label, and Bob listened, nodding silently until he was done.

"Need a drummer?" Bob asked.

"Yes," Gee said, at the same moment Frank said, "No."

"I can play drums in the studio," Frank explained, but Gee scoffed. "Yeah, but what about practices? You can't play both at once, or did you grow another pair of arms while I slept?"

"You'd know the answer to that if we'd slept together," Frank pointed out, and Bob looked back and forth between them. "You don't sleep together?" He asked, and Gee rubbed her nose in a lame attempt to hide the heat crawling up her neck.

"No, we're not dating." Gee clarified, and Frank shrugged. "We could be."

"You should be." Bob agreed, and Frank stood up.

"Want to be my girlfriend, Gee?" Frank asked, and Gee rolled her eyes. "This is very off-topic." She groaned. "We should be focusing on our music, and how totally mediocre we sound."

"Oh yeah," Frank nodded enthusiastically. "Showing off our rock skills at a jazz camp – What could go wrong?"

"Shut up," Gee snorted, but she was internally grateful the subject of dating had been dropped. Being around Frank without him knowing about her was one thing ­– dating him was another.

But fuck, Gee couldn't tell him, not even for the life of her. It would ruin everything, and Frank needed this. Not just for his brother, but for him, too.

"Well," Bob said. "If you're actually interested in the music and not just fucking each other, there's an open stage after dinner."

"We should do it!" Frank said in excitement, but Gee was too fixated on the 'fucking each other' part. Is that what it looked like to other people?

Is that what it looked like to Frank?

She nodded absentmindedly, which Frank took as a yes. "Let's run it again! This time, louder!"

i came up with more ideas for the plot so hopefully this gets kind of interesting soon 

also, my therapist was showing me this book of confessions she had in her office and someone put a photo of gerard way in one of them and i was like "oH heY"

and i didn't really sleep last night because i got rained on, and there was this cool asf frog hopping around my feet (and you cant just walk away from a fROG you know??) but the unfortunate consequence of no sleep is that i have zero braincells so if this chapter suckS, then oOpS

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