Lie To Me (Frerard)

3: Frank Iero And Catshit Corner

Gerard didn't really want to make a habit of being late at all, but it seemed that God had other, far more brutal wishes, and wishes that consisted of ensuring that Gabe spent ten minutes mocking him and shouting at him as he walked in as well, which as Gerard knew all too well, was always some good fun, but what was really the worst thing of all was the text from his mother telling him he'd have to walk home again - at least it wasn't raining, but of course, that didn't seem to make anything better at all.

And of course, there he was - Frank, and dear god, Gerard was having heart palpitations just from looking at him, and despite what everyone had said, perhaps choosing to ignore him and what he wanted to achieve wasn't the best of ideas- well, after all, you could never really know until after you'd tried things out, even if only just once, so perhaps, maybe he would just let himself saunter down to the skate park in a skirt later tonight - if Mikey didn't stop him, that was.

But why should Mikey stop him? Why should anything stop him? Why should anything at all stop him in his attempts in aid of ruining his life for some fucking asshole? Of course.

It seemed walks home when he was too tired to give a fuck gave Gerard stupid ideas, and it seemed they were just ideas too stupid for him to ignore, or perhaps he was just too stupid to ignore them, and maybe, he was indeed, in fact, just as stupid as the ideas themselves.

But stupidity never seemed to real stop anyone, especially not Gerard Way, and especially not when it came to Frank Iero, and especially when he wanted to be the one that came to Frank Iero, and especially not when he was even determined to dress up in drag to get some asshole to pay attention to him.

God, he hated Frank Iero, but it was most definitely the slap me across the face and fuck me kind of hatred, because there was nothing else Gerard wanted more in the world, other than to be famous, of course, then Frank would be the one sucking his cock, ha!

At least, he'd managed to avoid Frank's attention when he'd walked past the skate park in his shitty usual clothes in the form of jeans far too tight and a shirt he hadn't washed in about two weeks now - hell, if he was a girl for real, he'd probably be fired from existence within a week, because this whole immaculate hygiene and perfect makeup thing was really proving not to be his forte.

And still as to whether Frank would even pay him any attention, stupid little skirt and all, was still an entirely different matter and one Gerard dared not think over just for his sanity's sake. Right now was exactly the time he needed Lindsey and he needed for her to lie to him about skirts and if they made it look like he actually had a butt or not, and maybe he did just need to wing it, and let a fuck up be a sign of failure and a prompt for him to give up, because he didn't spend all this money on girls' clothes for nothing, did he?

And in the end, it was frugality that brought him to idiocy - that and the fact that his mum wasn't home and therefore couldn't tell him not to, and that he was a seventeen year old boy who shouldn't go out looking like a prostitute.

-

His reflection didn't even look like him anymore, and at least in this case that had to be in his favour, regarding the lessened chance of Frank noticing him, but he was just a little concerned with just how high the red tartan print miniskirt fell on his thighs.

He was at least wearing black tights underneath, but he couldn't help but feel self conscious in these clothes at all; they were tight in all the wrong places, and the only thing he could be grateful for was the fact that the Smashing Pumpkins shirt he was wearing was his own and therefore allowed to be baggy and conceal his utter lack of cleavage, well, cleavage that wasn’t in the form of puppy fat pushed awkwardly into man boobs that he never quite got skinny enough to grow out of.