My Chemical Romance one-shots

The World is Ugly

After Our concert in Denver was when things began to fall apart. We were all tired by the end of the four hour show and my fingers felt like they had been cut off. I collapsed onto the sofa of our tour bus, and let out an exaggerated sigh. Gerard didn't say anything. He was standing with his back against the door to his bedroom, and had his eyes fixed on the floor. Ray was siting in the passenger seat with his head in his hands. Mikey, was looking at us all with an expression that looked so sad, I couldn't bare to meet his gaze. I was genuinely concerned. Normally, we'd get onto the bus and Gerard would begin saying something that would make us all laugh until our sides hurt. But not tonight. Everyone just looked sad or angry, and I didn't understand why. I slowly got to my feet and said, "Well, if you all are going to sit around and look like kicked puppies all night, I'm going to bed." No one said anything. Gerard looked up and nodded, but that was it. I pushed past him to get to my room. Once in, I quietly shut the door and dove for the bed. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I looked to see a message from Gerard. That lazy dork couldn't even come into my room to talk to me even though he was only a few feet away. I picked up the now silent phone and smiled when I saw my lock screen. It was a photo of Gerard and I during the making of the music video for "I'm not Okay". We were both smiling with all of our teeth and Gerard had his arm around me. My finger slid across the screen, unlocking it.
The message from Gerard was short and states simply, "I need you to come to my room later. We need to talk. Alone." I replied a few seconds later with, "Okay. Is something wrong?" He didn't respond for a while, but I could see that he had read my text. I but my lip and leaned my head back. What was going on? Gerard had never asked me to come talk to him alone. We always talked in front of everyone else, no matter the topic. The only times that he had ever asked me to come into his room were when he was feeling sad or alone and needed someone to hold. It wasn't a gay thing, we were just a couple of friends trying to help each other through life. With an occasional kiss or cuddle on camera for the fans. My phone vibrated in my hands, making me jump slightly. Gerard had finally texted back.
"Just come in here." And then moments later, "please".
Okay, now I was really worried. I swung my legs over the side on my bed and stuffed my phone in my pocket. It was now or never, I guess. My hands shook violently and I knocked on his closed door. I heard a muffled "come in", so i did. And what I saw inside his room was devastating.
His drawings were scattered, and torn. Some had scribbled or X's through them.looking closer, I could see that most of them were the drawings that Gerard had done of me. The area that his photos once hung was bare. I could see a few photographs on the floor with the others, including one of me and him. It had been ripped in half. And it hurt. Bad.
There were broken pencils in the trash can by the door, and with it was a Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge shirt with everyone's signatures on it. I had given him that shirt. I almost couldn't bring myself to look at his bed, but eventually I did. Gerard was lying on his back amidst the messy sheets and comforter. His eyes were red, and his cheeks shiny. He had been crying. He lifted his hand and patted the spot next to him. I shuffled my way to him. I sat next to him, on the verge of tears.
"I can't keep doing this, Frank. Pretending that everything is okay. Putting on a smile for everyone, just so that they can believe me when I say I'm fine. And most of all, I can't keep going around and acting like we're a couple. I've been telling myself that it was okay to go around acting a little gay, but it's not. It's not okay. None of this is okay." He closed his eyes and sighed.
"Gee I-" he cut my off the moment I began speaking.
"Stop calling me that," he snapped. "Nicknames are for couples, and we are not a couple."
"I never thought that we were." I lied. The truth is, I've been thinking of Gerard as more than a friend for years. But now here he was, raining on my gay parade.
"I wasn't talking about you." Oh. Now I understood. "Frank, I..." He stopped, taking a deep breath. "I want you to stop talking to me. I want you to stay as far away from me as possible. Don't even look at me anymore. Do you understand?"
"No. I don't. Why are you saying this all of a sudden? Why-" He cut me off, again.
"Just stop!" He was on his feet now, staring at me with more hatred than I had ever seen in a person. "All of this is over. We're over and I never want to have to see your fucking face ever again! Now get the hell out and never come back! Go!" He pointed at the open door. I scrambled off of the bed and out of the room. I shut the door behind me. My body slid down the wood until I was sitting in a heap on the floor. The tears started coming, and I couldn't stop them. My body went numb. Why? Why was all of this happening? Why?!
"Frank? What's wrong?" Ray. He was crouched down next to me with his hand on my arm.
"I'll tell you what's wrong," Gerard had opened the door to his room and was glaring at me. "I never want to see this faggot ever again." He kicked me, hard. Gerard leaned down and said the most awful thing that had ever been said to me.
"Why don't you just go and kill yourself? Then I won't even have to worry about seeing your ugly face."
I got to my feet and turned to face him.
I looked him dead in the eye and whispered, "Okay."
And then, I was gone.