Take Me By The Hand

Two x_x

Mikey falls over, laughing hysterically. He clutches his stomach, his eyes getting teary as he finds humor in my pain and embarrassment. I knew I shouldn't have told him what happened with Zacky, about my "I want to shove my tongue so far down your throat" comment, but he pestered me until I gave in. Now, he's wheezing with the giggles that had erupted from him. Good. I can already hear his asthma acting up and narrow my eyes. I shove him away, watching him yelp and tumble to the floor while I huffed and leaned back on the bed, crossing my arms over my chest. 

This was not funny.

"I hate you so much," I mutter, glaring at the textured off-white ceiling. 

Mikey's head pops up over the side of the bed, watching me from his new position on the floor, giggles now at least somewhat stifled. "This is hilarious," He says. I simply harden my expression, still shooting death glares at the ceiling, willing it to fall and hit the younger Way brother on the head. Mikey just climbs up onto the bed next to me. I watch him carefully. If he laughs one more time, I'm pushing his ass back on the floor. 

He pulls his legs under him and looks at me, bouncing a little, his infamous poker face now in place. "So what are you gonna do?"

I sigh. "Avoid Zacky like he's contracted the black plague. Hope I never have to see him again. Ever." Okay, so maybe I was overreacting a little. I wouldn't be able to avoid him forever; We still had one more year of High School left together after this, and this was a small school. Mikey knew that, too.

He rolls his eyes. "I think you should talk to him."

It's my turn to laugh but, unlike Mikey's whimsical giggles, mine is short and humorless. "I tried to talk to him today and look at how that turned out." I flinch at the memory as it comes to mind again. I push the thought away and groan. I bring both of my hands up, rubbing my eyes, feeling tired all of a sudden. What time is it, anyway? I move my gaze to the left, trying to see the alarm clock set up on Mikey's nightstand, but my eyes land on him instead. He watches his hands thoughtfully, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. I cock an eyebrow. "What's on your mind, Mikes?" I ask.

He looks up, surprised, like he forgot that I was even there. He opens his mouth slightly before closing it again and shaking his head. "Nothing."

"Liar," I accuse easily. I prop myself up on one elbow and poke him in the side. "Come on. Talk to Frankie."

Mikey rolls his eyes, but refuses to look at me. I wait silently for him to speak. Finally, he sighs and his eyes meet mine. "I heard people talking in the hall today," He says, and then stops. I know there's more, so I again wait. His eyes drop to the gray sheet beneath us and the rest comes out in a rush. "Synyster's having a party this weekend and Zacky's going as his date."

I don't respond. I don't feel like I can. It feels like my heart just sank like the Titanic, and Mikey's words were the ice burg. He glances up at me and I force myself to swallow, knowing I need to say something. "Oh..." Yep. Great job, Frank. That sounded intelligent. But that was the only response I could muster as the pressure in my chest made it hard to breathe. 

I should have seen this coming. In all honesty, I did see this coming. I should've just accepted it. I knew that Synyster was popular and gorgeous and nice and soon enough Zacky would be wrapped around his little finger. I knew that I would never have a chance with Zacky but... Fuck, it hurt like hell finally knowing that Synyster had won him over. And I was here, biting my lip and trying not to think about what was bound to happen between them at the party this weekend. 

"You okay?" Mikey asks, his voice surprisingly soft.

I look up at him, but seeing the sympathy in his eyes doesn't make me feel any better. I'm not usually someone that accepts sympathy; Shit happens and you take it and someone saying "I'm sorry" for something that was completely out of their control was pointless. I absently scratch my arm, now avoiding Mikey's empathetic gaze, as I stand up. "I'm fine," I lie. "It's getting late, I should probably get home." Mikey nods sadly. "I'm fine," I repeat, this time meeting his curious gaze, before dropping it and making my way to his bedroom door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I push the door open, moving into the hallway. My gaze is still fixated on the floor, which is why I don't see Gerard until I run into him. Hard. My body, smaller than his, is knocked backwards from the force and I trip over my own feet. I think I'm going down for sure, but Gerard's arms reach out just in time, catching me and pulling me to a stable standing position. He makes sure I'm not going to topple over again before averting his gaze and letting me go. "Sorry," He mumbles, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his oversized hoodie. 

I shake my head, knowing very well it was my fault, not his. "It's fine," I say, hearing my own voice crack. Oh crap... I hope that Gerard didn't hear me, but of course I had no such luck. His hazel eyes immediately meet my own, his brows creasing together in a mixture of confusion and what looks like concern.

"Are you crying, Frank?" He asks. Yeah, that's definitely concern in his voice. Damn these sympathetic people!

I quickly shake my head, but I feel the tears already stinging in my eyes. "No, of course not," I say. My gaze drops to the ground and I mentally curse my own feelings for betraying me like this. "I gotta go."

Without another word, and without waiting for a response, I slip past him toward the stairs. I make my way through the quiet house without running into Donna or Donald, the Way brothers' parents, thankfully. But as soon as I shut the front door behind me, letting the cool air hit my face in the fading sunlight, I feel the tears come pouring out.