TALK TO ME ¯ᶠʳᵉʳᵃʳᵈ

-ˏˋｏｎｅ：ｓｉｌｅｎｃｅˊˎ-

WARNING:

Topics such as rape, self-harm, child abuse and homophobia are mentioned a lot throughout this story. Do not proceed if these topics trigger you.

"

Silence. It takes over my voice but never my mind. I can hardly speak, but can't seem to shut my thoughts up. I really wish it was the other way around, especially when I find myself in a situation like this.

"Speak up, fag!" the football player, who had me pinned to a locker, kept repeating over and over again. He held me by the neck against the lockers, and even if I wanted to speak, I couldn't because my breath along with my voice was trapped beneath his grip.

This was nothing new for me. I just looked down at my sneakers like they were the most fascinating thing in the world and took the beating. The football player's fist finally met with my stomach and even my groan of pain was just a strangled breath. He chuckled, releasing me and letting me sink to the ground.

"HEY! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!" There was my rescuer-late, as usual, but I couldn't complain.

My skinny best friend came running down the hall and the football player actually looked intimidated. Sure, this skinny guy didn't look the least bit intimidating, but everyone knew that my friend, Mikey Way, was not to be messed with.

Before Mikey got a chance to do anything, the football player had already walked away.

"Hey, Frankie, you alright?" he knelt down next to me and I just nodded, afraid of someone being around to hear me. "It's ok, we're alone."

I looked up and down the halls, seeing that we were alone and spoke. "He punched me." My voice was hoarse since he had me pinned to the lockers by my neck.

"You need to stand up for yourself, Frankie," Mikey sighed, helping me up. "What if I don't make it next time? How far is he gonna get?"

"They won't do anything," I shrugged. "Just beat me around a bit."

"You don't know that," Mikey insisted.

I just stayed silent and walked with him towards the front doors of the school. Mikey's brother, Gerard, would be picking us up as per usual. Before I go on about this character named Gerard, I guess I should tell you more about myself.

My name is Frank Iero. I'm seventeen years old and I can't exactly talk in front of people. No, I'm not mute, I just panic anytime I even think about talking to people. The only people I talk in front of are Mikey and my mom. I'm actually even more comfortable around Mikey, and my mom knows it. Even though I would expect her to be offended, she's just happy there's someone I could be comfortable around.

Even though I'm silent almost all the time, I've developed a reputation of being the fag of the school. It doesn't take any talking for people to think you're gay. I'd never actually told anyone-not that I could. They all just assumed, and I never denied their accusations. Mikey and my mom know I am, though, not that it matters. I doubt I'd ever half the guts to talk to anyone much less have a relationship.

That brings me back to the guy driving the car I'm now in. Mikey's older brother, Gerard Way. I grew up with Mikey, so naturally, I grew up with Gerard. I was never as close to Gerard since even as a kid, he always kept to himself, but he was definitely an interesting guy. I remember as a kid I would just sit there and stare at him while he drew. He never complained since I was silent. We had a silent relationship-if it could be called that-when we were younger. We would just sit there, silently. He never cared that I was silent and I liked that. That was two years ago. Now, he can't even stand to be around me. If I try and watch him draw, he gets up and leaves to another room. I never understood why he suddenly pulled away from me, but I didn't blame him. It must get annoying to have to sit with a guy who did nothing but stare and not say a damn word.

While I was reminiscing, I'd zoned out and began to stare at Gerard. He hadn't changed much over the years, except for losing some weight, but that came with all the smoking and caffeine he consumed. He was unnaturally pale, kind of like me, but definitely paler. He had beautiful hazel eyes that looked undeniably green in the sun. Did I just say beautiful? I blushed at the thought, and he caught my eyes in the rearview mirror. I quickly looked down at my hands that were in my lap. When I looked up, his eyes were on the road.

The rest of the car ride was silent. They always were. Mikey never talked to me when people were around because he knew how awkward I would feel not being able to say anything. He was always considerate like that. We finally reached the Way household and I hopped out of the car, a little late because I had zoned out and not noticed we had arrived. Mikey had already jumped out of the car and ran towards the door, saying something about his bladder being ready to implode.

I hopped out of the car and walked towards the front door. I was stopped by someone taking hold of my arm. I knew that there was no one else there but me and Gerard, but there was no way he would stop me. He would hardly even look at me. But sure enough, when I turned around, it was him that had a hold of my arm. As soon as this was confirmed, I felt a shiver run down my spine.

Gerard took a step closer to me and tilted his head, his eyes focused on something. I gasped slightly when his hand came up to my neck. He ran his thumb down the front of my neck, right over my Adams apple and all I could do was stand there, my knees feeling absolutely weak and ready to give out beneath me. Why the fuck am I freaking out? I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply to calm myself down. My nostrils were filled with the familiar smell of cigarettes and coffee and I loved it.

"What happened?" he asked, causing my eyes to snap open. I couldn't remember the last time Gerard talked to me. I was shocked and pleased, but he should still know he wouldn't get an answer. All I could do was shrug, so I did.

"Right," he sighed, pulling his hand away from my neck and I immediately missed the warmth there. "It looks like you're gonna get a bruise there, so, yeah, you should take care of that..."

I brought my hand to my neck, having forgotten about the jock's tight grip there.
Gerard was still standing in front of me and staring. It made me feel nervous and self-conscious. His brows were furrowed like he was waiting for me to say something, but really, did he forget I didn't talk? He should already know this. But his eyes were persistent. I finally pulled away from his gaze and looked down at the ground.

He sighed again, sounding heavily disappointed, but I couldn't understand why. "Of course," he muttered, walking past me and into the house.

I stood there, still relishing in those moments. Gerard hadn't talked to me or approached me or even acknowledged me for two years. I was never offended by it, but I was always curious why, but of course I couldn't tell him that. Now I was curious why he felt like talking to me again. I didn't want to question it, because I was glad. I was even excited to maybe have those moments of Gerard drawing and me staring. My heart sped up with the thought. I shouldn't be that excited by this. Why would I be? Ah, who the fuck am I kidding? Even back then, I knew I liked Gerard, but pushed the thought away because I knew nothing could ever happen. I was in denial about it, but there was no denying that just the presence of Gerard was enough to excite me. And I had a feeling-and I was hoping-that there would be a lot more of him.