Not My Type (frerard)

a silly little chatfic i wrote on wattpad in 2017; in which gerard and frank work out their problems from the past while pete and mikey sit back in harmony. TWs for attempted suicide, mentions of child abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, self harm, and implied sexual content. the cover here is not my image; nor is it the original cover, for that would not fit the cover dimensions for movellas. this story contains crude humor that may not be suitable for all audiences. some photos may be missing from this story; in that case, i have tried my best to write around those parts or describe the photos to the best of my ability. for the best reading experience available, i suggest reading this story on wattpad instead. the themes written here do not reflect my own personal thoughts, opinions, and experiences. any similarities to real occurrences and real people (besides the people the characters are based off of, of course) are unintentional. all rights reserved.


25. 25

When Frank was released from the hospital, he was distant. According to Linda, his adoptive mother, he'd gone back to live with her.


Therapy became more intense. He got off of certain meds when it was found out that he was abusing them. Linda put sharp objects on a lockdown.


All he did, every day, was play guitar in his room. He was rusty, he'd been out of practice since high school, but Linda said he was doing great at it.


Gerard dealt with it. That's all he seemed to be doing. Holding up, doing his best. That's all.
He started writing to express his feelings, to escape them. Most of it was about Frank, and how gut wrenching it was when Gerard wondered if the boy missed him.


They officially broke up exactly one week after the hospital released Frank. Well, Frank dumped him. But Gerard was fine, he was holding up. He was always holding up.


That's all he was doing. Holding up.


His weak knees would barely hold him up as we walked. His broken heart would barely hold out enough to keep him alive.

And at the end of each day, when his legs finally gave out and he collapsed under the burning hot spray of the shower, is when he cried.


Gerard never cried in front of anyone- but Mikey. And even that was rare- and he was getting better at keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself.


But with Frank gone... He knew how Frank had felt so long ago.




Gerard couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. He finally understood how Frank felt. And he thought, I deserve this.


I was never good enough for Frank.


And out of the blue, he told Donna he quit his internship for CN. It was only dragging him down further.


"Well, what are you gonna do now?" She asked. She was shocked.


Gerard shrugged, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. "I don't know."


"I have an idea," Mikey said. "Shower first, and then think of what to do with your life."


"I shower every night," Gerard snapped.


"It doesn't count if you just sit under the sprayer and cry." Mikey was teasing, but Gerard still took offense since it was 100% true.


"I'd like to see you get a job," Gerard huffed.


"I literally just got a job at the comic store."


"Fuck off."



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