This is my first Frerard story, so be kind. None of this ever happened, I do not own any character etc etc.

All Of My Chapter Titles Are Based On Song Names You Can Look Up The Songs On Youtube. This Week's Chapter Is Based On The Song- "Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay" by Otis Redding

If You Listen To The Lyrics, You Will Hopefully Understand Why I Named This Chapter After It.

Tumblr: KobraPartyGhoul

And

My Beta's Tumblr: holygaskarthonatricycle

Please Review! This story WILL continue, this is one of many chapters! I will update soon. If you follow me on tumblr you will get told exactly when I am posting the next chapter! Thanks for reading :D

I Can't Always Just Forget Him

Chapter One:

Looks Like Nothing's Gonna Change

Gerard slowly opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings. The world looks so bleak today, the sky is grey and there's almost no light coming in through the windows. He lies in bed for a while debating whether he should get up or not. His head is pounding and his vision is blurry like he's suffering from a massive hangover, but he's pretty sure he didn't go out last night. With a heavy sigh, Gerard sits up, wipes his hair away from his face and kicks the covers off. It's another good minute before he even stands up to get ready for the day. Gerard's pretty used to being depressed, but today is different, he doesn't feel sad, just...empty, like something's missing. He stumbles into the bathroom, brushes his teeth, takes a quick shower, and finds some clothes that don't smell like something's growing on them.

By the time he makes it outside to his car, it's only eight o' clock. Gerard never wakes up this early and it makes him wonder what it is about this day that is making everything so different from the last. He fumbles for his keys in his pocket and only ends up dropping them on the ground, causing him to look down and see the huge dent some asshole left in the side of his car.

"Great, just what I fucking needed," he sighs.

He looks around and notices the car to his right has some major damage to the front bumper. There's no doubt in this mind that this is the car that belongs to the prick who damaged his own Subaru. He reaches into his black messenger bag, rips out a piece of paper from his sketchbook, scribbles a quick "Thank You!",and puts it under the car's windshield wiper before getting into his crippled car and driving off.

Gerard makes it to the train station just before he's supposed to be there. Looking around, he sees hundreds of people bundled up in coats and carrying briefcases, all wearing the same grim expression on their faces. They're probably just pissed off they have to work on Valentine's Day. Gerard's never given a shit about the holiday, and not just because he's never had someone to spend it with. However, he's pretty sure greeting card companies invented the day of romance just to make people like him feel like crap for being alone. He looks around the terminal and realizes how badly he wants to escape the dull routine he's got going on. Without thinking, he turns around and runs to the other side of the station, where the last train set to leave for Jersey is about to close its doors.

After the hour-long ride it takes to get from Penn Station to Jersey Avenue, it's snowing and the day looks even more depressing. He spots a payphone and thinks he better call his work before he gets in big trouble for skipping the day.

"Gabe? Hey, I'm not gonna be able to make it in today, I'm sick," he lies while trying to cover the mouthpiece so he can be heard over the wind.

"Oh man, really? What's wrong?" Gabe sounds disbelieving, as he should.

"Food poisoning. I would've called earlier but I haven't stopped throwing up all morning, I should be better by tomorrow."

Gabe tells him to get rest and that he better be in tomorrow morning. Gerard scoffs and hangs up the phone before catching a taxi to the beach. He doesn't know why he picked the coldest day of the fucking year to take a leisurely stroll on the shore, but he folds his arms around himself and braves the biting weather. Once he's bored with the scenery, Gerard sits on a rock and pulls out his sketchbook, there's some pages ripped out. He doesn't really remember doing that, but, whatever, he's done worse things without remembering them.

January 13, 2005.

I skipped work today and took the train down to Jersey. It's cold, the sky is grey. I don't know what else to write. Nothing ever happens. Nothing ever changes. I saw Bert last night. We had sex. It's weird how we can fall back into the old familiar sex life so easily, like no time has passed. After two years apart, we're suddenly talking about getting back together again. Guess that's good.

Gerard closes his sketchbook and looks up at the grey, now cloudy, sky. As he's looking around the beach, he spots a figure walking along the shore in a red hoodie. It's almost as if the person is walking towards him. He can't help but to think how much the figure stands out against the grey backdrop. As the figure gets closer, Gerard opens up his sketchbook and pretends to write again, hoping he'll be left alone. After a few minutes, no one comes to bother him and he sees the figure walking in the opposite direction, stopping to stare at the ocean. He realizes it's a man, he actually thought it was a woman or a small kid from how short the guy was. Gerard looks back down at his sketchbook and actually begins writing again.

It's as if I'm completely incapable of making eye-contact with someone I don't know. I guess I better get back with Bert after all.

Gerard closes his sketchbook and packs it away in his bag and goes back down to the shore. He finds a stick and starts digging in the sand with it. "Sand is overrated," he thinks before tossing the stick into the ocean and heading up towards the diner.