Hi. I'm Gerard. Gerard Way if you want to be precise. I'm 25 years old and I live in New Jersey with my boyfriend, Frank. Frank Iero to be precise, who is 20 years old. You'll soon come to realise I'm very precise about things. (That's if you hadn't noticed already.) And the reason behind this is because- actually, there is no reason. It's just that if I'm not precise enough, then things have a habit of not sounding or looking right. I don't just do it when I'm talking. Oh no. I do it when I'm drawing, too. Frank will tell you the same. When I draw, things have to be sketched in very precise detail. Else my work of art simply doesn't match the real life thing. It's quite tragic really. It's also quite funny if I remember back to the time Frank swore he was going to get me checked out for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Simply because I almost began slipping into some kind of convulsion when he told me to guess how tall the flower in our back yard was that i was drawing. It's not that I was shocked. I was hurt. I'm sorry but one does not simply "guess" the length of a beautiful piece of nature like that when choosing to draw it. If you "guess", it won't be precise. See my point?

"Gerard!" Frank called impatiently, coming up the stairs. "We're leaving in 5 minutes and you're nowhere near ready."

I turned around from my position on the window sill from staring into our back yard.

"I was admiring the view." I said innocently, which was a total lie. We'd lived here for the past year now and I could tell you the layout of our yard backwards whilst blindfolded. It wasn't exactly hard. You opened the sliding, glass back door and stepped out onto a pebbled footpath which ran right through the middle of the garden. Either side of the path, were two, huge areas of grass. Why on earth we picked a house with such a massive back yard is beyond me. It was all Frank's idea and I was forced to put it down to the fact he was leaning towards his feminine side or something. Back to the garden, at the very bottom was a swing/bench thing. I was visibly reluctant to have one whilst standing in the shop. Even the checkout lady found it blatantly obvious that I wasn't overly impressed in purchasing something with my money that I didn't even want. But, because I'm so damn nice, I brought it on Frank's behalf.

"Gerard." Frank sighed. He knew I was lying. That was the annoying part about Frank and was one of his less favourable aspects of his personality. I admired him in multiple ways and in many aspects, wanted to be like him. In this instance, it pissed me off for him to know I wasn't telling the truth.

I stared at him blankly. I was determined not to leave my seat.

There was no way in hell that he was dragging me out of the house to make an unnecessary trip to the doctor's surgery. So I'd had an ongoing and quite frankly, irritating cough for the past 2 weeks, so what? Every cough is meant to clear itself up eventually, right? I was dealing with it just nicely if you want my honest opinion. What was his problem? I wasn't aware that I was making it obvious that it was annoying me or anything,not as far as I know, anyway.

"You know, it could just be flu or something." I shrugged dismissively. There was a high chance that I was right. After all, it was the middle of October. I'm not right about many things, where jumping to conclusions is concerned, I mean. But when I do get an assumption right, I have a miniature celebration in my head. Who can blame me?

"Flu can kill people, Gerard." Frank replied bluntly.

Ha! And he thinks I'm the one with the problem! Seriously, he's read way too many advertisements as far as I'm concerned. People who are more at risk are asthmatics, the elderly or anyone else with any other underlying health problems. I, as a matter of fact, fit none of those three categories. I studied his face. He was tired just as much as I was. (In case you were wondering, it'd be because my cough was keeping us both awake in the middle of the night.) At this point I felt a little bad. Wait, a little? Who was I kidding?! He was trying to help me and I was throwing it all back in his face! To reiterate, I felt really bad.

Defeated, I stood up and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"You're such an asshole sometimes."' He said simply, resting his head against my chest.

"Im sorry." I began picking the annoying bits of fluff from hoodie deftly.

"Do you mean it?" He asked, looking up at me.

Dammit, Frank! You can't just look up at me like that! Just stop it! It's not appropriate! Now is certainly knot the time for puppy dog eyes like that, okay?! It's incredibly annoying!

Oh, and another thing which you've now discovered about me, is that not only do I like to be very precise, I'm also easily annoyed and find most things very annoying.

I suddenly became aware that I was just staring dumbly at him and he was still waiting for an answer.

"Yes. I mean it." I said truthfully.

He smiled, satisfied. That was more like it.

...

Doctor Harper, my usual doctor, watched me tiredly as I sat down. I say usual, I don't exactly visit this place all that often if I can help it. He was oldish. I know, that wasn't very precise of me, but I couldn't care less how old he was. His hair was snowy white along with all that annoying facial hair. I didn't dare suggest a shave wouldn't go amiss. It would be incredibly rude of me. I've said worst things in the past but let's not go there.

I sat intently while Frank did the explaining for me. He gave in detail the severities which I didn't even know about, about this cough I had. I tried multiple times to interject and say simply that it wasn't as bad as Frank was making out but I was shushed more times than I could keep up the counting for. I sighed and let him continue. Harper nodded so many times that he would have fit right in if I was to miniaturise him and sit him in the back of my car in a dog sitting position.

Finally, Harper stood up.

"Gerard, could you lift up your shirt for me? I need to listen to you're chest, is that okay?"

I refrained myself from snorting with laughter. No it wasn't okay! For the record, I don't have a problem with people touching me or anything. It's just that Harper here has made it onto my exceptions list. So basically, anyone can touch me, with the exception of Harper. He never really understood why. Honestly? Neither did I. But there was just something that I disliked about him that I couldn't put my finger on. I just had this feeling that I'd feel horribly unclean if he laid a finger on me. I turned to Frank. He gave me a look. One of his usual looks. Not a look with puppy dog eyes like last time, but a look that kinda said 'I'm pissed off with you. Do as your told.' And with that, I suddenly felt like I should have been should have been sitting in front of my dad.

I sighed heavily, reluctantly lifting the hem of my shirt up to my collarbones. Jeez, this was awful. I felt horribly exposed. My eyes quickly scanned the room to find something else to focus on other than the fact I was revealing my incredibly pale chest. It was at that point I happened to notice Harper pulling on some rubber gloves. He knew me too well by now. Except, I don't ever remember him asking if I had a latex allergy. It was a good job I didn't,else he'd have been dead for that by now. I smiled a thanks appreciatively. He wasn't all bad. Don't be mistaken, I don't hate the guy. I'm just not overly fond of him.

He took his stethoscope from around his neck and pressed it to my chest. I squirmed a tiny bit from how cold it was.

"I can warm it up for you?" He asked, removing it from my chest.

No! Oh God no, don't breath on it! It's not sanitary! I can handle how cold it is, okay? I'm not that much of a wimp! I shook my head violently.

Gerard, get a grip and stop acting like a fool. This isn't a life threatening choice. Deal with it like a man and say no.

That was me mentally scolding myself.

I shook my head again in a more calmer manner and he pressed it back to my chest.

"Just breathe normally, Gerard." He told me.

Uh, I'm pretty sure I already was breathing normally but thanks for the go ahead to continue to do so, Doc.

"Now could you breathe in for me?" He asked.

I already did just breathe in, I can't breathe in twice in a row without breathing out first!

I exhaled slowly.

"I said breath IN, Gerard." Harper repeated.

I know! I'm not stupid! But I can't physically inhale twice in a damn row without exhaling first! Okay?! Okay!

I scowled and breathed in.

"And hold your breath for me."

Jesus Christ. I held my breath. Forgive me for being slightly confused but how are you supposed to 'breathe normally' AND breathe in a specific pattern that you're being told to breathe in. Does anyone else find this impossible or just me?

"And now breathe out."

I did so. He then moved his stethoscope to my back and I repeated the same pattern of breathing again, which I was determined not to screw up this time if such a thing was possible.

"You're chest seems fairly clear,Gerard."

I heard Frank quietly sigh with relief.

"Do you smoke?" He enquired.

Does it look like I smoke? Surely you'd be able to tell of I was a smoker. Fool.

"20 a day." I lied.

"You're aware that this is probably the reason behind your cough. It-"

"He's lying." Frank interrupted him.

I thought that was quite rude. I was going to wait for him to finish explaining, THEN tell him that I was lying. Was that just as rude? Maybe.

"He doesn't smoke at all."

"I think I'm going to take a blood sample just in case." Doctor Harper added.

Think? Only think? Well if you're going to sit and think about it I'm sure I can change your mind! There's no way in hell you're puncturing my skin OR veins in any way possible with any sharp objects! Is that clear? Good!

I looked up slowly as Harper was producing a syringe from a draw. He can't have been serious. He knows I have an issue with needles, it was supposed to be in his job title to care for other people's well being's! This was certainly not caring about my well being! Maybe it was Karma for lying. I didn't mean it, I swear! Or maybe it was Karma for all the irritating things I've said in the past. I'll take them back! I'll take everything back I've ever said, okay?! Well, maybe not the part about needing a shave, cause that's just the ugly truth, not an insult.

I looked over at Frank pleadingly. He can't have been playing along with this, surely! Only an idiot would take blood from someone who's close to throwing up purely at the sight of a needle! What's wrong with people these days?!

Frank took my hand and rested it in his lap. Like that was going to work! I wanted to jump up and curl up in a ball in his lap if I'm being totally honest!

"Gerard. Get a grip." Frank whispered.

It's okay for you! You've got more tattoos than I can count! You don't know how I feel!

"Well then tell him I don't need or want a blood test." I protested quietly.

"If he thinks you need one then you're damn well having one, Gerard." He replied.

Shit. I was close to crying. I don't cry all that often but this was serious.

Harper came over and fastened the tourniquet around my bicep. It wouldn't have mattered if I'd have protested to him instead of Frank, I wasn't getting out of this situation anytime soon that's for sure.

He took my wrist and extended my arm out. I found I'd automatically been sat on my hand in an attempt to make my arm non-removable but clearly that hadn't worked.

Frank squeezed my other hand tighter and I took a huge gulp of air.

I began to sweat. My hands were sticky. My throat was dry. I was quickly becoming light headed.

I briefly wondered if bursting into tears and trying out a a huge apology for everything I've ever said to Harper would make a difference. Probably not.

"I'm nearly done now, Gerard." He assured me.

I wasn't even aware he'd started it! For a moment or two I was proud of myself. That was until I decided to turn my head to see just how much blood he had taken from me.

That was the worst mistake.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, defeatedly going to make that speech.

...

"Gerard...Gerard wake up."

I grumbled the first sound that came out of my mouth which was some mindless crap sounding something along the lines of 'hmf'.

I felt sick.

"Please? It's over, I swear."

Now, the only person who is going to beg in the cutest way possible like that is Frank.

My eyes flickered open slowly to find Frank sitting on the bed beside me. He smiled. Dammit, that was adorable.

"What the hell just happened?" I asked sleepily.

"You passed out." He replied, pouting.

Again, that was cute.

"From now on, I hate Harper. Is that clear?"

Frank giggled.

"You've said this more than once, before. I think I've got the picture."

And with that, he lay down beside me and rested his head in the crook of my neck. I reached my hand up and tangled my fingers in his hair and drifted off to sleep.