"It's getting late… maybe I should go home now," I spoke softly. I did not want to go back to the hell that is my home, but keeping Gerard from getting home at eleven on a Friday night was a bit inconsiderate. His mom might get worried or scared or something; I'm not actually sure how moms are….

"Frank you are not going back to that man," Gerard fiercely commanded. He looked so protective of me, as if I was the young and he was the lion.

"Gerard, I have to go back sometime. It's my house…" I trailed off. I would get into even more trouble the longer I stayed away. Unfortunately, I had learned that the hard way.

"Come with me. You can spend the night at my house. My mom will not mind,"

"I don't want to intrude-"

"You aren't intruding." He insisted once again with that growl I found so attractive, yet commanding.

I then gave up and followed his footsteps towards his home in the dark shadowy night. We walked past the park in which many dead bodies had been found early in the mornings. In the late afternoons, cops would put up crime tape and investigate the scenes. In the midnight hours the victims would be robbed of their lives underneath the gloomy bridge stained red and marked with graffiti.

I was no stranger to this park. The term, "park" was not a fitting name for the area. However New Jersey is not known for its scenic family friendly playgrounds. It was a good place to just sit and think or be alone, as I was all the time. No one else would dare enter the brown-grassed terrain or asphalt sidewalks leading downwards to the underneath of the bridge except for me.

I was deep in thought when Gerard interrupted me with the melodious sounds of his deep and worrisome voice.

"Frank? You alright?"

"Uh, yeah,"

"Don't lie to me, Frank."

I stopped in my tracks and looked dead into Gerard's eyes. They were so beautiful, just like the rest of him. All I had ever wanted to do was just talk to him. I only ever wanted to tell him how I felt. I could not deny my pact to myself that I had invented all those years ago. But I looked deep into his hazels and still could not find the courage to do it.

"So, uh… this is my room," Gerard half-smirked.

We walked in the room, which happened to be in the basement. I smiled at this, thinking how perfectly it matched Gerard's personality; such a vampire. But a hot vampire. This made me grin even wider.

"What's with all the smiles?" Gerard asked skeptically, yet cheerily.

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking."

I took in Gerard's room and all its entirety. It was, by far, the coolest place I had ever laid eyes on. It was a bit messy, but it was not, by any means, filthy. The room welcomed me with posters of all my favourite bands stuck with blue putty to the black walls. The carpet was a crimson red and shaggy and soft. Gerard's bed was black-and-red plaid with fuzzy raven-coloured pillows adorning the headboard. Mounted to the wall above the bed was a bookshelf containing more comic books than I had ever seen before. The far corner had a black desk with a single lamp and scattered coloured pencils and acrylics. I noticed sketchbooks and loose papers laying all over the room. In the other corner, I spotted two beanbag chairs; one black and the other maroon, with a large white lamp in the shape of a chess piece.

I stood there just grinning at the essence of them all. Gerard's room was perfect and it reflected him in every way. I still could not believe that I was standing there… in Gerard Way's room. It was a feeling of pure happiness that is quite indescribable.

"You like it?" he asked, sounding a bit unsure. His feet were pigeon-toed on the floor and his hair was drooping over his eyes, hiding his perfect face. If I could have, I would have just kissed him right then and there, but I still could not find the courage.

"I love it," I genuinely smiled. It was true, I loved everything about it.

A couple minutes passed and we had just been aimlessly chatting on Gerard's bed. He then announced that he would go take a shower and to make myself at home until his return.

Curiosity got the best of me, and I walked over to Gerard's desk. There were papers strewn everywhere. I saw some poetry and paintings and sketches all lying out randomly over the surface. I grabbed a few papers and went to sit back down on the bed. The bed was one of my favourite places in his room. Not because of dirty-minded ideas, but because I could smell his scent strongly in the fabrics. It was comforting engulfing myself in him, in a sense.

The works I looked through were simply stunning. I saw perfect depictions of ghosts and vampires casting darkness and purity all at once. There were songs filled with sorrow and anguish that portrayed an element of beauty that I could not think to describe. Each paint's stroke stood out and each word danced on the tip of my tongue delightedly.

There was, however, one work that caught my eye. The painting was in a scheme of velvets, blacks, and purples. There was a figure, a little girl, with smeared eyeliner and spunky black hair. She reminded me a lot of Gerard, as she resembled him and his beauty. She looked scared, however, and she was sitting upright in a glistening coffin. Up to her head she held a metallic gun. My eyes traveled to the top of the page. Written in shaky, lavender, capital letters I read, "Leave a pretty corpse. Die Young."

The words stung me. I knew that Gerard had not just thought of these creations. It takes experience to create such works showing real pain and truth. All the sudden realization hit me like one hundred pounds of bricks. I wish I knew more about Gerard; his suffering and pain. I needed to know what was wrong so that I could attempt to protect him, as it was made my sworn duty.

Time ticked by and Gerard was still not back. I noticed that it had not actually been that long at all; only ten minutes perhaps. Once again, I grew curious and went around the room to see if I could discover anything else.

I decided not to look through any more of the artwork, as it was probably private and I had already peeked at some. Most of the items in the room were comic books and compact discs and I soon grew bored of searching. However, after I collapsed on Gerard's bed, I noticed something suspicious.

On the left side of Gerard's bed, there was a nightstand. It looked plain as could be just resting in its place, but I noticed that on the side of the square-shaped stand closest to the bed, there was a door. I wondered why anyone would need a door on the side of a bedside table when I realized that whatever was inside was meant to be kept a secret. This, of course, compelled me to figure out the contents of the table.

I tried to pull the latch open, but noticed a small silver lock such as one kept on a diary, but a bit larger and stronger. As a child, I remembered keeping a diary and I would always keep the key inside a little glass figure that resembled a turtle. However, if you pulled on the turtle's shell, you would find that it would open up to a sort-of secret hiding place that was perfect for my purposes.

I searched Gerard's room for a device similar to this and noticed a little bat figure on one of his shelves, halfway hidden behind comic books. I lunged for the bat and tugged on its right wing to discover that it was, indeed, the same concept as my turtle figure.

Using the key I had found in the bat, I unlocked the small lock and set it on the top of the table. I was a bit worried as to what I would find. It was obviously something that Gerard did not want anyone else to see. Negative thoughts invaded my brain, but I knew that I had to see or my curiosity could eat me alive.

Slowly, I creaked open the secret door to reveal its contents. Once fully open, light from the small ceiling lamp filed inside the now-open insides of the table. I ducked down the height of the table to look inside.

What I found was an entire nightstand filled with bottles of… booze?