A/N: This is probably my favorite chapter I've written so far. And to think I thought Mikey's party was going to be boring, lol. What can I say, I was inspired by a little someone. I really hope you like where the story is headed.

xo, Hailee

I held my breath as we walked into the Way house and waited for Gerard, Ray, and Mikey to get here. I was definitely nervous, and wished I had a bottle of tequila I could dive into. Instead I grabbed a handful of chips and focused on the salty taste while we waited.

Frank's scrutiny wasn't really helping me, either. He was sitting next to me on the couch, and his eyes never left me. I could hear him swallow and run a hand over the top of his short black hair, mussing it up a bit. I wasn't sure which was worse: having Frank's reaction, or waiting for Gerard's.

You know, maybe he wouldn't even react. It was possible. He'd been burned by that stupid Melody bitch, and didn't really show any signs of letting himself get so close to a girl again. Maybe Mikey and Ray were right, and I should keep my distance and try not to single out his feelings for me. I might be doing more damage than good.

Then I heard voices at the front door, and Gerard's unquestionable laugh, and the door opened. Alicia quickly bounced up from where she sat and rushed up to Mikey, and threw her arms around him. "Happy birthday, baby!" she said. The rest of us got up, too, and greeted the boys at the door.

I purposely avoided looking at Gerard. Instead, after Alicia had disentangled herself from her boyfriend, I hugged him. "Happy 16th," I whispered in his ear.

"You look like a dark faerie princess," he whispered back.

I pulled out of his hug and gave him a genuine smile. He knew just what to say to give me a boost of confidence. Faeries were awesome, beautiful, mysterious creatures. I looked pretty, he was telling me. Embrace the dress.

When the formalities in the entryway were over, we got to the party place. Mikey got a grin on his face at the comic book stuff. There were different stations with little action figures and the most popular editions of different hero stories. It was our gift from all of us, excluding our solo presents we'd gotten him.

The guys were starving, so we spend a long time eating and talking and perusing issues of the comics we'd gotten him. He said he liked the Hellboy ones the best, and Alicia admitted with a blush she'd thought of those herself, since she actually liked the story plot. Mikey kissed her, and slipped the guys the finger when they cheered him on.

After they ate, the guys decided they still had room for cake. Christa worked at a bakery, so she'd gotten someone to decorate it for him with Hellboy on it. There was no such thing as being childish when it came to what was on your birthday cake. It's your birthday; you're supposed to have fun.

My stomach was feeling a bit queasy, so I didn't get a piece. Instead, I sneaked vodka into my punch when I thought no one was looking. A party wasn't a party unless there was some booze. Well, to me. But I was a raging alcoholic. My opinion didn't count.

"Okay, present time!" Ray announced. We migrated back to the living room, where Mikey, Alicia, and Gerard sat on the couch and the rest of us sat in a circle on the ground, with our gifts in our laps. I was not an expert wrapper, so my work was absolutely shotty. But it looked like the guys didn't know anything about wrapping, either. At least I wasn't the only one.

"I'll go first," Christa said, handing him an immaculately taped package. Mikey tore into it, revealing the new video game Mikey had said he'd wanted.

"Cool!" He grinned. "Thanks, Christa. It's perfect."

Ray handed him a smaller package. And when Mikey unwrapped it, he revealed an Iron Maiden cd he'd just happen to have lost a few weeks ago. "Thanks, buddy!" he said.

Frank went next. He was giggling before he even gave Mikey his present. When he gave it to him, Mikey squinted, examining the sheet of paper. Then he frowned. "A two month subscription for Playboy magazine?"

Alicia raised an eyebrow, Christa cleared her throat, and the rest of us laughed. Mikey was turning red with embarrassment at the magazine subscription. He placed the gift on the coffee table without saying anything.

When Mikey had faded back to his white pallor, and the snickers had died down, I held up my badly wrapped gift. "Okay, my turn."

I handed it to him. In the wrappings was a $15 gift card for iTunes, and a copy of one of my favorite books I thought he would enjoy.

Mikey laughed while reading the title. "Ecstasy: Three Tales of Chemical Romance by Irvine Welsh?"

"Roslyn, what the hell did you just give my brother?" Gerard asked suspiciously.

I laughed lightly. "It's three different stories about love and drugs, and that kinda stuff. In the first book, a romance novelist finds out her husband is addicted to porn, so she and her sexually confused nurse plot revenge."

"Ooh, I like revenge stories. I might have to steal that from you, Mikey."

"No!" Mikey protested, holding the book up to his chest.

"It's fine, Gerard. I'll let you borrow my copy."

He beamed at me. "Thank you, Roslyn. Someone's learned how to share."

"Thank you," Mikey said sincerely. "It sounds like something I'd like. Now, brother, did you buy me something you're going to steal from me, or did you actually buy me a gift?"

Gerard fake laughed, and chucked Mikey's present into his lap. It was a gray beanie. "I approve. Thanks, Gee."

"Yeah, yeah," Gerard mumbled, whacking his brother in the back o his head. Mikey reciprocated the gesture by punching Gerard in the stomach. Gerard choked, but maintained his composure.

Next to Mikey on the couch, Alicia was bouncing up and down and biting her lip. "Okay!" she burst. "My turn, right?"

I chuckled at her eagerness. She sprang from her seat and ran to the Way's basement where she'd stashed his bass. When she brought it out, there was a purple bow on the base.

"No way!" Mikey sputtered, rushing over to his bass. "It's sparkly and it's a bass and oh, my God, Alicia, it's perfect."

She laughed, delighted he liked her present. "Really?"

"Yes! It's my favorite. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Then he leaned in to kiss her. It wasn't a chaste kiss, either. I detected a bit of tongue was being used. Frank muttered an "Aww" and Gerard an "Eww", but Mikey and Alicia ignored them. They were too caught up in their special moment.

I was happy for them. Really, I was. But seeing a happy couple knowing I was so hopeless when it came to my love life was making me sad. They were so young, and already they'd found love. And I was doomed. I didn't have the balls to do anything about my feelings for Gerard except wear a dress and hope he noticed something good about me.

I swallowed the wave of sadness back and forced myself to smile as Mikey and Alicia pulled out of their passionate lip lock and sat back down on the couch. Mikey had his new bass in his hands, fondling the neck and testing the feel of it out. I wasn't going to ruin Mikey's birthday with my jealousy and pathetic bad mood.

Suddenly I felt a hand on the crook of my elbow. I looked over at Frank, a question in his hazel eyes. "You're wearing a dress."

"Girls wear dresses."

"Yeah, but you're…"

"Not feminine?" I finished for him. He gave me a half smirk.

"You covered up your scars nicely," he commented, his eyes straying to my right wrist. His gaze was making me uncomfortable. I'd almost forgotten I wasn't normal, that I had scar ridden arms because I didn't want to feel anything inside but numb. Physical pain was good, memories haunting me were bad.

Frank shifted closer to me on the ground. His black clad leg was resting against my bare one. "Can I see it?" he asked.

My immediate instinct was to say no and get up from where I was, away from him. But I held my composure, even though my heard was hammering wildly in my chest. Then Frank placed a hand on my bare thigh, and looked at me with burning eyes, and I forgot how to respond.

"Please," he said quietly. "I'll be gentle."

His hand was warm on my thigh. I couldn't focus on anything else. My breath hitched in my throat.

Then I remembered how to use my voice. "I can't." My voice cracked. "Not yet," I whispered out.

Frank nodded. "It's okay. It's too soon. I'm sorry."

I just nodded. His warm hand was still placed on my thigh. Was he going to move it? I found myself wishing he would, yet also wanting him to keep it there. My mind was conflicted with what I wanted from Frank.

"Well, anyway," he started, changing the subject, "You should wear dressed more often. You look really pretty, Tinkerbelle."

He moved his hand and put it behind him on the carpet, and leaned back on it. I rolled my eyes. "Don't call me that."

"You set yourself up for it."

I already missed his hand. I couldn't remember the warmth of it, the soft way his hand felt placed on my skin. If I was sure it was Gerard I wanted, then why was I wishing Frank would put his hand back where it was? Why could I imagine his hand trailing up higher, underneath the skirt to a more private area?

Oh, shit. My head was totally screwed tonight. I needed more vodka.

Then I remembered we were at Mikey's birthday get together, and there were spying eyes around. I let their chatter drown out my thoughts. Then I heard my name and snapped my head up, focusing on the actual words being said.

"What did I do?" I blurted out.

Alicia looked at me sharply. "I was telling Mikey you've been helping me learn how to play Call of Duty."

I cleared my throat. "Right. Yeah, I have. She's not bad. You should battle her."

He didn't need any more convincing than that. They set the game up, and I excused myself to get more punch, and brought my empty plastic cup with me.

I poured the cup halfway with punch, the other half with the vodka bottle I'd discovered under the sink. It must be one of Gerard's hiding places. I didn't think it was a very imaginative place for his stash.

I took slow sips of my drink instead of gulping it down like I really wanted to. My goal wasn't to get drunk. I honestly didn't want to royally screw up Mikey's night. I just wanted to loosen up and forget the memories that were flashing in my head; memories I could certainly live without.

Someone sighed behind me, and I whipped around too fast, spilling some of my drink on my dress and on the counter. "Shit," I muttered, putting my drink down.

Gerard grabbed paper towels and handed them to me. I thanked him and wiped the juice up. "Sorry I scared you."

I shook my head. "It's okay. What's up?"

"You looked a little lost earlier. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

I glanced sideways at him, dissecting the bitterness in his words. He said lost like it was a distasteful thing. "Lost?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Yeah, lost in Frank's not so subtle touchiness."

Oh. He meant when Frank had his hand on my thigh. Great. He was pissed. He thought I was a slut. I'd worn this stupid dress trying to impress him and he threw it on my face that I was suddenly a whore. Well, he was right. I was. It's what everyone had called me at my last school after the incident with Ty. And they were right. I'd let it happen. The rumors weren't denied. I was a slut.

"Fuck. Oh, Roslyn, shit. I'm sorry. Don't cry. God, I can't believe I just made a girl cry. Smooth move, Gerard," he rambled.

I wiped a tear away, surprised to see my fingertip wet. I hadn't realized he was making me tear up.

"Look, I'm sorry, Roslyn. It's really none of my business what you and Frank are doing—"

"I'm not sleeping with him," I shot venomously. It seemed to take him aback for a second: he blinked in astonishment.

"Okay," he said slowly.

"We're just friends." I said a little more calmly.

He smiled softly. "Guys are never just friends with girls," he stated simply.

"We are," I countered back.

He raked a hand through his long black hair and sucked in a breath. "No, we're not, Ros."

He leaned close to me, like he was going to tell me a secret. Then he rubbed his lips together and backed away. He raked a hand through his hair again. "Shit," he muttered.

I still wasn't catching his drift. We were just friends. Gerard and I hadn't done anything to dispel that. Was he telling he didn't want to be friends, or what?

Then Gerard leaned close to me again. One of his hands found its way to my hip. It hugged my curves, a perfect fit, as if it were always meant to be placed there. "We're not just friends, Roslyn," he said in a low voice at my ear.

"Why not?" I breathed back.

He was silent for a beat before whispering back his answer in my ear. "Because I can't stop imagining what's underneath that sexy little dress of yours."

My mouth flew open as soon as I processed his words. My eyes grew wide. His hand left my waist and he disappeared down the hall, away from me. I stared at his retreating figure, too shocked to move or do anything at all.

Was I fucking dreaming? Did that really just happen to me, or did I just imagine that whole little exchange?

My mouth slowly closed, and I tried to regain my composure before going back in the living room. How was I supposed to sit in a room with Gerard a few feet away from me and pretend nothing just happened?

I was still incredibly stunned as I stiffly walked back to the group and sat back down on the floor. They were still playing Call of Duty, and nobody seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.

We all stayed over at the Way's house until after midnight. Around 2:30, the guys' sugar rushes were starting to crash and Mikey decided he was going to turn in. "Thank you guys for making this such an awesome day," he addressed up before trudging up the staircase to his bedroom.

Alicia, Christa, and I chatted for a few more minutes until her mom's headlight shone in the driveway, and they had to leave. Christa was spending the night at Alicia's. They had invited me over too, but I politely declined. My brain was too wracked with confusion and thought for me to peacefully spend the night over there. I said goodbye to them, and they left.

Frank said he was leaving soon after. He offered me a ride, but I told him I wanted to walk home. I could use the fresh air. He left without another word, and then it was just Gerard and I, standing in the foyer.

"Can I walk you home?" he asked me.

"Okay," I nodded.

He opened the door for me and we walked towards my house. Gravel crunched under my feet and crickets sang their songs. I shivered in the slightly chilly September night air.

Gerard shook off his Misfits hoodie and draped it across my shoulders. I smiled gratefully at him, and waited for him to say something to me as we walked.

"I totally made our friendship awkward, did I?" he blurted out of nowhere.

I laughed at him, and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Just a little, but nothing we can't get past."

"Good." He sniffed. "That was a really dumb thing for me to say earlier. First I make you cry and then I admit I think about you naked. I'm such a jerk."

"You're not a jerk," I said softly. "Just a regular guy."

Gerard made a face. "I don't want to be regular."

I didn't tell him that he was anything but regular, but I was thinking it. We were silent all the way until we reached my front door. Then he reached into his notebook I didn't know he'd been carrying and extracted something from it.

"I drew these for you," he said.

I took the drawings gingerly from his hand and looked at them. The first one was of me with my wavy hair, eyes off into the abyss. I was wearing a flowing white gown and holding a pure black rose in my hands. It was breathtaking.

The other drawing was me as an Elvin princess. My black hair hung straight and behind my pointy ears. I had a look of determination on my face, and I was holding a crossbow, getting ready to fire an arrow at my enemy. I was wearing a green princess dress. He'd written the words 'Princess Roslyn' at the bottom of the sketch.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Gerard, these are amazing," I told him sincerely.

"Ah, they're okay," he conceded.

I shook my head roughly at him. "They're better than okay. They're going on my wall."

"Do you even have room left on your wall for them?"

He brought up a good point. I wasn't entirely sure. "I'll make room for them."

He smiled sweetly, showing his dimples. "Well, goodnight, Roslyn," he said, turning away.

My hand shot out instinctively and grabbed his arm softly. "Gerard," I said.

"Yeah?"

I didn't even think about what I was saying before the words tumbled out of my mouth. "Do you want to spend the night?"

His grin got bigger. "Okay," he stated.

I let him in my house, shutting the door behind us and led him up the staircase, darkness blanketing us.

This was it; my night of taking changes and risks. No turning back now.