Haiku | By : RangerPrincess Category: My Chemical Romance > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1054 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of My Chemical Romance. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Haiku
Rating: NC17
Pairing/Band: Mikey/Frank (Secretly my favorite pairing in MCR slash. But keep that hush hush now) >:) and short appearances by Quinn from The Used.
Summary: Infatuation is a strong and unpredictable emotion. It’s the one sin that’s driven by lust and it can lead you to unexpected consequences and control and handicap the way you think and act. It’s a dominating feeling that leaves you unaware and ignorant towards the true and genuine feelings that are actually more worthy of your heart. It’s mischievous and can take hold of what’s most important to you without even giving your acknowledgement any sense of awareness. The consequential conclusion that you will probably end up with is never a good one. You will end up breaking someone’s heart and karma will catch up to you, and break yours as well. Don’t ever let infatuation grow into something more than the petty and manipulative scum it already is, because love is always just as deadly.
Notes: I started this story two years ago and never got around to finishing it. Well, with the help of my good friends, I managed to get parts I, II, and III completed. I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it. This is a song-fic. It’s based on Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been by Relient K. This story is also told from Mikey’s point of view.
Warnings: M/M sex, underage drinking, angst/depression, and suicide. If any of those things listed offends, bothers, or makes you feel uncomfortable in any way possible then do not read anywhere beyond here, kiddos.
**
I watched the proverbial sunrise,
Coming up over the pacific.
And you might think I’m losing my mind,
But I will shy away from the specifics…
**
My eyes are dragging down to my lower lids; I can barely keep them open. But I’m afraid to close them…I’m afraid that I’ll see his face fresh in my mind, just like the first time I saw him. And that vision is just as clear as ever, except it’s not welcomed into my mind as much as I want it to be. I’m trying my hardest to block it out, but all I can do is remember. My pupils are widened and my eyes stay sore and burning as I continue my effort to not shut them. Their lightly stained red color isn’t wearing out, and even though I have my glasses on it’s still hard to make out what’s right in front of me.
I haven’t slept or gone down to the auditorium for food in days. People are starting to worry. They’re saying that the whole scenario was never my fault in the first place, that I couldn’t have possibly stopped it, but the only person liable enough to blame is myself.
I’m lying on my bed and staring up at the ceiling, fishing for a thought completely irrelevant to something that my mind is forcing me to think of. But I’m failing desperately and it’s pathetic that I can’t even control my own conscience.
It was about two months ago…
I hate to recall it but it’s still so new in my memory and it’s planted so deep in brain that it’s hard for me to think in a straight line sometimes.
I remember I was walking to my second period class. I always hated second period because second period was Trigonometry and I loathed all types of math. I remember feeling so dreaded because I didn’t do my homework due to the lack of comprehension and I wasn’t really looking forward to receiving another scolding from my teacher. And while I was caught up in feeling so unfortunate, I looked up and the first thing I saw was him walking my way.
I didn’t think I’d ever seen him before, plus he had his head hanging down so it was hard to tell who he was. I wasn’t sure whether or not he could notice that there was someone walking in his direction, but I assumed that he would catch a hint by the sound of my footsteps. My acknowledgement was proven wrong when he bumped into me, his nose poking into my chest. Even though that was slightly expected I was caught by surprise and I dropped my books. He gasped with his head scrambling to look up, but his hair black hair falling in front of his face, and I still wasn’t able to see who he was. His gasp sounded strange and raspy but I guess I didn’t pay much attention to it at first. He apologized timidly and I was only a second away from reassuring him that it wasn’t a big deal but before I could even speak he kneels down, immediately trying to rearrange the accidental scattered mess. Papers that were once taken hostage in random pages of my book were randomly spread across the floor and he struggled quickly to pick them all up. I bent down too, feeling slightly sympathetic. I didn’t know who he was, so I suppose it wasn’t too weird for me to wonder why he was acting so loyal to someone he’d known nothing of.
”Hey…it’s okay…” I told him. I reached out to his and wrapped my fingers around his wrists lightly, my palms cupping the sides of his hands, hoping that he would at least calm down a little.
He nodded his head, causing his hair that was swept over his eyes to move over to the side. I must admit that he had the most interesting eyes I’ve ever seen. They were the color of honey with a tiny pinch of jade. I’d never seen eyes like that before. They were also watery, like he was crying or about to cry. Maybe that’s why his voice sounded so scratchy. I couldn’t help but to wonder what was wrong…don’t ask, I’m a naturally nosy and curious person.
I loosened my hold on his wrists and held my pile of stuff in front of me. I took them from him appreciatively and we both stood up from the floor.
I wanted to ask him why he looked so iffy but he went back to rushing down the hallway with his head down. I didn’t even get his name.
The first encounter is always the easiest for me to replay, but is always the hardest to digest. Only because it’s just a reminder of where the series of mistakes to come originated. But the one fact that made me feel a little bit better about it were the few things I remembered most about that day I bumped into him.
That was the first time I ever felt how soft his skin was. It was also the first time I took a glance at his rare and alluring eyes. And it was also the first time I caught the texture and lovely glisten that sparkled throughout the strands of his raven hair.
Every hour of that day was spent thinking about him, and I’m not someone who’s easily infatuated like that. But his mysteriousness only made him more irresistible. And I still wondered why he had that look in his eyes. He looked so upset about something and as desperate as this may’ve seemed, I also wondered if I could make things better for him. And I didn’t even know who the hell he was.
My eyes are refusing to close now, no matter how dry and tired they’re starting to feel. Once one scene replays, the whole movie unravels.
I rolled over on my stomach and reached my arm on the side of my low mattress, my hand searching blindingly under my bed. I stopped when I felt the cool smoothness against my fingertips. I retrieved the desired object and lifted it up to myself, flipping my body over on my bed again. I held it in front of my face for a second, scanning over the black letters scribbled over the front of the bottle.
Mmm…Vodka.
I haven’t taken a sip out of it yet…it’s still full.
Ugh, guilt is such a backstabbing emotion. Wouldn’t you agree?
I rolled the bottle in my hands, watching the clear liquid splashing against the walls of the glass, the little bubbles floating to the top and teasing me greatly.
I thought for a second. Is this really worth it? Is he worth such depression?
Of course he is…
He was is worth everything. It’s funny how they say a past lover isn’t worth your tears…if that’s so, then why do I still proceed with all this blame?
…And why can’t I stop crying?
Yeah it is kind of funny…
I would laugh, under different circumstances, of course.
I don’t want to think about it…maybe if I drink this, I can finally forget.
But I don’t want to forget him, but I also don’t want to continue on with this endless torture that I can’t stop myself from carrying. It’s not fair…I don’t want to choose.
I just want this hurt to end. That’s all.
I unscrewed the cap and threw it on the floor carelessly. I tipped the front of the bottle on my bottom lip and I could smell the strong scent that was burning my nostrils. I tasted the bitter flavor upon my tongue, and took a few big gulps before pulling the bottle back. I took a deep breath before licking the remaining drips off my lips. I can actually taste my breath now.
A thin watery layer is starting to form at my eyes, and my glasses are starting to fog a little.
I look at the bottle again and notice that I haven’t even drunk a lot. It still is slightly full but then I realize that it is a big bottle after all.
It’s okay though, a big bottle does well when you have a lot of sorrows to down. The aftertaste is starting to build up in my mouth and suddenly my pooled eyes are drained empty as I feel the tears running down the opposite sides of my eyes and to the bottoms of my ears.
I finally found the hidden strength to shut my eyes hard before opening them, trying to make rid of any further crying but found that I can’t stop…
And I probably won’t for a long time.
I shook my head and took a few more huge sips from the bottle. I pull it back and rest the bottom of it on my chest, holding it up with both hands. I’m glad I don’t share a dorm with anyone else. I wouldn’t want anyone to see me like this.
I thought drinking this would make things better, but I was wrong. Guilt is a backstabbing emotion. I told you so.
Instead of forgetting about everything, everything just seems so unforgettable.
I’m lightheaded and I feel so out of control. Like I’m outside of my body and watching myself like a movie, and I can’t do anything to change what I’m doing or what I’m about to do.
My thoughts are back to where they were before.
It was the day after my run in with that kid. Classes where already done and I didn’t feel like eating lunch with the crew so I decided to go back to my dorm, which is on the second floor. I passed by the library and took an occasional glance into the window of the entrance door and I saw something familiar sitting at the far end of one of the long desks.
It was him; that kid I’d seen the other day. I stopped in my tracks and turned the corner to enter the library. I walked over to where he was sitting, but he didn’t notice me because he had his head down again. He was writing on his notebook so I assumed he was doing his homework or something.
”Hey…” I whispered, knocking my knuckles on the table softly, trying to catch his attention.
He looked up and stopped writing, somewhat shocked, and turned to me.
His hair was falling over his eyes just like it was yesterday. It sort of pissed me off because his eyes are so nice to look at.
His cheeks shot with a light burst of pink from being caught off guard.
”Oh hi…” he replied simply. His voice was so coy that it could almost be masqueraded as adorable. Well…I guess it was kind of cute.
“You’re that guy I bumped into yesterday…” I pointed out. “What’s your name?”
He bit his bottom lip before he answering, “I’m Frank…Frank Iero…”
I nodded my head before giving him a smile, hoping that maybe that’d take him out of his shyness, but was proven wrong when his facial expression stayed the same. “Cool…it’s nice to meet you Frank. I’m – “
”I know who you are…” he interrupted.
That didn’t really bother me. It happens a lot.
I looked down at his notebook – not that I was being nosy – and noticed that it didn’t really look like he was doing homework anymore. He was writing in very stylized cursive handwriting…it looked like he was writing a poem. He has nice penmanship.
“I’m sorry I made you drop your stuff yesterday,” he said, completely out of nowhere, his tone remaining flat and low.
My eyes shot up from his notebook immediately to look back at him and I know he must’ve noticed that I was staring at his notebook.
”Oh don’t worry about that,’’ I assured him. “It’s all good.”
He nodded his head and turned a page in his notebook. I guess he really did catch that I was looking at it.
“So, why are you here alone?” I asked. Remember? I’m nosy.
“I’d ask you the same thing,” he said, in a voice that didn’t want to sound too smart.
I laughed, trying to lighten up this very dull moment. “My friends are down in the cafeteria eating lunch. I’m not hungry, so yeah.”
Frank sighed. “Well…I don’t have any friends.”
He shook his head a little, making his hair move out of his face. I could see his eyes more clearly now. They had the same look they had yesterday…sadness. Damn, why does he always look like that?
“You don’t have any friends?” I mirrored back. “But everyone has friends.”
“I don’t…”
That look in his eyes is so deep that I’m actually starting to feel his sadness.
”Oh come on, you have to have at least one friend at this school.”
He nodded his head no before shrugging his shoulders. “Nope. Not one.”
I looked up at the ceiling, thinking of what to say in response. “Hmm…how about I be your friend?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “You…be my friend?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“It’s just that…you’re so popular and I’m not.”
”Well, I think you’re a cool guy, so don’t worry about it okay?”
He gave in a small smile. Finally, a sign of emotion!
“Okay.”
***
TBC
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