I know, I shouldn't be working on this while I have other fics to finish T_T But DON'T YOU JUDGE ME! (Ever watched My Name Is Earl? xD)

Anyway, I like it when people review. And lately on the other ones I've been looking at the traffic stats, and there are a lot more people reading them than reviewing. So, male, female or penguin, review. I even love the anonymous ones. *hint hint*

Now I'll shut up and let you enjoy the first chapter :)

Gerard was a social butterfly, to say the least.

Me? Antisocial. Look it up in the dictionary, and you'll find a picture of me.

Also, he was a straight A pupil, so the teachers loved him, too. I wasn't terrible at school, but the highest I'd ever got in my report was one A- out of C's and B's.

Honor roll student, dozens of friends, downright attractive, Gerard was everything I wanted to be.

But I wasn't. I was just Frank. Someone whose name you'd have to think twice about before making the connection, if you'd even heard of me before. And when you did, you'd wonder why that name was brought up in the first place. I was an…ex-emo, I guess. I used to cut myself because of family problems, but I eventually stopped and toughened up a little. Watching from the sidelines can make you stronger sometimes.

I watched him sitting on the grass at the other end of the yard, laughing with his "followers" (they pretty much worshiped him) and picking at his lunch. I sighed and began to fork through my salad, avoiding the chicken.

Did I mention this happens every day?

Eventually the bell rang, and I stood up, invisible in the crowd of people leaving. The rest of the day dragged through Math and Phys Ed. Shame he didn't have Gym with me. Or not- I'd probably just get jealous. The only thing I can do in life is play guitar.

I trudged along the streets of Jersey, back to my house, and opened the door, inhaling the familiar scent of home. I heard my dad scuffling around in the kitchen and went to investigate.

He looked up and smiled when I walked in, causing his eyes to crease just like mine do.

"Hey, my boy," he grinned. "How was school?"

I shrugged. "Usual. Did you hear anything from…?"

His face fell, and I regretted asking.

"No," he said quietly. "I don't think your mom is going to come home."

The day I started cutting was the day after the fight. Arguing led to screaming, screaming led to tears, and tears led to mom leaving the house. She hadn't returned since. Dad had never really been happy since then, and neither had I.

"How was your day at work?" I asked, quickly changing the subject. But I knew he was no longer in the mood for conversation.

"Fine," he mumbled, and I stood there awkwardly before muttering a few incoherent words under my breath and trotting to my room.

I pulled out my guitar and played for hours, only leaving once to eat dinner and use the bathroom.

I think I fell asleep with it in my lap.

Morning speared my eyes, and I sat up, blinking. My guitar was on the floor, and I yawned and dragged myself to the dresser, pulling out a random shirt and black skinny jeans. I lined my eyes with black- it's not eyeliner, it's guyliner, get it right- and munched down a bowl of cereal before slipping on my converse, throwing my bag over my shoulder and repeating the same process I had been doing all my life.

Tuesday and Wednesday passed without incident.

On Thursday, once again I was sitting on the grass.

Once again, I was eating lunch.

Once again, I was subconsciously staring at Gerard.

Almost as if to make me realize I was doing it, some girl walked past me, blocking my view, and tripped over my feet, stumbling and almost dropping her lunch. She glared at me before making a "humph" sound and strutting away.

I pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my head on my knees, pushing away my lunch. I didn't feel that hungry any more.

I began to watch Gerard again. Call me a stalker, but he's like my idol.

Suddenly, he stood up, and I heard him tell his friends he would be right back.

I closed my eyes and buried my face in my arms.

I didn't hear the quiet footsteps approaching me until I felt a soft tap on my shoulder and raised my head.

Oh my God. It was him. What did he want? Was I in his way or something? Why was he risking being seen with me? Why was he even here? Woah, Frank. Breathe. Calm.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Of course he cared about me. He cared about everyone. That's why everyone loved him so much.

"Define 'alright.'"

He sat down next to me. Holy cheezits, Gerard Way is sitting next to me. Me.

"You looked sad. Actually, you look sad all the time. Why?"

That made me turn my head to look at him directly. "You notice me?"

He ran his hand through his casually messy black hair that looked really, really soft, and for a moment I wanted to touch it. Then he spoke. Wait, focus. "Well, uh, is that weird?"

I shook my head frantically. "No, I just thought I was invisible."

He let his hand fall. "Not really. Well, not to me. You always look so lonely."

I shrugged. "I am. Not going to sugarcoat it."

He smiled crookedly at me, and then stood up, holding his hand down to me. "Why don't you join me?"

I stared at him in shock. "Really?"

Holy mother of God's-

"Sure. Why not?"

I took his hand, noticing how smooth his skin was- unlike my calloused guitar fingers- and let him pull me to his circle of friends.

They looked up, grinning, but didn't hide it when their faces fell and their mouths curled with distaste when they saw me.

Invisible, because hated when seen.

"You guys know Frank, right? He's in our year," Gerard announced, dropping my hand.

They all nodded stiffly, some murmuring agreement.

After receiving no invitation for me to join them, Gerard shrugged and pulled me over to a shaded corner where it was slightly less busy.

"So, what's wrong?" he asked as we sat down again.

I sighed. "Loads of family problems. Having no one to talk to about it doesn't help, either."

"You can talk to me," he murmured.

"I don't see why you'd even bother in the first place."

"But why? There's nothing wrong with you!" he exclaimed.

"There is," I assured him. "But now's not the time."

He debated it for a moment, and then slowly nodded. "Okay."

Giddy confusion. One of the stranger emotions I've felt.

Just then, the bell rang, and of course all good things end far too quickly. We stood up in synchronization and began walking back to class.

Once we parted ways, I practically skipped to math, my mind buzzing with excitement.

Even the teachers seemed nicer. Or maybe it was just my bright mood.

When I went home that afternoon, my dad had left a note saying that he had a job interview for a really important, big, fancy business, so that was a plus. He had also gone shopping, I noted as I checked the fridge. Also a plus.

And, since he was gone, I had the house to myself, so I fried some bacon and watched TV for a while before blasting Iron Maiden while doing my math homework.

I think I fell asleep on the couch, but I wouldn't realize that until morning.

The next day, my heart was pounding in anticipation. I yanked on all my favorite clothes, brushed my hair thoroughly and made sure my eyeliner- guyliner, excuse me, was perfect before heading out the door.

I sat in homeroom until the bell rang, and my stomach jumped when I realized what class was next.

Chemistry.

One of the two classes I had with Gerard.

He was usually in the middle of the room, working hard and following the directions to a T. I had a bad grade in this class because I usually just mixed stuff to see if it would explode.

This time, though, his friends were at a separate table than him, and he was working alone in the back.

I gulped, swallowing my nerves, and walked towards him. "Hey."

He looked up, and then smiled. "Hey, Frank."

"Can I join you?"

He smirked sassily. "Can you?"

I laughed. "I would hope so. May I?"

He nodded, gesturing to the seat next to him. I sat, my mind buzzing.

"What are we working on?" I asked as I put on the ridiculously large goggles.

He looked at his paper. "Um…well, we mix the thiodiglycol, marked C4H10O2S…it's the yellow one, with the benzene, marked C6H6. We need two ml of the yellow one mixed into 15 ml of the other. I'll be right back, I have to get a syringe."

I nodded and began measuring out the chemicals. The thio-whatever looked really weird. I knew it wasn't poisonous, even though the benzene was…

Reckless as I was, I grabbed it and took a drink. It tasted disgusting, and I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Gross.

Gerard returned right at the moment I screwed the cap back on. No one had seen anything. They were too busy working on their own experiments.

"Did you measure it?" he asked. I nodded.

"Right. Let's do this."

He mixed the two together and took an amount into the syringe, mixing it with a third chemical. It turned bright green and fizzed a little.

He smiled. "Awesome. You might want to write down what happened," he noted, pointing to my paper. I began scribbling down what had occurred, and answered the questions about chemical reactions.

Too soon, the bell rang, and I helped scrub out everything, sighing in relief when it was done.

"See you at lunch, then?" he asked cheerfully, putting his goggles away.

"Sure," I smiled.

A snap of the fingers and I was talking to Gerard. Eating with him at lunch.

Unexpected? Yes. Unwanted? No.