Make Believe - Comments

Okay well my feelings have skyrocketed into buckets of tears... I can't help but think that this was probably what it was like (minus James) when MCR split up... Frank packing his bags killed a tiny part inside of me.

This was really good. Like, really, really good. It's astonishing that this was your first piece here on Mibba (since the majority of first stories are almost always extremely terrible). But this? This didn't seem like your first story. It seemed like you were at your prime in writing.

I just... there are tears and I don't even know if I'm really making sense right now. But this was fabulous. And I recommended it to everyone to spread the fabulous.

I'm so glad someone on Mibba recommend this story to me c: it's amazing. Sad, but amazing.

HERE WE GO.

“—and Uncle Mikey will fetch you from school every day, okay buddy? You love it at Uncle Mikey’s, don’t you?”

Well that hurt like a mother fucker. Thanks.

It breaks something inside of Frank he doesn't think can ever begin to repair.

WUT. Frank. It's okay I'm crying for you. NEVER FELT SYMPATHY FOR YOU BEFORE THIS MOMENT AND IT'S SO MUCH LIKE AN AVALANCHE OF EMOTION JUST ALL AT ONCE YOU BROKE THE FLOODGATES AND I JUST FEEL SO MUCH FOR HIM AND GERARD PROBABLY THINKS HE'S DOING THE RIGHT THING BUT HE'S NOT

After so much hostility, he can't help feeling like maybe all of this is just a terrible mistake, that they can fix it, make it work, something, because this kid, this kid deserves it

It makes me sad cause he does but Frank can't fix it

Maybe it's because he knows, deep down he knows, he's fucking stupid and doesn't deserve him. Doesn't deserve them.

I'M SO DONE.

He focuses somewhere over Frank's shoulder, and Frank can't stop himself from thinking I used to love everything about you.

How do you even do that you just remind everyone that they had a whole life and that it hurt and that it's over now.

His eyes are red and flooding as he catches Frank's eye, and Frank has to look away, eyes faltering on the pictures on the mantel. All of it built from scratch, out of the dust, fell around them as they stood off against each other.
THERE ARE THE EMOTION KNIVES. THERE THEY ARE.

I’m sorry we wasted the last four years making each other miserable, Frank's mind supplies. He chokes on a sob in his throat, coughing to mask it.

STAB

“I. I’ll come get my things tomorrow.” And then. “I’m just so sorry, Gerard.”

STAB

His voice shakes. His hands shake. He aches.

STAB

“See you later, my boy.”

DEATH DEAD GONE. PLEASE DON'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT DICKS AT MY FUNERAL.