I'll End This Direst

If it weren't for the cliché that in order to get a good job these days, you have to go to college, I don't think that I would've gone. I wasn't one for going out and partying all night or spending two, three hours a day in a classroom, especially if what I wanted to do in life had no set coursed devoted to it whatsoever.

All that I wanted to do with my life was be in a band. I wanted to play guitar, and I wanted to tour and travel the world. I wanted to, as everyone had always said, "be a rock star". I already had my band put together. It consisted of me and my friends Bob and Ray. However, when the end of August rolled around, I got whisked off to a small liberal arts college in rural Pennsylvania. The campus was literally only about ten minutes long if you walked the whole distance, and there were only a couple hundred kids, most of which were girls.

This really sucked for me, because I was gay. Yes, there were some gay guys there, but the cutest one that was in my Performing Arts class had already had a boyfriend (who was really ugly, by the way. I would be willing to admit if this guy was hot, and believe me, he wasn't).

Anyway, I could remember getting on the phone after my first month there and yelling at my Mother for making me go to college. There were no courses there that had what I wanted to go for, so I wouldn't even have a major to declare during my Sophomore year.

"Take a Performing Arts major, Frank," my Mother had said. "Aren't you already in a Performing Arts class?"

"Yeah," I had said, "and I hate it."

It was true. I really did hate my Performing Arts class. We had a project to do almost every week, and I was the youngest one out of the whole class, so I felt pretty stupid. Performing Arts taught about acting and dancing, neither of which I was interested in. There were two professors for that class, one of which focused on theatre, the other, on dance. They both had really big egos and made sure that you concentrated on both of their subjects when you did projects.

Of course, since I was gay, most people in the class thought that I was there for dance, but that couldn't have been more wrong. I was in there for no particular reason at all, other than the fact that I needed the credits to graduate.

The only thing that I liked was that the Performing Arts people seemed to be kind of like a tight-knit family, a family in which they welcomed me into. They would always talk to me outside of class, and they were interested in what I had to say, which was a big change from high school. Even the guy that I liked wanted to hear what I had to say. If only he were single. This guy, whose name was Rich, was probably the hottest guy ever.

It was in this Performing Arts class that took place every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, that I met Brownlyn. I wouldn't say that we were best friends, but if I had to pick someone that I would even come close to considering my best friend, it would be her. She was really nice to me, and she was a Freshman, as well.

I had met her the first day of class. I told her that I loved her name, and we got into talking after that. We complained about the college together, we talked about how long that we thought it would be until the two ego-based teachers had a fall-out in the class, and just about things in general. I was sitting by myself one day at dinner, and she had come over and sat with me. We never actually hung-out outside of that, though, and I really wished that we would have.

Oh well. Who would want to hang-out with me, anyway? All I wanted to do was sit around and listen to music.

Speaking of music, they actually did offer a guitar class, but it was only for beginners. Plus, it only counted for one college credit, which didn't really do anything for me. So, I was stuck into a string of meaningless classes, one of which, was Performing Arts.

One more thing that irked the shit out of me about that class: We had to go on field trips off and sometimes on campus. That might sound somewhat interesting, right? We get to leave class to go to see some play or dance show. Wrong. These field trips went on outside of class, during our free time, mostly at night. So yes, we had to take time out of our night to get into the college van and travel to these stupid-ass events, and they weren't free, either. The cost was being added to our tuition.

The next field trip that was going to take place was to see a production of the play How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count Thy Ways, in which the acting teacher of my Performing Arts class was playing Elizabeth Barrett Browning. (What did I tell you before? Big-ass ego.) I was not looking forward to that at all, because it sounded like a stupid medieval play that I didn't want any part of. However, I had nothing better to do, and it was required, so I decided to suck it up.

"This is going to be so retarded," I said to Brownlyn as we climbed into the red college van.

"I know," she replied. "I don’t see why we have to go to these stupid things, anyway."

Rich, the guy that I would give anything to catch naked in the shower, allowed himself to get into the conversation.

"It's so they can make us miserable," he said.

I blushed, smiled and looked at my feet. Oh that voice. It was so….Gay. I loved it.

I watched his ass as he got into the van. Pure perfection.

Brownlyn nudged me playfully.

"What?" I asked, still smiling.

"Go get him," she whispered.

I blushed even more. I hadn't told anyone about my crush on Rich, and so I must have been pretty obvious in my feelings for him, at least to Brownlyn.

Oh well, it's not like I could get him, anyway. I was eighteen-years-old and had never had a boyfriend before. I had no idea what the fuck was wrong with me.

"Don't forget," said Professor Goddard, the dance-half of the two egotistical teachers from the front of the van, "have some questions ready, because at the end of the production, we will be meeting with the director, actors, including Professor Grady, the lighting person, and the art director of the play for a little Q and A session."

"Oh fuck," I mumbled to Brownlyn, "I forgot to think of questions."

"Don't worry," said Brownlyn. "I have the perfect question for you to ask that pertains to all of those people."

"What's that?" I asked.

"How does it feel to know that together, you guys have managed to put on the most boring, pointless show of all time?"

I laughed as the van started and started to move.

--

We had arrived at the small theatre in about a half-hour. We all got out and walked into the theater. The theater was all black, and it didn't even have a stage. There was just an empty space on the side of the room, and the seats were arranged in a U shape around it.

I was extremely impressed with the set. It looked like it was supposed to be the inside of the house, and the "paintings" on the wall had a very dark, Addams-family-like look to them. I liked it a lot.

Brownlyn and I actually scored seats in the very front row, although there were only about four other rows of seats in the back of us. We were able to look directly at the set.

"I did some research on this play," said Brownlyn. "It was a play written by someone who won a contest to have their play performed at this theater. The woman wanted the set to be happy and welcoming, and apparently was really upset when she found out what the set looked like."

"Hmm," I said. "I actually like the way that this looks. Maybe the play won't be so bad."

"I doubt it."

I shrugged.

"You never know," I said.

After about ten minutes, the lights went down and a light focused on the middle of the set. A woman came out and started talking about how much it meant that we all had come, because the theater needed our donations. Then she went on for about ten minutes about the history of the theater, and acknowledged the family that owned it, who were sitting in the back row. One man from that family came down on "stage" and ranted for another ten minutes about how his Grandfather loved the arts and about how they decided to start the concept of an annual contest that promoted writing of plays.

"Come the fuck on," Brownlyn whispered to me.

"I know, seriously," I whispered back. "We came here to see a show, not a lecture."

After about ten minutes, the man introduced the woman who wrote the play, and she ranted on about how Elizabeth Barrett Browning, a poet, had intrigued her for all of these years and how the play was about her and her husband meeting through a series of love poems that they had written to each other. After her five minute speech, the man who was up right before her made a big to-do about presenting her with flowers.

Then, to my utter horror, it was announced that a series of poems by the two poets were to be read. One by one, a bunch of ancient-looking poets would come up to the "stage" and read a poem by either Elizabeth, or her husband. The first woman up was a woman with shoulder-length grey hair that was pulled back into a pony-tail, and she had glasses, too.

Each of the poems were more than five minutes long, and Brownlyn eventually fell asleep. This poetry reading went on for an hour-and-a-half, after which there was a ten minute intermission.

"Shit," I said as we all went filed into the lobby, "that was so fuckin' pointless!"

"Really?" asked Brownlyn. "I wouldn't know. I fuckin' fell asleep."

I giggled.

Brownlyn and I waited in line for some drinks, but the line was too long, and we weren't anywhere near the front of the line before the intermission was over, so we had to go back into the theater.

Once everyone was in, the lights focused on the "stage" and some fat woman introduced the performance.

"Oh look, a show. That's what we came here for," I said.

Brownlyn smirked and the show started.

Guess the fuck what? The show was only a fuckin' half-hour long! That's it! The stupid preface was longer than the show itself!

I was steaming mad as all of the other public audience members filed out of the theater and our class stayed behind for what was probably going to be an equally-boring interview.

First, the director came out, and Professor Goddard conducted a question-answer session with him. The director really liked to rant about himself; He liked to praise himself, too. I was so close to raising my hand and asking what the fuckin' point was for him to include that stupid bit at the beginning.
"And now, your own Professor Grady, and the rest of the cast of the show," said the director, as the actors then came out.

A longer question-answer session went on. I didn't ask any questions at all. I was too shy. Plus, I didn't have anything positive to ask them. Brownlyn asked a few questions, though.

"And finally," said the director, "we will bring out Susan Talbot, the lighting director, and Gerard Way, the art director and set designer."

There was applause, but I didn't join in because I started whispering to Brownlyn.

"Why the fuck do they need a lighting person?" I asked as everyone else clapped. "The lights only changed once at the end and once at the beginning."

Brownlyn laughed, and by the time I had looked in front of me, my heart had stopped. There, about six feet away from me, was standing the most sexy man I had ever seen in my whole life—Sexier than Richard. He was wearing all black, had pale white skin, hazel-brownish eyes, and black hair. He looked to be about in his twenties.

I squeezed my hand onto my knee cap as my heart raced.

The director talked to Gerard first.

"Gerard," he said. "It is no secret that Sally was a bit, uh—Shocked that you had chosen to design the set like this, and I would appreciate it if you would tell this class why you picked, um, this sort of look for the set."

"Well," said Gerard (whose voice was a bit high, something that I didn't really expect), "this is the type of art and design that I am into. I like dark, twisted things, and as an artist, that's what my vision always is for any project that I work on. Um, I'll be honest, I'm not a set designer. In fact, when I was asked to do this, I thought that I was just going to be in charge of drawing the paintings on the wall, but then I found out that I would be the art-director-slash-set-designer, I guess, so I went with what I usually do. I wasn't going to um, you know, change my whole way of thinking of things for a concept like this. This was actually the most challenging thing I've ever had to work on, given the uh, time period that this is set in, and what the whole theme of it is, so…Yeah."

I was mesmerized by this man.

"Well I think that it gives like, a whole new look at the whole concept of what the play is," said Brownlyn.

Gerard looked at her and smiled.

"I liked it a lot," she continued.

Gerard smiled.

"Thank you very much," he said.

The director then started talking again. Gerard moved his eyes from her to me casually—After all, I was sitting right next to her.

Gerard kept his eyes on me a little longer than normal, though. Our eyes met for about six seconds before Gerard looked away.

I could feel my whole body turn hot and I involuntarily reached for Brownlyn's hand and squeezed it. She laughed.

"I knew you liked him," she whispered.

I let go of her hand, and continued to stare at Gerard. He was just the most beautiful human being that I had seen in my whole life. He didn't seem to care what anyone thought of his different style of work, either, something that I really admired in a man…

In a man? Jesus, Frank, this guy is like, so much older than you! He's probably married and has like, three kids or something. There's no way that he is gay, and even if he is, he would never go for someone like you.

Still, I couldn't help myself. I continued to stare at him the whole time, and, to my delight, every once in awhile, Gerard would glance at me, as well.

I smiled to myself and pictured him and I having sex in my dorm room.

"Okay, well," said Professor Goddard to the director, "there are thirteen students in this class. We will split them up and rotate, so each group will be able to walk around with the actors, Susan, Gerard, and of course, you, Jesse-"

I pressed my lips together with excitement. I just might have the chance to talk to Gerard! I smiled at the floor and looked up, only to find that Gerard was looking at me again. I quickly looked away and randomly thought of something to tell Brownlyn.

"Okay," said Professor Brownlyn, "Elsa, Twan, Justin, and Symone, you will be one group. You will go with our direc-tor, Jesse. Neil, Anthony, Richard, and Allison, you'll go with the actors. Anastasia, Evian, Jerome, and Brownlyn, you'll go with Gerard…Oh, wait. That leaves Frank. What group should he go in?"

"It's okay," said Susan. "I'll take him. I have yet to get a group of students."

"Oh, okay," said Professor Goddard. "Frank, do you mind being in a group by yourself?"

"No," I mumbled.

"Okay, good. You all will have about fifteen minutes alone with this staff member, and then we will switch. Go."

Everyone got up and started to go to the person that they were assigned to. I didn't even bother looking at Gerard, because I knew that I would eventually get my alone time with him, something that made my heart race, body turn hot, and penis get slightly hard. This was going to be amazing.

Susan and I stayed in the theater, and she showed me the box in the corner of the room that was up near the low ceiling, which was where she controlled the lights from. She taught me a bunch of technical terms, and I acted very interested. I didn't have any questions for her, so it was a bit awkward.

When that time was up, I went with Jesse, the director. Then, the Professor said, "Okay Frank, it's your turn to go with Gerard…Or is it Mr. Way?"

"Gerard is fine," said Gerard, not even looking at her, just looking at me.

I looked away shyly.

"Oh, okay," said the Professor, before walking away to instruct another group.

Gerard looked at me for a few seconds before saying, "Come with me."

"Oh I'll come with you alright," I mumbled as Gerard turned around.

Gerard looked at me.

"Did you say something?" he asked.

"Uh, no," I said, turning a deep shade of red.

Gerard smiled.

"Oh, sorry," he said.

Gerard led me out a door to the right of the "stage" and up a flight of stairs. I watched his ass as he went up them. When we reached the top, there was a small hallway, which he led me down, into this small room that looked like an artist's studio, only the light was off.

"It gets a bit bright in here," said Gerard, as we walked in. "Do you mind the big light being off?"

"No, not at all," I said, trying to hide my excitement and sound causal.

Gerard shut the door.

"Is this actually your studio?" I asked.

"No, they just gave me this room while I work here, I have my own studio back in New Jersey that I usually work from. I'm just visiting here," said Gerard, walking over to the desk.

"I'm from there, too," I said.

"Really? That's wicked rad."

Gerard shut the blind, and since it was night time, the room was pitch black before he turned on a small lamp on his desk. I wondered if he had done this with the rest of the groups.

"Come over and have a seat," said Gerard.

I walked over slowly and sat in a chair across from him. The first thing that I did once I was sitting down was look between his legs. I stared for about three seconds at the small bulge, when I realized what I was doing. I quickly turned red and looked at the floor.

Gerard chuckled slightly.

"Um, I loved your set," I mumbled, still looking at the floor.

"Thanks," said Gerard.

"You're welcome."

"Why won't you look at me, Sugar?" asked Gerard softly.

I felt his hand on my chin and he slowly lifted my head up and I looked into his beautiful eyes, which really intimidated me.

"Sorry," I said.

Gerard removed his hand from my chin. There was a small silence before he started showing me the plans for his stage, but I couldn't pay attention.

"…And then I decided to draw a picture of a giant vagina in the picture on the set," said Gerard.

"What?" I exclaimed.

Gerard laughed.

"Have you been listening to anything that I have been saying?" asked Gerard.

"Um…No," I admitted.

I couldn't lie to him.

Gerard smiled.

"Do you like art?" he asked, changing the subject a bit.

"I like to look at it," I said, "but I can't draw for my life."

"What's your major?"

"I don't know yet. My Mom made me go to college. All I really want to do is play guitar."

"Really? That's cool. My brother plays bass."

"Really?"

"Yup. He's quite good at it, too. He's looking to put a band together."

"Really?"

"Mmm-hmm."

I smiled and looked at my hands.

"Hey," said Gerard suddenly. "Why don't I help you draw a little something?"

"Huh?" I asked.

Gerard smiled.

"Stand up," he said.

I did as I was told. Gerard took me by the shoulders and stood me so that I was facing the desk. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil, and I soon felt his body against the back of mine. My heart was beating loudly.

"Are you a lefty or a righty?" he asked softly.

"Righty," I mumbled.

"Good."

Gerard put the pencil in my hand and gently took my right arm. He slid his hand down to mine and started to try to guide me so that I could draw. I stiffened up, though.

"Relax," he whispered softly into my ear.

I tried my best, and he was soon gliding my hand into drawing what seemed to be a perfect heart, and then he started doing what seemed to be an "F". At that point, my hand stiffened up again.

I could feel Gerard's breath in the back of my neck. I let out an uneasy breath myself.

"You're not relaxing," whispered Gerard.

"Kinda hard," I whispered almost inaudibly.

"What? You're a little hard?"

"No," I said, hardly able to breathe.

I felt a gentle kiss on the side of my neck. I dropped the pencil. Gerard released my hand. I turned around so I that was facing him, and he hadn't moved an inch. Our bodies were right against each other's.

We looked at each other for a few seconds. I wrapped my arms around his neck and Gerard wrapped his around my waist. We leaned our faces towards each other's and our lips touched. They started moving slowly against each other's, and I nearly fainted from kissing him. It felt so good, and I could feel, as corny as it sounds, sparks of intense electricity as we kissed.

After about thirty seconds, we stopped and looked at each other.

"How old are you?" I asked softly.

"Twenty-two," said Gerard.

"Oh."

"Please tell me you're legal."

"I am. I'm eighteen."

"Thank God."

Our lips crashed together and this time, the kiss was a bit fiercer. The pace was a lot quicker and our tongues glided along each other's. The grip that we had against each other tightened, as well.

I couldn't believe this. I was kissing this sexy man, and I had just met him. I was on a field trip with my college, supposed to be learning something, and instead I was in some poorly-lit art studio with my tongue lightly getting sucked on by this man who was four years older than me.

I gently pulled away from the kiss.

"I don't know if I should be doing this with you," I said. "I'm not one to just make-out and have sex randomly."

"Who says that we're going to have sex?" asked Gerard softly.

"No one, but after this, I might not ever see you again and I don't want to fall for you or anything because-"

"Don't you think it's a little late for that? I mean, I'm starting to fall for you already."

"You don't know me."

"But I could."

"I don't know, Gerard. You have to go back to New Jersey, don't you?"

"Well you will too, eventually. Don't you go home at all?"

"Yeah, but we might not even live near each other-"

"You don't want to be in college, right? What if I took you back with me to meet my brother? He's in a band, and he could use a guitar player. Then we could see each other all the time."

"I would love to, Gerard, but it's not that simple. I mean, I already have this semester paid with scholarships, and we just met each other…I don't know if that's going to work."

"We'll make it work."

Gerard kissed my lips and then my neck, and started kissing it gently over and over.

I moaned lightly and thought about what Gerard had said, and he was right—It already was too late. In the hour that I had known that he had existed, I had already fallen for him. My Mother said that love would creep on to me when I least expected it, and she was right. This was the last place that I would expect something like this to happen. Plus, what I felt for Gerard, unlike someone like Rich, went beyond his looks. He didn't care what anyone thought about how different he was, and I loved that. Plus, he respected my need to not jump right into sex, in fact, I don't think that sex had ever crossed his mind.

"O-Okay," I said.

Gerard stopped kissing my neck and looked at me.

"Okay what?" he asked.

"Okay, I'll leave college and go back to New Jersey with you. Where is your studio?"

"Well, I'm originally from Trenton, but just in September I relocated to Belleville because that's where Mikey lives now."

I smiled and kissed Gerard's cheek.

It seemed like Fate to me.

"That's just fuckin' perfect," I said.

I attached my lips back to his and started kissing him again.