Homophobia Is Gay Just Like Frerard

I stood up on my tip toes and kissed Gerard’s lips. It was meant as a sweet goodbye peck, but ended up as a good make-out session. In which I forgot the world around me, including my mother.

It wasn’t until I heard my mother clear her throat, for probably the third time, we broke apart.

Gerard completely unembarrassed, not like me, and said, “Good morning ma’am,” he then turned to face me with those hazel orbs piercing into me before a simple a peck on the check let me know he about to depart, “bye Sugar.” He turned away and walked back to his car his hood over his precious hair in a vain attempt to protect it from the wet rain.

“Frank.” My Mom said her eyebrows too high to be humanly possible. This was what I was dreading.

The previous night at a sleep over I came out to Mikey and Gerard (my boyfriend) although one look at me and people just assume I’m gay, not very good when you live in New Jersey and I live in a pretty rough area. But trying to explain to your mother that you like in the arse and what-not are not what I can call simple, whereas telling some jock to ‘fuck off’ is, until they shove you in a locker at school…

“Frank.”

“Shit...umm… that was my boyfriend and I was going to tell you but I never did because I was worried you’d kick me onto the streets where I’ll have to became a man-whore to get some money to buy cheap food with no nutritional value what so ever,” I said, my faced screwed and I mentally prayed to a god that didn’t exist she wouldn’t kick me out.

“Frank.”

“Mom, I’m gay!” I practically screamed. It actually felt good then I remember that she would kick me, probably.

“Well I guessed that you were about a couple of years ago.” She simply replied.

“You’re not gonna kick me out onto the streets where I’ll have to became a man-whore to get some money to buy cheap food with no nutritional value what so ever?”

She simply walked away from me muttering something offensive about me under her breath and leaving my very reasonable question unanswered.

So naturally I ran after her. I crashed in to couch but at least it was a soft landing. I snuggled up to her slight frame and started to repeat my question. “You’re not gonna kick me out onto the streets where I’ll have to became a man-whore to get-”

“I’m not going to kick you out. I love you very much.” And to prove her point she kissed my forehead. I pulled a face in disgust and so did she. Why? Because Gerard thought it would be hysterical to plaster my face with foundation and put ‘discrete’ make-up on me. I wear black eyeliner most days, but today I had pink eye glitter and lip gloss (although I think gerard and I had licked most of that off kissing) and mascara. Anyway, the point is, I looked like a girl… more like a girl, especially when Mikey joined in a said I should put a skirt on. The Way brothers are a force not to be reckoned with. Plus I’m only small; it was not what I call a fair fight…

Anyway, I digress. Mom had probably got a lot of foundation on her lips and from experience it tastes like shit, unlike the lip gloss which was lovely...

“Frank, I don’t mind you being gay, but I do mind the pink glitter on your eyes and the rest of your face.”

I felt my checks turn pinker than the eye glitter. I practically ran out of the living room and to the bathroom. I splashed water on face trying to get the glitter off my face. Stupid pink glitter, fucking pink glitter, Damn glitter. I mumbled to myself childishly. Anyway finally I was glitter free.

I decided to go to my room and play my guitar. However I was easily distracted by my reflection in the mirror on the bathroom cabinet and noticed the hickey on my neck I had got from the night before…