The Scream Team

Mikey’s begging gaze followed him all the way home and while trying really hard not to make it obvious to the others in any way, his mind was working overtime imagining all the possible scenarios. Would the kid tell his big brother about his outburst and lack of affection towards him? Would Mikey tell him just how ruthless he sounded? Would he then conclude that he, his best friend didn’t care anymore?

Matt left the boys in his living room and locked himself inside his bedroom for just a few quick moments of peace. He couldn’t risk having them see him in this state. Out of all times, not now at least. His chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm and his eyes glazed over the very second the door closed behind him. The darkness of his room seemed welcoming and familiar.

The musky smell of his sweat filled his nostrils as he tugged on his dirty t-shirt to take it off and lie down onto the unmade bed. The cooling touch of linen against his hot skin sent shivers down his spine and caused that familiar tingling in his groin. Matt’s lips curved into a forced smile. Everything would be okay, as long as they stuck together, as long as Gerard was there, it had to be.

“Thanks for the cigarettes, Matt.”

The addressed boy sat up abruptly and peered into the darkness, his warm, brown eyes colliding with a flaring cigarette-tip. Sweat glistened on the boy’s chest and the smoker’s eyes glimmered curiously, their golden color suddenly radiating a sort of coldness which frightened him.

“Gee—I thought you were… You know,” Matt just couldn’t bring himself to saying it out loud, “at Jared’s place. Working.” He cringed in the dark.

The mattress sunk where Gerard had sat next to him, his pallid face now only inches away from his. Matt struggled to keep his breathing steady now, afraid of whatever fit his friend could throw. The smell of nicotine and blueberries he had distinctly known as Gerard’s had made its way into his nostrils. His friend, older by only a couple of weeks, laid his hand against his cheek. Matt closed his eyes.

Gerard’s whole frame shook as he struggled not to crumble. Things have been hard on him lately. The whole town became weird. Actually, it had always been weird… But it had never manifested until now, it, whatever that was. People turned into fucking zombies, he’d always say, children gone missing, friendships falling apart, lovers turning into enemies, lovers dying. He closed his eyes and smashed his cigarette with his fist, wincing as the embers attacked his flesh. He studied Matt’s handsome features with the ice thawing from his eyes. This was wrong. He shouldn’t have thrown them all away. But what if that was the only right thing to do?

“Matt,” he sighed softly and let his hand slide down onto the boy’s sweaty chest, “I’m sorry.” His train of thought jumped out of the racks right there. His lips moved but they stopped forming words. A mute wail and a suction of air was all to be heard while laughter echoed from the other side of the door.

And Matt didn’t expect it. He had never even seen it coming. He would have expected his friend slapping him, hissing at him, denying any sort of emotion he might have felt, but not this. Gerard’s forehead rested against his shoulder, so cold against his skin. Without thinking Matt let his fingers rake through his friend’s silky, black hair and then slide down to unfold Gerard’s cramped fingers, watching the faded ash hitting the carpeted floor with a mix of worry and apathy. His lips leant against the other boy’s temple affectionately.

“I’m just worried, Gee.” Matt dared to whisper. “That man… That whole place is bad fucking news and you know it.”

Gerard’s head moved and soon the boy was facing his older friend in the gloom of the oncoming night. Matt’s dark eyes searched for something on Gerard’s face, a glint of realization, something to convince him his words weren’t falling on deaf ears.

Gerard sighed softly and the two bodies detached with those two inches that kept them apart turning into an abyss. He wasn’t about to drop the job just because he asked him to. Gerard was a big boy, he knew the risks, and even if he tried to tell him, Matt would never understand. Jealousy was already getting the better of him, he didn’t need to see him to know it. That was Matt, no matter how much he loved him.

“I can’t,” and the golden-eyed boy fell silent for a mere moment, trying to compose a coherent sentence, “I honestly can’t, Matt. I can’t stop now, if I stop I’ll start thinking and if I start thinking…”

It seemed to Matt like Gerard was aging right there in front of his eyes. His eyes lost their shine in the smothering dark and the room started to shrink, the walls drew closer as his pillar of support kept corroding slowly, bit by bit, day by day. Matt’s hands flew to grasp Gerard’s tightly.

“I know it’s been bothering you. I can’t sleep at nights anymore, Gee, I—But you crossed the line. You’re abandoning us now… Even your silly baby brother gets it now.”

“Don’t you drag Mikey into this… mess!”

Gerard gritted his teeth, detaching himself from his childhood friend once more.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Matt!”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?! That’s the only thing you emotionally respond to! You’re keeping secrets again, Gerard! You know what happened the last time you’ve kept secrets. The last time I kept them. Wanna go through that again?”

Just… Matt wasn’t so sure about those things ever being over in the first place, so how could they possibly start again?

Gerard raised his hands and shook his head, jumping out into the night through the bedroom window. A thud exploded inside Matt’s mind as his best friend’s feet hit the hard surface and melted into a heavy, furious step.

He paced to the door and went out into the cramped living room where his kid sister lay sprawled on the couch, the four-year-old’s face serene with sleep, head resting on Frank’s knee. The fourteen-year-old glanced at Matt with dull eyes, the rest around him asleep. His eyes went back to the flickering TV screen. The bottles of all possible liquor remained in Matt’s backpack, unopened.

“I’m leaving now.”

Frank slid out from under the little girl and proceeded to the front door, casting a hesitant look in Matt’s direction. The shirtless Latino wore a wristband where the inked skin was supposed to be. Frank averted his gaze and muttered goodbye, closing the door quietly on his way out. Something was terribly off with that kid.

But Matt just couldn’t worry about that right now.

The humidity made breathing an arduous task for Frank Anthony Iero, the fourteen-year-old and one of the youngest among his friends. THE youngest, if one was to be precise – and the shortest. The scrawny boy was slowly making his way to an empty home, biting into his rosy lip and toying with his olive-green hoodie, until he finally tied it around his petite waist.

There were feelings milling around in that boy’s heart and thoughts, thoughts creeping about that boy’s mind, things boys his age, no, boys in general shouldn’t even think about. Such ideas… Frank’s lower lip trembled for a split second when he thought back to all the times he’d been having those ideas today. God was against it, the Church – what would father Stone say about that… that is, if he ever decided to enter the confessional and spill his guts. And his parents, dear Lord have mercy, his parents would send him off to military school in record time! Frank’s hand flew to his hair instinctively, tugging on it with a sort of a vain affection.

It was no good, keeping secrets in this town. People with secrets were crooked, two faced liars and they would all go to straight to hell for keeping them. That was what his parents would always say, and in the town of Belleville, that usually was the case.

The boy shrugged and emptied his mind – like they would ever find out, anyway. He was just going to have to suck it up and move on, maybe he’ll change, over the time… who knew?

Wishful thinking, you fucking pussy.

Frank rolled his eyes and took a turn for his street, bumping into something tall and black-clad which sent him flying onto the ground, his ass virtually leaving skid-marks across the worn down concrete pavement. He wasn’t even aware of the fact that he’d been running.

“Where’s the fire, shortstuff?”

“Eh…”

Frank scratched his the back of his head awkwardly and took the hand offered to him by none other than Gerard Way, the person whose shadow he’d seen crawling into Matt’s bedroom as he’d gone out for a secret smoke on the back porch (did it count as a secret if his friends knew, but parents not?). Mikey would always choke on that shit. He always wondered if the friendship between the two had ever grown out into something more, perhaps even secretly wanted for it to happen, but from a completely selfish reason. That was the week he spent almost every evening in church, praying for absolution for such secretive, impure thoughts.

The older teen observed the little mess before him with interest and amusement. Frank was always such a ditz, the heart and soul of their little circle of friends. His religiousness was often mocked of and the good Lordie up there knew he had been teasing him too, but Gerard actually liked him a bit more because of it. Because of that commitment and belief that one day, they’d all walk in the light and never feel this burden again. It was comforting, knowing you’d be saved and loved no matter what. He wished – Ah, crap that was all a bunch of bull anyway. Salvation? For himself? Sure, as soon as Hell froze over.

“I was just… I’m late for dinner, again.”

“Need company for these ten yards you have left?”

“Sure.”

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