Telegraph Avenue Kiss

"Hmmm...pink or studded?" I asked myself, biting down on the left side of my lip. I was in my room in front of my mirror holding up two belts. My favorite belt, which was a light pink, and one with metal studs covering it. Today was the first day of my senior year, and I couldn't decide whether I wanted to be thought of as goth or as gay. I didn' tcare one way or the other, because I knew I would always be different, it just doesn't matter anymore which group I was lumped with.

The pink belt slid out of my loose grip and fell to the floor with a metallic clank, while I went to work threading the studded one through the loops on my jeans. I had decided to choose that one because I knew I wouldn't get picked on for wearing it. Even myfriends friend, Mikey made fun of the pink one, which I managed to wear on most occasions. I had bought it at the beginning of the summer, and already it was tearing at the ends, a sign of how much I adored it. I liked the way it made me feel different from the other guys around here, particularly the ones that go to my school. They don't have the guts to wear a pink belt, but I do most of the time, and that sets me apart. In my perspective, at least.

I went to my closet and leaned in, going through the sea of black t-shirts until I finally settled on a well-worn Misfits one with several holes in it. I heard my mom call for me to come downstairs, so I bolted out of my room, nearly ran into the wall, and came to a stop just before the stairs. Mikey was at the bottom of them playing with his glasses. He was trying to spin them on his finger, alas, it was not going so well. He glanced up, then squinted at me, like he wasn't sure if I was there or not. He returned his glasses to their rightful spot, and his face brightened.

"Frankie!" he exclaimed, grinning. From the way he sounded you'd think that we didn't spend the whole day yesterday hanging out.

"Mikey!! Catch me!" I called out to him before jumping. He moved out of my way as I descended, and I fell on my stomach at the foot of the stairs. I let out a groan and rolled over on my back to find Mikey grinning smugly. I whined and acted like I was seriously hurt, and the grin quickly disappeared. He held out his hand to help me up, and I took it. He could easily lift my weight, since he was, like, a freaking foot taller than me, it doesn't matter that he's a bloody twig.

"Hey, you okay, Frank?" he asked, patting me on the back when I got to my feet.

"No! You didn't catch me, you ass! What if I'd broken my neck doing that, huh? Then I would be dead, and I wouldn't let you come to the funeral cause it was all your fault!" I yelled, crossing my arms across my chest. And what does he do next? No, he doesn't point out that it would have been my fault, like any normal person is apt to do. He just rolled his eyes and pushed me in the direction of my kitchen.

"Frankie, fix me breakfast." he commanded. He sat down at the kitchen table and looked at me expectantly. When two minutes went by, enough time for me to sing the words to most of Basket Case in my head, and I still hadn't budged from the spot where he'd left me, Mikey started banging his fists on the table.

"Michael, stop that." Mom said, smacking one of his hands. He stuck out his bottom lip and conjured up the saddest puppy dog face he could manage, and looked up at my mom.

"Sorry, Mom." he said. She rolled her eyes and turned her back to us, but I could tell she was grinning. She thought of Mikey as much of a son as she did me. He turned the gaze on me next.

"Fraaannkkieee! Food!" he whined. He threw his hands on the table over-dramatically and sighed.

"Michael, honey, does your mother not feed you at home?" Mom asked.

"Nope. She has to work early. Besides, you're my mom too! I'm your favorite son." he said. He stuck his tongue out at me. Mom rolled her eyes again, and set out two bowls on the table. I ran to get the Count Chocula from the cabinet, while Mikey poured milk into the bowls.

"There, Mikey. Now you can shut up." I told him, sitting down in the seat beside him. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and raised his eyebrow.

"Whatever. Hey, guess what? My brother Gerard is coming home tomorrow." he said.

"Oh, cool. I haven't seen him in a while. I should go see him tomorrow." I said. Gerard and I were never really close. He was never close to anyone besides his brother. All he ever wanted to do was sit in his room and draw, and I didn't have the patience to just sit there and watch him. But I really admired the fact that he could draw, and he even went to art school for it. At least he was attempting to get out of Newark. I still had no idea what I wanted to do other than be in a band, and honestly, how realistic is that? Everyone wants to be famous, whether they admitt it or not. Mikey finished his cereal and dumped his bowl in the sink, while I hadn't even started on mine.

"Hey, Mikey, you want this? I'm not hungry." I said. He looked at me oddly, then slid the bowl to his side of the table.

"Yeah. What's wrong? Are you nervous?" he asked. I nodded so he wouldn't ask anymore questions. But really, I could care less about school. I was more worried about the fact that I didn't know what to do after my last year at school.

"I'm not nervous about school. I already know how this year is going to play out. Bad grades, no girlfriend, and getting picked on for everything." Mikey sighed. I shrugged, knowing that he was right. It was unfair how everyone picked him out and made fun of him.