Status: Updating Weekly.
Red Rouge 53
A little silver tube.
Gerard's neck craned towards the bright blue sky above him, and he opened his mouth into a perfect "o" shape, and let out three perfectly round smoke rings, tainting the purity of his small New Jersey community with a smug look slapped on his pale face. His feet hit the warm, gum stained pavement at a fast pace, Gerard's urge to get home over ran his pudgy stature and his quickness to run out a breath faster than his own asthmatic brother. The minuscule little smirk playing at the corners of his soft, smooth jaw turned up a little more, he remembered Mikey didn't have summer break like he did because the little bastard decided comic books and corndogs were more important than his study. Gerard felt his eyebrow furrow and silently cursed his brother for putting a damper in his mood that Friday afternoon. He knew Mikey was so much smarter than what he played off to be. Countless years of living with him and never being able to hide anything going on in his life. Anytime he tried, Mikey would look at him from underneath his thick rimmed, to-wide-for-his-face glasses and then Gerard would find himself pouring his heart out to a now proud looking stick of a brother. What puzzled Gerard the most was that even though Mikey was related to the slightly chubby, pale, and un showered Gerard Arthur Way, he remained well liked and popular among the student body of Belleville high school. The concept of popularity was one Gerard never quite grasped. Not that he cared. He was quite content with stalking the school halls alone and slipping through the cracks of the system, unnoticed and barely given a second look. It had taken him all his life to build up his wall and take safety in his mind, only few people were ever let in.
Pushing the thought of Mikey and his omniscient self, he crossed the street, and almost skipped down his neighborhood with glee, if it wasn't for his belly sticking out at him. He frowned as he touched a finger to his stomach over the black, and most likely unwashed, iron maiden shirt. Gerard was pudgy in all the wrong places. Like all the twinkies he ate went Straight to his gut, not even giving him a chance to look the slightest muscular. Sighing, he reached a pale hand towards the silver knob and turned it, stepping into his house and taking in the scent of the cinnamon and apple spray his mom drowned the house in. He could taste it in his mouth and scrunched up a small, upturned nose in disgust. Glancing to the right, he heard the clock sing, signifying it was 4'o'clock. His mom wasn't due for another 3 hours. Her law firm was working on an incredibly important case and even though she had promised she'd be home more, that hope had died months ago along and was sparked with Gerard's new duties as playing mom. Cooking and cleaning and making sure Mikey brushed his teeth. Yes, he had to make sure a grown, if OVERgrown, 16 year old washed out his sugar cookie and Cheeto breath. Gerard shook his head, his black raven nest of hair fell into his eyes a little, he scanned the living room lightly and found no one was home. Gerard grinned and ran up the small flight of stairs. Breathing heavily at the top, and frowning slightly. He skidded to the too-elegant for his house bathroom door, and jerked it open. Surprised he didn't break the knob. He scanned himself attentively in the movie star like mirror, little round bulbs surrounding the reflective glass. A small surge of distaste filled his lungs and he had to choke back a frown.
"I'm fucking gross." He breathed. However, he had a quick fix to the problem. Looking into their small little cabinet above the toilet and found what he was looking for. An amused half smile playing around his pink lips.
Gently wrapping his slightly trembling , slightly sausage like, pale fingers around the bag, he plopped his mothers makeup bag down on the sink counter. Pink and lined with black frills, it was the key to ridding him of well... Him.
There's bags under his eyes and he touched a few fingers to the skin. It's soft, but thin and worn out. He was almost positive an 18 year old shouldn't have skin this run down. But all those late Nights spent reading and drawing and looking over the mens underwear section in the sunday paper took its toll. Sighing he unzipped the bag carefully. Like the contents inside are gold, and well to him, they were. Anything that could make him feel like Christina Ricci for a day was worth more than all the kings gold. Gerard snorted at his own joke, or his attempt when he noticed the blue foundation he lusted for. Wrapping a hand around the Cover girl "true match" and quickly popping the lid open. The sponge, that was painted ivory with the few times his mother had ever used the damn thing, sat against the pale powder. Begging him to pamper himself in it. Gerard, feeling nothing but the inclination to do so, promptly picked up the sponge and began lightly padding it all over his small round face. Slightly, as he caked it on, not to much, not to less, he began to feel more human. Beautiful even. He loved it when he could put on his mothers makeup. He just silently wished he had the balls to wear it at school. Not after the shit he was given for sporting eyeliner on his lower eye lids, his bruises had been prominent for weeks. But that didn't matter anymore. Considering his torture had been endured. And in his mind this was the least he deserved for 12 years of constant hell.
Examining himself in the mirror Gerard felt a sense of delight wash over him. He looked alright. Well, in his mind. It was evenly blended. No more bags, no more impurities.
Picking up a true black eyeliner, he rubbed some of the coal on the outer edges of his olive eyes. Them, glinting as the black popped against them. After almost poking his eye out, he had figured that was enough. Smiling seductively to himself, he felt proud. Overcome with a great sense of relief that he didn't look like a Twinkie loving junkie anymore. He was still pudgy. But at least his face was decent. After staring at his own reflection, studying every crease, every little curve of his frown lines that the powder barely managed to cover, he began to zip up the bag. Feeling quite content and slightly guilty for wasting his mothers makeup. But hell, she hardly ever used it herself. Let alone attained a situation where makeup would permit. Granted, Gerard hadn't had one either, but for the reason of wanting to feel beautiful. Lost in thought he came back from stuffing the overflowing Lacey pink bag inside the cabinet and spotted a sliver tube glinting underneath the sink. A frown crept it's way onto his figure, bending over to pick it up, he discovered he must've let a tube of his mothers lipstick out. Red rouge 53 he read. Gerard scoffed at how unoriginal the name was. Red rouge? Seriously? Because saying it in French totally made a difference. The lipstick easily opened with a airy pop, and Gerard surveyed the color. It was beautiful. The kind of red where it looks like someone had just gotten out of a passionate bloody kiss. He suddenly wanted to try it. Wear it. Lick it. Kiss someone with it. Well, he could do about 3 of those. Cutting out the last option. A slight roll of his index and middle finger slid the color out of it's shell even more. And suddenly Gerard found it at his lips. Smoothing onto to the already pink skin. Layering it own, he capped it again and stood back. Some of the lipstick had gotten on his teeth and he frowned, snatching up a napkin and squeaking his tooth clean. It actually didn't look half bad. And some of that may have gotten to Gerard's head. Pondering wether or not to step outside with it on, he began making slight kissy faces with himself at the mirror. Admiring how it really brought his look together. Made his eyes pop If you will. Then in the middle of a tongue flick he heard the bathroom door fling open and saw Mikey, along with a mysterious; yet rather short, character along with him.
"Gee what the fuck." Uttered Mikey. Standing bone legged and Looking completely confused but yet had a slight amusement playing around his mouth and eyebrows.
"Take that shit off before mom gets home and gets pissed because you were making kissy faces with her favorite lipstick and come down to the basement with us." Mikey turned a cheek at Gerard and started down the stairwell. Still seeming completely unbothered by the fact that his brother had been parading around in his bathroom in his mothers best lipstick.
But what caught Gerard's attention was that the short figure hidden in the stairwells shadows crept forward and out into the light. If Gerard hadn't been looking like a deer in headlights he might've blushed at his beauty.
"Hi, I'm frank. And I think that color really suits your eyes."
Promptly following mikey down the basement, they left Gerard standing in the bathroom, lipstick tube in hand, and a puzzled look on his painted face over what the incredibly hot new friend of his brother had said. Even the sheer embarrassment couldn't snap Gerard's mind from swimming in the compliment and judging wether he meant it or not.
Mindlessly reaching for a napkin and kissing away the lipstick, he tossed the evidence and nervously trudged down to the basement, to Mikey, and that frank fellow with the little hazel orbs.
Pushing the thought of Mikey and his omniscient self, he crossed the street, and almost skipped down his neighborhood with glee, if it wasn't for his belly sticking out at him. He frowned as he touched a finger to his stomach over the black, and most likely unwashed, iron maiden shirt. Gerard was pudgy in all the wrong places. Like all the twinkies he ate went Straight to his gut, not even giving him a chance to look the slightest muscular. Sighing, he reached a pale hand towards the silver knob and turned it, stepping into his house and taking in the scent of the cinnamon and apple spray his mom drowned the house in. He could taste it in his mouth and scrunched up a small, upturned nose in disgust. Glancing to the right, he heard the clock sing, signifying it was 4'o'clock. His mom wasn't due for another 3 hours. Her law firm was working on an incredibly important case and even though she had promised she'd be home more, that hope had died months ago along and was sparked with Gerard's new duties as playing mom. Cooking and cleaning and making sure Mikey brushed his teeth. Yes, he had to make sure a grown, if OVERgrown, 16 year old washed out his sugar cookie and Cheeto breath. Gerard shook his head, his black raven nest of hair fell into his eyes a little, he scanned the living room lightly and found no one was home. Gerard grinned and ran up the small flight of stairs. Breathing heavily at the top, and frowning slightly. He skidded to the too-elegant for his house bathroom door, and jerked it open. Surprised he didn't break the knob. He scanned himself attentively in the movie star like mirror, little round bulbs surrounding the reflective glass. A small surge of distaste filled his lungs and he had to choke back a frown.
"I'm fucking gross." He breathed. However, he had a quick fix to the problem. Looking into their small little cabinet above the toilet and found what he was looking for. An amused half smile playing around his pink lips.
Gently wrapping his slightly trembling , slightly sausage like, pale fingers around the bag, he plopped his mothers makeup bag down on the sink counter. Pink and lined with black frills, it was the key to ridding him of well... Him.
There's bags under his eyes and he touched a few fingers to the skin. It's soft, but thin and worn out. He was almost positive an 18 year old shouldn't have skin this run down. But all those late Nights spent reading and drawing and looking over the mens underwear section in the sunday paper took its toll. Sighing he unzipped the bag carefully. Like the contents inside are gold, and well to him, they were. Anything that could make him feel like Christina Ricci for a day was worth more than all the kings gold. Gerard snorted at his own joke, or his attempt when he noticed the blue foundation he lusted for. Wrapping a hand around the Cover girl "true match" and quickly popping the lid open. The sponge, that was painted ivory with the few times his mother had ever used the damn thing, sat against the pale powder. Begging him to pamper himself in it. Gerard, feeling nothing but the inclination to do so, promptly picked up the sponge and began lightly padding it all over his small round face. Slightly, as he caked it on, not to much, not to less, he began to feel more human. Beautiful even. He loved it when he could put on his mothers makeup. He just silently wished he had the balls to wear it at school. Not after the shit he was given for sporting eyeliner on his lower eye lids, his bruises had been prominent for weeks. But that didn't matter anymore. Considering his torture had been endured. And in his mind this was the least he deserved for 12 years of constant hell.
Examining himself in the mirror Gerard felt a sense of delight wash over him. He looked alright. Well, in his mind. It was evenly blended. No more bags, no more impurities.
Picking up a true black eyeliner, he rubbed some of the coal on the outer edges of his olive eyes. Them, glinting as the black popped against them. After almost poking his eye out, he had figured that was enough. Smiling seductively to himself, he felt proud. Overcome with a great sense of relief that he didn't look like a Twinkie loving junkie anymore. He was still pudgy. But at least his face was decent. After staring at his own reflection, studying every crease, every little curve of his frown lines that the powder barely managed to cover, he began to zip up the bag. Feeling quite content and slightly guilty for wasting his mothers makeup. But hell, she hardly ever used it herself. Let alone attained a situation where makeup would permit. Granted, Gerard hadn't had one either, but for the reason of wanting to feel beautiful. Lost in thought he came back from stuffing the overflowing Lacey pink bag inside the cabinet and spotted a sliver tube glinting underneath the sink. A frown crept it's way onto his figure, bending over to pick it up, he discovered he must've let a tube of his mothers lipstick out. Red rouge 53 he read. Gerard scoffed at how unoriginal the name was. Red rouge? Seriously? Because saying it in French totally made a difference. The lipstick easily opened with a airy pop, and Gerard surveyed the color. It was beautiful. The kind of red where it looks like someone had just gotten out of a passionate bloody kiss. He suddenly wanted to try it. Wear it. Lick it. Kiss someone with it. Well, he could do about 3 of those. Cutting out the last option. A slight roll of his index and middle finger slid the color out of it's shell even more. And suddenly Gerard found it at his lips. Smoothing onto to the already pink skin. Layering it own, he capped it again and stood back. Some of the lipstick had gotten on his teeth and he frowned, snatching up a napkin and squeaking his tooth clean. It actually didn't look half bad. And some of that may have gotten to Gerard's head. Pondering wether or not to step outside with it on, he began making slight kissy faces with himself at the mirror. Admiring how it really brought his look together. Made his eyes pop If you will. Then in the middle of a tongue flick he heard the bathroom door fling open and saw Mikey, along with a mysterious; yet rather short, character along with him.
"Gee what the fuck." Uttered Mikey. Standing bone legged and Looking completely confused but yet had a slight amusement playing around his mouth and eyebrows.
"Take that shit off before mom gets home and gets pissed because you were making kissy faces with her favorite lipstick and come down to the basement with us." Mikey turned a cheek at Gerard and started down the stairwell. Still seeming completely unbothered by the fact that his brother had been parading around in his bathroom in his mothers best lipstick.
But what caught Gerard's attention was that the short figure hidden in the stairwells shadows crept forward and out into the light. If Gerard hadn't been looking like a deer in headlights he might've blushed at his beauty.
"Hi, I'm frank. And I think that color really suits your eyes."
Promptly following mikey down the basement, they left Gerard standing in the bathroom, lipstick tube in hand, and a puzzled look on his painted face over what the incredibly hot new friend of his brother had said. Even the sheer embarrassment couldn't snap Gerard's mind from swimming in the compliment and judging wether he meant it or not.
Mindlessly reaching for a napkin and kissing away the lipstick, he tossed the evidence and nervously trudged down to the basement, to Mikey, and that frank fellow with the little hazel orbs.
♠ ♠ ♠
If reading. You're fucking awesome.