What Happened in Vegas?!

Franks POV

"This is so weird," I muttered through gritted teeth as we approached the venue I was playing at tonight. We'd just joined hands as we walked towards it to make this whole thing look real. I could understand Gerards reasoning, because if the guys found out our marriage was a mistake, they'd destroy me, but in some ways I would prefer that to going through this utter weirdness!

Before we'd left we'd also contacted Mikey and Zacky to let them know of our plans. They were more than happy to keep it zipped about the real story, because they wanted to see how long we could last pretending to be a married couple. This sucked. So bad. I'm never drinking again! (Pshh, said that before!)

"I know," he sighed in return as we approached the backstage door and the security guard looked expectantly at me. I held up the pass I'd been given a while back because I did a lot of shows here, and he nodded before looking at Gerard.

"Who's this?" he asked, eying our joined hands.

"My.." I started, taking in a breath before saying that horrid word. "Husband,"

The guard looked back and forth from the two of us, obviously not believing a word of it, but letting us both in regardless. We walked through the gate and into the backstage area, and I saw my band mates sitting on a sofa, tuning their instruments or conversing with one another.

"Pick up a boyfriend at the funeral?" Neil said, some what bitterly as we approached.

"Funeral?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and looking around the group.

"Yes. The funeral. The reason you had to miss those gigs recently..." he said, looking at me with a confused expression.

"Oh, right yeah, the --uh, funeral right. Uh, no, I didn't meet him at the funeral, I met him before hand y'know, out and about and well..." I trailed off, realizing that I may as well have spoken a foreign language just then. "Well, now we're married," I smiled, remembering what Gerard had said, and pretending to be happy about it.

"Married?" Shaun interjected, a look of shock on his face. "Like...Married, married?"

"I never thought it was possible for you to have a heart, Iero," John chuckled, almost bitterly.

"Frank, you hate the idea of love and what-not, and now you're married. It doesn't make sense?" Tim added.

I sighed, expecting this one hundred percent. "I know that I've never really been in a real relationship because I don't believe that you should be joined to someone blahblahblah, but since I met Gerard - he changed that," I explained, affectionately, cringing almost as I did so. Gerard grinned and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, but I could feel how tense he was. He was hating it as much as me.

"If the funeral was Friday...when'd you get married?"

"Saturday," I stated bluntly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"B-But..." Neil stuttered, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"I don't give it more than 3 months," John laughed.

"I'm willing to bet you on that," Tim laughed, shaking Johns hand.

"Guys, I don't appreciate you making a mockery out of my marriage," I sighed, pretending to be hurt. I wasn't really, I couldn't care less what they were saying.

"Sorry dude, but it's weird enough that you're married, let alone the fact you got married after a day of getting to know each other,"

"Well, it was inevitably going to happen, and I'd rather sooner than later, right Frank?" Gerard said, smiling down at me, but his eyes red that he was hating every second.

"Right," I nodded firmly at my band, who all stood either shocked, unconvinced or both.

"Guys, 2 minutes!" someone yelled at us through a door that led to the side of the stage.

"Shit! You're kidding?! I'm still sober!!" I flailed, storming over to the bar that had been put in the backstage area. Why it was here, I'll never know.

"Frank," Gerard purred, grabbing the collar of my shirt, and pulling me back. "I thought you said that you'd do this one show sober..." he paused, fluttering his eyelashes in a girlish manner. "For me,"

I could see a look of mocking in his eyes as he tried to contain his laughter, and I swear that if he hadn't wanted to start this little charade that we were married, I'd have hit him so hard in the face he'd forget his name. I may be little, but fighting of jocks in high-school really did help me in a lot of ways.

"Fine," I growled through my teeth, grabbing my guitar and heading out to the stage with the rest of the band, watching over my shoulder as Gerard left the room to go out into the main part of the venue, so he could watch, waving smugly as he left.