So...Who Are You Again? My Chemical Romance? Never Heard of You.

"How could you?"

I blinked in confusion, looking at Shelly's perturbed face and being stung by her harsh tone. I had no idea why I was being ridiculed, and if I had known that's what I agreed to whenever she requested to talk to me privately, I would have refused.

"What are you talking about?" I spoke, to which she jut her jaw out.

"You know what you did," she hissed, narrowing her eyes. She had her arms folded, giving the impression her opinion about me currently was not going to change by a plea of ignorance. But what other option did I have?

"I really don't," I insisted, shaking my head with growing confusion. I looked at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation as she continued glaring at me. An impatient sigh that I'd grown accustomed to hearing when Shelly was having a fit marked the end of my unawareness.

"Why were you and Gerard alone together?" Before I could reply my smartass answer, Shelly added in a soft voice, lowering her head, "You know I like him."

"How am I supposed to know that?" I asked, alarmed at her assumption. "This is the first I've heard of it!"

"You should be able to tell," Shelly huffed. My head bowed as I looked at her unbelievably. This was not a badly written script where all the characters were miraculously in tune with each others inner thoughts. Besides, she should know I'm not observant. I mean, seriously- This is the person who continuously overlooked a bulletin board.

"Despite popular belief, I am not a mind reader, Shelly. What does that have to do with anything, anyway?"

"Are you kidding?" she bellowed, louder than necessary, waving her arms animatedly. "That's got everything to do with it!"

"Well excuse me for hanging out with my friend," I replied flatly, still pulled back slightly from Shelly's outburst. She groaned, very obviously frustrated with me.

"He likes you, Julie!" she said in a softer voice, but still with the same intensity. "He fucking likes you!" I blinked, looking at her strangely for saying this.

"What are you talking about? No he doesn't." I almost wanted to laugh for hearing her silly theory.

"Are you blind? He looks at you all the time and he's been holding your hand a lot lately."

The amusement I had in this conversation slowly got sucked away. Now that she mentions it...

"That doesn't necessarily mean he likes me," I defended, still not willing to believe her words. Gee couldn't like me. He couldn't.

...Could he?

"He gave you his coffee- His coffee for Christ's sake!" She waved her arms in a frenzy, an action she repeats a lot for emphasis. "He likes you!" Her arms fell to her side hopelessly after her sentence then mumbled in a barely legible voice, "He's supposed to like me."

There were so many remarks I could have thrown in; so many punch lines I'd been able to think of when watching this exact moment practically carbon copied into every sitcom that lasted more than a season. I'd gotten to a point in life a couple years ago where sarcastic answers come more naturally than actual answers, but I'd learned to hold my tongue for special cases, and save them for the television. Shelly was my best friend and I didn't want to completely rupture her life, as I'm sure she'd accuse me of somehow, so I continued the honest heart-to-heart conversation.

The clock is ticking and I'm still waiting for that best friend award, by the way.

"I don't like him like that. I'm not trying to take him from you." I shook my head sincerely. "Honestly." I added, trying to assure her of my words.

"Really?" she asked after a couple seconds, her face still full of sullen grief.

"I'm positive," I stressed, then continued in a mocking tone, "You should be able to tell."

She frowned at this, but didn't retaliate, knowing I didn't mean it as an insult.

"You need to tell him not to like you so he can focus on me." She pointed to herself, beginning to get her usual pep and ego back.

"Shelly, I can't do that. There's not a switch that I can just flip to make his feelings go away." Unexpectedly, the image of Frank's depressed face popped into my head, suddenly making me grim. I didn't want Gerard to be like that as well.

"I know," she mumbled, seeing reason in my harsh reality. "Just..."

"I told you I don't like him like that. Our relationship won't ever be more than just friends, I promise. He's all yours." I held her shoulders tightly, reassuring her of my feelings for him. I mean, Gerard is awesome, nice, and especially good looking, I will admit, but no- Just no.

Shelly half smiled at me, believing my words, then whispered a thanks. She took a breath and exhaled; I could already tell she wasn't mad anymore. I nodded my head to the door, asking if she wanted to rejoin the guys.

"Yeah," she agreed. I turned around toward the door and twisted the knob, but stopped short.

"But if it were up to me, I'd say you're going after the wrong Way," I advised quietly. I didn't look to see her reaction, but I knew the point caught her off guard because she continued standing there after I left. Maybe my words were sinking in the first time in our lives.

"Please Ray, for the love of God, let me blow something up!" Mikey exclaimed to a stoic Ray as I entered the room. Ray had his arms folded and a defiant look on his face as he shook his head.

"Tell your brother to buy me a new controller," he negotiated simply, still refusing to let anyone play the Xbox.

"Gerard, please get him a new controller," Mikey begged, bunching up Gerard’s shirt into his grip. "I NEED to blow something up. I'm going into withdrawals here."

"Well, Ray should have thought of that before he threw his controller at me," Gerard said calmly, looking at Ray innocently. I couldn't help but think he was provoking his band mates for sheer entertainment.

"Well, Gerard should have thought of that before he threw the controller at my face," Ray retaliated bitterly, his eyes narrowed.

"Well, Ray should have been paying attention."

"Well, Bob shouldn't have distracted me." Ray's anger abruptly went away upon hearing himself. He turned to Bob, whose eyebrows rose.

"So, Bob is the culprit," Gerard deduced, placing a fist in his palm. "Attack him, Mikey."

"What's the point?" Mikey groaned loudly, falling back onto the couch in frustration. He ripped a pillow out from behind Gerard and pressed it to his face, blocking out everyone, and then mumbled into the pillow, "Someone just turn the TV."

"You know reading is a good alternative," I suggested, making myself apparent in the conversation causing startled reactions around the room. Mikey shot up from the couch, the pillow he had in his grip flying out of his hand. I don't even know how, a cosmic star arrangement must have it out for this bus or something, but that pillow somehow or another flew straight through the still broken window next to the couch, tearing away the bag. Mikey, without thinking, dove after it, causing an exclamation from everyone. Gerard was the first to react- he quickly fastened a grip around his brother's waist just in time, leaving half of Mikey flailing out the window. With the help of Bob and Ray, they reeled Mikey in with exasperated looks.

"God dammit, Mikey," Gerard cursed, shaking his head and breathing semi-heavily. "God dammit."

"Now it's fucking cold in here," Ray grumbled, reverting back to his grumpy attitude, crossing his arms. His mass of hair proceeded to whirl around due to the wind seeping in from the speed we were traveling. "And windy; thanks a lot, Mikey,"

"She scared me!" Mikey accused, pointing to me, his hair swishing around as well.

"That doesn't mean you have to throw a pillow through the window!" Gerard retaliated on my behalf, now with his arms crossed up due to the slight temperature drop.

"Sorry," I offered apologetically, raising my hand defensively, not expecting Mikey to freak out. I guess encouraging reading really doesn't help.

"Nice one, Julie," Shelly commented from behind me, finally entering the room. It was my turn to be startled when I jumped and turned towards her, though thank the stars that haunt this bus, nothing ended up unexpectedly broken.

"Let's just watch a movie," Bob suggested, his voice raised in order to be heard over the whipping wind from the gaping hole in the bus.

"What?" Mikey, Gerard, and Ray questioned, not understanding Bob.

"Let's watch a movie!" Bob reiterated loudly, gaining realization from Mikey and Ray the second time.

"What?" Gerard, who sat the furthest away from Bob, shouted, to which Mikey turned to his brother and pointed to Bob

"He said to watch," Mikey pointed to his eyes, beginning to act out Bob's suggestion.

"What?" Gerard screamed again, cutting off Mikey before even trying to interpret anything. Mikey's eyes bulged in infuriation, then pointed to the TV, receiving an upward nod from Gerard signifying his comprehension. Now I knew for sure Gerard was pissing people off for amusement.

So, with much difficulty, we tied up one of Bob's many hoodies to block out at least some of the incoming now-August breeze. All six of us squeezed together on the couch in attempt to keep the chill off, Shelly claiming a spot next to Gerard despite my recommendation.

Oh well.

--

When we got to the hotel and drew lots for who was rooming together, something peculiar happened. To my surprise, Shelly and I didn't have the same room. We both simply looked at each other solemnly as we held our sticks up next to the other, not matching for the first time. I awkwardly held my lot as Shelly compared hers to Mikey's and Bob's who were together; Ray joined shortly after. My eyes shifted toward the other two band members who stood a couple feet away. Gerard and Frank held their lots to the other, both looking a little less than pleased. I extended my arm, comparing my lot to theirs, and sure enough they were all the same length.

"Huh," the three of us stated in unison. This arrangement hadn't come up before and never had occurred to me before, despite my previous bragging of logic. Gerard looked from Frank to me, wondering why there wasn't an immediate retaliation. Frank shrugged then walked into our room without a word, receiving odd looks from everyone but me. Gerard and I hesitantly followed silently after I bided a goodbye to Shelly. Nobody continued to speak as we dropped all the luggage in our room. Frank flopped into the lounge chair and pulled his phone out. I prepared to break the silence by asking which bed was mine, but soon decided against it when I saw Gerard glaring daggers at Frank.

"So, are you just not gonna talk to any of us now?" Gerard spat. Frank calmly lifted his head and looked Gerard in the eye, not affected in the least by Gerard's annoyance.

"What do you want to talk about, Gerard?"

Gerard was taken aback by Frank's serene attitude and his scowl was replaced by a questioning look. He blinked a couple times, stunned that a fight didn’t ensue.

"Frank, when did you become fuckin' bi-polar?" Gerard raised an eyebrow then crossed his arms, watching Frank carefully. Even I was surprised at how mellow Frank was; I thought for sure he would continue being an asshole, but I guess he had other plans. A small feeling of happiness rose through me as a thought struck- Maybe he was planning on telling Gerard about his ex?

"I'm just not in the mood to fight." Frank shrugged, a lopsided smile placed crookedly on his face.

"So..." Gerard trailed off, still in surprise, then continued, "You gonna tell me what had you so riled up, then?"

"No," Frank replied simply without thought. Gerard blinked a few times then faced me.

Guess not.

"Well you at least owe Julie and me an apology. You've been a real dick, man."

Frank sat motionless in the chair, entranced with the ground, his eyebrows drawn together. He closed his eyes in deep thought and no one said anything for several seconds, until Gerard exhaled. His features didn't suggest he was annoyed.

"I forgive you," Gerard whispered, even though Frank hadn't said anything. Frank opened his eyes and looked to Gerard emotionless. "I haven't seen you like this in a long time. Something's obviously eating you up that you don't want to tell anyone about. I can understand that. But Julie-"

"It's alright," I cut Gerard off, finally finding my voice in the conversation. Gerard looked at me unsurely, wondering why I forgave him so easily. I paid no mind to him and had my eyes locked with Frank. "Really."

"Alright," Gerard spoke softly, glancing to Frank empathetically. "Just tell me eventually."

Frank nodded in agreement, looking back to the ground. Gerard truly cared for his friend, which was admirable, but little did he know that being that close to Frank was hindering his chances of getting an answer.

"Alright," Gerard repeated in conclusion. He then proceeded to dig through his bag, unpacking a few of his things, facing away from the room.

Frank suddenly sprang up so that he sat upright in his chair, his eyes wide with a purpose. He drew a breath in and opened his mouth, ready to make a confession, but remained in the same position, no words escaping him. His motivation slowly drained out of him as he leaned back in his chair helplessly, hunching over to make him look piteous. This sight made my heart break a little bit- I really did hate to see him look so feeble, as if he could just break down at any given second. I'd like to meet this Lauren and bash her face in for leaving a hollow shell of Frank's former self.

The room remained hushed, the only noise being from Gerard shifting around his belongings. I couldn't help but feel a sense of broken spirits in the room, as if all hopes were lost forever. Gerard presumably was upset that Frank wouldn't open up to him of all people, and Frank still felt defeated for having lingering feelings for Lauren. I stood in the middle of the unspoken sorrow, empathizing with both of them. But there wasn't anything I could do, which only made me feel worse. I sat down on the table and rubbed my eyes thoroughly, not realizing how exhausted I was. Traveling on a bus for seven some odd hours could do that to a person.

"How's the sleeping arrangement going to work?" I piped up after at least a five minute silence. Gerard stopped where he was and bit his lip in thought then looked to the two beds.

"Well, we could share a bed to give Frank his room."

My insides screamed in objection as all my emotions suddenly flipped themselves on, contrasting my almost lifeless feeling inside. I thought back to Shelly and I's conversation earlier and how sharing a bed with Gerard Way would not help her situation what so ever.

"Uh, I don't think that'll work," I stated, trying to get out of the situation as nonchalantly as possible. Gerard eyed me upon my request, looking like he took a little offence.

"So, you'd pick bi-polar, asshole Frank over me?" Gerard assumed, a glisten of sadness in his eyes. Ignoring Frank's objection to his description, I shook my head, thinking fast.

"No, I just don't want to share a bed," I made up my explanation.

"So you expect me to sleep with Frank," Gerard said flatly, looking at me unbelievably.

"I think I'll just sleep in the chair," Frank interjected.

"Oh come on, Gerard doesn't bite," I joked, beginning to regain my former disposition. It seemed the tense air was cleared from the room for now.

"Gerard used to think he was a vampire," Frank stated, a bemused smile growing on his face.

"I used to think I was a lot of things," Gerard said, openly laughing at himself.

"Hey, I got an idea," Frank informed suddenly, veering off the topic of Gerard's delusions. We looked at him curiously from the other side of the room. "We should thumb wrestle for the bed arrangement."

I scoffed, trying to remember the last time I thumb wrestled over something. The first thing that came to memory was from my fourth grade year at Kimberlin elementary school. We only had two swings on the playground; visibly they were similar, but everyone knew that the one on the right was the good swing. Every day, kids would settle who it was bestowed on with a thumb war, myself included on many of them.

"Like, two rounds?" Gerard inquired, considering the juvenile solution.

"Nah," Frank rejected, batting his hand in the air once. "A three-way thumb war."

Gerard and I glanced toward each other unsurely, and I could tell he was wondering the same thing I was- A three way thumb way? How would that even work?

"Look," Frank instructed, sensing our confusion. He stood up and strode across the room and beckoned us to cluster together once he stopped. He gripped Gerard's hand with his right hand and my hand with his left, then drew them together, placing them in the proper thumb war position. He then scooted me over some and placed his own hand around mine and under Gerard's, creating a three way thumb war.

My eyes grew when I suddenly understood what he meant. When I looked up, Gerard wore the same bewilderment as me.

My God, it was genius. We never thought of this in fourth grade.

"So, winner gets to pick the sleeping arrangement," Frank explained, glimpsing at Gerard and I with a playful grin.

"Wait, so you have to pin down two thumbs to win?" I questioned.

"You got it," Frank confirmed.

"But my hands are smaller tha-" I quickly argued, seeing a main flaw in this competition.

"Ready, set, go," Frank cut me off, ignoring my disadvantage. Now, let me tell you the full picture of my fourth grade memory. I participated in countless thumb wars, but that sure didn't mean I won. I rarely felt the achievement of a win in both video games and thumb wars, which have ironically both come up in the past week after years upon years of being untouched. So, not only was I horrible at thumb wars, I inconveniently had a smaller hand, which wasn't putting me in favor of a win.

I tried, though. I tried and for the second I had Frank's thumb under mine, I felt a glimmer of hope that was crushed shortly after when Gerard seized the opportunity and clamped his thumb on top of ours.

"Dammit." Frank clicked his tongue, annoyed at his defeat, contrasting Gerard’s triumphant smile. Not even paying attention to my loss, I noticed my hand suddenly felt significantly colder when we untangled from our thumb war. I had a sudden impulse to grab Frank's hand again, and I couldn't figure out why. Holding Gerard's hand didn't make me feel that warm.

"And for my birthday wish," Gerard squeezed one eye shut and looked at me contemplatively, "I think I want a Julie."

The strange feeling I had for those couple of seconds went away, along with my thoughts of the matter, when Gerard bent down and scooped me up bridal style. I let out a surprised yelp as he carried me to the queen sized bed and dropped me gently. As I watched Gerard walk away to get ready for bed, as it was well into the night by the time we got here, I brain stormed how I'd explain this to Shelly if it came up.

Sorry Shelly, it was the rules of the war...It wasn't my fault- blame my small hands!

I didn't get much further in my thought process before Frank sat beside me after a few seconds. I halted my inner dilemma to pay attention to Frank, who appeared to have remained miserable, regardless of his temporary upbeat attitude.

"I couldn't do it," he whispered apologetically to me, looking to the ground. Gerard was in the bathroom brushing his teeth so that it was only Frank and I sitting on the bed.

"I couldn't win either," I consoled, inferring that he was referring to the thumb war. He chortled lightly at my encouragement.

"Not that," he explained. "I couldn't tell Gerard about Lauren."

"Oh. Well, I saw you try, why didn't you?"

"I don't know," Frank admitted shortly, furrowing his eyebrows. "It was right there; it was on the tip of my tongue...But I just couldn't do it. I fucking hate myself for feeling like this. And actually being on speaking terms with Gerard is making this worse."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up over it," I comforted kindly. He continued to avert my eye contact. Without thinking, I squeezed his hand reassuringly to which he let his eyes trail upwards from the ground. I immediately realized how stupid the gesture was; it seemed less awkward in retrospective. I was about to release my hand and apologize for the incident, but was shocked when I felt his hand very lightly grip mine back. I watched him, feeling stunned, as he slowly turned his head toward me, his bright eyes wide with speculation and his jaw slacked. My brain progressively shut down as the nanoseconds ticked, and all I could muster was to stare.

"Hey, I just thought of something," I heard Gerard say as he reentered from the bathroom, bringing us back to reality. Frank took a deep breath in and his eyes got even bigger. He swiftly jumped up, landing a few feet away from me, tensed up.

"Wouldn't it be..." Gerard left his thought incomplete when he noticed how uneasy Frank looked. Abandoning the rest of his sentence, Gerard asked unsurely, "What's up with you?"

"I just remembered I forgot to feed my fish," Frank responded quickly. Gerard narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"You don't have a fish," he spoke slowly.

"Yeah I do," Frank insisted, looking from side to side, attempting to be inconspicuous. "I bought it a few days ago- It's in Madina Lake's bus now."

"Really," Gerard stated, still sounding doubtful about Frank's explanation. Frank nodded his head persistently.

"Yeah, I'll have to uh- show you some time. But now, I um- Gotta pee," Frank sputtered rapidly, taking his excuse and power walked past Gerard to the bathroom. Gerard looked toward me with a raised eyebrow, silently questioning Frank's odd behavior, to which I could only shrug. My heart was pumping unusually fast for some reason, and my breath caught in my throat.

For the umpteenth time this whole trip, I had no idea what happened.