missxmoody

Lol.

2008-10-23T22:56:47Z

I've got a Nigel.

I'm nuts.

2008-09-13T21:44:32Z

I drew a picture of a Fred Durst-type character about a month ago, and last night I dreamed I was at a skate comp and he was my boyfriend and everyone was jealous because he was so amazing.

And he was really tall and smelled really nice.

Baggy sweatpants. Reebok's with the straps.

2008-09-09T18:25:58Z

The 'a' key isn't working so well, so bear with me please.

So... I got fired. Then I got unfired but demoted. All in about five minutes. I'm sorry Jesse but I don't think I can come in January because it's peak season to Aus. and I won't be able to afford it with only half the wage I had last week. I could come at the beginning of your next summer holidy though, which would suit me better because it won't be so hot. I'm gutted but we'll sort it out ok ily. Now that I hardly work I have more time to BMX though which is a plus and I can show you some sick tricks when I do come. Speking of which...

I'm starting to ride park now, instead of just street. I dropped in on the quarter pipe for the first time yesterday it was scary as shit but once i'd done it it was all gravy. I'm working up to tailwhips, just getting the right amount of rotation down is the hardest part, overshooting it and ending up with your BMX jmmed halfway up your privates isn't the most fun, but at least I'm not a bloke. I really wnt to go to Americ where there are proper massive parks so I can put down some combo's and meet some better riders who can teach me some stuff.

I had lods of other stuff to say but I cn't remember. I watched Step Up 2: The Streetz. It ws so much better thn the shitty first one, I recommend you watch it because one of the kids is the sickest dncer I have ever seen. Moose. Watch out for that one. I didn't like the girl but the main guy is adorable, he's got tht dimple on one side thing which I love, like Gaspard Ulliel. The french ctor who's in A Very Long Enggement. I guess the aaa key hs totally given up now, huh. Hha i had to press it really hard.

Anywy,
I hope your birthdy was alright, Anarae. Welcome to your last teenage year. Mine's already halfwy through :(

Get in touch people. I wanna know wht's new with everyone. Tell me something unique and interesting about yourself. Tell me at least one awesome new thing you've done since we last spoke.

I haven't sworn once in this post, be proud.

Peace outtt x

Oh God.

2008-08-08T17:20:35Z

I tried to curl my hair and now I look like a poodle.

Mainey and I are writing a comic. Well, I'm writing it and we're drawing it together. It's really difficult; we don't imagine things anywhere near the same as one another.
I'm very excited about it, even though plot holes keep revealing themselves with every line I write.
I'd really like to speak with Jesse about a title for it actually so look out for me :) (also I need to book my tickets so we need to finalise a date).

And I really miss you, Anarae. We've hardy spoken since this year began and... I just really miss you. Hopefully we'll find some time soon.

Love.

missxmoody @ 2008-05-19T00:13:00

2008-05-18T23:13:38Z

Pendulum were fucking amazing.

I love Australia.

I'm so stupiddd.

2008-05-16T22:47:29Z

I got really paranoid because Anarae didn't reply to my last post but just now I realised I made it friends only and I hadn't added her new account XD

I love Iron Man. I love Tony Stark. See that fucking film. And buy me The Avengers Initiative Graphic Novel :) While you're at it, get me Wolverine Origins #1-#22.
On that subject, why the fuck is that pretty boy from The Covenant playing Gambit in the Wolverine movie? Josh Holloway would have been my choice, if he could get rid of the southern accent. He looks so much the part and he can act but that little runt couldn't even play a flea.

I bought Batman: The Killing Joke today, which someone told me was Jokers first appearance which is bullshit, and they didn't believe me when I told them his first appearance was Batman #1. How can you not know that, seriously?
But The Killing Joke is pretty good, it's nice knowing a bit about Jack before he became Joker. It makes me even more excited for The Dark Knight, I'm itching to see Ledger play him.

I've got a doctor's appointment on tuesday; I'm putting myself into therapy. I'm done with feeling like everyone's out to get me, and I need someone to help me sort out the way I feel about certain things. I'm feeling really good about it, I think I might actually start to be bothered about more than BMXing and comic books.

We've only got one life, and this is it. I'm not sitting around waiting for life to start anymore.

This is Dorian Knight, and I love him.

2008-03-05T23:39:26Z

He's the one on the left. Tobin is his little brother and owned by Mainey. We ran around the airfield today taking photos of them and it was awesome, despite the cold.

Then we had chips and wrote some stories and ate cake.

I'm going to be so gutted if Patrick Swayze dies. I really hate 2008; all the best people are dying. I'm just waiting for Gerard or Bert to die :(

It's almost my birthday though, should be getting Jane Austen's complete works from my mum, and my Gerard doll should be coming at the end of the month. I just had the preview pictures and Anarae recognised it so I'm dead excited.

Work tomorrow :( Being an adult sucks. I just want a dog, a house and a nice, handsome boy to wash up and cook for me. If he looked like Ryn Reynolds that would be a bonus. JESSE, FOR MY BIRTHDAY? ;)

I'm sorry I haven't been on msn, and I'll be online even less for the next couple weeks but after that I'm going to try to make a proper effort to get online and speak to all of you.
I love you <3
xoxo

Apparently

2008-02-27T21:54:23Z

England had an earthquake today.

WELL WHERE THE FUCK WAS I? I DIDN'T FUCKING FEEL IT. I swear this week hates me.

And fuck Camberwick Green. I've stared at it and stared at it, and it just won't be written.
You're all going to have to FUCKING WAIT. I'm not a fucking genius, stop messaging me on myspace telling me to hurry the fuck up. You just make me never want to write it. I'm fucking sick of it and it'll be written when it's written.

I love Dor, he makes the world keep turning <3

Thank fuck

2008-01-17T18:23:18Z

the Give it a Name line up is shit.

I love Glassjaw, and I used to love/don't mind 30stm ~~or Anti-Flag~~, but otherwise I have no interest. Lol Paramore.

My wallet is safe :D

P.S Sorry I haven't been around much. I fuckin miss you guys.

EDIT: It's Black Flag I like. Duh.

Today is too scary.

2007-12-17T01:07:54Z

I'm so fucking bored and desperate to read Bert, that I started reading Bert HET on quizilla. I know, it was obviously going to be awful but I hadn't banked on just how awful.
Besides spelling immediately 'immeadiatly' and alcohol 'alchahol' she also has some crazy vendetta against me, and I'm pretty sure I don't even know her.

The slut they fix up with Bert who gets broken hearted is called Kayleigh. My real first name.

The best friend who dies of 'alchahol poisianing' is called Kristen Moody. My real last name.

WTF? Okay so I know I'm paranoid at the best of times but that's just creepy.

I also keep crying at stupid things. Like on LA Ink today, Pixie was sent out of the shop by Kat so she could get a tattoo of her face, only Pixie thought she was getting fired and she started crying. So I did too. For ages.

Anarae, get my face tattood on your hip :D

EDIT: her voice consideribally more serious. *facepalm*

Stay Out of Camberwick Green [5/?]

2007-12-01T09:43:44Z

A/N: Here's chapter 5 two whole weeks early. I don't know when Chapter 6 will be out, because I don't seem to be able to finish it. Good news is, once chapters 6,7,8 are done, the next six chapters are already finished. Please bear with me until my brain gets in gear. Thanks :)

They arrived back at the Chang’s without incident. A couple of times Gerard was sure he saw thugs walk towards them, seem to recognise Bert and run off in the opposite direction, but he shrugged it off. There was no reason to ruin the end of the evening with prying questions.

“Thanks for buying me dinner, Gee.”

“What’s this Gee business, kid?” Gerard grinned, wincing slightly as his lip split open again.

“Gerard’s a stupid name. It takes too long to say. One syllable is the best way to go. Look what you’ve done to your lip!” Bert’s face clouded with concern as he reached up to touch the cut on Gerard’s bottom lip.

As the boy’s finger tips touched his lips, Gerard’s eyes drifted shut. He heard a rustle of fabric, a tin opening and felt Bert’s hand leave his face. He was about to open his eyes when the fingers were back on his cheek, Bert’s left hand rubbing Vaseline on the cut.

“I hate Vaseline,” he murmured.

“Mmm. But it really works. That’ll be healed by tomorrow. Here, keep this. Put some more on before you go to bed,” Bert slipped the small tin into Gerard’s pocket. As he opened his eyes again, Gerard realised just how close the two of them were at that moment.

Bert seemed to notice at the same moment and blushed furiously. “Umm, thanks again, Gerard. We should do it again sometime.” He put his arms around Gerard’s waist and pulled him in for a hug. Releasing the taller boy, Bert smiled, “Make sure you put that shit on your lip, you hear me?” and closed the door.

Gerard smiled at the closed door. “I hear you, kid. I hear you.”

*********

Bert had been right about the Vaseline; by morning the cut on Gerard’s lip was mostly healed. It would probably split if there was a great force on it, or if he laughed too much but he was sure he’d be fine.

Considering it was morning, Gerard was surprisingly happy. He flipped open his laptop and even chuckled at the joke his brother’s email contained. Deleting the other 25 junk emails, he opened the New Message box and wrote a message to the one person he could trust to keep a secret and not ask questions.

Yo, Toro what’s up?

Washington really is as shitty as they say it is. I’m missing home like crazy.
But I really need you to do something for me.

I’ve met someone out here and I was wondering if you could do a background check for me.
His name’s Bert McCracken. He’s not connected to the case as far as I know.
Don’t read it; just send me his file, and his record. Assuming he’s got one, obviously.

I hope all is well with you and the wife. I reckon I’ll be back to visit soon; I miss my mom. So I’ll be sure to come see you if that does happen.

I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone.

Gerard x

He clicked send and opened another New Message window.

You said to check in after two weeks so I am.

I’ve got no information yet but I do have reason to believe the suspect is not involved. I’ve no circumstantial evidence on any grounds at all, however.

I will contact you as soon as I learn anything new.

Gerard Way.

Sending that to his DCI, Gerard went down for his shower.

***********

The bathroom door burst open just as Gerard was stepping out of the shower, and a blond man came crashing through it. Gerard grabbed the towel off the rack and covered himself, just as Bert stepped in after the blond. He was thankful for the shower curtain, and he stood still and quiet as Bert grabbed the blond boy off the ground and shoved him against the wall.

“The fuck you think you were doing in that room you scumbag?” the black haired boy snarled.

“Nothing! It was a mistake!” the mystery boy whimpered as Bert’s fist landed in his stomach.

“Cut the crap, Quinn. I wanna know what the fuck made you think you could get away with being in that room. Fuckin’ tell me.” Bert’s voice was low, his teeth grit together.

“I just wanted to know about him! There’s something not right about him, Bert. Don’t tell me you ain’t noticed. An’ I seen the way you two are together and I don’t for a single second believe you’re tryin’ to be his friend,” Quinn replied.

Gerard realised they were talking about him and it took everything he had not to step out of the shower and demand to know why this guy had seen fit to rifle through his things.

“What is it, Bert? Is he gonna just be another quick fuck, like I was? You gonna bleed him dry and chuck him away, just like all the others? I know you. You don’t have friends or family. You just have yourself and a couple of one night stands a month.”

Gerard felt his heart plummet at these words.

“But I’ve never seen you put so much effort into someone before, especially not some fat ugly bastard like him,” Gerard was about to leap out of the shower when he heard Bert defend him.

“You son of a bitch.” Gerard winced as he heard the deep thud of a fist landing in a groin. The blonde groaned. “Gerard is not fat. He’s fucking beautiful and if I ever see you near him, or hear you say another bad word about him, I’ll rip your fucking face off,” There was a loud crack as Bert backhanded Quinn across the face. “Do we understand each other, fucker?”

“Yes! Yes. Please let me go.” Quinn snivelled and Gerard heard him scurry out of the bathroom, closely followed by Bert.

He let his head drop back against the wall and closed his eyes. He was stunned at the ruthless violence Bert had demonstrated just now, but even more so at Bert’s comment that Gerard was beautiful. Gerard couldn’t deny that he found Bert attractive, but he was fairly sure he wasn’t really gay. He honestly wouldn’t care if he was, but he’d never found a boy even remotely attractive before and he didn’t see what was so special about Bert.

‘His lips, his eyelashes, his skin. Just to start off with,’ he found himself thinking. He shook his head to clear the thoughts away.

After he’d seen Bert behaving like that, he wasn’t sure how to feel or what to think. He’d been so sure that Bert wasn’t capable of those murders but now… now he just didn’t know what was up and what was down.

He pulled his clothes on and began drying his hair whilst walking down to the kitchen, all the time thinking about what he’d seen and heard. It was a miracle neither of the boys had seen Gerard’s clothes hanging on the towel rack, but he presumed they’d just been too preoccupied to take note of their surroundings. He guessed he was lucky. Who knew what Bert might have done to him had he been caught spying. He made himself a coffee and drank it in silence, staring out of the window into the littered yard.

With a jolt he remembered the Quinn boy had been in his room and he bounded up the stairs. The door was closed, he noted with relief and he continued rubbing his hair with the towel as he went in.

“JESUS!” He screamed and jumped about a foot in the air when he lifted his head to see Bert casually sprawled across his bed.

“Didn’t mean to startle you! I just needed a quick word,” Bert’s eyes were huge as he apologised profusely. “…Have you been in the shower?” he added, eyeing the towel and the water droplets still falling from Gerard’s hair.

“Err… no! I just gave my head a quick rinse. I’ve already had my two showers this week but it was feeling a bit dirty,” Gerard covered up.

“Oh. Well. You smell nice anyway,” Bert smiled and Gerard relaxed a bit. “I’m going to Bella’s tonight. Wanna come? I’m not going till about nine though, so it’ll be well past midnight by the time we get back.”

“Uhh, I got some things to do tonight, actually. Maybe some other time?” Gerard spoke, looking past Bert out of the window. He wanted nothing more than to go to the restaurant, but he didn’t know if he could keep his mouth closed for a whole night.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Sorry.”

“No, that’s fine! I’ll see you around then,” and Bert left without even looking up.

“You fucking moron!” Gerard berated himself moments later. Bert had looked really upset and Gerard didn’t know how he could fix things. Of course he could keep quiet about the events of today; he didn’t understand why he’d backed out of the meal.

Still angry at himself, he opened his laptop to find no new emails.

**********

The look on Bert’s face was well worth feeling like a fool when he saw Gerard outside his room at nine fifteen that night. Leaning against the banister in the dark Gerard gave an apologetic smile and averted his eyes to the floor.

“If you still want me, I’d really like to join you at Bella’s, despite what I said earlier,” his voice was firmer than he thought it would be and he was glad of it.

“I’ve found myself a pretty girl to take with me.”

Gerard blinked. Bert was taking a girl out? “Oh. Sorry, then. Have fun,” he was taken aback when Bert burst into raucous laughter.

“Did you know they’d taken gullible outta the dictionary, Gee?”

The word “really?” was on the tip of his tongue and he was about to ask why when he realised Bert was winding him up.

“You’d be shit outta luck and all dressed up for nothing. Girls are lame. They talk too much and taste stupid,” Bert was almost all the way down the stairs and Gerard was still standing there staring at the empty space in front of him trying to figure out the words in his head and if Bert was telling him in a roundabout way that he was gay and then the front door was slamming shut and Gerard still had two whole flights of stairs to get down before he could ask what just happened.

The sound of his feet slapping the pavement as he ran made him wince and he slowed down to make them a little more quiet. He was afraid to shout out in case a gang heard him, and to be quite honest he was a little bit annoyed that Bert had left him behind when he knew how vulnerable Gerard was. So he was pretty shocked when he heard his name being called from behind him in Bert’s voice, and someone else’s shoes hitting the pavement much more quietly than his own.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Bert wasn’t out of breath in the slightest even though he had obviously run faster and harder than Gerard, who was doubled over and struggling to breathe. He felt Bert’s hand on his shoulder and shrugged it off, wishing he could shout at the top of his voice at the injustice of it but was too short of breath to do any such thing. He noticed, from his position facing the pavement that Bert was wearing shorts again, and his legs were the most womanly legs Gerard had ever seen in his life. Had he been able to, he would have laughed until he cried. Instead he straightened up and stared at the giggling Bert.

“What the hell were you thinking? I said I would be in the kitchen whenever you were ready and then you go rushing out of the door so fast I thought your ass was on fire!” Bert was obviously amused by the whole event.

“What was I thinking? You’re the one that’s just made me run a mile fearing for my life and there’s something wrong with me? Alright, whatever. I’m about more starving than all of everyone in Africa right now, so can we get a move on?” Gerard tried to be heard over Bert’s high pitched giggle. Knowing that he’d failed he grabbed Bert by the shoulder and proceeded to drag him to the rest of the way to the Italian restaurant.

************

“Know what we should do, Gee?” Bert said on the way back home, holding Gerard’s hand again. Truth be told, Gerard wasn’t scared of anything that could be out here anymore, but it was somehow comforting to hold the boy’s hand and it made Gerard feel warm inside.

“No, Bert. I don’t know what we should do. Tell me.”

“We should go see the fuckin’ White House! I never really clicked that I was in the same State as it, and I bet you’ve never seen it. It’s going to be the biggest pile of shit ever, we should totally go!” Bert was bouncing on the soles of his feet as they walked and his excitement was contagious.

“You know, you’re right! And we can go see the obelisk too. There’s so much to do in Washington. So much art…” He trailed off wistfully.

“We could go see some art if you wanted?” Bert offered, squeezing Gerard’s hand.

“I’d like that.” Gerard squeezed back. “I didn’t realise I was so close to the President. Should I feel glad about that? All I can think about is planting some gunpowder in the place.” Gerard sniggered but Bert’s face fell and he looked around with an emotion etched in his features that Gerard hadn’t seen there before. Fear.

“What? What is it?” Gerard gripped Bert’s hand tighter thinking it must be bad if it had the kid worried.

“Don’t say things like that! They might hear you!” Bert whispered loudly.

Gerard’s brow furrowed. “Who might hear us?”

“The Government, obviously! You never know who’s listening!”

Remembering how many times Bert had caught him out with his silly jokes before, Gerard burst into laughter and clapped his friend on the back. “Good one. That was funny.”

And then they were running and Gerard didn’t really know why but he tried to keep up anyway and then fifteen minutes later they were both panting behind the door to their respective rooms.

*************

Gerard woke up bright and early the next morning despite his late and frankly, rather exhausting night.

He’d not seen his hosts since he moved in two weeks before, and he felt that today would be a good day to ask Daniel what he might know about Bert. His boss would be getting antsy and if Gerard didn’t come up with something soon, he’d be pulled back to Jersey faster than you could say egg fried rice.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes, climbing out of bed and stumbling to the wardrobe. He grunted when he saw that he had only one pair of clean boxers and one clean shirt. He’d have to ask Daniel about a Laundromat as well then. He sniffed yesterday’s socks, and feeling satisfied that they would do, he pulled them on and pushed all the dirty clothes into his backpack.

The landing was deserted and dark, as it always was. Bert’s door was closed, and the sound of David Bowie drifted through it causing the brunette to smile at the boys eclectic music tastes. Singing quietly along to Ashes to Ashes, Gerard made his way down the stairs and knocked on the door Daniel had said was his.

“Bit early, isn’t it?” Daniel asked, even though he was wide awake.

“Oh. Yeah sorry, I didn’t think. I was wondering if I could talk to you about something,” Gerard posed it as more of a statement than a question.

“Sure, I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a bit alright?” and he closed his door.

Gerard made two cups of coffee while he waited, and sat at the table cradling his own. He closed his eyes and breathed in the steam, allowing the bitter smell of the coffee to invade his senses. His eyes flicked open as someone entered the kitchen and he watched Daniel pour four spoonfuls of sugar into the other mug before sitting down.

“What did you want to ask me about?”

“Bert McCracken.” Gerard watched Daniel for any reaction, and filed away a mental note at the sudden tension in his body.

“Him? Oh, he’s not very interesting. So, uhh, if there wasn’t anything else, I’ll be leaving,” Daniel let out a nervous laugh and rose from the table.

“Sit down.” Gerard surprised himself at the commanding tone of his voice, but was pleased when Daniel complied, “You do know something. Tell me.”

“I don’t, not really. He stays in his room when he’s home. We’ve had coffee together in here a few times when neither of us can sleep. He wasn’t very talkative at first, but then after a couple times we got talking about movies and he was friendly and cracked some jokes. He’s been here almost a year, and I’ve only seen him a few times. He goes out really early and comes home pretty late. Days he doesn’t go out he mostly stays in his room,” From Gerard’s face Daniel knew this wasn’t what he wanted to know. “People are… afraid of him.”

“Everyone?” Gerard pressed.

“No, not everyone.”

“Then who?”

“The gangs. They’re not scared of any one, but they’re all scared of him. I don’t know why so don’t ask. All I know is no one’ll say shit to Bert McCracken for fear of losing their balls, or worse,” Daniel’s eyes shifted between Gerard and the door as he spoke, and his voice was low.

“What do you mean, or worse?” Gerard knew that Bert could be violent, but he also knew that he didn’t carry a weapon out with him. So what had these people so scared? Daniel stayed silent, his eyes on the door as he opened and closed his mouth. “He’s not gonna hear us Dan, don’t worry. He went out about an hour ago,” Gerard tried to put Daniel’s mind at rest.

“I… Why are you asking all these questions?” Daniel’s face closed off and Gerard could tell he wasn’t going to get anything else out of him.

“I’ve made friends with him, we’re getting pretty close and I just wanted to get the scoop you know? It’s hard getting to know someone in a strange town and I knew you’d know some stuff. There never seems to be time for me to ask him,” It was partly truth, Gerard thought as Daniel blinked in disbelief.

“You made friends with him?” Daniel shook his head and stood up once again. “Good luck with that.”

“With what?” Gerard turned in his chair as the Chinese boy stopped in the doorway.

“Look, Gerard. Take my advice; Stay out of Camberwick Green,” Daniel said cryptically.

“Where’s that?” Gerard’s brow furrowed.

“I hope you never find out.”

Stay Out of Camberwick Green [4/?]

2007-11-20T01:12:05Z

Gerard stood in the dark corridor outside the room he knew to be Bert’s. He raised his hand to knock, but dropped it back down to his side instead. He was trying to formulate the question in his head when the door opened and Bert slammed into his chest.

“What the fuck?” the small boy exclaimed as Gerard grabbed his waist to stop him from falling.

“Sorry! I was going to ask if… I’m really sorry.” Gerard blushed as Bert looked up into his eyes.

“S’okay. I was off out… I’m in a hurry. Make it quick, yeah?” Bert made no move to get out of Gerard’s grip.

“I just wondered if maybe I could… I don’t know how to put it. I wanna thank you for saving me, the other night. Umm, in the alley?”

“It was less than twenty four hours ago. I remember. If you wanna thank me all you got to do is promise you won’t get in any more trouble.”

Gerard looked behind Bert at the door to his room. It was still slightly open, and Gerard could see in to the boy’s bedroom. There was a double bed which didn’t look like it had been slept in the night before, and a small table with a black duffel bag on top of it. A chair was in the middle of the room with what looked like a PlayStation controller on it. Bert pulled the door closed when he realised Gerard was staring in.

“No, I’m serious. I thought maybe like; I could do something for you? I could take a look at your laptop for you. Fix it. I’m good with my hands.” Gerard gulped.

“I can see that.” Bert smirked; Gerard was unconsciously tracing patterns into the skin where Bert’s shirt didn’t quite meet his pants. The smirk softened into a smile when Gerard blushed and ceased his ministrations. “You could take me to dinner. Just as a thank you, I mean. I know the best restaurant just across town. But I’m really fucking late so pick me up at seven thirty, here. If tonight’s good for you, obviously.” At the brunette's nod, he pulled himself out of Gerard’s grasp and practically flew down the stairs.

*********

Looking in the mirror inside his wardrobe door, Gerard sighed. The fact that Bert was the prime suspect in a series of unsolved murders had left Gerard’s mind completely. He knew, just from having spent a few hours with him that Bert wasn’t capable of killing anyone. Bert knew something about these murders though, Gerard was determined to find out what his connection to them was.

He’d chosen about five different outfits before settling on jeans, a black shirt and a black blazer. This way he was dressed half casual, half smart, even though he seriously doubted that this restaurant Bert had chosen was likely to be posh. He’d brushed his teeth earlier and shuddered when he looked in the mirror to see his black eye and split lip. He really hoped Bert wouldn’t crack jokes tonight; it was going to hurt a hell of a lot if his lip split open again.

Smoothing his dark hair down, he slipped his wallet into his inside pocket and took a deep breath. It was seven twenty-eight.

Bert opened the door with only his shorts and socks on. “I got back late. Come in, I got to get dressed.”

Gerard noticed that the duffel bag was gone, and the sheets on the bed were rumpled now. There was a Pearl Jam poster above the bed, and a Misfits one on the wardrobe door. He sat down hesitantly on the chair by the table and saw that it was indeed a PlayStation controller he’d seen earlier. He wondered briefly how Bert could afford a PlayStation when he didn’t have a job, evidenced by the fact he hadn’t left his room in a week. He was about to ask when he caught a glimpse of the boy out of the corner of his eye.

He had his back to Gerard and was pulling his shorts off to replace them with a pair of black cargo pants. Gerard could see a tattoo just above the boy’s butt crack, but he couldn’t make out the words. Bert took a plain white t-shirt out of the wardrobe and pulled it over his head. Gerard quickly closed his mouth as the boy turned around.

He knew he’d been caught staring and so he tried to crack a joke. “Nice boxers.”

Bert frowned. “I’m not wearing any.”

Gerard smiled to himself.

***********

They’d walked in comfortable silence to the restaurant, neither feeling the need to break the warm summer air with small talk. Gerard had been pleasantly surprised that the restaurant was Italian, but a little disappointed in the unoriginality of its name.

“This is Bella’s. Unoriginal, I know, but you wait till you taste their pizza, Gee! It’s like a little slice of heaven in your mouth! Do you like Italian?” Bert asked, his bubbly excitement ebbing away to a nervous worry.

“I’m half Italian. I was raised on pizza and pasta. In fact, to this day pizza is my favourite food.” Gerard gave Bert a reassuring smile; charmed by the nickname he’d suddenly accosted.

“Well, it’s more like a café than a restaurant. But I came and spoke to Francesco, that’s the owner’s son, this morning and got him to save us a place anyway. It’s kinda popular so I thought I’d better just in case, you know? I didn’t see the point in walking all the way here for it to be full and we’d have to fuck off somewhere else.”

“Aw Bert, until the profanity, that was almost romantic!” Gerard held the door open for Bert as they laughed and went inside.

They’d been given the booth in the back corner, and Gerard noted with some satisfaction that Bert had been right; most of the tables were occupied. He also noted, this time with an unprecedented glee, that most of the occupants were couples holding hands and sharing kisses over the table. Shocked at the delight that swept through him at this knowledge, Gerard hid his face behind the menu.

“Mister McCracken, what a pleasure to see you again so soon!” came a female voice from behind Gerard barely a minute later.

“Hey, Rosa.” Bert greeted. At the sound of his companion’s voice, Gerard realised that Bert was Mr McCracken and looked over at him briefly, eyebrow raised. “Looking as fine as ever. How’s Francesco treatin’ you? There’s no reason for me to rough him up or anything is there? You know I will.” And he graced her knuckles with a soft kiss.

Gerard felt an unusual twang of jealousy at these words, but was immediately relieved when he glanced up and saw that Rosa was at least seventy years old.

“Ever a charmer, aren’t you, you rascal? And you’ve got someone with you today! How unlike you, Robert; I’ve never seen you with friends before. What’s this young man's name then? Stop hiding behind that menu and let old Rosa have a look at you boy.”

Putting the menu back down on the table, he looked up at the old lady. “Err… I’m Gerard. Nice to meet you.” He managed a weak smile. The woman reminded him of his own grandmother; both intimidating despite their short stature, rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes.

“Gerard here is buying me dinner ‘cause I saved his skin last night. He was out after hours. Jin caught up to him. That’s the reason for the black eye and shi… uhh, stuff.” Bert caught himself in the nick of time and Gerard had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing aloud. “So we’ll have two of your finest pepperonis please, Rosa.”

“He looks like a good boy, Robert. Perhaps a little too old for yourself, but then what does age matter in love?” Rosa said, quite dreamily, before drifting off to the kitchen.

Gerard didn’t know where to put his face, and from the looks of it, Bert didn’t either.

Finally Bert spoke. “So uhh… that’s Rosa. She’s been like a mother to me since I came here. She can be a little bit… outspoken, but I don’t really think she realises she’s doin’ it half the time. Amazin’ cook though, Gee. You’ll be impressed even if you are Italian.”

“Since you came here? How long ago was that?” Gerard asked, steering away from the subject of Rosa and onto what he was in Washington for.

“About a year, I guess.”

“From where?”

“Little town called Orem in…”

“Utah. Yeah, I know it.” Gerard interrupted. “Why’d you come to Chinatown?”

“Fresh air. Change of scenery. The wonderful people. Take your pick.” Bert mumbled, looking away.

“Well, what have you been doing since you got here? You bring the PlayStation with you from Utah?”

“Why? Does it matter?” Bert was suddenly withdrawn, taking his elbows off the table and leaning against the back of the chair. He searched Gerard’s eyes questioningly, trying to understand why he wanted to know such trivial things.

“No reason. Just wanted to get to know you is all. Forget I said anything.” It was Gerard’s turn to mumble, and he was extremely grateful for the appearance of an unmistakably Italian girl holding their pizzas.

“Hey, Bert.” She smiled, fluttering her eyelids. “Here’s your pizza. Grandma made it just how you like it.” She placed the pizza on the table before giving Gerard an appraising look. “Enjoy your food.”

“It looks good.” Gerard said, trying to break the ice he’d stupidly managed to create. He sighed in relief when Bert nodded emphatically.

“It really does taste as good as it looks. Trust me, try it.” And with that, he tore off almost half of his pizza and shoved it in his mouth.

“If I wasn’t starving to death, I think you’d have probably just put me off my food.” Gerard laughed and Bert shrugged, swallowed his huge mouthful and flashed a toothy grin at his partner.

Gerard cut a small slice of the pizza and looked at it for a few minutes.

“God, just fuckin’ eat it will ya?” Bert kicked Gerard under the table.

“No need for violence, Robert.” Gerard winked and bit into the warm bread.

As the taste of the pizza hit his tongue, Gerard closed his eyes and groaned. It was delicious. “Fuck me, you were right. This is the best pizza I’ve ever had, Bert. Thanks for bringing me here.”

Over an hour and four espressos later, Gerard paid the boy behind the counter. He was short, around the same age as Gerard, with dark hair that flicked out around his ears and dark brown eyes.

“Thanks Francesco. See you tomorrow.” Bert gave the boy a hi-five and lead Gerard outside. “Better get a move on, Gee. It’s almost ten.” They started walking before Gerard stopped in the middle of the street.

“Bert. I thought we couldn’t be out after eight? I don’t want to get into another fight. It’s like an hours walk from here. Maybe we should find somewhere-”

“Hey, man. I never said I couldn’t be out after eight. I only said you couldn’t be. You’ll be fine.” Bert bumped shoulders with the taller man.

“Hey, no offence or anything, but you’re tiny. I really don’t think you’re gonna hold off a whole gang if we bump into one.”

“No one’s gonna pick a fight with me, Gee. But if you’re really scared I’ll hold your hand.”

And he did.

Hayley Williams

2007-11-07T20:19:34Z

The influx of icons with the ginger retard on is making me wish I were even more blind.
She's revolting, I really wish she'd grow up and get over herself.

My tattoo scared the shit out of me again this morning. I've had it since april, you'd think I would be used to it by now?

punk covers of 80's pop songs are ftw. y/y?

Stay out of Camberwick Green [3/?]

2007-10-27T15:38:22Z

As people started to wake up in the neighbourhood, noise and smoke filled the air. From his bedroom, Gerard could hear pots and pans clanging together as breakfast was cooked, water running as people showered. He could hear mothers shouting at their children in Chinese and in English to get dressed for school. Cars were starting and driving down the street and people were chasing after them, shouting their last goodbyes until the evening.

Stretching, Gerard extricated himself from the bed sheets and crossed the room to his wardrobe.

Since Bert had left six days previously, Gerard hadn’t seen him again. He’d spent the last few days locked up in his room as far as the older boy could tell, not making any noise at all.

Gerard however, had spent the last week walking around town trying to make a few friends and find out places to talk to the locals. He’d sampled a lot of authentic Chinese cuisine, and already decided on his favourite of the local restaurants. Funnily enough, it was the one he was staying at.

The streets were a dangerous place to be after eight pm though, and Gerard was to find out the hard way.

He was whistling, on his way home in the dark after buying some milk. He turned the corner and saw three teenage boys step out from behind the garbage cans, blocking his path.

“Hi.” He smiled and continued to walk.

“Who you think we are, man? Your friends? We ain’t yo’ friends, motherfucker. You don’t say hi to us.” The middle one replied.

Gerard stopped. Assessing the situation, he knew he didn’t stand a chance against the three of them. He was a fatass, plain and simple, and they’d have no trouble catching up to and kicking the shit out of him if he ran.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble, please.”

“He don’t want no trouble, boys! Aww,” the largest of the three jeered at Gerard, his eyes wide and his teeth bared. “He shouldn’t be on our turf if he don’t want no trouble. Tell him, Jin.”

The third boy was tiny, but his voice was menacing, more threat came from his words than those of the two larger boys. “You shouldn’t be on our turf. We don’t pick fights with anyone if they don’t come on our turf.”

The first punch was to the stomach and for the first time in his life, Gerard was glad of his affinity for cheeseburgers. As the boys hand pulled back, Gerard doubled over and fell to the floor as the second punch hit him in the kidney. He brought his arms up to his head and his knees to his chest as they kicked him repeatedly. Something warm and sticky was running down his chin and dripping onto the floor, and he realised his nose and mouth were bleeding.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh but he didn’t feel the pain of it. The kicking had stopped and next thing he knew, he was being hoisted off the floor.

“This guy here is a friend of mine. I ever see you anywhere near him again you pig fuckers, and I’ll wear your teeth as a necklace. You got that?” the person supporting Gerard said, his voice hard and cold.

“We didn’t know, man! We swear, man.”

Gerard briefly wondered who it could be that was causing his attackers voice to shake with so much fear, before he promptly passed out.

***********

“You gotta wake up. I can’t carry you up these stairs, Gerard. Wake up!” Someone’s hands were shaking his shoulders, their fingers pulling apart his eyelids, slapping his face softly. Groggily he opened his eyes but was unable to make anything out except blackness. “There you are big guy. Come on; let’s get you into your bed. Think you can walk up the stairs?” this voice was soft and concerned, nothing like the cruel voice of the person in the alley.

Remembering he’d been asked a question, Gerard nodded slowly. “I can’t see. Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t.”

Two minutes later he felt a hand in his trouser pocket, fishing out the key to his room. He heard the door unlock and groaned as his back hit the cool softness of his bed. His rescuer was saying something about not moving, about water, about blood, but Gerard wasn’t listening. His right hand was freezing and he couldn’t understand why. He blinked slowly, twice, three times, willing the light to penetrate his retina and allow him to see again.

A warm cloth was being placed on his head; fingers were pushing his brown hair back from his face and out of his own blood. The hand caressed his cheek for a moment before dabbing another wet cloth underneath his nose.

“It’s not broken. You’ll be okay. They’re not the worst people you could have run into round this place. You should be glad it’s them who stopped you, and not Shin and his boys. You should be really glad.”

“Yeah,” Gerard breathed. “I’m fucking thrilled. I’ll go thank them in the morning.”

“I’m serious, Gerard. If Shin had found you, I… he would have killed you. It’s that simple. Don’t go out after eight again, you hear me? Promise me you won’t go out after eight.”

“I promise. I still can’t see anything.”

The light flooded into his eyes as his saviour flicked on the bedside lamp. He squeezed his eyes shut and squinted until he became accustomed to the new brightness in the room. He looked at the person cleaning his wounds, making out straggly black hair and alabaster skin.

“Bert? I should have guessed. I thought Daniel…”

“As if anyone’s gonna be scared enough of Danny to stop beating up a fat white boy like you? No offence.”

“None taken. Because don’t look now, but you’re white too.”

Clearly Bert was confused and hadn’t got the joke. “I meant no offence about calling…”

“I know what you were saying it for,” Gerard interrupted. “I’ve always been a fat ass; I don’t need you to tell me.” He closed his eyes again, not wanting to see the guilty look on Bert’s face.

“You’re not really fat though. Not really. Just a bit… chubby. It’s nice. I like it. I mean…” Bert trailed off and became increasingly interested in the area behind Gerard’s left ear.

The older of the two opened his eyes and managed a smile at the boy’s awkwardness. “Really? Never knew you were that way inclined.”

Bert’s eyes flicked back to his, and he opened his mouth to object. Gerard winked. “Oh yeah,” Bert nodded emphatically. “I love me a chubby boy. It’s a real shame though, there’s not really too many of those around here.” He played along, catching onto the joke this time. “Oh look! I’m sitting on one! In his bed too, so I don’t have to hang around awkwardly tomorrow morning. Damn, it sure must be my lucky day.”

Gerard laughed and Bert continued to dab his face with the now red cloth. The lull in the conversation caused Gerard to remember that his fingers were freezing.

He glanced down at his right hand and grinned.

He was still holding the milk.

I'm failing!

2007-10-16T22:00:28Z

I cant see people in shows or films as characters anymore, only as the actors =/
I need to act again so bad. I might pretend to be a different person everyday, like I used to do when I missed a year of school.
It's the only thing I have ever wanted to do. It feels like a part of me is missing, now that I'm not acting anymore.
If anyone knows of a play I could be in, let me know.

I've got really tatsy vegan biscuits from Sainsbury's. They're so nice.

I'm gonna forget Emy's birthday on friday, I just know it. Someone should remind me.

Also, Peter Sarsgaard turns me on. Tell me I'm not the only one.

I love.

2007-10-15T04:12:29Z

I love how the keys on the keyboard get a little shiny patch on them where they're constantly pressed.
I love the sound of rain hitting the window.
I love waking up and just lying still, listening.
I love sitting in silence on a grassy verge with you.
I love watching cigarette butts explode when they're thrown out of a car.
I love being pressed against cold metal by thousands of sweaty strangers, staring up at people who live for this too.
I love finding things from your childhood and realising everything was so much cooler when you don't know any better.
I love hearing new bands and feeling like you've loved them just as long as the bands you've known for years.
I love seeing men with their little children, and being patient and loving.
I love speeding down a hill on my BMX, the wind rushing through my hair and stinging my eyes.
I love action films that have romance as a sub story.
I love watching a film that you love but haven't seen for years, and discovering all your favourite things about it all over again.
I love doing the same with books.
I love the smell of comic book stores.
I love the feel of getting into a cold bed after a long day, and feeling the aches dissipate.
I love the feel after you let your hair down after being in a high ponytail.
I love the feel of falling, and the knowledge that anything can happen once you hit the ground.
I love standing outside my house at stupid o'clock in the morning, and feeling like I'm the only person in the whole world.
I love laying on my trampoline and staring up at the stars.
I love looking for something and finding something you thought you'd lost and you're so happy you forget what you were looking for in the first place.
I love Billy Corgan's mouth.
I love it when a drawing comes out exactly how I want it to.
I love acoustic songs.
I love how much self control I have.
I love knowing that I was strong enough to help myself get off drugs and alcohol, it's something I can be proud of.
I love that my friends stood by me the whole time and held my hand, even though they couldn't do it themselves. None of them are around anymore.
I love knowing I have a portfolio that could get me into any art college, and no one will ever see it.
I love watching my cat sleeping.
I love the scottish accent.
I love reading the dictionary.
I love that my rat makes me feel sleepy when he sniffs my ears and face.
I love black and white photographs.
I love that two of the people who love me most live on opposite sides of the world, so I can't push them away.
I love it when a bands new album is better than you expected, and still sounds like the band you know and love.
I love it when it doesn't sound like them at all, and is still wonderful.
I love anything that has no possibility of realism.
I love hope.
I love that Eighteen Visions' 'Let Go' just came on, and it made me cry for no reason.
I love that I could go on forever, but I'm going to stop now.

Tell me what you love.

Stay out of Camberwick Green [2/?]

2007-08-30T20:03:15Z

Gerard was not a police officer. He’d never wanted to be a police officer even as a child, despite his intense desire to be a hero. By fourteen, he’d had brief romances with almost every profession his mother could think of. A police officer had never been one of them. When his grandmother had taken him to an Art Exhibition in New York for his fourteenth birthday, he set his heart on being an artist, even abandoning further education to sit at home and paint with his grandma.

His father wasn’t particularly fond of his eldest son being an artist. He was under the impression that any man who painted for a living was homosexual. He’d almost had a heart attack when Gerard revealed that he was, in fact, a ‘fag.’ It was only a joke, intended to rile him up and test the so-called ‘unconditional love’ of his family. His mother had been delighted, telling him that she’d love him no matter what. His little brother, Mikey, had said he couldn’t stop Gerard from doing what he wanted with his dick, and ‘good on you for pissing off dad so much.’

The visions started when he almost sixteen. He’d been in the park with her, when he suddenly saw his girlfriend kissing the star football player in the school hallway. He fell backwards off the swing in shock. Lisa had shrieked and rushed forwards to help him, only to be met with a raised arm and a snarl. “Leave me alone!” he spat viciously at her. She looked confused, and reached forwards to grab him again.

“I said leave me the fuck alone, you cheating bitch!”

Lisa stared at him incredulously before bursting into tears and running away. Dazed, Gerard had sat on the cold ground for what seemed like an eternity trying to figure out what had happened. Two days later, when he saw the scene happen for real, he thought he must be going crazy. His grandma had helped him to realise that he was seeing into the future, something she herself had lived with for over fifty years.

He’d been approached by the police three years ago, on his eighteenth birthday. They’d heard about his ‘gift’ and wanted to offer him a ‘fantastic opportunity.’ Gerard had declined politely, and again, and again when they continued to visit his home in the following weeks. Eventually, after talking with his grandmother, he accepted their offer, and was taken to the local station to look over the files of a few unsolved cases.

Gerard felt stupid at first. He’d never had a vision about anything worse than tripping over his shoelace in the supermarket, so he didn’t really get why he’d been chosen to help with police work. Given his own small office, he was loaded with brown envelopes and hundreds of sheets of paper in various different colours. After hours of pouring over the blurred photographs and half-hearted notes and getting nothing, Gerard sighed and left the station to collapse on his couch ready to return the next day.

This happened three times a week for a month. Growing increasingly frustrated at his inability to help, the brunette became grumpy and rude, yelling at people he’d never met before and destroying the perfect order his office was kept in. Determined to leave the unwanted job for good, he’d grabbed a photograph off the desk intending to rip it to shreds. Instead he was knocked to the floor by his first vision in a month.

Images flashed past his eyes like a broken movie reel, and he had to steady his breathing in order to calm the pictures racing past his eyes.

He saw a young girl crouching behind a tree, her hand clapped over her mouth so as to stop any noise from escaping. There was a blue X sprayed onto the bark behind her, and the words ‘Kate 4 Dave 4eva’ etched into the trunk. She heard the crunch of a twig behind her and whimpered, pressing her fist into her mouth even harder. Gerard reached towards her, surprised when his hand just fell through her arm. He had forgotten that he wasn’t really here, that he was simply an observer.

He watched in horror as she was discovered by a huge man and was pinned against the tree. The girl tore at her attackers face with her nails and forced off the bandana covering it. Gerard squeezed his eyes shut as she was raped, trying desperately to block out the sounds. Suddenly, remembering what he was doing here, he forced his eyes open as the man began to bury the pretty blonde and Gerard retched when he realised she was still alive. He stared at the other mans face, took in every detail, before the images stopped and he saw the ceiling of his office once more.

Shaking, he forced himself to his feet and gripped the edge of his desk for support. He wiped the sick off his face with a tissue and used a fresh one to pick up the photograph. He wasn’t taking any chances.

The photo was of a red head, a girl of seventeen who had gone missing a couple of weeks previously. Gerard noted that it wasn’t the same girl as he’d just seen but assumed that the man had already… suddenly it hit him. His visions were of things that hadn’t happened yet. He could save her; he could stop that pretty little girl from dying.

He raced out of his office, shoving past the officers and mail carriers and whoever the hell else was in his way. He shoved open the door to Detective Harding’s office, panting.

“I… got one. This.” He threw the photo onto the desk, grimacing as he saw the bits of puke on it. “It’s not… her though. Someone… someone else.” Gerard paused, trying to catch his breath. “A blonde. About fifteen. There’s a woods. There’s blue and, and red crosses on the trees. I couldn’t hear a road or anything near by, but people have been there. There were things carved into the tree. ‘Kate for Dave forever,’ and stuff like that. He’s going to rape her, and bury her alive.”

Detective Harding smiled. “Kate for Dave, huh? Blue and red crosses? Well done kid, sounds like it could be… oh, any woods in the local area.”

“But…”

Gerard’s face fell. He struggled through the memory to remember anything else that might help identify the place. Bile rose up his throat again as he remembered the girls scream, the cruel, empty laugh of the rapist, the sound of her cries becoming muffled as dirt hit her broken body. But he failed to find any feature that might distinguish these trees from any other.

“Figure out anything else, you lemme know, kid.” Harding spoke again, his voice piercing through the teenagers thoughts. Gerard nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

Gerard’s head hung low as he walked back to his small office. He clicked the door closed behind him, and slumped down onto his knees.

The tears came hard and fast, streaming down his face, over his lips before splashing onto the papers he had left lying on the floor. The sobs burst out from his body as he stuffed his fist in his mouth. The movement was so similar to the one the little girl had made earlier that the teenager cried harder, beating his fists against the floor and biting his lip until he drew blood. Eventually the sobs died down into random intakes of breath, sharp and clear and Gerard raised his head off the cold ground, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeves.

He reached forwards to clean up the mess he’d made during his rage earlier and so began piling the papers back into their correct files and folders. He unconsciously held his breath every time he touched a sheet of paper, fearing that it would show him more horrific scenes of abuse.

Finally, sighing, he placed the last photograph into a folder labelled “Katherine Greenslade” and sat behind his desk on the floor.

Gerard closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his knees.

He didn’t understand why there was nothing he could do. This was his job. This was what he was being paid for. People were paying their taxes so he could sit in this tiny little room and do nothing.

He sighed again and lifted his head, intent on returning home. As he stood, his eyes caught a glimpse of something white underneath the filing cabinet in the corner. He toed it out with his shoe, before bending over to pick it up.

This time the vision lasted only a few seconds.

He was in a truck, heading north on a deserted road. Sandy hills stretched above them on the right, a hundred foot drop into tree tops on the left. Signs flashed past but the truck was moving too fast for them to be read. Clearly the driver knew where to go.

He heard a strangled sob from behind him, and spun round to see the girl tied up on the back seat. Knowing he could do nothing, he desperately tried to catch a glimpse of one of the road signs, a word, a few letters, anything.

And there it was. The truck had slowed to take a sharp corner, and Gerard had managed to catch a name.

QAF

2007-08-07T02:11:51Z

I'm really getting into it, and I've really come around to Brian. The humanity he showed in the last episode was wonderful, and it's made me see he isn't just about dick dick dick.
Justin is yet to prove himself.

The thing that really gets me though is that NOT THAT MANY PEOPLE ARE OPENLY GAY. you can't walk into a comic book store and fuck the salesman, and then into a supermarket and fuck the cashier, and then into a bank and fuck the teller and then into an art gallery and fuck the observers. It's really annoying how everywhere they go someone's checking out one of the protagonists.

Unless you live in Brighton.

I MISSED TICKETS FOR THE USED :(

Stay out of Camberwick Green [1/?]

2007-07-26T23:26:37Z

A/N: This story was started over three years ago with two OC's, so any similarity it bears to the Patricia Arquette show 'Medium' is coincidental. I was very fucking surprised when I saw that show. So don't sue me, or accuse me of stealing someone elses plot. Please let me know what you think.

At the peak of the violent crime wave in the early 1990s, Washington, D.C. was known as the "murder capital" of the United States. The number of homicides peaked in 1991, with 482 murders. Despite the high rate of violent crime, violence was not evenly distributed across the city, but rather was concentrated in specific neighborhoods - Columbia Heights, Adams Morgan, Logan Circle, Shaw, Le Droit Park, the East End of Downtown (Chinatown), Trinidad, Langston Lane, Montana, and some of the neighborhoods located east of the Anacostia River.

On July 11, 2006, Metropolitan Police Chief Charles H. Ramsey declared a "crime emergency" in the city in response to a rising homicide rate (the city had logged 13 murders since July 1, most notably the killing of a prominent British political activist in Georgetown).

************

Downtown Washington was somewhere Gerard had never wanted to visit, let alone live. Yet here he was, twenty one years old and knocking on the door of a Chinatown residence at night.

Gerard had never been one for fancy living, ever comfortable in dirty motels, shelters for the homeless or a friend’s couch. But this, this squalid street took the cake. He’d been warned that it wasn’t going to be particularly pleasant, but he was unprepared for the stench, so bad his eyes watered where he stood. Unprepared for the round eyes of the children huddled together in each doorway, so accepting of their fate they didn’t even raise their cupped hands. This wasn’t something he was used to.

In Jersey, the street kids were teenagers there by choice, having run away from home. They had no qualms about robbing you of everything you had. Here, they didn’t bother to waste their energy asking for money. Here, they were no older than ten years old. Here, they were sleeping in doorways because their parents had been killed by debt collectors, or died from starvation.

The brunette reached into his pocket and handed a $20 bill to the child closest to him.

“Get yourself some breakfast in the morning. And your friends, too.” He smiled warmly as the door opened behind him.

“What you want?” came the thick Chinese accent. “It very late. I go sleep. What you want?”

“I’m Gerard Way. I called about…”

“Yes. You are here for room. You come now.” The old man beckoned him inside. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as Gerard took a quick look around. The walls were a pale peach colour, decorated with ancient Chinese symbols. The carpet slightly worn, but clean. The stairs were to his left, dark wooden slats leading up to the murky blue hallway above. There were two doors on his right, and a doorway at the end of the corridor. He assumed the one at the end led to the kitchen, as there was no door, but a curtain of brightly coloured beads swung, hitting each noisily other as they resumed position. “You come now!” the irritated voice called from behind them. Gerard swiftly walked down the hall and moved the beads aside.

An older Chinese woman and a younger Chinese boy occupied a table in the middle of the room, quickly joined by the old man. There were four extra seats, and Gerard took one of them. “Sorry I’m so late. I had to stay a little longer than I had thought. My apologies.”

“No matter. I am Mr. Chang. This my wife, she speak only Chinese. This my son. We have two other residents. All residents have same rules. You no come into restaurant by back door. You no use bathroom on first floor. You no go in front room. Only back room permit for guest. You no speak to Mrs. Chang. You no leave bathroom light on. You only take shower on Thursday or Saturday. You no permit for other people in your room unless ask permission first. This all. My son show you to your room.”

The boy stood from the table and signalled for Gerard to follow him. Once they reached the stairs he spoke, “My father can be a little…overbearing at times. I’m Daniel.” He reached forward and took Gerard’s hand, shaking it tightly.

“Gerard.” He replied, “Why can I only shower two days a week?”

“Not enough water for everyone to take a shower everyday. My mother showers three times a day. My father twice. You can probably arrange with one of the other guests to use their shower if you really need it. They’re both on your floor so just give them a knock.”

Daniel stopped outside a door on the second floor. “This is your room.” Dan pressed a key into the other mans hand.

“Your bags were dropped off this morning. Keep your door locked at all times. Me and my folks are on the floor below. Mines the room at the end, if you want anything just give me a knock. And, I’d follow my father’s rules pretty well if I were you. He looks past it, but he could totally whip your butt and he doesn’t take any shit.” They laughed together for a while before Daniel bid him goodnight and Gerard let himself into his room.

It was small, but cosy. There was a single bed pushed against the wall under the window, a wardrobe in the corner and a small desk just inside the door. There was a pot plant on the desk and Gerard gave it a sniff before putting it on the floor.

He opened his backpack and took out a laptop. He sat at the desk and plugged the laptop in, opening his email immediately. There was a joke one from his brother, something about never picking up hookers. Gerard didn’t pay much attention and opened the one from someone called Amy. He skimmed it, snorting when it asked him if he would like to have a larger penis. Deleting that, he opened he next one and continued the sequence until they were all gone. 78 emails and none of them worth reading.

Resigned, he pushed his suitcase off the bed and crawled under the duvet. He silently cursed the person who’d chosen this place for him. He’d specifically asked for a double bed. As if he could fit his fat arse into a single comfortably. He pulled the blanket up over his head, and laid on his side, feet pulled up to his chest in the foetal position.

************

He awoke some hours later to find his suitcase empty, and his wardrobe full. Eyes widening, he leapt out of bed and threw open his backpack. His laptop was gone.

He flung open the door to see a figure outlined in the dark. He was illuminated from the front by a white light. A white light emanating from Gerard’s laptop.

“Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He screeched, ripping the computer from the boy’s hands. “Don’t take my fucking stuff!” Gerard checked the silver machine over; satisfied once he saw it was in perfect condition.

“Sorry dude. It’s just… mines broken. I didn’t think you’d wake up. I’m sorry.” The boy muttered as he stood and stared down at his socks. “I won’t do it again.”

“Damn straight. Did you put all my clothes away?” Gerard’s voice softened once he realised the kid meant his apology.

“Yeah. I didn’t know we had a new lodger. I like going in there to see the sun in the morning. It looked like you weren’t going to be up for a while and I was bored. I hope you don’t mind?” The kid shuffled his feet on the floor as he spoke, still not looking at Gerard.

“You stupid kid!” Gerard watched as the boy shrank back a little at his tone. “I’m joking, kid. I don’t mind. Saves me the trouble. I’m Gerard.” He frowned when the boy didn’t say anything. “That’s the part where you tell me your name, kid.”

“I’m not a kid!” he said defiantly, raising his face to look at the older man. “I’m almost nineteen. I ain’t no kid.”

The taller man smiled. “Alright. I was wrong. You’re not a kid. That’s just something I picked up off my boss. I’m Gerard.” He repeated, prompting the boy to reveal his name.

“I’m Bert. And I want to finish checking my e-mail.”

For the next hour, Bert sat on Gerard’s bed, checking e-mail, playing games and jabbering on about things Gerard had no interest in. Gerard watched Bert intently, as he picked fluff off of his socks, scratched his chin and bobbed his head to imaginary music. Suddenly he was aware that Bert was staring back.

“What?” Gerard asked warily.

“I said, how old are you?”

“Oh. I’m twenty one.” He answered.

“Good. I’m nineteen.” Bert replied, blue eyes twinkling.

“No, you’re not.” Bert’s face fell at Gerard’s comment.

“What? I… How do you know?” Bert questioned, his voice soft, his eyes downcast. Gerard was confused. Was the boy hiding something?

“You said… outside. ‘I’m almost nineteen.’ Bert? How old are you? Really?”

“Eighteen. It’s only two months to my birthday. I didn’t think it would matter.” But Gerard noted that the younger boy didn’t look into his eyes when he told him. “I didn’t lie! It wasn’t a lie, I promise!” Bert looked at Gerard now, his eyes watery.

Gerard crossed the room to sit next to the boy. “Hey, don’t be upset, I was just asking. Are you alright?” Gerard reached out and took Bert’s hand.

“Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” the boy shot back, pushing Gerard’s hand away. He rose, setting the laptop down on the bed, he crossed to the door and pulled it open. “Thanks for letting me use your laptop. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” With that he stepped out and closed the door quietly behind him.

Gerard picked up his laptop, noting that Bert’s hotmail account was still signed in. He knew that looking at the boys email would be an invasion of privacy so he clicked it closed and signed into his own account, ready to delete another hundred junk emails. To his surprise there were only four. Two were junk, one was another joke from his brother, but the last was one he’d been waiting for.

Dear Mr Way,

Please find attached the case file of the suspect.
Should you gain any information, please contact D.C.I Harding immediately.

Yours truly,
Julia Bergstrom.

Gerard clicked on the paper clip attachment and read the short brief. He was to find the suspect and gain knowledge of his plans. The suspect’s whereabouts were unknown, only that he had recently been seen in the Chinatown area. There was a short summary of the crime and a photo on the next page. The suspects name and age were also unknown. Gerard ran a hand through his shoulder length brown hair and sighed, scrolling down to the photo.

He breathed in sharply.

It was Bert.

I am disgusting.

2007-07-11T17:40:18Z

I ate forty three Limited Edition 'Doctor Who' Cyber Strawberry flavoured Frubes yesterday.

That's all really.

Err... is this freedom good?

2007-06-27T01:29:43Z

I had my last exam today.
It was two and a half hours of me struggling to remember the story line of A Winters Tale which I was taken to see SIX MONTHS AGO.
obviously I couldn't remember so I just made it up.

But it was the last one.
I don't know what to do now?

For those of you who are a bit older, what did you do after A levels if you didnt apply for Uni? I don't want to get a proper job because I wanna go to uni the year after, so I don't wanna make any commitments but I also don't wanna just sit around doing nothing. If I get a job that I don't care for, I'll end up doing what I did at the last one; not turning up and just being rude and see how long it takes me to get fired.

help me?

i finally saw braveheart.
it's brilliant. although Mel Gibson's accent was horrendous.

missxmoody @ 2007-06-04T02:42:00

2007-06-04T01:44:15Z

List seven songs you are into right now, no matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're not any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your LiveJournal along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to.

1. Smother Me - The Used
2. The Night Will Go As Follows - The Spill Canvas
3. Beethoven's Ninth - Beethhoven from A Clockwork Orange soundtrack
4. Pain - The Used
5. 7 Weeks - Gym Class Heroes feat. William Beckett <3
6. The Tide - The Spill Canvas
7. I'm Money - Zebrahead

lame.
I tag Anarae and Jesse and... I pretty much don't have seven people to tag who even read my entries. Maz&Rosie maybe?

Heres a butt rape for you f-list, courtesy of Lauren.

2007-05-26T01:20:25Z

Without looking at the questions below, list your top 10 favorite artists.

1. My Chemical Romance
2. The Used
3. Brand New
4. Funeral For A Friend
5. Spill Canvas
6. Smashing Pumpkins
7. Motion City Soundtrack
8. Misfits
9. Enter Shikari
10. Kids in Glass Houses

Q: What was the first song you ever heard by #2?
A: Poetic Tragedy. I hated it.

Q: What is your favorite album of #6?
A: Mellon Collie.

Q: What is your favorite Lyric of #7?
A: 'Did this party of two have you slightly confused?' or 'I am often interrupted or completely ignored'

Q: What is your favorite song by #9?
A: Okay Time for Plan B

Q: Is there a song of #1 that makes you sad?
A: Cancer. but that makes everyone sad. Ghost of You sometimes. Helena live.

Q: What is your favorite song by #8?
A: Angelfuck

Q: What is your favorite song by #10?
A: Raise Hell

Q: What is your favorite album by #8?
A: fuck. uhhh...Famous Monsters? their albums have the same songs on all of them anyway

Q: How did you get into #5?
A: I saw the lyrics of The Tide on denofangels and had to have it.

Q: What is your favorite song by #4?
A: This Years Most Open Heartbreak, or Your Revolution is a Joke.

Q: Who is your favorite band member of #1?
A: Gerard. sad but true.

Q: What is a good memory concerning #4?
A: WHERE ARE THE #3 QUESTIONS. umm, seeing them at taste of chaos when I was on my own, and putting on a welsh accent and pretending to be Matthew Davies. to get backstage. it almost worked, if Matthew hadn't answered the tannoy himself.

Q: What does #9 remind you of?
A: raves.

Q: Is there a song by #3 that makes you sad?
A: finally. the boy who blocked his own shot a little bit. mostly they just make me feel.

Q: What is your favorite song of #1?
A: Early Sunsets.

Q: How did you become a fan of #7?
A: Jesse! she used Autographs and apologies as one of the chapters in her B&G Shut Up&Play, so i downloaded Commit this to memory. I have loved them ever since. I love you Jesse :)

Q: What do you like to do while listening to #6?
A: lie in my bed.

Q: Which of the 10 has influenced you the most?
A: My Chemical Romance. and The misfits have been my favourite band since I was three or four, so theyve shaped me to be who I am. My Chemical Romance just finalised the details.

Q: Which artist makes you the most happy?
A: My Chemical Romance. Brand New make me feel every emotion all at the same time. so i guess them too.

Q: Which artist makes you the most sad?
A: Brand New. haha.

Q: Which artist makes the best dance music?
A: Enter Shikari

Q: Which artist have you liked the longest?
A: The Misfits

Q: Which artist have you liked the shortest?
A: Spill Canvas. at least they actually got a mention at last ¬.¬

Q: Are there any artists you will still be listening to in 20 years?
A: The Misfits, because theres no danger of them making a new album I'll hate. Probably My Chemical Romance. I cant imagine not loving them.

Q: What are you listening to right now?
A: Gym Class Heroes - Graduation Day.

Industrial Giant Sitting in a Garden Full of Chemical Plants

2007-05-18T18:55:04Z

Here's Holden.

Second one under the cut.

God Damn I love this boy.

I have never been so disappointed in my life.

2007-04-29T23:01:16Z

Brand New are the worst band I have ever seen live.
I cannot understand what has happened to Jesse Lacey.
Brand New are anti-Brand New.

Alexisonfire own my soul.