It made little sense at all, and had Lindsey Ballato just laid there on her bed for perhaps even hours afterwards, as she pondered what Jamia could possibly mean.

Because it wasn't like she'd really given Lindsey much of an explanation, was it? 

It was all words, loud and with a conceited, hidden meaning, and then, simply nothing, and silence besides the slam of a door, because Lindsey had fucked up for sure, Jamia had managed to convey that at the very least, but she just couldn't figure out how.

And after something like an hour of just in bed in a state of contemplation that made her wonder just why she'd wasted so much time on Jamia, not that time spent thinking of her was necessarily wasted, but, fuck... nothing made sense, and if Lindsey was sure of one thing in that moment it was the aforementioned.

And after that hour had elapsed, not that she'd been timing it or anything, she just grew tired of being tired, and got over being 'over it', because there were better things to do than mope around and obsess over something that was now little more than entirely out of her control; Jamia was Jamia, Jamia was her best friend, and they'd always been best friends, and perhaps they always would be, and Lindsey had an odd kind of faith in that.

Perhaps it was even that faith that had left her to leave the house with so little on her mind, because this was just an 'off' day, and it'd be fine tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, and they'd be fine, because they always were.

But deep down, Lindsey couldn't help but feel like, this time, somehow, something was just a little bit different.

She soon shook the notion, though, texting the something like the first six guys she came across in her contacts list, and agreeing to go over to the house of the first one who'd replied: fucking Brendon Urie, but it wasn't like Lindsey was in the right mind to at least have the dignity to be picky at this point, and well, it seemed like she did indeed owe Brendon Urie's balls an apology after all.

Of course, as to how such a debt would be settled would all be decided in Brendon's house, Brendon's bedroom, perhaps, and it wasn't Mikey, and it didn't matter, because even now, Lindsey's stupid infatuation with Mikey didn't matter; she just needed someone, and someone who would text back within twenty seconds, and someone that she could get to care after a blowjob or something, because if Lindsey had learned anything in life, it was that kindness most certainly did not come free.

She was certain she'd regret this tomorrow, or perhaps even as soon as it was over, or perhaps even whilst it was happening, but that meant nothing in her head right now, which was little more than a disarrayed mess of complex thoughts and stupid feelings, and of course, the world's worst emotions.

And she was perhaps even so fucked up to look at Brendon Urie like he was akin to Jesus or some other deity, or perhaps it was just the light from his hallway behind him as he opened the front door and smiled at her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, looking Lindsey up and down with widened eyes and raised eyebrows, and perhaps just too much distance between the two of them, because if Brendon was honest, he'd never really recovered from that incident last summer.

"Nothing's wrong, Brendon, I just, I just... want to see you." Lindsey brushed it off, pulling on the world's worst excuse for a smile as she stepped inside and closed the front door behind her.

"Something's seriously wrong if Lindsey Ballato optionally wants to speak to me." Brendon snorted a little, watching as Lindsey glared at him a little, and the boy with the massive forehead felt a sudden increase in concern for his balls, and dear god, those boots Lindsey was wearing today - no thanks.

"Wow? Is that what you really think of me, huh? I'm not such a heartless bitch, you know? If it's anyone being heartless right now, it's you-"

"Come on, come on, Lindsey, just tell me what's up." Brendon shook his head, perhaps even going as far as to smile at Lindsey, which seriously meant something in regards to the circumstances. "This isn't... this isn't-"

But before Brendon could even figure out what the next word in that sentence was, Lindsey had him pushed up against the wall and her lips on his, and perhaps she was something like okay for four point five seconds, but it all faded away as Brendon pushed her away from him, and she plummeted back down to reality.

"Don't fucking kiss me, Lindsey, just talk to me." Brendon shook his head, making his way down the hallway into the living room and gesturing for Lindsey to follow; the two taking a seat on a sofa with a very suspicious white stain, which both had made more than ample effort in avoiding. "Come on, I know something's up, just tell me."

"It's complicated-"

"Isn't everything?" Brendon raised his eyebrows, shaking his head a little as he did so. "Don't use that as an excuse, or at least tell me why the fuck you're optionally speaking to me right now if it isn't for advice, because that's the only use I could possibly have to you, come on, now, don't fucking kid yourself."

"Don't be so harsh on yourself-"

"For fuck's sake, Lindsey, I didn't kick myself in the balls, did I?" Brendon shook his head, pausing for a moment as he contemplated his next words, and just what the hell could possibly come of this mess. "Which boy fucked you over this time?"

"Why do you automatically assume that it's to do with that? Is the fact that I get with a lot of boys the most important aspect about my personality?" Lindsey retorted with an unexpected amount of vigour.

"Well, not your personality, but you... like... that's what people know you for, come on, you can't deny that."

"Ever heard of feminism, Urie?" Lindsey shook her head with a sigh, deciding against giving the fuckboy enough time to construct some form of response. "Anyway, me and Jamia had a fight, and it wasn't pretty... it was... it's a mess, and I don't know why it's affecting me this much, but-"

"Because she's your best friend?" Brendon raised his eyebrows at that, but didn't comment further, perhaps just for the sake of his balls.

"It's something more than that - it has to be."

"Are you sure you're not just a bit gay for her?"

"Fuck off." Lindsey shook her head, perhaps speaking before she could even process what Brendon was really saying, but perhaps, just perhaps, that was for the better. "I'm straight, she's straight, we had a fight, that's that."

And to some level, even Lindsey herself knew that deep down, it really wasn't.

-

There was a note on the refrigerator door from his mother, a text from Mikey, and Gerard was nothing but grateful to be alone, well, besides the sleeping boy upstairs.

Because his head was little more than the definition of a mess, and Bert had been relentless in texting, even after the call, and Gerard couldn't even chance glancing at them long enough to delete them, and of course, Gerard couldn't even imagine facing Frank like this, because he'd fucked up big time.

This was new; this was all kinds of news, and all kinds of different, and for one simple reason, and that was for the fact that unlike Bert, Frank actually gave a fuck, about Gerard, about them, about anything, and Gerard just didn't know whether he liked that or not.

Because sure, it was nice to feel like you've fucked up completely and then for the person you thought would hate you to think of it as nothing at all, but in turn, it's little but hellish for that same person to turn away and simply smile in response to whatever you told them.

Frank, on the other hand, always cared, and perhaps even just a little too much, but that could easily be Gerard being stupid, and well, Gerard often was.

And with his phone so close to him on the counter top, today was little more than another countless example, because as the nineteen year old made himself a coffee, he knew that the matter of unlocking that phone and reading those messages was little more than an inevitability, and it lay hand in hand in that state with Frank walking down those stairs, and screaming at him, or perhaps worse.

And still, with all this time, the nineteen year old still hadn't so much as a clue as to what he could say to either of them, and perhaps even the longer he spent pondering upon it, the more hopeless it seemed, and the more hopeless he seemed.

His phone began to vibrate against the countertop with more force this time: a call, but Gerard was intent upon ignoring it, as he busied himself with drawing out his every action as he attempted to make this damn shitty cup of coffee, and well, he nearly had somewhat of a heart attack as he nearly found himself dropping the aforementioned coffee, as the ringing came to an abrupt halt.

"Well, it didn't look like you were going to answer it any time soon." The shorter boy added as explanation, as he held Gerard's phone out in his left hand, putting it on speakerphone, and meeting Gerard's gaze, as Bert began to speak.

"Hey, Gee... mmm... I'm a bit drunk, but I really do think I love you, and I really do think you love me too, so come on, baby, s-say it, mmm?" 

And Frank raised his eyebrows, glancing between the phone in the palm of his hand, and Gerard: frozen, and almost lifeless, with a cup of coffee in his right hand.

"Go on then, 'Gee'." Frank made an effort when it came to glaring at the older boy, growing impatient as he waited for the response, for the end to this all, because Frank's heart was held up high by a thread, and at this point, Frank would perhaps even prefer the freefall and the safety of the floor than this kind of hellish, uncertain limbo. "We're waiting, aren't we, Bert?"

"Huh? Who's this?" Bert asked, just a little confused as to what the hell was going on, "where's my baby Gee?"

"This is Frank, you know Frank. Gerard told you about me when he thought I was asleep, but I was awake the whole time, and now he's fucking the both of us about, because he can't decide who he loves." Frank paused, meeting Gerard's eyes as he continued, "so honestly, I'm just as eager to find out what he has to say for himself as you do."

"I didn't expect you to be this feisty, you know?" Bert mumbled at Frank from down the phone, before continuing to address Gerard, "anyway, come on, Gee, fucking say something, anything, how about that, huh?"

"I don't know-"

"You said that already." Frank snapped, glaring at Gerard with everything he had left. "You said that last night, and you said 'I'm sorry' too, and you didn't mean either of them, so come on, fucking say something you mean for once, will you? Surely lying to yourself all the time must get so fucking tedious."

"Okay..." Gerard stepped forward, closer to the phone, ensuring that Bert could hear him too, "something I mean? I like Bert because he doesn't care about anything, whether that's me fucking up or me in general, and I hate him for exactly the same goddamn reason." Gerard paused, avoiding Frank's gaze as he did so, "and I like Frank because he cares about everything I say and everything I do, and I hate him for precisely the same reason."

"Fuck-"

"Bert's familiar, it's been forever and I feel safe with him, and he gives me free drugs, and sometimes it's dull, and we don't live in the same town anymore, and Frank's new, and inexperienced, and cute, and it's stupid, and he's Mikey's friend not mine, and he's overacting, because he's in high school, this is a high school thing, and-"

"Fuck-"

"Mikey doesn't want me to be with Bert, Mikey doesn't want me to be with Frank either, perhaps it makes sense now, so thank you for allowing me to express my emotions: I don't love either of you."

-

And that was how, Lindsey had ended up back at her house, and in turn, how Gerard Way had ended up on her doorstep, because it was sad smiles, and understanding, because in a low-key thing of way, Gerard reckoned that perhaps he and Lindsey would always have something, even if it could never be serious, and perhaps it was even better off that way.

But, the two didn't exactly leave much time for talking things through, to put it simply, and Lindsey's empty house was definitely put to full use, as was the lock on her bedroom door, because, you know, just in case.

And Gerard didn't think of either Bert nor Frank as he, to put it bluntly, fucked her, and in the same way, Lindsey didn't think of Jamia either, and perhaps it was easier for her in that moment, because she was certainly far from coming to terms with her sexuality, but in the scheme of things, this mess in Lindsey Ballato's head could be compared to little but hell itself.

And as they continued not to think about other people, the two slowly moved away from one another as the heat and irrationality faded away from the situation and the two fell back on the bed, still completely naked, but side by side, and perhaps just a little more certain of the fact that they had fucked up their lives than they were something like fifteen minutes prior.

Because this wasn't pleasure, or fun, or anything, really, this was just what needed to happen, and perhaps this was the best thing Lindsey had going for her, because Gerard was the only boy in the world who thought about her in the same way she thought about him.

That lovestruck vibe was the absolute bane of her existence.

And for Gerard, things were just simpler to deal with when you could deny their existence completely, and you had someone to lie to you about everything being okay, and Lindsey was hot, and perhaps her body was somewhat of a distraction from the mess last night and the two men that he'd rejected for the sake of his own arrogance, or something along those lines.

The two worked, and most certainly in the least orthodox of ways, but they worked, and that was that, and that was definitely one of Lindsey's better orgasms, not that Lindsey had really had many when she'd been fucking so many fuckboys, after all.

Gerard thought of it less as sex, and more so as stress relief, and the kind of intimacy that made him feel okay again: an alternative to talking things through, or a hug from a close friend, because actually, this was a hug from a close friend, just perhaps an advanced hug... a hug when his dick was involved too.

And Gerard was just glad that all hugs weren't like that, or perhaps, he wasn't, because if that was what hugging was like, he reckoned he'd be doing it a hell of a lot more often, and a hell of a lot less with his family, because... yeah, maybe hugs should stay the way they were.

The nineteen year old wasn't much of a fan of change, after all, and it should in this four year mess of a not quite relationship with Bert, and the fact that he didn't even question the fact that getting back with him was an inevitability at this point, it was just that Frank had thrown himself into the mix, and this wasn't how things usually were, and Gerard was fucking done when it came to dealing with it.

"So are we at the explanation state yet or not?" Lindsey broke the silence with a blunt enough tone to make Gerard jump a little, and in turn, Lindsey giggle a little, and perhaps then a little more in realisation at just how messed up this situation was.

But like, fuck the mainstream, and this totally fulfilled Lindsey's pretentious art fuck goth hipster aesthetic.

"The what?" Gerard asked, turning to Lindsey a little, and raising his eyebrows, brushing the locks of dark hair that had fallen into his face away from his eyes as he did so.

"You're fucked up, I'm fucked up, we fucked, and now we explain - I reckon that's how it works, don't you think?" Lindsey met Gerard with a smile, before pausing for a moment, as the two laid in silence. "There's this whole damn mess with Jamia, and then talking to Brendon Urie about it was the worst decision in the world, and I'm all bad decisions and good fuck, and perhaps I need something else in my life."

"What happened with Jamia?" Gerard asked, watching as Lindsey's gaze grew distant and somewhat contemplative, and even just a little softer in a way.

"We had an argument; some stupid shit, and then Brendon's advice was limited to telling me to date her or something along those lines, and it's stupid, but I started thinking about it, you know? And it's weird, because I have fucked so many boys, but just boys..." Lindsey trailed off, meeting Gerard's gaze, "what do you think I should do?"

"I think you should realise that your life isn't bad porn and that the situation to all girl on girl arguments isn't a fuck or something along those lines: apologise to her, for Christ's sake, Lindsey."

"But it's hard, and I... I'm good with the other kind of hard, if you know what I mean?" And Gerard probably should have slapped her for that one. "And now come on, it's your turn, Way, tell me all about how you ruined your life today, why don't you?"

"Yesterday, I invited Frank over, and it wasn't a date, but it was a date, but don't tell anyone I said that, especially not Frank, especially not Mikey, but we ended up staying over, but nothing happened, because he made a joke or something, and I reacted badly, and I thought he was asleep, and he wasn't, and Bert, my ex, called me, and... Frank heard everything we said, and it was messy, and messier this morning, and Frank got Bert on speakerphone and made me pick between them, and it was horrible, so I rejected both of them, and got the fuck out of there, and I, didn't know where to go, you know? And I saw you posted that status about fuckboys, and you're... you're easy to talk to-"

"Fuck, you mean." Lindsey rolled her eyes at him, "I'm easy to fuck, you mean."

"That's not what I-"

"It's what everybody means, isn't it, Gerard?"

-

hey pals lmao i havent died yet thats good lmao im actually having a really rad time rn lmao im gonna sleep so much tonight its gonna be great !!! im so excited, lmao you know ur sad af when the most exciting thing in ur life is sleeping lmao actually im wrong, the most exciting thing ever is the fact that we get oitnb series 3 in 3 weeks im actually gonna die, i don't even know why im still talking rn tbh votes and comments are cool hey i love you all lots hey <3