You’re sitting on the edge of the bleachers during P.E., pretending to watch the dodgeball game. But your attention is elsewhere—locked on Gerard Way, who’s tucked into the far corner of the field. He’s hunched over a battered sketchbook, black shaggy hair falling into his face, a streak of red eyeliner smudged beneath his eye. He’s completely lost in whatever he’s drawing, oblivious to your dreamy stare.

“Honestly, you’re hopeless,” Layla groans beside you, snapping her gum. She glances at Gerard, who’s now chewing the cap of his pen like his life depends on it. “Him? Seriously? Babe, he’s a loser.”

But you barely hear her. Gerard brushes back his hair with ink-smudged fingers, flips a page in his sketchbook, and you let out a soft, involuntary sigh. He doesn’t even know you’re there, but you can’t help falling for him anyway.