#frank ieros strap day

[frnkiebby]

oh. okay.~🎃

[callmeblake]

Frank Iero of My Chemical Romance at Palasharp Venue on March 7th 2011, Milan, Italy - World Contamination Tour

Photo Credit: Rodolfo Sassano

[xx-vergil-xx]

about me

tagged by the homie @wizardofgoodfortune <3

nickname: in real life my name ends up getting shortened to han on occasion and i vibe w that, and also vergil or verg is good :)

sign: taurus sun, leo moon, scorpio rising

height: 5’ 4”

last thing i googled: “hamlet costumes horatio” for some drawing inspo for a thing i have been relentlessly doodling for several days

song stuck in my head: g.i.n.a.s.f.s. by fall out boy. oh song of songs. love of my life. “it’s a strange way of saying that i know i’m supposed to love you” GOD

amount of sleep: a catastrophic like 3 hours because i had to get up at 5 to catch a plane and could NOT sleep. u know how when u have to be up at a specific and unusual time u keep waking up thinking u overslept? yeah. gonna be napping on my first flight for sure

dream job: writing some tv show for me and my best friends to be in. the dream is really just like one of those comedy shows that’s just clearly a couple people who are friends having a fuckin blast. that and just generally being a writer. or designing costumes for things

wearing: bc i cannot be caught slipping even on a day that will be spent mostly on planes — black velour tracksuit (cropped jacket, very early 2000’s), lil spaghetti strap tank top, and platform docs <3

movies/books that summarize me: this is very hard but i’ll go for a sampling of beloveds — blue velvet (dir. david lynch), house of leaves by mark z danielewski, and dirty dancing

favorite song: CONSTANTLY changing but right this minute it’s either modern love by david bowie OR i’m like a lawyer with the way i’m always trying to get you off by fall out boy

aesthetic: early 2000’s streamlined alt/punk? my wardrobe is borderline exclusively black. less textured than true goth or punk but heavily inspired. aspiring to thierry mueller/that one fall 2012 givenchy ready to wear collection

favorite authors: extremely challenging but we’ll go with rainer maria rilke, john steinbeck, and terry pratchett

random fun fact: uuh in middle school i faked a british accent at an event w another school so well i tricked three kids into thinking i was an exchange student. i was deep in my sherlock cringe but man was i good at that accent. in case that isn’t fun enough i also have a guitar pick from frank iero (which imbues me with the power to shred thank you for the venom)

alright, tagging the gang (and ofc no obligation only if ya feel like it)!! @aberfaeth @fishfingersandscarves @moorishflower @landwriter @pellaaearien @wordsinhaled @menthol-drops @ghostboyjules <3 <3 <3

[velvetdestroya]

Ever get the feeling that you're never all alone?

Frank giving his all at La Cigale, Pairs, France on November 1, 2010. 

The concert is part of The World Contamination Tour to support the band’s fourth studio album, “Danger Day: The True live of the Fabulous Killjoys.”

[photo credit; emmgie]

[nursegracecreates]

Salvador Anthony Fisher Headcanons

So you guys should know by now, I'm a self shipper and proud, I like sharing my thoughts with you guys! Now, these headcanons are for my personal Sal Fisher. Sal is actually my first self ship, but he's been fine with not being in the spotlight... Until now. Strap in because this is gonna be a ride, but, may I introduce

Salvador Anthony Fisher

(Under the cut because of length)

Born: December 13, 1976 to Diane Elizabeth Collins Fisher and Henry William Fisher at 3:33am in Hoboken, NJ.

Diane was a fan of Salvador Dali, and wanted to pay tribute.

Facial scarring happened in late summer of 1984, when Sal was seven.

Diane stepped in front of a shotgun blast meant for Sal.

Shrapnel made of shotgun ammo and bone fragments from Diane caused the scars

Plastic surgery wasn't the best back then, but the doctors tried their best, salvaging what they could and using skin grafts from Sal's back to patch some places.

He's got three scars on his back that look like patches in a blanket from the skin they took for grafts.

Diane died shortly after Sal's initial surgery, and intellectually, Sal knew she was gone. But he stayed in a state of denial for several months after her death

After he was released from the hospital, Sal still explored and adventured in the surrounding area around his house.

He found Gizmo one day and Gizmo just kind of... Injected himself into the family

He helped heal the rift that was starting to form between Sal and Henry. Henry stopped acting so angry, but his negligence continued throughout Sal's teenage years.

After moving to Nockfell and meeting the gang, Sal really came into his own.

I mean, yeah he still had bullies, but the gang made up for it and made it so much more bearable.

We've talked about Sal's bully experiences before, but we'll do it again.

Even back in Jersey, Sal was a magnet for bullies. He didn't move to Nockfell until he was 15, so Sal had more than his share of bullies by the time he got to Nockfell.

They always want to rip off Sal's prosthetic so they can make fun of his face.

That's why he started wearing pigtails. It makes it harder to pull his prosthetic off

But it also exerts a lot of force on Sal's neck when someone tries.

So Sal's got some neck problems. But he knows how to fight, so it's not like he's helpless.

Sal took physical therapy for his neck problems

It's resulted in him having a pretty thick neck.

He mostly took the physical therapy because his neck injuries were causing migraines.

Takes: antidepressants (which he hates), antianxiety meds (which barely work) and migraine meds.

When Sal met Larry, there was an instant bond, like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

Sal was Larry's "brother from another mother"

Ash and Today are actually a year ahead of Sal in school. Larry got held back a year, but Sal managed to graduate early

No matter the subject, Sal got top marks in all of his classes. School came easily to Sal, his brain like a sponge, absorbing any and all information.

Got over his crush on Ash relatively quickly, deciding he liked her more as a sister or friend

Became good friends with Travis, but let it low profile, not wanting to make waves for Travis at home

When Henry and Lisa got married, Sal was Lisa's maid of honor, wearing a yellow dress because that was Lisa's favorite color.

Ash and Maple curled his hair and put it up in a pretty bun.

Larry gave Lisa away, there wasn't a dry eye in the courthouse.

Sal is really sassy. He's got a little bit of little man's syndrome and he's from Jersey too.

By the time Sal was 21, he was 5'6", not having his final growth spurt until he was 25.

Sal was always a late bloomer.

Has a deep voice caused from damage to his neck from his accident. His accent is 100% Frank Iero, but his voice is closer to Corey Taylor from Slipknot.

Sal can get loud, especially if he's not got his prosthetic on.

The fiberglass it's made of is really thick, so it won't break easily, and there's just a slit for the mouth.

So he had to learn to project early on.

Larry started teaching Sal bass in 93, introducing him to metal like Sanity's Fall, Korn, Metallica, Black Sabbath, and Slipknot.

Sal found other bands like Green Day, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Rage Against the Machine, Nirvana, Meat Puppets, and Soundgarden on his own.

The Grace of Sal's dimension met Sal at Nockfell Community College in autumn of 99 in Psych 101.

They got paired up for a project and it was kismet from then on.

That's what Sally calls it, kismet

There was instant attraction on both parts, Grace not just accepting but loving Sally and all of his scars

Their personalities just meshed and hangouts culminated into dates and dates into Sal showing Grace his face and then asking her to wear his necklace, a silver chain with a bass pick on it. I have it now.

Sal says that there is no difference between me and that Grace, except for some time differences due to dimensional stuff, but we'll get to that, and that I never ended up in Nockfell.

Sal and Grace were talking about her moving in when the Addison killings happened.

Part of Sal's cult research and ghost hunting, Grace immediately believed Sal's story and advocated for his release.

She tried to get someone, anyone, to look at the temple under the apartments, but no one seemed too keen on believing the girlfriend of a mass murderer.

Sal hit his final growth spurt, finally standing at 5'8"

He also bulked up. Death row inmates normally are kept in solitary confinement. It was either work out, or go crazy

Grace and Ash tried everything, but the odds were heavily stacked against Sal

They eventually tried Ash's idea, which was too little, too late.

Sal was put in the electric chair at 6:33 pm, and subjected to three rounds of electricity at the age of 28 in August of 2004.

Grace, unable to face life knowing her Sally was dead, fatally overdosed on sleeping pills minutes later.

Never knowing that

Sal survived

He was absolutely heartbroken when Ash broke the news at the hospital, where they were keeping Sal for observation, as well as treating injuries from the force of the chair: a broken right forearm, a broken left femur, a broken right hand, and so many severely strained muscles that they kept him for a month.

Other than the injuries, Sal was healthy

Sal accidentally shifted dimensions one night a couple of weeks later. He saw a rubberhose Sal and Grace

When Sal came back, he decided he'd learn to go to as many dimensions as he could, and find one with a Grace who didn't have a Sal

It took him two years, but Sal found me when he was 30. This me, in this dimension. In this dimension, it was in December of 2019.

This is where it gets complicated, but apparently, our dimension takes place thirteen years ahead of Sal's

Another difference is that in his dimension, Ireland is part of the UK

So you can imagine my surprise when this guy comes up to me in the park. He's not dressed for the season, just in a black hoodie and black jeans. But he seems vaguely familiar in that deja vu kinda way.

He wore a white and pink mask and obviously had a glass eye but who am I to judge

His eyes were bright sapphire blue in the hazy gray December light.

And he just... Struck up a conversation like he'd known me forever, introducing himself as Sally. Sally Fisher.

I gave him my number, and he pulled out this ancient flip phone.

I was kinda horrified and insisted on at least him getting a burner phone. I took him a few blocks over to the Dollar Store and picked a Galaxy from a few seasons ago, and Sally paid for it in cash, old bills.

Then we went to a nearby diner and I ended up having to teach him how to use it.

It struck me as odd to have to do that. I only ever have to teach my parents how to use new phones.

"What gives Sally? Who are you?"

"Do you believe in kismet?" and I nodded, remembering the term for fate/destiny from a movie.

Then he told me everything. His life story from facial injuries to the cult, his crimes, prison, the electric chair, Grace's death, and then his search through dimensions.

"You have to see that it's meant to be, you and me" he said "Every place I've been to has had a version of me. And those versions of me always had you. Always. There's always an Ash and Todd too, and I always die, so does Larry. Except in mine. And yours. Where's your Sal, true?"

Sally's eyes pleaded with me and I told him I'd think about it, making sure we had each others numbers. I had to leave for home soon after.

We kept talking through text, the cell reception in Sal's dimension just enough to get through to my number. He sent me pictures over the course of a couple weeks that left me with no other choice but to believe him

Pictures of low res MTV shows I remembered from 2006, newspaper headlines, etc.

I ran a search and found that this dimension's Sal Fisher of Hoboken, New Jersey by way of Nockfell, Pennsylvania died in a car crash the January before all of the other Sals and Graces met, when he was 21.

We started dating, Sal coming to stay with me for nights, and then weekends

When it got to the point that neither of us were happy about when time for him to leave came, I asked if he would stay.

Sally decided that, yes, he would stay, and went to his dimension one last time to explain and tell Ash and Todd goodbye.

They understood and wished us luck, and Ash wrote a note telling me that she trusted me to love Sal as much as the Grace from her dimension did.

TLDR: Sal came from a dimension 13 years behind us after surviving the electric chair. He picked this one because my Sal died when he was 21. He found me in 2019 and we've been happy ever since, bringing Toby and now Jeff into our poly family.

So let's talk about my Sal, our relationship, etc!

Kinda just... Took over the dead Sal's identity. Reported that there was a mistake, that he wasn't dead.

It was a process but we got it done.

Still a metalhead, he's delighted we share the same bands exactly in both dimensions

He also likes The Flaming Lips, Talking Heads, The Pixies, Dinosaur Jr, and Strfkr because of me

Also a HUGE fan of Gorillaz, Opeth, Frog Leap Studios, and MSI (though he's disgusted by the scandal with the front man)

Loves how advanced video games have gotten. We have both Xbox and Playstation consoles, only the newest, and a gaming computer and laptop to keep up with Sal's admitted gaming addiction.

He's a bottomless pit. He can eat so much, and has to actually put in effort to gain weight. He eats a lot and only does the barest daily workout.

Doesn't wear his prosthetic much around the house, preferring a backwards cap and his hair down.

I suspect it's because he's touch starved and naturally prefers real kisses to prosthetic ones any day.

One of my favorite ways to find Sal is sprawled across the couch, Smokey in his lap, cap on backwards to keep the hair from his eyes, biting his torn lower lip in concentration as he solves some puzzle or another in a game.

Is 5'8.6" tall and weighs 157 lbs

Has a little tummy pudge, like a dad bod lite™

We've noticed his hair is getting darker as he ages. It was bright cornflower blue when he got here, but over the past few years it's darkened a couple of shades. It's barely noticeable.

His eyes are like if sunlight were behind a sapphire, though the glass one is more dull.

Apparently, he needs to get to the oculist sooner than planned for his six month check up. He says his glass eye has been uncomfortable lately and it doesn't point straight as easily anymore.

So he's been going without it.

His eyelid says over the socket, but luckily, he's got a double row of dark blue eyelashes to distract from it.

He's restarted his collection of prosthetics, both facial and ocular.

Has to wear reading glasses to read and drive

Can drive, but doesn't like to

Paints his nails black every morning. He lets me pick a color to do an accent nail for each hand. Today is swampy green

His Metallica hat is sacred to him and very symbolic. The lettering on it is dark blue, for the Ride the Lightning single.

Sal jokes that "Ride the Lightning" is his song because he rode the lightning and lived.

One of those sappy boyfriends, he's got a plethora of names he calls me, his favorites in bold (we've been together for two years this December, it's quite a list): Gracie, Gracie face, baby, dream, precious, toots (pronounced tʰuts), peaches, phillie, honeybee, bb, bugaboo, beauty (calls himself beast), eyes, pockets, doll face, goddess, queenie, pinkie pie, Molly (every man has his Molly), sweet pickle, minx, vixen, genius, evil woman, itchy witch, hellcat, muffin, hotcakes, jellybean, sunny, and emerald.

Likes when I call him: dear, darling, babe, sweetheart, honey, love, teddy bear, Sally boy, and salamander

Finds it weird but cool that there's a game about his life basically. He thinks it's a cool coincidence.

Big fan of kisses, his entire day will be ruined if I forget to kiss him good morning and he has trouble sleeping without me

Found this dimensions Larry, he now lives in the apartment next door, in another brownstone loft.

Made sure I had only the cutest masks when we had to start wearing them. He's actually pretty partial to the medical mask design but some days his face just needs the support of his prosthetic.

Hates wearing his prosthetic in the summer. He stays so hot and will wear tank tops and gym shorts all summer, only breaking out hoodies for me, but not wearing them at all till mid October.

We work together at a smoke shop/dispensary. I work on the dispensary side, helping patients find the right strain for their condition, and Sal sells vape products, CBD products, and accessories for the medicinal side of clientele.

Can't stand cigarettes, but loves the concept of vaping. He keeps the most efficient mod and has a huge collection of flavors ranging from fruity to baked goods and desserts that can satisfy any craving you have.

Is a medical marijuana patient for his injuries, migraines, and PTSD.

We have a few cats, but only one stays inside, a Russian blue hair named Smokey.

We also have a blue tongued skink

We've been working on Sal's phobia of dogs, especially since he knows it was actually Kenneth Phelps who attacked him, not an actual dog

So we have two Mexican hairless dogs because they have less and more dull teeth than most dogs.

He's still nervous around Toby's dog, Seven, though, since he's bigger.

[vendetta06]

How did tfe meet?

I met alex and kate in art school. alex was wore all black but in a hipster way. I showed him mcr and he became emo FOR life. straight up the next day he started wearing eyeliner and studded belts. and he showed me a vampire rock opera called Suck and we were like WE NEED A HEARSE. but we need a band first. I met kate in the cafeteria. I saw her mcr tattoo plus she had frank iero's haircut at the time so I was super excited to meet someone who was obviously as emo as me. we met finn in a tragic 3d printing accident. you know when you make a clone and it comes out wrong? it was super fucked up. we actually don't talk about it. we auditioned josh in a really intense interviewing process. we asked how he felt about having a dildo strapped to his kick drum and he said he was fine with it. and then we asked "what do you think you're representing?" and he said "uhhhhh..... the torso?" and we knew he had to be the drummer.

[dangerdaysdiary]

From Cassie the Venomous... A Danger Days FAQ

You can find the original post on Cassie’s website here.

Frequently asked 'Danger Days...' Questions Answered!March 18, 2011Now that My Chemical Romance's Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys is out, I'm finding more and more questions about it leading people to this site. I figured it would be beneficial to address some of the ones that are asked most frequently in one place for the benefit of all! I hope this helps! ORIGINAL POST:  November 24, 2010 @ 11:57 P.M. UPDATED: March 18, 2011 @ 9:47 P.M. ____ The Killjoys Fun Ghoul -Corresponding MCR member: Guitarist, Frank Iero -Raygun: Green with horror-style stickers attached to it -Symbol: A smiling face with one eye crossed out and a jagged mouth -Physical Description: Wears a yellow shirt with black-striped accents over which he wears a military vest. In the video for "SING," Fun Ghoul bears a scar on the right side of his face at his mouth. -Mask: Purple and green Frankenstein mask -Additional Information: ... Jet Star -Corresponding MCR member: Guitarist, Ray Toro -Raygun: Blue with red and white details and the text "BECAUSE I SAID SO" -Symbol: Star with a face and a lightening bolt rising from its left side -Physical Description: Wears an eyepatch on his right side. His jacket displays an American flag on its back. -Mask: Black astronaut-style helmet -Additional Information: The original name for Jet Star was "Raygun Jones." Kobra Kid -Corresponding MCR member: Bassist, Mikey Way -Raygun: Red with white details and a decal that says "deluxe" (his raygun was originally named "Demon-shark Deluxe"). -Symbol: the face of a hissing cobra -Physical Description: Wears a red jacket over a yellow-and-black zebra-print shirt -Mask: Yellow helmet with blue and red eye-like details that displays the message “GOOD LUCK” on its visor -Additional Information: In addition to his raygun, Kobra Kid can also be seen using a power glove in the video for “Na Na Na…." Mikey describes Kobra Kid as a "misunderstood" character with a "short temper" who "knows Kung-Fu." Party Poison -Corresponding MCR member: Vocalist, Gerard Way -Raygun: yellow with pink details and "Give Me Money" written in Japanese on its side. -Symbol: pill with an "X" beneath it -Physical Description: Wears a blue jacket with red details, a "dead pegasus" logo on the front and his Killjoy symbol on the back -Mask: yellow domino mask with blue circular details and clown-style eyes or a decorated "mousekat" helmet. -Additional Information: Party Poison was among the Danger Days... characters active on Twitter preceding the album's release. The Killjoys' names, which Mikey Way told NME are "themed after designer drugs," started as the names of their rayguns, but later turned into character names. The band has said that their Killjoy personas are not characters they are playing, but how they picture themselves in the future. Are the Killjoys Dead? Currently, as a result of the “SING” video, the Killjoys are presumed dead. However, a picture from Gerard Way of “Party Poison” in what appears to be an unzipped body bag (left) captioned “Killjoys never die” has many fans questioning how dead they truly are. UPDATE: April 10, 2011 Dr. Death Defying tweeted: that "there are four acceptable levels of dead after posting an ode to Party Poison, whom he called "dearly departed." More information will follow if the four levels of dead are explained further. Dr. Death Defying Played by Steve Righ? of Mindless Self Indulgence, Dr. Death Defying is the smooth-talking narrator who filters in-and-out of Danger Days…. He is a D.J. for 109 F.M., WKIL, a pirate radio station that operates in the Zones. He is recognized by his “Slaughtermatic Sounds” jacket, which also says “Jackals” and “Philly,” his aviator sunglasses and the bandanna he wears tied around his head. Dr. Death Defying uses an electric wheelchair because of an apparent injury to his left leg, to which an electric brace is strapped. In an hour-long video “listening party” hosted by the D.J., the character implied that he is a veteran, possibly of the Helium Wars, which have been alluded to vaguely. Show Pony and the Girl Show Pony, the character who can be recognized by his "NOISE" half-shirt, blue-and-white polka-dot tights & helmet and rollerskates is the companion of Dr. Death Defying, the narrator of Danger Days... (played by Steve from Mindless Self Indulgence). Show Pony is played by performer Ricky "Rebel" (Twitter | Reverbnation). Rebel opened for My Chemical Romance as Show Pony at the band's Hollywood album release show. The actress who plays the Killjoy girl in the videos, whose character name has thus far only been "the Girl," goes by Grace Jeanette. She, too, is an actress and a musical performer. The Girl's role in the Danger Days world appears to be a significant one; as, she was kidnapped by Better Living Industries for a stull-unknown reason. The Zones and Battery City

The Killjoys world centers around Battery City and its surrounding concentric Zones. The map to the left shows how the Zones are laid out in relation to the city. Utopian Battery City is central, corporate, clean and the center of manufacturing. It is where Battery Towers is located. Battery City, California is the setting for My Chemical Romance's "SING" video, to give you a better perception of what it looks like. The setting for the "Na Na Na..." video is in the Zones, which are a more lawless, desert terrain in which the Killjoys live, run and fully embrace their freedom. The Zones are dirty, wild and dangerous-- the opposite of Battery City. Geographic landmarks include: Route Guano, which is the road on which Gerard has said, "the shit happens." It is where Jet Star and Kobra Kid are "ghosted" by an exterminator in the Danger Days... track "Jet-Star and The Kobra Kid/Traffic Report." "The Getaway Mile," which may be a specific location, is mentioned in the song "Bulletproof Heart." There is also a place which Dr. Death Defying on Twitter called "Wolfblood Beach." Better Living Industries Better Living Industries (Also known as BLI, BL/ind, or BL industries) is the corporation that controls Battery City. The corporation strives to bring about structure in a post-apocalyptic world. It is known for producing emotion-eliminating medications as well as every other manufactured product one can acquire in 2019. BLI crosses over from the Killjoys world and into real life. The made-up corporation has its own  web site with products that you can actually purchase, a mission statement and a "Zone Report" in both Japanese and English.  Also, MCR takes it a step further by having changed the name under which their music is published to "Better Living Industries Music," which you can see in the liner notes of Danger Days.... BLI also overtakes the edited version of Danger Days..., whiting out the internal album art, taking away the lyrics and putting its smiling face logo (above right) all over it. The Danger Days: California 2019 Edition box set is packaged in a BLI box and the 3-song The Mad Gear & Missile Kid E.P. that comes with it is printed on a disc made to look like a BLI brand CD-R. Check out some BL/ind commercials and "Fact News" reports. Dead Pegasus Dead Pegasus is a 2019 oil company. Korse, Draculoids and S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W

Korse is an exterminator for BL/ind's SCARECROW Unit. In the videos, he is played by comic writer Grant Morrison. The "SING" video has raised speculation among fans that Korse could possibly a robot of some sort; as, he is seemingly "activated" in his chamber by the push of a button. Some also speculate, based on Gerard Way's character sketches and his indicating that Korse suffers from "Zone sickness," that he may stay in the  chamber shown in the "SING" video for medical reasons. Grant Morrison revealed to MTV that Korse is "intimately connected with the Killjoys and their secret history," which has yet to be revealed. The SCARECROW Unit of BL/ind is a sort of police force. Korse leads it, and The Draculoids are the other exterminators that appear to be of lower ranking than Korse. They're a "clean-up crew" for the Zones, getting rid of the things and people who do not comply with the monochromatic standards of Better Living Industries. The Mad Gear And Missile Kid

The Mad Gear and Missile Kid is My Chemical Romance's alter-ego band for Danger Days... Mad Gear is what MCR imagined the Killjoys would listen to in 2019. Fans who ordered the California 2019 Box Set received a bonus E.P. of the three tracks MCR recorded as The Mad Gear And Missile Kid: 1. F.T.W.W.W. (acronym for "fuck this whole wide world") 2. "Mastas Of Ravenkroft" 3. "Black Dragon Fighting Society" The genesis of TMG&MK came with the writing of "Black Dragon Fighting Society," which was originally recorded for the pre-Danger Days album the band "scrapped." "F.T.W.W.W." and "Mastas of Ravenkroft" followed as songs created specifically for TMG&MK. Gerard Way told Alternative Press that the MCR is interested in creating a full album as The Mad Gear and Missile Kid and that they would like to play shows as the alter-ego band on off-days of tours in the future. EVENTS in the Zones 2012: The Great Fires 2017: The Pig Bomb ?: Helium Wars

-- If there's something about which you are confused that you would like added to this post, let me know! Consider this a perpetual draft that will update as often as you, Reader, need it to. Also, please don't hesitate to submit corrections! I have compiled the information in this post using knowledge I've gained from interviews of the band by several sources. Suggested Reading to Expand your Killjoys Knowledge: The Twitter development of the Zones presented in a linear fashion. A full interview transcript series posted by Coup De Main Magazine. XoXo c.

[suh-eng]

Chapter 1. His name is Pierrot

“You never think about us! Sometimes I just don’t know why I married you, Iero!”

“God damn it, I’m working like a dog every day to earn us a living, and I only get rebukes in return!”

“Exactly! You think about your work more than you think about us!”

“Don’t you start on that!”

“Don’t you shut me out! When was the last time you talked to your son? Do you even know what’s going on in his life? What if he started smoking because of lack of his father’s attention?”

“I already have started,” Frank nearly blurted out, taking a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket when the door slammed behind his back, but he stopped himself. He loved his parents. Man, he really did, but these everyday scenes became unbearable. The morning used to start with them venting everything that they accumulated overnight on each other, and in the evening they were coming clean with everything they haven’t said in the morning. And it always was coming down to one thing: around 11 PM mom was shutting herself down in the bedroom on the second floor and crying her eyes out, and dad was lying on the small sofa in the living room with and sighing, and they both were thinking over the things that they’re going to tell each other the next day. And when there was nothing left to say, they were sniping at Frank. He loved them. Man, he really loved them, but he was looking forward to their divorce.

Frank took a first drag and looked around. He has been living in this city for two weeks now and he hasn’t seen anything further the street his house was on yet, but he already totally hated it. Because he never wanted to leave his homeland, his beloved and dearest New Jersey, where he was familiar with every alley and every trash can. Because he couldn’t give a toss about this damn Atlanta with its noise, sour looks of the passers-by and the new school. Because his parents were too selfish and they ruined his life, they took him away from the land he loved just because some kind of a family therapist claimed that the change of the scenery can help to establish happy domesticity. But nothing was established. Loud scenes, broken dishes, eyes red from crying, a miserable son.

Frank threw the cigarette butt away, got on the board and headed towards the Westlake High School, which should have become his second home for a whole year.

For the first time he found himself further than thirty feet away from the house. Passing down the streets of the new city, he couldn’t help but compare it to his home and curse the state of Georgia for the umpteenth time. He already didn’t like it there. The streets were too clean, people too dull, and the building of the school, at where he had arrived in ten minutes, too different from the one he’s used to.

Westlake High School was one of the best schools in Atlanta, that’s why they sent Frank here. But looking at all those boys in the snapback caps, girls in miniskirts and the boom box right in the middle of the schoolyard that was ready explode from the powerful hip-hop, it wasn’t easy to believe that all of Atlanta’s prodigies study here. Nervously pulling up the strap of his bag, Frank pressed his skateboard to his hip and headed to the entrance under the curious stares. He had to show up at the principal’s office before classes start.

The second he walked through the door of the new school, he heard the loud pop, shrieking girls and hollow noise of laughter and whistling from the outside. He then looked behind and saw two swearing high-school girls, from head to toe covered in something yellow and sticky, fly into the school at a crazy speed. Making the same loud and indecent noise, they hid behind the door of the ladies’ room, slamming it very hard, and people from the outside were still laughing. “They’re all psychos here,” thought Frank, and nervously looking around, he went right down the hall in search of the principal’s office.

Apparently, the school of psychos was run by the short man, not young, but not old yet, wearing terracotta suit. He met Frank while sitting in his leather chair and looking through papers, with glasses on the bridge of his nose and black scruffy hair. When he saw someone came in, he politely put everything away and smiled graciously, suggesting him to take a sit with a gesture.

“So, Mr. Iero, you come from New Jersey, right?” he said quite friendly, opening Frank’s file.

“Yes, sir,” Frank answered with the same politeness.

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes, sir,” totally lied Frank.

“You have a really good school record. Simply excellent,” said the principal, smile growing wider.

“Yes. I want to apply to a medical college.”

“Great! We need students like you.”

With the same wide smile the principal reached into his bureau and drew a pile of papers and a lot of colorful files out of it. Frank swallowed and glanced at the principal’s table. The nameplate read that this weird funny man’s name was Mr. Goldman.

“Here! Found it!” cheerfully proclaimed Mr. Goldman, picking a sheet of paper from the pile. “Your schedule, Mr. Iero. Try not to get lost in the classrooms,” he giggled joyously.

“Yes, sir.”

“I hope, Mr. Iero, we are not going to have any problems,” the principal’s face instantly became serious, he propped his glasses on his nose with a finger, and now there wasn’t a trace of the funny man wearing a funny suit. “Our school has a Charter that should be upheld by every student. You are no exclusion. You seem to me a pleasant enough young man, please, don’t ruin this impression.”

Frank was getting a little anxious.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Mr. Goldman took on the guise of the funniest and merriest person Frank has ever seen back, and his glasses dropped on the bridge of his nose again. “I’m very glad we had an understanding. You can go, the classes are starting soon. Goodbye, Mr. Iero.”

“Yes, sir, thank you.”

Frank rose to his feet and walked out of the principal’s office. He liked this man. He was quite funny and kind, but strict and serious when it is required. It was three minutes before the bell.

However, Frank managed to find the classroom only four and a half minutes later, and that’s why when he shyly knocked in the door and walked in on stiff feet, thirty five pairs of eyes were staring at him. And the thirty sixth pair that belonged to the teacher who wasn’t very happy about him.

“Do you really think that getting late for the very first lesson here is the best way to establish yourself, Mr. EE-ero?” her voice was gritty, with an unpleasant tone of disgust.

“Actually, it’s EYE-ero,” Frank corrected her timidly, but the teacher ruthlessly cut him off, while he was mid-sentence.

“And anyway, Mr. EE-ero, why are you late?”

God alone knows how much effort Frank put to fight the temptation to take his board from the bag and punch that arrogant hag.

“It took me some time to find the classroom,” he hissed between gritted teeth and squeezing fists in the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

Everyone chuckled.

“Well, then I will give you a map. Sit down.”

“Thank you very much!” almost said Frank, but he held back.

In the class, there were a lot of empty seats, but the looks of other students were making it very clear that Frank wasn’t very welcome. That’s why he had to sit on the single lonely chair in the back of the class right next to the wall. “Fucking jerks,” Frank thought, when he looked at satisfied faces of his new classmates, and the memories of his old friends, so kind and funny, that have been left in New Jersey slipped into his head, making his heart squeeze from the unbearable sadness. He shouldn’t have sat there on this chair, alone, at the back of the class! He should have been taking notes after Dr. Byde, sitting behind his old painted desk, and then, after the lessons, he should’ve been riding to the skateboard park racing the dearest people he had. But all nostalgic thoughts had to be interrupted because the teacher began explaining the topic, and Frank diligently began writing down every word because he needed the highest scores in order to go to the university.

That’s how two first lessons went by. Frank scribbled, memorized, and tried his best ignoring the fact that his classmates were constantly staring at him. He was very angry and he wanted to run back to his dusty New Jersey so bad, that honestly, he couldn’t help but begin thinking everyone here in Westlake High was completely insane, and when a bright-orange ball flew in through the window and shattered the glass, he became convinced they all were psychos here.

Four lessons later, Frank felt his stomach has stuck to his back, and although he was still disoriented in that huge school, he went looking for the cafeteria. It was quite crowded here, that is why after standing a few long minutes in the line he finally bought a tiny sandwich and a juice pack and headed towards the little empty table near the window. And the second he landed his butt on the chair, a piece of oatmeal goop flew just above him, a couple inches away from his head. A piece of cereal. Like, the flying cereal, you know. Someone shouted behind him, and an impressive piece of the cereal smashed into the wall with a loud squish and then slowly dripped into an ugly puddle.  “Psychos, fucking psychos!” thought Frank, grabbing his lunch and running away from the cafeteria with, you know, the flying oatmeal!

Barely sitting through the last two lessons, which he wanted to escape so much, Frank was so happy going outside and taking a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket. He really wanted to go home.

Once the tip of his cigarette was lit, he heard a bit gruff voice of a girl from behind.

“You got a light?”

Frank turned around and saw his new classmate standing in front of him. She was a diminutive brunette with her hair dyed black, and she wore a really short skirt.

“Yeah, here,” he handed her a lighter and took a first drag.

“Thanks, Frank,” she said, returning a lighter and sweetly taking a puff too.

Frank looked at her again. Alexa, Frank thought that’s her name was, was quite a nice girl, as nice as a girl in big heavy military boots with a cigarette in her hand can be.

“You are Alexa, right?” asked Frank to break the silence.

“Yeah,” the girl shook her head. “What you think? Do you like it here?”

“No,” Frank said honestly. “You all are psychos here. I want to go home.”

Alexa shook the ashes off to the ground.

“And where are you from?”

“I’m from New Jersey.”

“And why psychos?” she laughed meekly, making a sly face.

Suddenly, Iero became overwhelmed by a wave of confused resentment.

“Because this morning I saw two yellow sticky girls running into the restroom, because a big orange ball broke a window in the hall, because I was nearly killed by an oatmeal missile, that’s why!” he told off, throwing a cigarette into the puddle and putting his hands in his pockets.

This time, Alexa glinted excitedly with a loud laughter, clutching her stomach and leaving Frank confused, well, because the flying oatmeal is so fucking hilarious!

“That’s just a normal reaction for all newcomers,” she said, wiping the tears of laughter. “This is terribly funny,” she laughed again.

“Really? And how often do you throw oatmeal at each other?”

A gaggle of boys passed by, and Frank felt a weight of the hostile gazes and grins with his whole body.

“No, not really,” said Alexa. “And it’s not us. It’s Pierrot.”

“Pierrot?”  Frank repeated, baffled.

“Yes, Pierrot,” the girl said softly. “Wacky Pierrot.”

“Who in the hell’s that?”

Alexa smiled again, a hint of hostility showed on her young face.

“Well, he’s the real freak. That was his job with the broken window, and a bomb with the yellow paint too, and that’s him who is throwing the oatmeal. He’s crazy. And we call him Pierrot because he reminds of a wacky pale-faced doll. I’m sure you’ll meet him. He’s in our year.”

“Now we’re going to meet some weird Pantaloon’s puppet,” Frank said, looking tired, than he turned around and headed home, where another load of scenes and homework have been waiting for him.

-------- link to the picture

link to another picture

link to artist’s insta

[starfast]

Joey’s Adventure

Author’s note: I don’t usually put these at the beginning, but feel like it’s important for people to know going into this that this is the result of a “pass the story” game. I also wrote it for school in 2012 and had to read it in front of my class. It’s not exactly great, mindblowing literature, but it gave me and my classmates, and my teacher a good laugh, so I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. 

Joey was an average thirteen year old boy. He did well in school, and had many friends who he liked to hang out with all the time. One beautiful sunny day, Joey and his friends decided to play in a forest. They walked down a street made of yellow bricks, clambered over a broken fence and began walking through a muddy path that led into the forest. They walked through the forest for quite some time, when suddenly they saw the most terrifying gangster they had ever seen in their short little lives.     “Gimme all yo money!” Said the gangster. Joey and his friends screamed. They turned around to run back home, but they were surrounded by other gangsters who were equally terrifying. Joey was terrified. The gangsters began to close in on Joey and his friends. None of them had been so scared in their lives. Joey was so scared, that as the gangsters continued to close in on them, he passed out.

   When Joey finally regained consciousness, he had no idea where he was. He was lying down in a strange room. He decided to get up to look around the area, but when he tried to sit up, he realized that he was strapped down to a steel bed. There was no escape.    Joey looked around the room, studying his surroundings. Suddenly, a door opened and a stream of light shot through the dark room. A tall, menacing figure entered. The man was very tall, and intimidating, and he acted like he had some kind of authority over the strange place.     “Hello, Joey,” The person said in  a very menacing tone.     “Who are you?” Joey asked nervously.    “My name is Kanye West,” The man said, “And Imma let you finish, but Mr. Prescott’s writing 12 block B is the best writing class of all time!” Joey heard a crowd cheering (As well as some booing from the other writing classes). A curtain rose and Joey saw that he was on a stage in a theater. But that wasn’t a big deal until Joey realized that he was at the Grammys    “Do you want to be a part of my new album ‘My Beautiful, Dark, Twisted Fantasy?” Kanye asked Joey. The crowd started cheering, and Kanye’s voice was so demanding, that there was only one option.    “Yes,” Joey replied feebly.    “Good!” Kanye exclaimed, “Now, let the show commence!”    Lights began to dim, except for one spotlight that focussed on Joey, shining right into his eyes. Then once the crowd was quiet, some flashing, colourful lights danced all around the theater.    “Ready?” Kanye asked excitedly. The crowd began to cheer, but Joey couldn’t answer because Kanye’s assistants; a bunch of girls wearing polkadot bikinis came over and began to tape Joey’s mouth shut. With the flashing lights blinding him, Joey only had his ears to rely on. From behind him, he heard the rattling of a chainsaw. It took three tries for the chainsaw to start.    Once it was started, the crowd screamed “3….2…1!”    Joey saw Kanye walk up to him with the chainsaw and began to panic. He was about to be hacked to pieces by Kanye and there was nothing he could do. Out of the many people in the huge theatre, none of them were willing to help. So Joey had no choice, but to lie back and accept his fate.    The blade of the chainsaw was inches away from Joey’s neck when suddenly, it was pushed away.     “Not so fast Kanye!” Said a voice. Joey looked and instantly recognized his savior. It was Gerard Way, the lead singer of My Chemical Romance!    “Yo Gerard,” Kanye said, “Imma let you finish, but–”
    “I don’t care!” Gerard said. With one powerful movement, he pushed Kanye off the stage and everyone cheered. They cheered even harder when the rest of My Chemical Romance walked onto the stage. As they did, Gerard freed Joey from the steel bed.    “Thank’s Gerard!” Joey said, “You’re my hero! But I need to get home now.”    “Without a performance from us?” Gerard said, “I don’t think so! Hit it guys!”    The spotlights focussed on the band as they started playing Joey’s favourite song, ‘This is How I Disappear.’ Joey watched in awe as Gerard sang his heart out, and as Frank Iero and Ray Toro the two guitarists showed off their legendary skills. Joey looked over at Mikey Way, the bassist, who was jamming out and having the time of his life.  As the last note of the song died out, the crowd began to cheer so loudly that Joey thought he would go deaf.     They were about to leave when Mikey picked up Kanye’s chainsaw. “Hey,” He said, “What’s this?”    “I’ll take that,” Gerard said. He got it started, then threw it off the stage at Kanye, who then got cut to pieces. Once Kanye was dead, Gerard took the microphone and said, “Well, there’s nothing to see here any more. You guys can go home now.” So everyone left. Including Joey.    The End

[frnkiebby]

such a pretty profile~🎃

[callmeblake]

From twitter on August 3rd, 2023: 4 years ago today i lived my dream and photographed (at)FrankIero and the future violents - fun fact it was also the first time my mom told me she was proud of my photography (she even posted on facebook about it)

to celebrate, these are my fave photos of frank from the dallas show

[coffeesforfuckers]

Cuffed In Handcuffs To My Biggest Secrets // Frerard

Pairing: Frerard Summary: Gerard hates Frank and Frank hates Gerard. They swear at each other, kick, hit, spit at each other, anything that could possibly kill the other while screaming insults at one another. Everybody else is sick of their shit and decide that handcuffs are the only way to solve the problem. Word Count: 3,892

“I hate you so much, Frank Iero. Why the fuck do you even try?” I snap at him without even turning to face him, walking to the changing rooms after a show, “You can’t sing, you can barely play your fucking guitar and on top of that, you’re a reckless moron.” I list off and I can just tell he’s nagging me behind my back.

“You just say this shit because you know you suck and this band will never take off. I don’t even know why I stay at this point, I could do so much better without your dumb ass.” He mutters from behind.

“Yeah right, Frank. How about you go try that out and tell me how it goes?” I sass and he kicks me in the shin. I spin around to face him and he spits up into my eye.

“Maybe I will, dickhead! You’ll fall apart without me here.” His voice is sharp as I wipe his saliva off of my face and quickly grab him by the collar of his shirt.

“Listen you little goblin, I will fucking destroy you.” I hold him up, too close to my face.

“Like you could fight me, I’ll kick your ass, I’m from New Jersey!” He says as if it’s intimidating.

“Like that would ever be-” He spits directly into my mouth. I drop him and spit into the floor in disgust.

“You little shit! What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” I yell angrily, “Are you fucking challenged?!”

“I’m defending myself you cunt!” He yells back and I swing at him, nailing him in the jaw. He swipes his hand over my face and claws me over the cheek and eye.

I go to grab him again, “Hey! Hey! What are you fucking doing!?” Mikey and Ray rush towards us as Mikey shouts at us.

I catch Frank’s collar and slam him against the wall. Mikey pulls his arms around me and Ray gets Frank, prying us apart as we both desperately attempt to injure each other. I fight against Mikey but he holds me firmly as Frank kicks around in Ray’s arms, looking like the little gremlin he was.

Frank spits at me again and it hits Mikey’s arm, “ Hey !” He practically screams, “ Enough !”

“He started it!” Frank growls.

“No, he fucking spit at me!” I defend.

“Why the fuck are you trying to kill each other anyway?! Jesus christ! Can’t we have one day where you two don’t fucking maul one another!?” Ray snaps.

“Frank’s a fucking idiot! That’s why!” I attempt to break free of Mikey’s restraint again to no avail.

“I didn’t fucking do anything! He just started insulting me for no reason!” Frank struggles, kicking his feet as they couldn’t reach the ground from the way Ray was holding him.

“Can you two please just go get changed so we can go back to the hotel?” Mikey sighs exhaustively. We were constantly at each other's throats and I could tell they were sick of having to pull us apart. I think they should just let us kill one another in all honestly.

“If you let me take one more swing at the gremlin.” I hiss.

“Gerard. Fucking go change. Now .” Mikey demands and starts pulling me to my dressing room, “Ray, take Frank to his dressing room please.” He sighs.

I can hear Frank shouting to be put down and that he could ‘ walk himself’ as Ray carried his tiny ass to his changing area.

|||

“Just let us fight each other. Whoever wins gets to live and stay in the band.” I say as I pull my shirt over my head.

“Gerard, you are not fighting Frank.” Mikey rolls his eyes, “Why do you two hate one another so much anyway?” The question causes me to freeze.

Only Frank and I knew the reasons but even then, there barely was one. We just hated each other really. It was that simple. Him and I were complete opposites, they don’t attract, they repel in our case.

“We just do, Mikey. Opposites don’t always attract.” I grumble, sliding out of my skinny jeans.

He sighs at my immaturity, “Have you ever tried to get along?”

“Once. We’re better as enemies.” I speak and tug on a pair of baggy sweatpants, “Never will I ever be friends with Frank Iero.” I say and lightly kick Mikey’s knee as he was sat on the floor, blocking the exit so I wouldn’t run off and murder Frank.

Smart move.

I let out a huff as he stands up and grasps my arm. Mikey leads me out to the cab that’s waiting for us. Frank’s on the far end and Ray’s in the middle, Mikey hops in and then me. They put a barrier between Frank and I to keep us from ending the lives of one another.

I stare out the window and so does he, completely ignoring me. It’s almost surprising that we haven’t started a screaming match yet. Well, we mostly only did that when Ray and Mikey weren’t around to stop us.

I did feel bad that they always had to stop us from being sent to prison for murder. But I could care less when I was in the middle of one of our infamous arguments.

My eye hurt.

“Mikey, could you get me ice when we get to the hotel, I’m gonna go look at my eye to make sure that I won’t go blind from his attack.” I glare over at Frank who’s already shooting daggers at me.

“Okay, I’ll grab you some ice too, Frank.” He smiles between us as we have a stare down.

“Fine, betray me why don’t you?” I huff and Mikey rolls his eyes at me and my pathetic childishness.

“Gerard, knock it off and you too, Frank.” He mutters to us both and we go back to watching out the windows.

|||

I’m barely awake when we finally get to the hotel. I drag myself up to my room that I’m sharing with everybody. Everybody gets up there quickly, except Mikey of course, who’s finding me ice.

I step into the bathroom to check my wound and it looks awful; my eye is almost swollen shut. I let out a sigh and wash my face with water and then sit down on the floor, leaned against the wall with the hot water running.

I did this a lot. It helps my voice a lot from how much I’ve been straining myself to sing and occasionally get sick from nerves. I was always a very awkward and nervous kid and I get extremely anxious before shows, especially big ones and sometimes end up vomiting from the anxiety.

There's a banging on the door that causes me to jump, “Yo! Hurry the fuck up!” Frank shouts from the other side.

I huff and turn off the water, tossing the door open. I shove him back and he stumbles as I move past him, “Dickhead. I will end you.” Frank grumbles as he slams the bathroom door.

I just end up going to bed.

|||

I sigh as I wobble on my feet, unsure of if I were still going to throw-up again or not. Frank keeps banging on the bathroom door and I’m ready to kill him.

“Can you hurry the fuck up!? Other people have to use that too you know!” He yells, slamming on the door. I’m so fed up with his yelling that I just rinse my mouth and step out, punching him in the chest to move him out of my way.

“Go fuck yourself, Frank.” I snap as I stomp off.

The set goes by so fast, I almost kill Frank probably around three times and he almost cracks my head open with his guitar. Everybody thinks it’s all for the show somehow. Probably because we’re not screaming profanities at each other and actually trying to piss the other off to the point of murder.

As soon as it’s over Frank and I are beating each other as soon as we step off of the stage. Mikey catches me just before I grab Frank by the neck and Ray grabs him.

“You dirty little troll! I’ll fucking slaughter you! I’ll fucking kill your ass!” I shout, fighting as hard as I can against Mikey.

“Try me, Cunt! I dare you to fucking try and fight me you cock sucking whore!” Frank does the same as I.

“Okay! Knock it off!” Mikey shouts over us and we fall silent as always, “Ray, it’s time,” he huffs.

“Brian!” Ray calls our tour manager over.

“Are they at it again.” He groans seeing the scene.

“Grab the things out of my back pocket. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Mikey speaks sternly.

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll actually kill each other?” Ray raises a concerned voice.

“It’s time for them to settle their differences themselves, Ray.” Mikey shakes his head as Brian grabs my arm and Franks. Suddenly cold metal is strapped around mine and Frank’s arms.

“Handcuffs!?” Both Frank and I yell in unison.

“Good luck, dipfucks. If one of you dies the other has to drag around the other’s body forever.” Brian nods at us as he leaves.

“No! No!” I shout, “Get him off of me!” I yell at Mikey.

“Learn not to kill each other and we’ll let you go.” Ray chimes in.

“We can’t play like this!” Frank snaps.

“Your problem, not ours.” shrugs Ray, and I glare at him.

I am not okay with this.

|||

“I need to shower.” I say, it's only Frank and I in this hotel room.

“Too fucking bad.” He says and I hold back everything in me that's screaming to deck him.

“Can you stop being a cunt. Just stand outside the-”

“No.” He interrupts angrily, “Sponge bath or no bath.” He snaps at me.

“Why the fuck do you hate me so much?” I demand and he just ignores me, typing on his phone. I pull my hand back and it causes him to drop his phone.

“Cunt!” He shouts.

“Go fuck yourself.” I shake my head, “I'm going to bed.”

Frank mutters angrily as we lay uncomfortably close and awkwardly in bed.

I hated my friends so much right now.

|||

Breakfast is the biggest pain in the ass. We're attached with both our dominant hands and let me just say, it's impossible.

Our elbows smack together, our wrists are red, our hands hurt. It's awful. I can't take it.

Sadly, lunch is even worse, having to eat with our heads actually pressed together. We're both absolutely miserable.

By the time we get to the venue we are so ready to murder each other or kill ourselves, we can't tell which would be worse. The place is so big and I'm so anxious. I'm shaking violently and I can tell Frank is getting annoyed by it.

I was also panicked over him finding out about my nervous issue of vomiting before shows. Not even Mikey knew about that somehow. Nobody ever found out.

I bounce my leg and shift around more than normal in my seat. Frank is grinding his teeth with anger at this point.

“Do you have to piss or something?” He snaps and I shake my head, “Then stop bouncing around like an idiot.”

I can't, I want to, but I can't.

“I… Frank I really need to get these cuffs off, like now, please.” I beg.

“You act like I want to deal with this.” He growls at me, he's pissed.

“Frank, you don't understand.” I persist.

He stands and pulls me up, “I knew you needed to piss.” He grumbles and drags me along.

“Not piss.” I say.

“Gerard no.” He glares at me.

“Not that either.” I mumble, now I’m pulling him along, knowing I’m going to vomit. I end up pulling him into the bathroom with me and he seems confused for a second until I drop to the floor.

“Whoa! What do you think you’re doing!?” He shouts and I kick him in the shin.

“Shut up, don’t draw attention.” I mutter angrily.

“Dude, what the fuck? Are you-... Gerard, do you purge?” He whispers, kneeling next to me and holding my hair. It feels so fucked up to have Frank of all people in here with me while I spill the contents of my stomach into an old, pretty gross toilet.

“No.” I cough, “I get sick when I’m too anxious… Which happens almost every show.” I give a weak smile.

“Does anybody know?” He rubs my back after tying my hair up.

“No, I’d rather not worry anybody…” I vomit promptly after I finish speaking and Frank flinches, surprised almost.

“Well, I hate you and even I’m fucking shaking with worry so yeah I can get that.” Frank says and shakes his head.

“Thanks but I’m fine. I just need to stop eating right before shows.” I sigh and sit back, tugging the band out of my hair. My hair flops down around my face and I stand, flushing the toilet with my foot. I wasn’t a fan of public bathrooms. I rinse my mouth out in the sink and Frank doesn’t bother me for once.

It was actually kind of nice not fighting him constantly.

It didn’t last long as his arm got caught in the door and we started yelling over it, threatening to kill each other. Of course, the one time we argue, Mikey shows up and shakes his head at us.

“Good luck playing like that.” He grins, finding our situation amusing.

“I fucking hate you, Mikey!” I shout as he walks off, laughing to himself, “Cunt!”

|||

The shows have been an absolute disaster. He had to play with me hooked to him, singing and moving around was a struggle. He kept fucking around with his guitar and went to toss it around himself and nailed me in the jaw and I bled so bad that they had to bandage it on stage because I refused to leave. That was only the first night. Try over a week of this. I was so banged up and I swear he's reopened that gash in my jaw with his guitar almost every night.

Being back in the hotel room was a blessing. Even though I had to have Frank practically wrapped around me, it was better than trying to beat the shit out of him while he was attached to me.

I somehow manage to get comfortable. Frank was already asleep somehow, my face hurt too bad for me to fall asleep yet. Frank mumbles incoherently in his sleep, it’s surprisingly the least annoying quality about him.

He begins to stir at probably four in the morning, his mumbles getting a bit louder.

“No…” He hums, “No! Go away!” He speaks loudly and he starts to toss and turn anxiously, practically shouting. He’s actually crying, bawling, years running down his face as they slip out of the corners of his firmly shut eyes.

“Frank.” I mumble.

“Stop! Don’t do that! No! I said no!” He starts to get a bit aggressive. I catch his free arm and start to shake him.

“Wake up! Frank, hey… Wake up.” I push him again and again but his yelling continues, “Frank! Wake up!” I shout, startling him awake. He sits upright, still in tears. I can see he’s trembling.

His hands shake as he rubs at his eyes, sniffles and hiccups shaking him. I  turn the lights on and sit up, going to place a hand on his back but I end up yanking at his arm. I frown and rest my hand on his leg.

“Are you okay?” I ask and Frank doesn't look at me, only shaking his head, “How can I help?” I want to make him feel better, I'm the only one who should cause him pain is what I think for my reasoning of feeling bad for him.

“Y-... You can't…” He stammers and I frown a bit more. I decide to pull him into me, which forces him into my lap, “What-... What are you doing!?” He struggles in my arms for a second and I hug my arm around him, resting my head on his chin. He stops moving and his cheeks heat up.

“I'm trying to be comforting. Mikey used to do this to me when I would get night terrors.” I hum and feel him squeeze an arm around me, gripping onto my hand.

“Why are you helping me?” He mumbles.

“You've been helping me and I'm just trying to help you in return.” I explain. He and I may beat the fuck out of each over all the time but I felt pretty bad and this feels pretty good.

“Oh… T-... Thanks…” He says into my chest.

He shakes for a while longer, sniffling and not so much crying as whimpering. I'm exhausted but I stay awake the whole time, singing to him. That's what always calmed me down when I'd be so upset.

“Do you think this would be enough of a reason to get the handcuffs off?” I joke and he starts to shake his head.

“I don't want them to know.” He winced against me.

“Okay. Your secrets safe with me, Frank.” I told him and he pressed himself more into my chest. He fell asleep and I laid down, holding him still.

My heart was beating so hard and I couldn't sleep until probably around six.

|||

I wake up with Frank wrapped tightly around me. I stir slightly and notice that Mikey is stood at the end of the bed, taking pictures.

“Hey!” I snap and startle Frank who jumps and sits up.

“You two friends now?” Giggles Mikey.

“No!” We both shout.

“Yeah, okay. ” Mikey chuckles, “Now get up, we're going out to eat.”

“I'm not hungry.” Frank instantly says, “I forced Gerard to get up with me and we ate last night.” He lies. I give him an odd look.

“You sure? It's like four, we have to go in a bit.” Mikey says and we both nod, “Okay, we’ll be back in a while.” Mikey says as he starts to leave, “Bye losers!”

I roll my eyes and the door closes, “Why’d you do that?” I turn to Frank.

“You won’t get sick before if you don’t eat until after, right?” He smiles at me with red cheeks.

“Yeah, you’re right… Thanks.” I mumble and toss my legs over the side of the bed. Frank crawls over and climbs off the bed.

“Let’s go get ready for the concert.”

|||

I walk ahead of Frank to the dressing room, we had been wearing the same shirts for the past, probably week now and had to keep dousing each other in cologne to help us not smell like complete shit. He starts to wash his face and hair in the sink while I standby, involentarily helping.

I’d caught myself staring at him a few times. It was hard not to when you were literally handcuffed to him, but I mean, excessive staring, “Your hair's so soft.” I say without thinking. It really was surprisingly soft.

“Thanks.” He chuckles bearing his bright white teeth up at me. My heart beats too fast as he squints up at me, water dripping down in his face.

“Uh, yeah, no problem.” I cough.

“Could you please get me a towel?” He laughs and I grab him one, patting the water off of his skin. He takes it from me after a moment of watching me with a dopey grin and starts to dry his hair, my hand banging against his head as he did so.

“Frank…?” I speak.

“Yes?” He coos with his schoolgirl giggle.

“Why do you hate me?” I ask and he’s taken aback by the seriousness of my sudden question.

“Uh…” He mumbles, getting flustered and red faced, shrugging.

“Tell me.” I insist.

“I don’t have a reason…” He says awkwardly. I stay silent for a minute or so, pondering whether or not to keep pushing it.

“Yes you do.” I shove him with my arm.

“No!” His cheeks glow.

“Come on, just tell me, I won’t get mad.” I say and he shakes his head, “Well, I honestly just hate you because you’re definitely better than me.” I admit, also because he’s hot and it’s not fair.

“It’s not that you’d get mad.” He sighs.

“Then what is it?”

He shrugs at me, sighing. He seems extremely upset, trying to avoid me which was almost impossible with the cuffs on our hands. I grab his hand and he almost jumps out of his skin.

“Don’t do that!” He smacks me.

“Just tell me what’s bothering you, Frank. We already know each other’s weirdest secrets.” All except that I’m gay as fuck.

“No we don’t.” He gives me a funny look.

“Close enough.” I bump against him with a smile.

“Uh…” He’s as red as a tomato.

“I told you why I hated you, you have to tell me, it’s a rule.” I speak, “You have to, Frank.” I press and Frank gives in with a sigh.

“I like you.” He says, looking at me.

“I asked why you hate me, Frank.” I look at him like he’s crazy.

“No, I-... I’m in-... I-...” He kisses me.

I’m not sure how to respond. I don’t kiss back out of pure shock, but my heart beats too fast and my face burns. I don’t hate it.

Frank pulls back quickly, “Oh, god… I am so sorry, I couldn’t uh… Think of any other way to convey my feelings, but that didn’t work either because it makes me look stupid and it makes my feelings for you like… Even more of them have flourished and your lips are like… Nice… And I’m just gonna stop talking now because I feel really dumb…” He is so red and flustered. Frank looks really cute when he’s blushing, I realize.

“No, I-... I didn’t hate it.” I say.

“You didn’t kiss back… If you didn’t hate it then you would just… Kiss me back…” He sighs, “Well, secrets out I guess…” He frowns, “Can we pretend this didn’t happen?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Gerard, can we please just forget about it?” He begs, not looking at me.

“No, we can’t.” I reply and he looks at me in frustration and anger.

“Gerard!” He shoves me, I stumble and fall, grabbing onto Frank as I collapse onto the couch, “Forget about it okay.” He persists.

“No, I can’t.” I reply as I place a hand behind his head, resting it on the back of his neck, I pull him closer to me, kissing him myself this time. It felt good, it felt like the thing I’d been missing forever.

The door opens and we try to jump apart only ending up with me writhing in pain from Frank pulling my arm and popping it from its socket.

“Looks like you two have solved your differences and congratulations, you are free to go!” Mikey laughs.

“Yeah… To the hospital.” I grunt and Frank chuckles at me.

Mikey takes the cuffs off but in reality we we’re around each other more without the cuffs than with once they came off.

[eddie-luvs-mcr]

[velvetdestroya]

The only hope for me is you.

Frank shows the French a bit of MCR at La Cigale, Pairs on November 1, 2010. 

The concert is part of The World Contamination Tour to support the band’s fourth studio album, “Danger Day: The True live of the Fabulous Killjoys.”

[photo credit; emmgie]

[gerxrdwxy]

I Miss You More Than I Did Yesterday - Frerard

Description:  Recording for Danger Days has finally begun, and it is in no way going how Frank expected. It is so much better.

Warnings: Everything I write will have mild language and nothing else unless tagged otherwise Mild Language

Word Count: 1156

Read at AO3 here or below:

Frank doesn't want to go into the studio today. Going into the studio means seeing the band, and seeing the band means seeing Gerard. Recently, seeing Gerard means Frank's heart breaking a little further every time he hears about Lindsey.

He hasn't told the guys yet that he broke up with Jamia. He definitely hasn't told them he dumped her because he couldn't stop thinking about Gerard.

Nevertheless, Frank walks in. They've been through a few songs already, and the album is going well, in Frank's opinion. The album also just might break him.

Frank doesn't want to go into the studio today. Going into the studio means seeing the band, and seeing the band means seeing Gerard. Recently, seeing Gerard means Frank's heart breaking a little further every time he hears about Lindsey.

He hasn't told the guys yet that he broke up with Jamia. He definitely hasn't told them he dumped her because he couldn't stop thinking about Gerard.

Nevertheless, Frank walks in. They've been through a few songs already, and the album is going well, in Frank's opinion. The album also just might break him.

Gerard is being downright right cruel at this point, Frank decides. The first thing they played when they started to record 'Danger Days' was "Summertime" and seeing Gerard sing with his old passion lyrics that were clearly about Lindsey made Frank unfairly and painfully jealous. No one could quite figure out why Frank walked out the moment the song was over, slamming the door in Gerard's face. Or if they did, no one mentioned it.

The days after, Gerard had obviously gotten the message and played some of his other songs, and explained the 'Dr. Death tracks' to the guys. Today, Frank has a feeling Gerard has run out of anti-love songs.

"Remember me, remember me..." Frank is instantly stunned by the vocals on this track whose name has yet to be revealed. This track is far different than anything else that has been played so far, and seems far more emotion-based. Great, Frank thinks, another song about Lindsey motherfucking Ballato. That's what I need today. When the chorus begins, though, Frank's never been angrier, not even during 'Summertime'.

"Can I be the only hope for you? Because you're the only hope for me..." How dare he? Frank thinks furiously. The line that is the chorus for Gerard's new song is the line that has poisoned his mind ever since Gerard broke his heart. It's their line. It's what Frank would tell his (ex)boyfriend whenever he was fucked up and depressed. It was their way of saying 'I love you' for fucks sake!

Frank tries. He really tries to just play his part and ignore the lyrics, but eventually he can't take it anymore. He lets his guitar drop to hang from its strap and begins to pick his way across the room towards the door. He half hopes Gerard will stop him, but instead as he reaches the door it's Ray that stops playing, followed by everyone else, and calls out.

"Iero! Get your ass back over here, we're getting through this song because I need to work on my part and we harmonize!" Frank debates whether or not to ignore Ray, but seeing as his point is valid he begrudgingly walks back to his spot and lifts his guitar. To his surprise, Ray isn't done. "Ier-Frank, I know what's going on, and we're fixing it right fucking now. Now, play the damn song and stop looking at the floor while you do it!" Frank, sensing Ray's mood, does as he's told and picks up where they left off. He lifts his eyes from the floor, almost resenting Ray for making him look straight at Gerard.

"If that's the best that I could be?" Frank braces himself for the chorus to come back again. "Because the only hope for me is you alone," Gerard sings, flawlessly as always, looking Frank directly in the eye.

Frank's first thought is, is he trying to mess with my feelings? What a fucking asshole. And then he sees the sincerity in Gerard's eyes and -fuck Ray and his instructions- drops his guitar again, this time actually pulling it over his head: he's not coming back. Not today, at least. He walks out the door, and no one stops him. He lets it fall shut behind him, and no one calls out. He hears Ray messing with chords, and Mikey's bass rhythms in the background.

Frank leans back against the door, hands on his head. He tries to process everything that just happened, and why Gerard looked straight at him when he sang their line is all that even makes its way into Frank's mind. He stands, replaying the moment in his mind. When the door behind him opens, he falls back. Directly into Gerard's arms.

Frantically, Frank scrambles to right himself. He knows where they stand, where they stood the last time he was in this position. Surprisingly, Gerard doesn't let him go. Frank is about to force his way out of Gerard's grip when the taller man suddenly leans down and whispers into Frank's ear.

"You'll always be the only hope for me, Frankie." Gerard murmurs. As much as its exactly what Frank wants to hear, he knows it isn't right. He spins to face Gerard, shutting the door behind Gerard before he speaks.

"You have a girlfriend, Gerard!" Frank practically spits.

"Had a girlfriend. She got tired of me, I guess." Gerard runs is hand through his now-long, bright orange hair. "I, uh, sorry if I came on kind of strong... it's just that, I've missed you, Frank. I missed us! So fucking much." Then he looks worried. "Oh, shit. Frank, you're the one with the girlfriend! How could I have been so stupid! Shit, Frank, I'm sorry." Gerard tries to turn and go back into the practice room when Frank grabs his shoulder and spins him around.

"I'm glad you've missed me, Gee. Because I've missed us." Frank wraps his arms around the older boys neck. "And about Jamia... I broke up with her because it wasn't fair that I had a girlfriend and the only person I could think about was you."

Frank sighs at the relief of finally having Gerard back in his life. In response, Gerard pulls him into his chest, and Frank just stands, breathing in the familiar smell of him.

He's more than compliant when Gerard tilts his head back slightly, just enough to kiss him. Before he does, though, Frank feels warm breath against his lips.

"Can I be the only hope for you?" Gerard says to Frank's lips, their faces nearly touching. Frank responds by mumbling against Gerard's lips, but they're already kissing when he finally says what he hasn't said in so many months.

"Always."

When Frank ends up shoving Gerard against the door, he continues to mouth 'always' against his lips. He only stops when the door is pulled open to reveal an unhappy looking Ray. Unlike before, Frank doesn't fall dramatically into Ray's arms. Instead, he falls on top of Gerard. They lay on the floor, an indistinguishable-except-for-Frank's-tattoos pile of limbs, and resume kissing.

Mikey groans audibly and shoves his way past the mess that is Frank and Gerard and out the door, reminded again of what it's like when his brother is on the same bus as his boyfriend. Mikey is suddenly far less excited about touring for Danger Days.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9834785

[fireninjadagger-blog]

Give Me All Your Hopeless Hearts

Synopsis: Frank didn't plan on befriending the art and music kids at school and he especially had no intentions of falling in love with Gerard Way. All he wanted was to get through the year as quickly and as painlessly as possible.  Frerard: Classic high school setting but I'm fairly certain this combination of characters has never been done before. My Chemical Romance, Tonight Alive, Set It Off, PVRIS, Panic! At The Disco, Paramore, Fall Out Boy. 

Chapter1: September 15th

       "This will be your class schedule," the secretary says handing me a printed form. I take the warm paper from her hand and scan it. Well, at least they got the guitar class I wanted and I was also given the early release I was promised. Though I didn't ask for math, history, or English but this is a school so I can't really complain there. I got what I wanted and looks like my study hall is the first hour. Good, I'm not a morning person. "Is there any other questions you have that I could answer for you?"        I glance up from my schedule and look at the woman. "No, that's all, I guess," I mumble.        "Well then, welcome to North Shore High," she says with a cheery smile. I stand and fling my bag over my right shoulder then shuffle out of here. I guess I should be going to class but I don't really want to. Due to the untimely cross-country move, I'm already coming to school two weeks after it started, making my transition a hell of a lot bumpier. As if the new kid from New Jersey dropping into a sea full of prissy teens living their whole lives in upstate Cali wasn't bad enough. I'd be worried I'd get jumped for standing out so badly but I have to remember I'm not at home anymore where not constantly looking over your shoulder is a death sentence. The worst thing that could happen here is you tan too dark for your eyebrows or someone else bought your $750 dollar shoes and you can't wear them anymore to be "original".        I know I'm just being spiteful here and I'm sure not everyone is as bad as I built them to be in my head. But I fought a one-man war about this move and tragically lost. I don't know how I planned on spending my summer but moving from New Jersey to California was definitely nowhere on the list. My top three would be catching up on sleep, finally relaxing, and saving up to buy an electric guitar. Turns out parents' job rearranges everything. When my mom and dad sat me down to tell me, I was expecting them to inform me they are finally getting a divorce. They've been fighting over the years and it kept getting worse and worse. I know deep down they don't love each other anymore like how they did when I was younger and I felt it coming soon, I felt in my heart. The fact they shouldn't be together is the only thing they could ever agree on in the past 10 years. But turns out they still haven't gotten around to the divorce so instead, both of my parents move to California and they drag me along biting and clawing the whole way there. How could I possibly move across the country and not be angry? I knew they were both offered jobs over in LA but I'm in school and my life is in New Jersey. I didn't want to go but I didn't get a say in the matter. After doing everything I could, I knew there was no way I could opt out of this move or convince them otherwise. So I lost the war but I did win one battle and it was the battle of my life. I managed to compromise and at least get to finish my sophomore year before the move.        I told my friends I was leaving but none of them took it as hard as I did. They were "bummed out" but nowhere near as distressed as I as. It seemed to constantly slip their mind I was leaving too because I had to keep pointing it out every time they talked about "next year" with me. I wasn't going to be there next year and they didn't seem to care. It was in that moment I realized you're not supposed to care much about your friends. I mean, the lot of us never really been close. We were all very different. Charlie and Luke were on the football team, Patrick was the super nerd in all the computer, science, and math classes, Darin was I dare say the delinquent of our group as well as the player. Then there's me: the metalhead who likes music too much for my own good. Friends aren't much of anything besides something to pass the time. I could never define friends until now.

       I climb up to the second floor and roam the halls until I come across the room number. The door is open and the teacher is sitting in the front at his desk typing on the computer while the class is working or diligently napping. A few kids have their earbuds in while writing homework assignments, some kids are talking to their friends next to them but a majority of them are either on their phones or burying their face in their desk asleep.        I walk up to the teacher's desk and he looks up at me. "Ah, you must be the new student," he says getting up and greeting me. "Frank Lero is it?"        "It's Iero actually," I correct.        "Oh, my bad," he says. "Well, welcome to our school. I'm Mr. Cee and this is your study hall. I know it's the first period of the day so you won't always have work. If that's the case, I don't mind you on your phone or relaxing before you go to your other classes. I also don't have assigned seats, you can find a place. And if you ever need to go somewhere else like a computer lab, library, any other class, just sign out with a pass and you're good."        "Okay, thanks," I say and awkwardly shuffle away from his desk and glance over at my options of open seats. A few kids noticed my arrival and are glances at me. Others are too busy to realize which is all for the better I'd say. Then I spot an empty seat in the very back of the room on the same side as the door. That's a good place. I head over to the empty seat and ask the girl with glowing hair next to it if it's taken.        "Huh?" she says still laughing at whatever funny thing her boyfriend or wannabe boyfriend said to her.        "Is this seat taken?" I ask again.        She brushes her neon, scarlet hair out of her face and looks up at me still giddy. "Oh, no. You can sit there," she says. I drop my bag off my shoulder and grab the strap before it thuds to the ground and I sit down. The girl starts giggling again and the guy with dark hair shortly cropped on the sides with longer bangs falls over on his desk. I roll my eyes at those two and put my music in. I just want to get through the day and then the week. I just want to get through this year and repeat for my senior year. I don't care anymore, I just want to get through high school in one piece and then I'm done. I don't ever have to deal with this again, I'm free. I just want to be invisible and make this as painless as possible. No time to bother making friends, I doubt any of them are worth it. There's no such thing as real friends. Just people to pass the time. I turn on my phone and look at my text messages. The last text I received was from my mother this morning. The standard "have a good day at school! Here's our address in case you forgot so you know how to get home" My dad hasn't texted me recently and my friends all forgot about me already. I've tried texting them in our group chat but they started talking about hanging out together, which I clearly can't do anymore. Then Patrick said they should make a group chat with all of them but not Frank and use it for when they hang out so I don't feel bad. I guess they started using the one without me and never went back. I tried texting them, both on the big one and individually. Some of them haven't responded, Patrick hasn't even opened my texts to read. The ones who to respond only send one-word replies and kill the conversation quickly. I eventually left the group chat and stopped trying a long time ago. I've come to see they don't text me, to begin with, which is why I no longer have friends and maybe never had any in the first place.

       After a period of sitting there contemplating my life while listening to Smashing Pumpkins, I make my way down to the music hallway for guitar. I really hope that this class is better than the last one, something to do but hopefully even less interaction with people other than a teacher. Sitting in the corner by the door, I notice in the back the same girl and guy from my study hall are here except they're with more friends. There's five of them all together. Another guy wearing a hoodie and two more girls with a unique hair. The brunette has really long hair down to her waist and it's wavy. The side of her temples are shaved completely and she wears all black and grey schemed clothes. Grey tights, black boots, dark grey skirt, light grey blouse and a very classy jacket. Then the other girl sitting next to the fancy lady is dressed similarly to the neon-haired girl. She too has ripped skinny jeans, converse, some sleeveless shirt that requires her to wear a black tank top underneath and a flannel tied around her waist. The five of them all sit in a tight circle laughing together and playing really obnoxiously on their instruments. Part of me really wants to start shredding Metallica because I know how to but I don't think that would be a good idea. Remember, low profile and invisible.

       History goes by. Gym goes by. Lunch is a real adventure trying to find somewhere to sit and then I have a brilliant idea of going down to the empty guitar room during my lunch period. No one is in here so no one can bother me. I'm almost done with the day when English comes around and I have an aneurysm. I go up to the teacher and instead of keeping her cool like the other teachers have, she makes a huge scene after the bell rings.        The last of the kids walk into class as the bell rings and they're all still talking when she pulls this stunt. "Class, we have a new student today." Everyone quiets down and starts looking around the room. I pull my hood over my head and try to avoid eye contact. Oh god... "Frank? Please stand up so we can all meet you." By now, a majority of the class knows I'm the new kid intruding on their lives. I reluctantly stand and pull my jacket down. I'm now showing the whole class how short I am. If I was a girl, I'd be average height except I'm a guy and I am pathetically small. "Introduce yourself to the class," the teacher says with her preppy voice.        "My name is Frank Iero," I reply.        The teacher waits for me to continue but I just stare at her wanting permission to sit back down. "Tell us where you're from and something about yourself so we get to know you."        This is not part of the plan. I'm just supposed to pass by here invisibly and unnoticed until I'm free. I don't want people to know who I am. I just want to hide. "I'm from Summit, New Jersey and I like the color red," I say flatly. There are some whispers going around over the fact I'm from Jersey.        "Oh, that must be exciting over there. Did you like it?" the teacher asks.        "Yes. And then I was dragged here to this land of sunshine." The teacher looks at me slightly uncomfortable sensing my attitude.        "Well, thank you, Frank. You may sit down." My knees collapse as soon as the words leave her mouth and I retreat back underneath the hood of my leather jacket and do my best to become invisible. God, that was utterly humiliating. I could have just died on the spot right there. Hell, dying on the spot right there would have been better. Man, this is a train wreck. I just want to go back to Jersey. I may not have had friends but I fit in with the people there. Everyone listened to the same music and it was a passion we carried deep in our blood. We fought for what we loved and we lived as though we'd die tomorrow. People were crazy, everyone was crazy and everyone was okay with being crazy. There was violence that made you fearful and knowing one wrong mistake may get you killed prevented the idiots from surviving. Everyone around had common sense and we weren't stupid. Knowing while walking home you might get shot made sure you never took anything for granted. We all sounded the same and we were never pointed out for how we pronounced words and we never pointed out when someone we knew spoke differently. I missed it back there. I don't belong in California.        The period is almost over when someone taps my shoulder. I uneasily turn around to see the girl from my guitar class wave at me. It's the girl with the flannel around her waist and sitting next to her is the other girl who dressed as if she just might go have tea with the queen of England at any moment. "Hi," she says cheerfully.        "Hi?" I say unsure and give a small wave.        "So you're new here, huh?" she brings up as a conversation starter. I really wish she didn't feel the need to talk to me for the sake of talking to the new kid.        "Yeah," I answer hoping to end the conversation.        "My name's Jenna and this is my-," Jenna looks back at the girl and gives a nervous laugh, "my friend Lynn."        "Hi," I respond towards Lynn.        "Yeah, well, I noticed I had a lot of class with you. Our friend Hayley said you sit next to her and Brendon in study and I saw you also in my gym class. You seem to be hanging by yourself so I wanted to ask you if in guitar tomorrow you wanted to sit with my friends and me."        "Oh, um, that's-wow-really nice of you," I say, sitting up. "Um, I guess if it's cool with them."        "Oh, totally. They're super chill. And Hayley and Brendon said they wanted to talk to you but you had your earbuds in so you didn't hear them.        "I didn't know they were," I say. "I didn't really want to bother those two, couples tend to get annoyed with others intrude I thought."        Jenna and Lynn start giggling. "Oh, no. Hayley and Brendon aren't dating. No, they're like brother and sister. And Brendon is dating someone else," Lynn explains.        "Oh, okay," I note. "So, I'll see you girls tomorrow then?" I ask.        "Definitely," they say in unison and then look at each other laughing. I smile warmly as the bell rings and I head to my math class. I resume my undercover op of remaining invisible however I kind of wished Jenna or Lynn were here, especially Jenna. They were really nice to me and Jenna seems like we'd make good friends. I can tell just by the way she dresses. And she's really nice, I don't know. God, what's gotten into me? One nice person makes an effort of being kind to me and all of a sudden, I'm hoping she's my best friend. I need to keep it cool, in case this is just getting to my head.        My math class ends and I don't have homework considering I used to be a year ahead of math at my old school and they put me in honors juniors math, which is technically the class I took last year. This is way too easy for me but all the better to get an easy A. My early release is after math class so when the bell rings, I walk out of the school. My phone had my new home address typed into google maps so I knew how to get back from here. On my way out, I see Jenna again with more of her friends. The girl she's with looks like her twin. It's not Hayley or Lynn but another girl. I think Jenna has a twin because this girl has the same 90's punk rock style cut and platinum, bleached blonde hair. They look like they both have an off style of Joan Jett's hair but bleached to an almost white. They also both have ripped skinny jeans, Jenna's grey and the other girl's blue. They have the converse, tied flannels, and sleeveless tops. The two of them walk together in front of the rest of them. Only one of the guys is familiar. I don't think it's the Brendon dude so it's the other one in guitar class. There are two more guys walking side by side. One wearing sports clothes and looks like a preppy athlete, the other kind of looks like me almost. Long, black bangs covering his face, wearing a leather jacket with the hood up and his bag hastily slung over his left shoulder. The only real difference between me and this guy walking out with Jenna and her friends is he's a few inches taller and he's carrying a bulky sketchbook.

Continue reading here! Hope you enjoyed :) Wattpad and Quotev: @.FireNinjaDagger https://www.wattpad.com/story/108061102-give-me-all-your-hopeless-hearts-frerard-high