Creepy fan-girls usually stalk the men of My Chem. But what happens when the roles are reversed? Frank Iero has got a tale for you.
Well, obviously there is something very deeply wrong with me, I just told myself I'm crazy. I think I'll take my word for it. I mean, I don't really need any further proof other than I was just talking to myself and what I'm doing right now.
I stand, backstage after a concert in Villrick, New Jersey, staring at the mass of kids coming to and fro. Well, really, I'm only staring at one kid and if luck holds out, she ain't no kid. Then again, if luck holds out my wife gets hit by a bus or something.
Oh. My. God I know you just did NOT make a death wish for you wife!
No! Wait, I didn't mean it like that, I swear! What I meant was.... um, I'm not sure what I meant but it sure as hell wasn't that.
You see, there's this girl... I don't know her name. And she goes to almost every one of our shows across the country (don't ask I don't know how she does it). And she is pretty much guaranteed to be in the front row, to the left side, narrowly avoiding the mosh pit. Her hair is usually down, but then again so does everyone these days.
Her hair is just below her should blades and is black with a deep purple frontal fringe-bangs thing. A few years ago it was blond, not purple.
Oh, um, well..... I've been at this quite some time now and I won't say I stalk her, but I definitely make it a point to memorize her every move and/or mannerism. Oh, shut up! It's not stalking. Err.... I don't think it's stalking; I keep a fair distance.
"You gonna disappear right about now like always, Iero?" I hear a high-pitched voice ask. It's Ray, ugh. He's really been getting on my nerves lately specifically for snide remarks like that. It's pure unnecessary. What's it to him if I go off after every show so long as I'm in the right city for the next one anyway?
"Yeah, actually I think I am afro-puff," I sneered picking up a water bottle and walking off. I could seem to get very far without these douch bags talking about why I'm never around. What are we, married?
"Frank," grunted Chris, that security guy. He's pretty cool but I think he knows too much. Maybe I'll have to do away with him..... mwahahaha. No, wait! That's a bad idea, moving on....
"Chrissy," I greeted with a flirty smile. Did I mention the dude's gay? Seriously he's like a bajillion feet taller than me and about two and half Bob's big.... and he digs dick. I'll never understand how this world works.
"Going 'out' again, Frank." He more so said it than asked it. As I said, I've been at this for roughly two years; he knows the drill. I leave with no questions. That's how it is.
"Later, sugar," I smirked and off I went.
You could introduce yourself, you know.
Well, let's see why that would be a good idea. Any suggestions? No? Too bad. Now, why it would be a bad idea; what the fuck am I supposed to say? "Hey, I'm Frank Iero and I couldn't help but notice you have come to almost every U.S. show for about two years... seeing as how I'm stalking you and all!"
WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! Not gonna happen, dude. No dice.
I was so wrapped up in my own mental battle (remind me to have that checked out when I go back to Newark in a few days. Noted. Yeah, definitely have that checked out.) I didn't watch where I was walking. You know, I probably wouldn't have paid any attention anyway, but who has time for exacts?
"Aww, fuck," a high, singing voice said with a strange accent. It sounded something like a New York accent halfed with a Canadian accent with a splash of Southern, in my best guess. I don't think that's possible but oh well. I looked up and possibly gasped/ shrieked in terror at what I saw.
It was her.
Hey bitches! How do you like this story so far? You all know that you would want one of the gorgeous MCR boys to stalk you, so I made it a reality. Correction: I made it the next best thing to reality, fan fiction.
Rate and review..... actually I don't give a fuck if you rate, just review. It's common courtesy.
P.S. and for those of you who were wondering why my name was so 'unoriginal' it's not really. Only in this field is it far too played out.
Yeah, I know.