Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I've got a dirty, little secret.. Or maybe one to many.

I've got a dirty, little secret.. Or maybe one to many.

by DisenchantedEnding 11 Reviews

Frank's got a diary.. and it's filled with unbearable secrets. Secrets that scar your eyes just by looking at them. So what happens when Gerard reads them?

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Published: 2011/07/12 - Updated: 2011/11/29 - 1285 words - Complete

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So, new story.. not sure if I'm going to continue with it, just a tester. So, if you like it Rate and review. I definitely need to know.. else I wont continue. Gratzi! :) xo

UPDATE: Okay, so there's some issues, unrealistic situations and incorrect facts, but they are all necessary. Well, apart from the issues.. but I've corrected most of them. So, if you don't mind reading them, read on! It's finished! :D


The water races downwards, edging nearer and nearer to the surface. It finally explodes as it reaches land, just as another drips out of the shining head of the tap.

"Gerard, what're you doing?" Frank's confused voice creeps up behind me.

"Watching a sink," I reply nonchalantly, staring as another droplet of water collides with the basin. My limp head is resting on my arms, supported by the glimmering granite surface. I'm standing in the kitchen, back bent over so I can hold up my head without much effort.

"I can see that," he says. I can almost see him rolling his eyes. Suddenly, he pulls me up, my heavy, exhausted eyes can only just about see him. He exhales deeply, pulling out a glass and filling it with water. Before I know it, he's swinging it at me, the freezing water droplets colliding with my ghostly skin, soaking my hair, stinging my eyes. I gasp at the coldness of it, rushing for the tea towel.

Frank's stood still, smirking and watching as I writhe and shiver.

"Shit man!" I shout, pulling the soft towel from my face to glare at him.

He shrugs. "Awake now?"

I nod angrily and moan.

Frank simply grins. "Good. We've got our first concert tonight. Remember?"

"Course I fucking remember!" I snap, still rubbing my red hair dry.

"What is all the commotion!?" Lindsey asks, trotting down the stairs and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She sees me soaking wet and sighs. "Did you get in the shower without taking your clothes off again? I've told you, Gerard, you have to get eno-"

By now I'm blushing furiously, Frank grinning like an idiot.

"No!" I say quickly, chucking the towel behind me.

Lindsey shrugs, pulling some Frankenberry cereal out of the sliding cupboard and pouring it slowly into a bowl. It's thundering crashes on the white, glazed clay are continuous and echoing, that is until, she stops.

"Yes Gerard.. What the hell did you do?" Frank's face is devoid of any emotion, but I know inside he's chortling about the 'showering in clothes' incident.

"Well, I was down here, minding my own business, when you splashed me with water and.." I blabber on about what happened in the past few minutes, smirking as Frank's eyes roll at me. I take a deep breath after finishing. "What?" I say, grinning. "You asked."

Lindsey rolls her eyes as she sits at our table, shoveling huge, heaped spoonfuls of Frankenberry into her blood-red mouth. She spits it out suddenly, bursting into heavy, wild laughter.

"What?!" I ask, cautiously checking she's not choking every few seconds.

"I.. JUST.. REMEMBERED.. YOUR.. FACE.." She starts panting, still chuckling hysterically, "WHEN.. YOU.. GOT.. OUT.. THE.. SHOWER.. IN.. CLOTHES!"

I slap my palm to my head and roll my eyes, grinning a little myself. It was a funny day, about 4 months after Bandit was born. I hadn't slept, at all. That week, I was constantly tending to the baby as her teeth broke in. She was always crying, moaning, burping, pooing or just plain hungry.

"I'll take her today, you go for a shower," Lindsey said, cringing at my odor. She pulled the frantic, teething baby from my arms and smiled, trying to somehow to kill her wailing.

"Thank you, oh God! THANK YOU!" I exclaimed, kissing her on the cheek and rushing into our en-suite. The shining tiles cried out as I stepped on them, my body becoming weaker and limper. They were black, neat and very, very cold.

I groaned, leaning over the basin of the sink. My eyes drooped, messy red hair sticking up all over the place. My exhausted, hazel eyes had huge, black bags underneath them, my cheeks paler than usual. I groaned, opening my eyes, and stepping into the shower.

"Make it freezing," I told myself. "It'll wake you up."

I turned on the shower, flinging my head back. I started wincing as the icy particles pierced my skin, dripping down my neck. I blobbed a heap of shampoo into my hands and began to lather it in my hair, massaging the scalp. Suddenly, I noticed my skin didn't feel wet from my collarbone downwards.

Prying open my eyes, I stared, in weary terror, at my fully clothed body.. socks and all. I cursed loudly, frantically crawling out of the showering and turning it off. But suddenly I slipped up, banging my head on the floor. I soon found myself groaning, wriggling, squirming and rolling around on the floor, holding my left eye and forehead, moaning loudly.

"Gerard, honey? Is everything okay?" Lindsey asked. "I'm coming in!"

Before I even got the chance to protest, Lindsey had strolled in, a silently crying baby in her arms, staring at me in bewilderment. For a few seconds, she looked like she cared then suddenly, she burst into a hysterical fit of laughter, pointing at me as she jiggled. She sat on the closed lid of the toilet, her eyes watering as she gripped her belly. Bandit even started laughing, flinging her head back carelessly as she chortled, her cute, crazy giggles echoing Lindsey's.

"Oh.." Gasp, "My.." Gasp, "God!" Lindsey chuckled, her laughs almost like squeals. Eventually, she was hiccuping, rubbing her chest; she always got painful hiccups.

Not that she didn't deserve it for laughing at my pain.

I stood up after a few minutes, glaring at her.

"Oh, Gerard honey.." she started, her laughs dying down. "What happened to your eye?"...


"That was a pretty funny day.." I say, smiling in it's memory.

Frank grins, but shortly after pouts, "I wish I was there." Then, running to the stairs, he continues, "I'll be in my room.. Stay awake Gerard!"

I nod.

Frank's staying with us because Jamia has recently died and the police are checking the apartment. No one believes her death is an accident. I remember watching with huge, horrified eyes as Frank got questioned, then again when he stood on our door sobbing. We took him in with open arms. He was seriously crushed and he still is.. Who wouldn't be? He's just acting strong, taking every day as it comes. But he's upset, I know he is. I hear his desperate pants at night.. his blubbering and howling.. However, he would never cry in front of us.

Lindsey hears him too, we just never say anything. He doesn't want us to know, so we act like we don't. Something has changed though.. he's started writing a diary. When I ask him about it he tells me he's been writing it since he joined My Chemical Romance, then nothing more.. which, I suppose, is believable. I remember on the first tour, he always used to carry a book around with him. I guess it's that book. No one was allowed to read it back then and we aren't now. Frank's got too much honor. He'd never spill the beans if he was crying at night.

Which, I suppose, I admire.

He's a 'do it for his friends' guy.. Slightly rebellious, fun and caring. Never mean, never nasty. He's respectable. And that's how I like it. A fun-sized, respectable Frank.

So, thoughts? Ideas? constructive criticism? Make my day! ..Or spoil it, whatever. :D xx
Thank you!
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