Molly's POV Gerard's POV Frank's POV
Kicking the door open I’m met by the smell of smoke, alcohol and sweat. A guy with spiky dark hair smiles at me as I hand him the five bucks required to get in this shit hole.
“We’ve missed you Molly,” he says as my eyes scan the room hoping to find Frankie.
Suddenly, I spot her sitting on a stool by the bar, talking to Striker. Well, at least she found someone safe. Pushing my way through the mass of people I’m met with quite a few hellos; I’m pretty well known in this place.
Just as I get to where I first saw Frankie a guy pins her up against the wall, forcing himself on her. Stupid fucker. Getting myself between the girl I view as a sister and the douche bag I push him back, hard, causing him to crash into a couch.
Striker already has the back door open for us. Launching myself over the bar I hurry out into the cool night, followed closely by Frankie. More than a little pissed at her for being so stupid I grab her by the shoulder, holding her against the graffiti covered brick wall.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing coming to a place like this? It’s dangerous,” I demand trying to keep my voice even; she doesn’t need to be yelled at.
“You seemed to handle yourself well enough,” Frankie answers, not making eye contact.
“Don’t be a smart ass. I did fine in there cause that’s the kind crowd I run with. Frankie they’d eat you up and spit you out,” I explain as we begin to walk again. I don’t want to keep her in this part of town for too much longer; it’s just not safe.
“You think your all cool running around in those stupid baggy shorts with the chains, your dark jackets and bright colored tank tops with your stupid eyeliner, those socks on your arms and combat boots but your not. I could have handled myself in there,” Frankie argues.
That’s it, I’ve lost my temper, “Then why the fuck did you call me?!”
Frankie shrinks away from me. Not wanting to deal with her anymore I drop my black and green skateboard on the ground and skate away, leaving Frankie to take care of herself.
Yeah, alright I’ll make sure I stay within sight of her but she’s pissed me off. Why ask for myself if you’re going to cop an attitude when I give it? Sometimes I don’t understand girls.
Molly has been gone for almost an hour. I’m on edge, pacing back and forth occasionally jumping up and down. Everyone else is looking at me funny but I don’t give a shit. Somewhere out in Jersey are my girlfriend and my little sister. Jersey is not a safe place for two girls, even if Mo is tough.
They should be home by now. Taking another beer from the cooler I down it quickly, trying to calm myself down; nothing seems to be working. Throwing my beer can against the wall I can hear commotion down stairs. Then, all of a sudden thin arms are thrown around my neck, legs wrapped around my waist.
“Molly, you’re okay. Where’s Frankie?” I question just glad that both girls are back.
Molly gets off of me, my arm finding its’ way around her waist, hand slipping into the back pocket of her black shorts, “She’s downstairs. I’m pretty sure she’s upset with me.”
I move away from her, anger bubbling up inside of me. What has she done to my little sister? Frankie doesn’t get mad at people that easily.
Pushing Molly by her shoulders, she flops onto the couch looking confused as she moves her hair away from her face, “What the hell Gee?”
“What the fuck did you do to my little sister?” I demand, face hovering inches from hers. I swear if she’s done anything I’ll never speak to the bitch again.
“I didn’t do anything,” Molly says looking on the verge of tears. “Gerard what’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? I think the question is what’s wrong with you. I know what you and Frank do when I’m not around, don’t think I’m stupid Molly.”
“Fuck you!” Molly hollers shoving me into Matt’s drum set. “Grow the fuck up and get sober! Frank Iero is my best friend I'm not doing anything with him!”
And she’s gone, storming out of the room, leaving her board propped up against the wall. Taking it I throw it through the window causing it to shatter, falling into a million pieces on the illuminated sidewalk below, the board splintering.
Frankie comes racing up the stairs, her hazel eyes wide, the self inflicted scars standing out a pink color against her pale skin. My sisters got it hard enough without Molly intergrading her into the land of people she hangs out with. Punks aren’t a safe crowd.
“What the hell is going on up here?” my little sister demands going to sit next to Mikey.
“What did she do to you?”
“Nothing, if anything Molly saved my life and then I had to go and be an ungrateful ass,” Frankie answers.
At her words I slide down the wall. I can’t believe what I had just done. Molly, the only girl I’ve actually ever loved, probably hates me now because I was an asshole. I yelled at her and accused her go doing things I should know she’d never do.
“Way to go man,” Matt says as everyone leaves me to sit upstairs and think.
It’s about two in the morning when a dark figure hoists themselves through my bedroom window, dropping to the floor with a loud thud. Only being half asleep I reach over and turn the lamp on. There, standing at the end of my bed is Molly. Her jeans are torn at the knee, converse dirty as normal, an oversized jacket pulled around her tiny body. There is eyeliner streaming down her face and her eyes sparkle.
Jumping up I grab her just as she begins to fall. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes fills my nose but I hardly care. She’s hurting and she came to me…Molly’s my responsibility. I have half a mind to ask why she’s not with Gerard but decide against it when I see the big gashes across her wrists.
Leaving her on the bed I hurry to the bathroom pulling out the medical tape, peroxide, and cotton balls. I can’t believe she’s back to that after all we went through to get her clean. Whatever’s bothering her must be really bad.
As I dump the peroxide on she winces, glaring at the little white bubbles as if they are the cause for all her pain. After a thorough cleaning I place the cotton balls on the wounds before wrapping them with medical tape.
Although I’d love to ask her who or what caused this I don’t, Molly’s ones of those girls who will only talk if she’s ready. She’s also one of those girls who says whatever the hell they want but I’m used to it.
“If he calls the house I’m not here,” she whispers, moving to sit on my lap, not protesting when I wrap my arms around her.
“If who calls princess?” I ask, as Molly burry’s her head into my neck, her breath warm against my skin.
“Gerard. He yelled at me tonight while he was drunk. He accused me of hurting his little sister when really all I did was save her scrawny ass. You know the club we hang out in, yeah well she found herself there,” Molly explains, playing with my fingers. “He also thinks we’re sneaking around behind his back.”
“I’m sorry princess,” I whisper as she crawls away from me and under the covers of my bed. “You rest, I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”
“No,” Molly says reaching for my hand. “You’ll be right here.”
Sighing I crawl into bed next to her, watching as she strips the oversized jacket off, her tank top a bright red color. As she curls up with her head on my bare chest I wrap a arm around her.
“I love you Frankie,” she whispers, eyes closed.
Wiping a tear off her face I sigh, “I love you too Molly.”
She won’t remember any of this tomorrow morning.