Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Stockholm Syndrome
“Alright,” Frank sighed, exhaling a long train of smoke. The sound of hissing paper filled the room as he lit a new cigarette, flicking the spent one into an ashtray on the bedside table. “You can go, now.”
“Excuse me?” The blonde lifted her head off of the man’s tattooed chest and twisted her neck around to look at him.
“You can go, now. Your purse is on the nightstand, you kicked your shoes off somewhere by the door, and every cab company in this city has my credit card on record. You can go. Now,” he added at her hesitation.
“Asshole,” the girl murmured, shaking her head and grabbing her shoes on the way out of Frank’s bedroom.
“Slut,” he sighed, not taking any care to keep his voice low. She marched out, letting her pounding footsteps be heard all the way down the hall and stairs, taking good measure to slam the front door as she left. “How inconsiderate,” Frank tsk-ed.
“I don’t know if you noticed, Casanova.” Ray appeared in the doorway, looking sleepy and somewhat annoyed. “But there are other people sleeping in this house.”
“I’m sure you’ll all get back to sleep just fine,” Frank said, somewhat venomously. Yes, they probably would all sleep just fine, and he would be up all night, tossing and turning, unable to drift off for even an hour.
“You know--” Ray began, pushing a hand through his hair. He stopped mid-way, however, and seemed to think better of whatever he was about to say. “Just watch our for yourself, okay?”
Frank snorted. “Whatever,” he said lazily, stubbing out his second cigarette.
“You really should forget about her. Move on.” Frank snapped up, eyes narrowing.
“Who?” he snarled.
“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Frank.”
“I do not need to ‘move on,’ because I never lingered on anyone or anything. There’s nothing to forget.” He crossed his arms, clicking his lip ring against his teeth and refusing to make eye contact with Ray.
“Whatever you say, Frank. It’s your life.” With that, the other man was gone, and Frank was left alone.
When he was sure that Ray had gotten into bed and would not be returning to continue their fight, Frank got up and quietly crept to his closet. He reached as high up as he could get, separating the molding from the wall and slipping out a small, slightly crumpled square of glossy paper that was stored there. He held the photograph face-down in his palm for a moment, taking a deep breath before turning it over and biting his lower lip.
A small, pale girl with long black hair stared dolefully back at him. Her small, wan face was dull and lifeless, forever immortalized in the print. She was wearing a red sweater and a green skirt, with green stockings and shiny, black Mary Janes. Clutched in her long, thin fingers was an artfully wrapped box, complete with a bow and ribbons. She stood before a tall, dark, looming pine, decorated to the nines with lights, garland, tinsel, ornaments, bells, and everything else that belonged on a Christmas tree.
The Polaroid didn’t do the girl’s beauty justice; it was blurry, faded, and just didn’t capture her delicate features in the right way. Or maybe Frank was just over remembering. No, he decided, placing the photo back in its hiding spot; he remembered everything about her perfectly, that day especially.
It was simply another mind game; Paulina couldn’t wrap her mind around the hype that was buzzing around the house over Christmas. They certainly didn’t seem like the Christmas type: five guys, no discernable family ties, no real sense of affection between the lot of them. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, considering how it twisted Paulina’s perception so. The day that photo had been taken, they’d spent the night decorating the tree and wrapping presents that no one really cared about. Paulina had placed the star at the top of the tree, with assistance from Bob, of course. She had wrapped the garland, hooked the ornaments, and done most of the decorating. She had a knack for that sort of thing, Frank thought, looking back. It really had looked nice.
As far as anyone else knew, he’d gotten rid of all the photos he’d taken that day. He’d only taken them to promote their confidence in their plan to Paulina, and it had worked. She was shocked into fearful silence for most of the day once the first picture was taken. Frank had thrown all the Polaroid photos, the film canister, and even the camera into the fire. Something, however, had compelled him to keep this one picture for himself. He was glad he had, but he knew better than to let anyone else know about it.
A faint knock on the doorframe jostled Frank from his memories, making him jump and turn towards the wide-open door. Gerard stood there, in his boxers and a cotton shirt, examining his closest friend through heavily-lidded and darkly-ringed eyes.
“What?” Frank yelped, his voice in a bit too high of a register for his liking; he cleared his throat and repeated, “What do you need?” Gerard shrugged, meandering into the room and leaning against the bedside table.
“Just wondering what you were up to at this time of night. It’s late.”
“Just--Nothing, Gerard. Go back to sleep.” Frank ran a hand through his hair and collapsed on his bed once more, knowing that sleep would not come for him, and knowing that he wouldn’t welcome it even if it did.
“I would, but I hate seeing you so glum, my friend.” Gerard could be startlingly observant at times, and it somewhat frightened Frank when he thought too far into it. “Care to discuss? Penny for your thoughts.”
“It’s really nothing. Just…just me being foolish, I suppose.”
“Well, I knew that!” Gerard said, straightening and crossing to the bedroom door. “I only figured you needed to hear it for yourself, from yourself.” With that, he departed back to his own bedroom, to fall into his own insane world of dreams; God only knew what ran through his mind unfiltered.
Frank sighed and shook his head. Yes, he said to himself. More often than not, Gerard’s observations were eerily accurate. And Frank only wished that, for once, his friend would be wrong.
Hello, strangers. I wonder if you all had thought I'd died? No such luck. I've just been...very busy. VERY. If I'm not at school, I'm working, and if I'm not working, I'm sleeping. Honestly. Cross my heart. It's been about three months since my last update, and for that, I'm truly sorry. I'm just glad I could get this up before the new year, otherwise I know you guys would think I'd TOTALLY abandoned you. Anyway, I kinda swapped over POV, which was completely unplanned, but I think I like this direction better. At least for now. We'll see where the next chapter takes us (and there WILL be a next chapter). Anywho. That's all I can think of to say. Once again, I'm truly sorry for the wait, and I hope this makes up for it. At least a little bit. I'll see you all soon, have a happy holidays if it's not before then. Go comment/subscribe if you haven't, please. OverAndOutxx
“Excuse me?” The blonde lifted her head off of the man’s tattooed chest and twisted her neck around to look at him.
“You can go, now. Your purse is on the nightstand, you kicked your shoes off somewhere by the door, and every cab company in this city has my credit card on record. You can go. Now,” he added at her hesitation.
“Asshole,” the girl murmured, shaking her head and grabbing her shoes on the way out of Frank’s bedroom.
“Slut,” he sighed, not taking any care to keep his voice low. She marched out, letting her pounding footsteps be heard all the way down the hall and stairs, taking good measure to slam the front door as she left. “How inconsiderate,” Frank tsk-ed.
“I don’t know if you noticed, Casanova.” Ray appeared in the doorway, looking sleepy and somewhat annoyed. “But there are other people sleeping in this house.”
“I’m sure you’ll all get back to sleep just fine,” Frank said, somewhat venomously. Yes, they probably would all sleep just fine, and he would be up all night, tossing and turning, unable to drift off for even an hour.
“You know--” Ray began, pushing a hand through his hair. He stopped mid-way, however, and seemed to think better of whatever he was about to say. “Just watch our for yourself, okay?”
Frank snorted. “Whatever,” he said lazily, stubbing out his second cigarette.
“You really should forget about her. Move on.” Frank snapped up, eyes narrowing.
“Who?” he snarled.
“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Frank.”
“I do not need to ‘move on,’ because I never lingered on anyone or anything. There’s nothing to forget.” He crossed his arms, clicking his lip ring against his teeth and refusing to make eye contact with Ray.
“Whatever you say, Frank. It’s your life.” With that, the other man was gone, and Frank was left alone.
When he was sure that Ray had gotten into bed and would not be returning to continue their fight, Frank got up and quietly crept to his closet. He reached as high up as he could get, separating the molding from the wall and slipping out a small, slightly crumpled square of glossy paper that was stored there. He held the photograph face-down in his palm for a moment, taking a deep breath before turning it over and biting his lower lip.
A small, pale girl with long black hair stared dolefully back at him. Her small, wan face was dull and lifeless, forever immortalized in the print. She was wearing a red sweater and a green skirt, with green stockings and shiny, black Mary Janes. Clutched in her long, thin fingers was an artfully wrapped box, complete with a bow and ribbons. She stood before a tall, dark, looming pine, decorated to the nines with lights, garland, tinsel, ornaments, bells, and everything else that belonged on a Christmas tree.
The Polaroid didn’t do the girl’s beauty justice; it was blurry, faded, and just didn’t capture her delicate features in the right way. Or maybe Frank was just over remembering. No, he decided, placing the photo back in its hiding spot; he remembered everything about her perfectly, that day especially.
It was simply another mind game; Paulina couldn’t wrap her mind around the hype that was buzzing around the house over Christmas. They certainly didn’t seem like the Christmas type: five guys, no discernable family ties, no real sense of affection between the lot of them. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, considering how it twisted Paulina’s perception so. The day that photo had been taken, they’d spent the night decorating the tree and wrapping presents that no one really cared about. Paulina had placed the star at the top of the tree, with assistance from Bob, of course. She had wrapped the garland, hooked the ornaments, and done most of the decorating. She had a knack for that sort of thing, Frank thought, looking back. It really had looked nice.
As far as anyone else knew, he’d gotten rid of all the photos he’d taken that day. He’d only taken them to promote their confidence in their plan to Paulina, and it had worked. She was shocked into fearful silence for most of the day once the first picture was taken. Frank had thrown all the Polaroid photos, the film canister, and even the camera into the fire. Something, however, had compelled him to keep this one picture for himself. He was glad he had, but he knew better than to let anyone else know about it.
A faint knock on the doorframe jostled Frank from his memories, making him jump and turn towards the wide-open door. Gerard stood there, in his boxers and a cotton shirt, examining his closest friend through heavily-lidded and darkly-ringed eyes.
“What?” Frank yelped, his voice in a bit too high of a register for his liking; he cleared his throat and repeated, “What do you need?” Gerard shrugged, meandering into the room and leaning against the bedside table.
“Just wondering what you were up to at this time of night. It’s late.”
“Just--Nothing, Gerard. Go back to sleep.” Frank ran a hand through his hair and collapsed on his bed once more, knowing that sleep would not come for him, and knowing that he wouldn’t welcome it even if it did.
“I would, but I hate seeing you so glum, my friend.” Gerard could be startlingly observant at times, and it somewhat frightened Frank when he thought too far into it. “Care to discuss? Penny for your thoughts.”
“It’s really nothing. Just…just me being foolish, I suppose.”
“Well, I knew that!” Gerard said, straightening and crossing to the bedroom door. “I only figured you needed to hear it for yourself, from yourself.” With that, he departed back to his own bedroom, to fall into his own insane world of dreams; God only knew what ran through his mind unfiltered.
Frank sighed and shook his head. Yes, he said to himself. More often than not, Gerard’s observations were eerily accurate. And Frank only wished that, for once, his friend would be wrong.
Hello, strangers. I wonder if you all had thought I'd died? No such luck. I've just been...very busy. VERY. If I'm not at school, I'm working, and if I'm not working, I'm sleeping. Honestly. Cross my heart. It's been about three months since my last update, and for that, I'm truly sorry. I'm just glad I could get this up before the new year, otherwise I know you guys would think I'd TOTALLY abandoned you. Anyway, I kinda swapped over POV, which was completely unplanned, but I think I like this direction better. At least for now. We'll see where the next chapter takes us (and there WILL be a next chapter). Anywho. That's all I can think of to say. Once again, I'm truly sorry for the wait, and I hope this makes up for it. At least a little bit. I'll see you all soon, have a happy holidays if it's not before then. Go comment/subscribe if you haven't, please. OverAndOutxx
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