Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Hero

Hero

by Shiwoggi 6 Reviews

When he was younger, Frank always wanted superpowers. Now he was older, he wasn't so sure. New chapter, at last.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2011/12/28 - Updated: 2012/06/13 - 1800 words

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When Frank was younger, he though superheroes were the shit. He idolized Batman and wished he had superpowers, so he too could save the world. Now he was older and actually had the super powers he had so often dreamed about as a kid, he wasn’t so sure.

Well, maybe it wasn’t the powers that pissed him off, but the situation they’d put him in. The government had decided to round up all of the ‘gifted’ children and create a series of academies for them, so they could be molded into weapons. At least, that’s what Frank assumed they were there for. It wasn’t just the ulterior motive that was annoying him; the rest of the students were the biggest reasoning for his reluctance. He had managed to get into ‘Red Academy’ – the best academy for freaks like him. You had to be either insanely rich, or insanely powerful to even be considered (or afford the term fees, Frank thought snorting). Unluckily for him, he fell into the latter category and had won scholarship into this ‘prestigious establishment’ that he was staring at now.

He hated it, and he hadn’t even got this stuff out of the car yet. Glancing around, he could see he wasn’t going to fit in; this place was no place for a working class punk with battered converse, a scruffy fringe and tattoos. Most of the other students he could see had perfect uniform and neat shoes and tidy hair. Well, there went his chance of friends. Frank looked up at the school. Unlike the other schools for wackos with other abilities – Frank always referred to himself like that; it made him seem less crazy – this one had been converted from some old manor house. The archway was new though, and bore the name of the school, as well the motto: Et virtute magna, magnum officium est. Whatever that meant. The worst part was that he was on the other fucking side of the country from his beloved New Jersey. Instead of being in the grimy, cold and damp city of Newark with his best friend Ray, he was in stuck up, bright and the too fucking hot state of California. The nearest city was Sacra-something. He hadn’t given a shit where he was; all he knew was it too far from where he wanted to be. All ‘gifted’ – more like freaky – children had to be tested on their ability and from there an academy was chosen. And he landed up here.

Frank sighed and yanked his backpack a little higher onto his shoulder as well as dragging his case up the steps. He passed through the open paneled wood doors that were the entrance to the school and stepped into the entrance hall. And gaped. It was bigger than his whole house. It was fucking massive and fancy; marble floors and arches, cathedral ceiling and incredible artwork that adorned the walls. A couple of girls walked past and he heard the giggles, and the offended tone to their mutters; ‘Must be the scholar’. He was going to stick out more than he envisioned. His imagination had been pretty horrible, but he knew that he was going to be openly scorned and bullied here. And, of course, his powers had to be freaking telepathy and telekinesis. Fabulous – nothing helpful like super strength or energy blasts that would help him survive this hellhole. No, that would be too convenient. The best he could do was hear their thoughts and run on the other direction, or maybe move something heavy into them. He wasn’t going to last till Christmas.


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The main office was where all students had to go to in order to receive their dorm and timetable. Frank had literally no idea how boarding schools worked, but he had a bad feeling that dorms were shared. Sharing a room full of rich, snobby and probably homophobic boys that were gonna hate his working class, punk, gay ass was not something he had ever wanted to experience. But he’d been unlucky and had somehow ended up two powers (seriously, how greedy was that?) and that’s what had gotten him shipped out here. The queue outside the office jerked forward, and suddenly Frank was at the front, nervously giving his name to the snooty secretary. She openly sneered when she pulled up his file on the computer – Frank guessed his scholarship would be clearly advertised on that little page with all his details – and told him snippily that he’s be in the smallest dorm with only one other boy. He was grateful for that at least, and after being handed his timetable, was pointed in (what he hoped) was the correct direction for the boy’s dormitories.

The halls Frank was walking through weren’t as impressive as the entrance hall, but they were still definitely upper class. Dark wooden paneling and thick woven rugs were the standard décor, keeping in with the schools original aesthetics. After a few minutes of following a large group of boys, he finally came to a door with ‘Male Dormitories’ carved into it. Frank took a deep breath, and pushed the door open. The room inside was clearly a common room, brightly lit, with old style furniture and a fire glowing in the grate. Leather armchairs, deep burgundy floor to ceiling drapes, polished walnut tables; the whole place reeked of money and elegance. The difference between him and the other students became a stark realization. He’d always known he wouldn’t fit in, but these boys looked completely at home amongst the luxury the room was adorned in, whilst this was something he hadn’t even been able to picture. Frank picked his way through the common room carefully, sticking to the outside of the room, and carried on through and being met with a corridor with multiple doors – all with numbers carved into them. He glanced at the timetable he’d been grasping and saw the number the bitch secretary had written on there. Looked like he was room 13. But there were only 12 dorms in the corridor. Frank groaned. Everyone seemed to have it out for him already. Frank checked all the doors again, and then noticed a small stone staircase at the end of the corridor. It was tucked around the corner next to room 12. Could that be were room 13 was? He shrugged – there was nothing to lose by going up there and having a look.

The set of stairs curved slightly, meaning Frank couldn’t see the top of them, or what they led to. He debated about leaving his belongings where they were, incase it wasn’t the right place, but he quickly decided against it. He’s already caught the attention of what he guessed would be the bullies, if the stares they had given him were anything to go by, and he didn’t really fancy having his shit stolen, trashed or generally flung everywhere. His case was going with him then. Frank began to drag the heavy case up the stairs, as well as fumbling with his guitar case – for some reason it didn’t want to sit on his back – and fight with his backpack all at the same time. The staircase wasn’t very long, but it still took Frank about ten minutes to climb it simply because his stuff wasn’t being co-operative.
As he finally pulled his case up the last step, he looked around him. The door in front of him looked newer – the wood wasn’t so scuffed and smooth from wear – and rather than having the number carved elegantly into it, a plaque had been fixed to the door. A plaque that read ‘13’ and Frank practically buckled in relief that he didn’t have to tramp back down the stairs with his shit, and go and find the bitchy secretary again.

He pushed open the door to the empty dormitory. The other guy Frank would be sharing with – the secretary didn’t mention his name – had clearly been here. There was a brand new looking suitcase next to the bed by the door, and when Frank opened the only other door in the room that lead to an en-suite, he saw the guy’s tooth brush and razor and other general toiletries lined up against the wall. Frank shoved his stuff to the other end of the room, and sat on the bed nearest the window. He had the bed he would of chosen, if he had the option, so that didn’t bother him, but he wondered about his roommate and what kind of guy he was. Since he was shoved up here with Frank, the poor kid of the school, he guessed the guy wasn’t too popular either. Either that, or he was late in applying for the school. As bad as it sounded, he hoped that he was in the first category and not some rich snobby dickhead who was too lazy to get the application in on time.

Frank glanced out the window. The room faced west and he could clearly see the sun as it began to finish its descent into the ground. Lessons started tomorrow, and he was shattered from the five-hour flight it’d taken him to get to California from Newark as well as the hour cab ride to get here. He decided to dig out his pajamas from his case and get some sleep. He could set his shit up tomorrow. Frank stripped off his hoodie and yanked off his t-shirt before putting on an old Ramones shirt to sleep in. Then he pulled off his skinny jeans and dumped them on the floor, but left his plain black boxers on and climbed into the four-poster, over the top bed that was now his and lay down. A sigh escaped his lips. He was in a stupid, image obsessed state way too far from home; he was sharing a room with some boy who was probably going to hate him; he had fucking superpowers that he didn’t want and he was a complete outsider in this rich little world. That was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep.

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Hello! If you've gotten this far, firstly: thanks! This is my first fic and so far I've got two different ways it could go... Should Gerard be Frank's roommate or a teacher at the school? Please reveiw and tell me (as well as what you like and hated. I really don't mind if you bitch at me). If you're shy, or lazy, at least rate for me?
Virtual awesome shit (probably some form of unicorn/cookie/or COFFEE) if you do ^^
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