Their love is doomed and unhealthy, but also glorious. XxFRERARDxX
I groaned. 'The first day of school is always the worst.'...I tought to myself.
I got up and wearily made my way to my closet. I randomly picked a tee and a pair of skinnies, laid them on the bed and made my way to the bathroom.
As I passed the mirror I saw my reflection. I saw an extremely skinny tiny pale boy. Puffy hazel eyes and dark brown hair that looked like a bird's nest. In other words I looked like shit.
I took a quick shower. The feeling of the hot steamy water running down my body making my fuzziness drift away.
Getting out of the shower I grabbed a brush and tried taming my mess of a hair. After what felt like hours I managed to make it somewhat presentable. I smuged some black eyeliner and decided I looked decent enough.
I walked to my room and changed into the Black Flag tee I randomly chose and a pair of black skinnies. I still had some time left before the dreaded first day of school began.
I made my way downstairs and entered the kitchen. There was a big fresh cup of coffee waiting for me, and a note next to it. I left the note unoticed until I finished the cup of coffee of course. After I downed the whole thing in record time I lifted the little post-it note.
"Frankie, dear. I'm sorry but I had to left early for work. I probably wont be back til' really late, I have to work the night shift.There's a $50 dollar bill under the cookie jar for lunch. That should be enough to last you the whole week. xoxox-Mom"
I sighted. Ever scince we moved to Jersey we haven't spent much time together. But I understand she needs to work to support us.
After grabbing my bag and the money under the jar I left for school.
It was a cold gloomy day. But this is Jersey, better get used to it. Raindrops started to fall making contact with my exposed arms. Why the hell didn't I bring a hoodie? Oh well, I wasn't about to go all the way back just for a hoodie.
I continued my way to school. After what felt like hours I started to panic, I couldn't remember which way was the school. I really should of paid more attention when my mom took me around the neighborhood showing me the ways around.
I turned a corner and to my relief I saw the gray huge two story building, which could of easily being mistaken for a prision if it wasn't for the big sing that read 'Belleville High School'.
I took a look of my surroundings while approaching the gates. It was the typical High School.
Everyone in their own little stereotypic groups. The jocks, the slutty girls and cheerleaders, the goths, the nerds, the punks and the druggies, or at least that's what they looked like, with their wide grins and distant eyes laughing hystericaly with joints on their hands.
Making my way through the crowds I felt watched. Some kids where scoffing and giggling, others gave me pityful looks. I just arrived to this new, so called 'school' and I already hated it it.
I was about to open the door and step inside the hell hole when some guy yelled "fag" behind my back and without turning around I gave him the finger. I smircked. I wasn't about to let anyone insult me. I had enough with moving to a whole new state leaving my friends back in Los Angeles to be someone's personal punching bag.
Back in LA I was constantly bullied for my sexuality and looks. You see I was openly gay, some kids tought that was a good enough reason to recieve daily beatings. I decided that if I was moving to a whole new place I may as well take the chance and stand up for myself. I didn't want to feel shittier than I already do having to deal with the bullies. And maybe I could make some friends. But I won't get my hopes up. No, not yet.
After stepping inside the school I immediatly spotted the main office. I pushed the door open and walked to the front desk.
"Good morning." I smiled politely to the old lady sat in front of the computer.
"Good morning dear, you must be..." she looked down ruffling through some papers. "..Franklin Lero."
"Eye-year-oh, Frank Iero." I said a little exsasperated. 'How come everyone got my name wrong all the time?'
"Right. Eye-ro. Let me go get your time table, just a second." She said dissapearing into a back room. I sighted rolling my eyes and taking a seat on a beaten brown chair next to the door.
A good twenty minutes had passed but I wasn't complaining, to be honest I was glad, I didn't wanna go back out there with those ignorant people.
To my dissapointment the lady came back out handing me a paper. I muttered a thanks and slowly taking my time I opened the door and made my way out. I started searching for my homeroom class.
Within minutes I was standing outside of the class room. Suddenly I felt sick to the stomach. I was nervous. 'No, no Frank, compose yourself.' I tought to myself. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
I went to give my admission card to a the guy writing stuff on the white board, which I suposse was the teacher. He was an average looking guy dressed in formal clothes, brown eyes hidden beging big glasses, brown shaggy hair. He looked up, took my card and looked back at me.
With a skeptical look on his face said "Welcome Mr. Iero." I nodded.
"Go take a seat." He said turning back to the board.
The class was already full. Everyone seemed to have their eyes fixated on me. And I hated that. The only seat left was the one next to a dark silluette hunched over a notebook writing something.
As I got closer I noticed he wasn't writing, he was drawing. I couldn't make out what he was drawing because of the Inky black hair curtain covering it. But from what I could see the drawing had a lot of detail and looked good in my opinion, but I don't much about art.
I took a sat next to him to see everyone had stopped starring which was a relief but now they were talking amongst themselves and stealing glances at me. I just shook it off.
"Hello." A soft medody like voice said.
I looked to my left and saw the most enchanting beautiful deep green eyes with rich flecks of gold rimmed with black eyeliner that I had ever seen. They where breath taking and to my surprise they belonged to the boy that was artisrically drawing earlier.