Frank groaned again. "I can't believe I fucking did this."
It had just been an in-the-moment mistake, one that you don't really think about but just /do/, then in the aftermath realize just how bad what you'd done was.
Frank Iero sat on an old red couch backstage, resting his head on his hand, elbow on knee. Pansy was sitting, unreparable, on the table in front of him. Frank groaned.
Ray came over and sat next to him. "What are you going to do?"
Frank groaned again. "I can't believe I fucking did this." He left the room, then came back moments later with a cardboard box that he brought next to the table, then slowly began to place the guitar and every little peice into it.
"Well, atleast now we all have money," Ray told Frank. He wanted to laugh, but Frank seemed so bummed. Pansy had been the 'lucky guitar'. But still, Frank could have all the guitars he wanted, and he had another in the bus.
Frank shrugged. Just the thought of replacing Pansy made his stomach knot up.
As if reading Frank's mind, Ray said, "Well you can still keep it... you don't have to replace it."
Again, Frank shrugged. He stood looking at the box's contents for a moment, then closed it up and carried it into the band's bus. He sat down inside and stared out the window in the building where it all happened; MTV studios, New York City.
Gerard singing the last notes of I'm not okay, the drumbeat coming into chaos, and Frank (who just played the song perfectly, thanks to his lucky guitar) slamming his guitar into the MTV sign.
Oh, and this lucky guitar, Pansy? It was supposed to be indestructible.