Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Five Beautiful Boys
Gerard sighed as he slid behind the desk in the large office, a large mug steaming with freshly made coffee clutched in his hand. Already his workload was piling up and it was only eight o’ clock. He had left Mikey sleeping, well, to be exact, he had left him snoring. The change of bed didn’t seem to have kept him from getting a good night’s sleep, but that might be partly due to the six pack they had each polished off. Mikey had arrived two days earlier, pleased merely to get the break. Anything would do, just so long as he wasn’t at home. Having recently split up with his girlfriend of three years, he had sought sanctuary with his older brother. Gerard had welcomed him readily but as yet, the brothers had had little opportunity to spend time together. Things weren’t going particularly well for Gerard either, but he wouldn’t dream of telling Mikey right now as he felt that his own problems paled into insignificance next to his brother’s.
What was wrong? His job. It should have been rewarding and interesting, but it wasn’t; it wasn’t even close. Yes, he had worked hard in school and obtained a good, solid well paid job with prospects. And yes, he knew that if he hadn’t tried hard at school he would be in a low paid job with no prospects at all. He knew he should be happy but he still felt restless and bored.
The truth was, he hadn’t known what he wanted to do when he was younger. His Careers Counsellor in high school was at a loss to know what to say to him. Gerard had been a bright pupil, getting mostly straight A’s but he had no actual interest in any of his academic subjects. He felt that there was something he hadn’t contemplated yet; something that was out there, ready for him to try and make a difference. His Careers Counsellor had finally given up and told him that he was deluding himself. So much for believing in yourself! It wasn’t worth pondering. He had had no idea what to do, and had finally drifted into banking through an internship that he had taken merely because he fancied a girl who had once worked there. That was, oh, too long ago. Despite his lack of interest, he had applied himself and had again been successful. Gerard found himself being rapidly promoted and now, as assistant manager, he was temporarily in charge.
Glancing at his diary for the day, he noticed that his very first appointment was with someone whose name could not be found on bank records. He was claiming to be making a large withdrawal – it could only mean one thing to Gerard – the sheer unbridled excitement of a company account fund transfer. Joy!
By nine, and three coffees later, Gerard had, surprisingly, caught up with much of his paperwork and was ready to welcome his client.
“Good morning!” The young man in his early thirties with black hair, rose to his feet and extended his hand towards the newcomer to his office. “Please, take a seat. My name’s Gerard Way, I’m the assistant manager. How can I help you?”
“Frank Iero,” came the reply as the shorter man, immaculately dressed in a black suit, with a dark blue shirt and tie took the proffered hand in a firm shake.
“How can I help you, Mister Iero?” Gerard asked as the man sat opposite him.
“I’ll be making a large withdrawal,” he explained.
“A company withdrawal?” Gerard asked, remembering that he had been unable to find Iero’s name on the database.
“No, personal,” Frank corrected.
Gerard smiled and nodded. It was his bank’s policy that single transactions sums of money over ten thousand dollars were to be dealt with by the manager or his assistant in his absence. The practice was a frequent event for companies, but for individuals was uncommon, but by no means out of the ordinary. It was possible that he had made a mistake about the man’s account and continued with the formalities.
“I’ll need account details, two sets of photo ID and proof of address, Mister Iero.”
Frank nodded with a brief smile and reached underneath the desk where his briefcase stood. As he did so, the phone rang on Way’s desk.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gerard frowned. “I’ll get my secretary to take that.”
“No need,” Iero replied quickly before looking up and flashing a smile. “You take it, it could be important and I still have to find one of the IDs.”
Way smiled with relief. It was only his second day as acting manager and already work was piling up. The problem being, of course, that while he was acting as manager, he had all his own work to do too. Normally this sort of thing wasn’t a problem, as whenever vacations had been planned, a second assistant would be available to take some of the workload. But this had been different and very much unplanned. They didn’t know much of the details, but had been told the previous day that the branch manager had been involved in a car accident and had been so severely injured that he would most likely remain in hospital for a minimum of two weeks. Gerard had remembered receiving the news with a guilty mixture of worry and irritation. Despite his concern for his manager’s obviously severe injuries, it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Of course, now because of the accident, Gerard had been forced to cancel his vacation on the very day that his brother had arrived on his doorstep. For his own sake, Mikey hadn’t minded too much. The split with his girlfriend had been a fairly amicable one and all he really wanted was to get as far from his apartment as he could while she moved out. Staying at his brother’s place may not have been what they had planned, but it was a break and that was enough for him. Reaching for the phone, Gerard hoped the day would pass quickly; he was already tired.
“Good morning,” Gerard began as cheerfully as he could muster. “How can I help you?”
There was a slight pause before the voice on the end of the phone began. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but the hesitation unnerved him.
“The man sitting opposite you,” the voice began, “has a gun trained on you beneath the desk.”
Still holding the phone to his ear, Gerard’s head turned sharply to stare at Frank Iero, who merely smiled sweetly at him in return. The voice continued:
“The gun is fitted with a silencer, if you give him any cause to use it, no one will be aware. Place your hand not holding the phone in full view on the desk and spread your fingers. After I hang up, place your other hand in a similar position next to it. Do you understand?”
“Y… yeah,” Gerard croaked as his mouth and throat instantly dried.
“Good. I’ll leave you with my friend to conclude business.”
Gerard slowly lowered the receiver onto the cradle and stared disbelievingly at the man opposite.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice barely recovered from the shock.
“We’re going to need your help getting into the bank, some keys, security codes, that sort of thing.”
“I can’t give you that,” he shook his head. “And really, you can’t force me. Okay, you have a gun on me now, but you will have to leave here at some point.”
Frank continued to smile. He had the look of a man who knew when he had his opponent over a barrel.
“The gun is merely to make you sit still and understand that we’re serious. The real incentive for you to help is here.”
Frank raised his left hand and passed a large envelope to Gerard. Hesitantly, Gerard took it and fumbled with the flap. Eventually opening the stiff card envelope, he glanced inside to see a single sheet of letter sized photo paper. Withdrawing the sheet, he gasped with a combination of horror and shock as he saw the photograph.
On it, his brother lay on a thin, grubby mattress. Clear in the photo, Mikey’s slender ankles were fastened together with a pair of handcuffs; his hands, pulled behind him, were probably secured in the same fashion. Mikey’s cheek and right eye were bruised and swollen, and, Gerard suspected there might be further injuries hidden from view. His eyes were closed and it seemed that Mikey was unconscious, making the gag, consisting of a long knotted cloth tied at the nape of his neck, seem more for dramatic purposes than of any real use.
Gerard fell into a stunned silence, simply unable to accept or even grasp the enormity of the situation. He found it impossible to do anything but to stare back in shameless bewilderment – it was exactly the reaction Frank had anticipated.
“I’m sure you’ll appreciate why your cooperation is essential now,” Frank grinned at him.
What was wrong? His job. It should have been rewarding and interesting, but it wasn’t; it wasn’t even close. Yes, he had worked hard in school and obtained a good, solid well paid job with prospects. And yes, he knew that if he hadn’t tried hard at school he would be in a low paid job with no prospects at all. He knew he should be happy but he still felt restless and bored.
The truth was, he hadn’t known what he wanted to do when he was younger. His Careers Counsellor in high school was at a loss to know what to say to him. Gerard had been a bright pupil, getting mostly straight A’s but he had no actual interest in any of his academic subjects. He felt that there was something he hadn’t contemplated yet; something that was out there, ready for him to try and make a difference. His Careers Counsellor had finally given up and told him that he was deluding himself. So much for believing in yourself! It wasn’t worth pondering. He had had no idea what to do, and had finally drifted into banking through an internship that he had taken merely because he fancied a girl who had once worked there. That was, oh, too long ago. Despite his lack of interest, he had applied himself and had again been successful. Gerard found himself being rapidly promoted and now, as assistant manager, he was temporarily in charge.
Glancing at his diary for the day, he noticed that his very first appointment was with someone whose name could not be found on bank records. He was claiming to be making a large withdrawal – it could only mean one thing to Gerard – the sheer unbridled excitement of a company account fund transfer. Joy!
By nine, and three coffees later, Gerard had, surprisingly, caught up with much of his paperwork and was ready to welcome his client.
“Good morning!” The young man in his early thirties with black hair, rose to his feet and extended his hand towards the newcomer to his office. “Please, take a seat. My name’s Gerard Way, I’m the assistant manager. How can I help you?”
“Frank Iero,” came the reply as the shorter man, immaculately dressed in a black suit, with a dark blue shirt and tie took the proffered hand in a firm shake.
“How can I help you, Mister Iero?” Gerard asked as the man sat opposite him.
“I’ll be making a large withdrawal,” he explained.
“A company withdrawal?” Gerard asked, remembering that he had been unable to find Iero’s name on the database.
“No, personal,” Frank corrected.
Gerard smiled and nodded. It was his bank’s policy that single transactions sums of money over ten thousand dollars were to be dealt with by the manager or his assistant in his absence. The practice was a frequent event for companies, but for individuals was uncommon, but by no means out of the ordinary. It was possible that he had made a mistake about the man’s account and continued with the formalities.
“I’ll need account details, two sets of photo ID and proof of address, Mister Iero.”
Frank nodded with a brief smile and reached underneath the desk where his briefcase stood. As he did so, the phone rang on Way’s desk.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gerard frowned. “I’ll get my secretary to take that.”
“No need,” Iero replied quickly before looking up and flashing a smile. “You take it, it could be important and I still have to find one of the IDs.”
Way smiled with relief. It was only his second day as acting manager and already work was piling up. The problem being, of course, that while he was acting as manager, he had all his own work to do too. Normally this sort of thing wasn’t a problem, as whenever vacations had been planned, a second assistant would be available to take some of the workload. But this had been different and very much unplanned. They didn’t know much of the details, but had been told the previous day that the branch manager had been involved in a car accident and had been so severely injured that he would most likely remain in hospital for a minimum of two weeks. Gerard had remembered receiving the news with a guilty mixture of worry and irritation. Despite his concern for his manager’s obviously severe injuries, it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Of course, now because of the accident, Gerard had been forced to cancel his vacation on the very day that his brother had arrived on his doorstep. For his own sake, Mikey hadn’t minded too much. The split with his girlfriend had been a fairly amicable one and all he really wanted was to get as far from his apartment as he could while she moved out. Staying at his brother’s place may not have been what they had planned, but it was a break and that was enough for him. Reaching for the phone, Gerard hoped the day would pass quickly; he was already tired.
“Good morning,” Gerard began as cheerfully as he could muster. “How can I help you?”
There was a slight pause before the voice on the end of the phone began. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but the hesitation unnerved him.
“The man sitting opposite you,” the voice began, “has a gun trained on you beneath the desk.”
Still holding the phone to his ear, Gerard’s head turned sharply to stare at Frank Iero, who merely smiled sweetly at him in return. The voice continued:
“The gun is fitted with a silencer, if you give him any cause to use it, no one will be aware. Place your hand not holding the phone in full view on the desk and spread your fingers. After I hang up, place your other hand in a similar position next to it. Do you understand?”
“Y… yeah,” Gerard croaked as his mouth and throat instantly dried.
“Good. I’ll leave you with my friend to conclude business.”
Gerard slowly lowered the receiver onto the cradle and stared disbelievingly at the man opposite.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice barely recovered from the shock.
“We’re going to need your help getting into the bank, some keys, security codes, that sort of thing.”
“I can’t give you that,” he shook his head. “And really, you can’t force me. Okay, you have a gun on me now, but you will have to leave here at some point.”
Frank continued to smile. He had the look of a man who knew when he had his opponent over a barrel.
“The gun is merely to make you sit still and understand that we’re serious. The real incentive for you to help is here.”
Frank raised his left hand and passed a large envelope to Gerard. Hesitantly, Gerard took it and fumbled with the flap. Eventually opening the stiff card envelope, he glanced inside to see a single sheet of letter sized photo paper. Withdrawing the sheet, he gasped with a combination of horror and shock as he saw the photograph.
On it, his brother lay on a thin, grubby mattress. Clear in the photo, Mikey’s slender ankles were fastened together with a pair of handcuffs; his hands, pulled behind him, were probably secured in the same fashion. Mikey’s cheek and right eye were bruised and swollen, and, Gerard suspected there might be further injuries hidden from view. His eyes were closed and it seemed that Mikey was unconscious, making the gag, consisting of a long knotted cloth tied at the nape of his neck, seem more for dramatic purposes than of any real use.
Gerard fell into a stunned silence, simply unable to accept or even grasp the enormity of the situation. He found it impossible to do anything but to stare back in shameless bewilderment – it was exactly the reaction Frank had anticipated.
“I’m sure you’ll appreciate why your cooperation is essential now,” Frank grinned at him.
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