Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Don't Tell Me I'm an Angel
Heyyy, everybody. Sorry this took so long. I only have access to a computer for like a day every year, and apparently today is my day. Also, I apologize in advance for any horrible errors, but this site eff's everything up. And by the way- I SAID WAYY- you're gonna come across some weirrrrrd names in this chapter. They're pronounced how they're spelled and full explanations will be given eventually. They're based on my best friends and me. [Trexx=TrekkieMonster, the WHORE WHO RATED MY LAST CHAPTER "HOT" AND MADE PEOPLE THINK THEY WERE GONNA READ LEMONY FRERARD AMAZINGNESS AND INSTEAD FOUND GERARD WAY BEING SMASHED AGAINST A WALL.] And though I really am Albi, I'm not as beautiful as I claim to be in this chapter...hehehe. I just want Frank Iero to think I am. Because, really, who doesn't?
Chapter 2: We All Get Together When We Smash Into Our Friends
AlbiPOV
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Gerard was supposed to be over like forever ago, and he still hadn't arrived at my place. He'd only been this late one time, and that was the first and only time Zander The Wicked Bitch Of The North Side of Town and his band of evil Flying Junkies beat up- or, I regret to say, beat the living hell out of- Gerard. Gerard, my very best friend in the world. Gerard, the absolute sweetest and best human being I'd ever encountered in all my seventeen-and-a-half years. Gerard, my beloved victim.
Hurrying down the halls of my high school and seeing all the big menacing druggie kids who hung here after hours it became apparent that a girl my age- and height- should never, ever wander this area alone. But I was desperate- that, and all my friends were busy today. Even Mikey- Gerard's own little brother- was too preoccupied to realize that Gee wasn't home. [This wasn't his fault- Mikey was over at his best friend Trexx's house and they were studying for a majorly huge Biology test they were both probably going to fail.] So it was up to me, the heroic Super Best Friend, to rescue him.
...It took me this long to realize that I still haven't introduced myself...I should probably get on that. I'm Albi Stroner, high school senior and official BFF of Gerard Way. I stand at exactly five foot three [which is wrong on so many levels for a girl of my age], I reside in Belleville, New Jersey, and I suffer from an unhealthy obsession with the band Bring Me the Horizon. There- that's about all there is to say. I'm not a particularly fascinating kid.
Anyway, this would probably be a good time to tell you that Gerard's art class [which let out ninety-eight minutes ago] ended at 3:00 and he was supposed to be at my house around that time. After about fourty minutes I called around, but nobody had seen him. So I drove my dad's Jeep Patriot [it really is a fabulistic car] down here to my rundown hell-hole school to search for him. If I don't find Gerard here then there's only one other place he'd be and if that's the case I'm going to have to hang myself.
No joke.
So here I am, hurrying down the halls, trying to find my best friend, freaking out of my-
And now I'm falling to the ground...this is gonna hurt.
FrankPOV
Well, this doesn't look particularly promising.
The name's Iero. Frank Iero.
I am so sorry you had to hear that. I've just always wanted to say that.
Anyway, though, the name really is Frank Iero, and I just moved to Belleville from Summit, New Jersey, for reasons which will remain undisclosed.
I probably should stop that. I'm not James Bond and I'm never going to be. The reason my mother took me out of there was very, very simple: gay kids in Catholic schools die. It is literally that simple. My teachers called me "faggot". The kids called me "dead meat". And my friends-
Well, actually, I didn't have any friends. But you get the picture.
So yeah. I got beat up all the time and all my homophobic teachers failed me- no matter how good I was in the class- simply because they were homophobic. So my mother, who had nobody else since my dad left and my brother left for college, didn't want her "precious baby suffering anymore" [Her words. DEFINITELY not mine.], she pulled me out and moved to Belleville. I'm hoping to find SOMEBODY here who doesn't completely hate me.
So here I am, alone, one little guy- really little; try five-effing-four- in a huge, unfamiliar, extremely menacing high school. I was called a week ago from some old-sounding lady at what I assumed was some office- because the people who make those sorta calls always work in some sorta office- who informed me in a pinched voice "Frank Iero? On Monday, November 24th, come to the school at about 4:00 for a private tour". Well, I got there at 4:00 and nobody seemed to be expecting me and my mother can't come pick me up till 5:30- SHUT UP. I don't have a car-, so I'm all alone. And, to be perfectly honest, kinda scared.
/Bzzz/.../Bzzz/.../Bz/-
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to read the text message [which was probably from my mother- how sad is that?].
From: Mom
hi, honey. im going 2 get u a bit late, im so sorry. could u please ask somebody if they can wait with u? love u!
Okay. First, I'M NOT SIX. Did that message seem more than a little bit condescending to you? I'm deeply insulted by that. Second, she's gonna be LATE? No, mother, there is nobody here who wants to babysit your eighteen-year-old son until his mommy who can pick him up. And third, I'm a little disturbed by the fact that my mother typed in text lingo. I dunno, I always felt like people who are so...developed in years like my mother should type like...I don't know. Proper. All people "above a certain age" should.
I was so deeply involved in my disturbing text that I didn't realize until a second too late that I'd smashed into somebody.
"Oww!!" the girl exclaimed in a reasonably low voice- well, low for a girl- as she hit the ground.
"Oh, crap!" I whispered as I jumped up to help her. "I am so sorry!"
Looking slightly disoriented, the girl took the hand I'd extended to her and replied, "It's okay. And thanks." Pulling her up, I got a good look at her. She was DEFINITELY not your average teenaged girl, as I could tell simply by seeing her. She was beautiful, with big hazel eyes accented by heavy black eyeliner inside her lids and pale skin lightly dusted with freckles. Her hair, messy in an emo way and not a disheveled way, covered one of her eyes and had lavender and baby blue highlights. Her outfit, the likes of which I'd never before seen, consisted of lavendar skinny jeans, a baby blue t-shirt which said "Bring Me the Horizon" [which I assumed was a band] in violent-looking letters, a pink and black zebra striped hoodie that would say "Cobra Starship" if zipped up, a black studded belt decorated with neon splatters, black high-tops, and a top hat. It was probably sort of funny- in an ironic, paradox-y way- to see the two of of us standing together, her wearing so many bright colors she'd probably induce seizures if she moved too fast, and me, in a black Misfits hoodie, black skinny jeans, black fingerless skeleton gloves, and black Vans.
"I'm Albi," she introduced herself. Then, with a questioning look, she added, "I don't think I've seen you around here before."
"Um, no. I'm new," I informed her. "I'm Frank."
Grinning, Albi extended her hand for me to shake. "Nice to meet you, Frank."
I smiled and returned the compliment.
Without warning, Albi looked as though she'd just remembered something terrible and squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh jeez. Gerard. Um." Albi turned to look at me, and I realized that she was at least an inch shorter than me. Finally! Somebody! "Okay. Frank, I'm so sorry, but I really need to find somebody. Like, something awful may have just happened to him."
"Oh my God," I responded. "Okay. Um, you need some help?"
Albi looked colossaly relieved. "That'd be great," she breathed in gratitude. "Thank you so much."
As we took off, I could tell we were going to be good friends.
Okay. Sorry if that was disgustingly long, but with this editor I can't tell how long each chapter is. As in, I thought my last chapter was long. But then I looked at it and I was like, "Damn. I NEED to make these longer." So I attempted. Also, nobody fear, all with Gerard will be resolved in the next chapter...well, sorta. I'm not sure. And your Frerard steaminess is definitely on its way =D And I am terribly sorry if, in the middle of the chapter, at any point, the entire chapter is typed again. Every time I hit "return" on this damn Mac, my ENTIRE chapter is pasted in. I hope that makes sense...it's sorta hard to explain. If you see it, though, you'll know what I mean. And hehehe, I'm still not that beautiful. It's just that Frank Iero thinking I am is like my lifelong dream. ...Actually, screw that. My lifelong dream is to MEET the guy. If he called me beautiful I'd kill myself so I could die happy. =D Anyway, that's it. Hope you enjoyed. And reviews are lovee. And you get cookies if you give me good ratings, but my band of evil talking mushrooms will catapult you with mutated Jell-o if you rate badly. So pleasieplease be nice. =DD Thanks. Love you guys. Xs and CheeriOs, Albi
Chapter 2: We All Get Together When We Smash Into Our Friends
AlbiPOV
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Gerard was supposed to be over like forever ago, and he still hadn't arrived at my place. He'd only been this late one time, and that was the first and only time Zander The Wicked Bitch Of The North Side of Town and his band of evil Flying Junkies beat up- or, I regret to say, beat the living hell out of- Gerard. Gerard, my very best friend in the world. Gerard, the absolute sweetest and best human being I'd ever encountered in all my seventeen-and-a-half years. Gerard, my beloved victim.
Hurrying down the halls of my high school and seeing all the big menacing druggie kids who hung here after hours it became apparent that a girl my age- and height- should never, ever wander this area alone. But I was desperate- that, and all my friends were busy today. Even Mikey- Gerard's own little brother- was too preoccupied to realize that Gee wasn't home. [This wasn't his fault- Mikey was over at his best friend Trexx's house and they were studying for a majorly huge Biology test they were both probably going to fail.] So it was up to me, the heroic Super Best Friend, to rescue him.
...It took me this long to realize that I still haven't introduced myself...I should probably get on that. I'm Albi Stroner, high school senior and official BFF of Gerard Way. I stand at exactly five foot three [which is wrong on so many levels for a girl of my age], I reside in Belleville, New Jersey, and I suffer from an unhealthy obsession with the band Bring Me the Horizon. There- that's about all there is to say. I'm not a particularly fascinating kid.
Anyway, this would probably be a good time to tell you that Gerard's art class [which let out ninety-eight minutes ago] ended at 3:00 and he was supposed to be at my house around that time. After about fourty minutes I called around, but nobody had seen him. So I drove my dad's Jeep Patriot [it really is a fabulistic car] down here to my rundown hell-hole school to search for him. If I don't find Gerard here then there's only one other place he'd be and if that's the case I'm going to have to hang myself.
No joke.
So here I am, hurrying down the halls, trying to find my best friend, freaking out of my-
And now I'm falling to the ground...this is gonna hurt.
FrankPOV
Well, this doesn't look particularly promising.
The name's Iero. Frank Iero.
I am so sorry you had to hear that. I've just always wanted to say that.
Anyway, though, the name really is Frank Iero, and I just moved to Belleville from Summit, New Jersey, for reasons which will remain undisclosed.
I probably should stop that. I'm not James Bond and I'm never going to be. The reason my mother took me out of there was very, very simple: gay kids in Catholic schools die. It is literally that simple. My teachers called me "faggot". The kids called me "dead meat". And my friends-
Well, actually, I didn't have any friends. But you get the picture.
So yeah. I got beat up all the time and all my homophobic teachers failed me- no matter how good I was in the class- simply because they were homophobic. So my mother, who had nobody else since my dad left and my brother left for college, didn't want her "precious baby suffering anymore" [Her words. DEFINITELY not mine.], she pulled me out and moved to Belleville. I'm hoping to find SOMEBODY here who doesn't completely hate me.
So here I am, alone, one little guy- really little; try five-effing-four- in a huge, unfamiliar, extremely menacing high school. I was called a week ago from some old-sounding lady at what I assumed was some office- because the people who make those sorta calls always work in some sorta office- who informed me in a pinched voice "Frank Iero? On Monday, November 24th, come to the school at about 4:00 for a private tour". Well, I got there at 4:00 and nobody seemed to be expecting me and my mother can't come pick me up till 5:30- SHUT UP. I don't have a car-, so I'm all alone. And, to be perfectly honest, kinda scared.
/Bzzz/.../Bzzz/.../Bz/-
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to read the text message [which was probably from my mother- how sad is that?].
From: Mom
hi, honey. im going 2 get u a bit late, im so sorry. could u please ask somebody if they can wait with u? love u!
Okay. First, I'M NOT SIX. Did that message seem more than a little bit condescending to you? I'm deeply insulted by that. Second, she's gonna be LATE? No, mother, there is nobody here who wants to babysit your eighteen-year-old son until his mommy who can pick him up. And third, I'm a little disturbed by the fact that my mother typed in text lingo. I dunno, I always felt like people who are so...developed in years like my mother should type like...I don't know. Proper. All people "above a certain age" should.
I was so deeply involved in my disturbing text that I didn't realize until a second too late that I'd smashed into somebody.
"Oww!!" the girl exclaimed in a reasonably low voice- well, low for a girl- as she hit the ground.
"Oh, crap!" I whispered as I jumped up to help her. "I am so sorry!"
Looking slightly disoriented, the girl took the hand I'd extended to her and replied, "It's okay. And thanks." Pulling her up, I got a good look at her. She was DEFINITELY not your average teenaged girl, as I could tell simply by seeing her. She was beautiful, with big hazel eyes accented by heavy black eyeliner inside her lids and pale skin lightly dusted with freckles. Her hair, messy in an emo way and not a disheveled way, covered one of her eyes and had lavender and baby blue highlights. Her outfit, the likes of which I'd never before seen, consisted of lavendar skinny jeans, a baby blue t-shirt which said "Bring Me the Horizon" [which I assumed was a band] in violent-looking letters, a pink and black zebra striped hoodie that would say "Cobra Starship" if zipped up, a black studded belt decorated with neon splatters, black high-tops, and a top hat. It was probably sort of funny- in an ironic, paradox-y way- to see the two of of us standing together, her wearing so many bright colors she'd probably induce seizures if she moved too fast, and me, in a black Misfits hoodie, black skinny jeans, black fingerless skeleton gloves, and black Vans.
"I'm Albi," she introduced herself. Then, with a questioning look, she added, "I don't think I've seen you around here before."
"Um, no. I'm new," I informed her. "I'm Frank."
Grinning, Albi extended her hand for me to shake. "Nice to meet you, Frank."
I smiled and returned the compliment.
Without warning, Albi looked as though she'd just remembered something terrible and squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh jeez. Gerard. Um." Albi turned to look at me, and I realized that she was at least an inch shorter than me. Finally! Somebody! "Okay. Frank, I'm so sorry, but I really need to find somebody. Like, something awful may have just happened to him."
"Oh my God," I responded. "Okay. Um, you need some help?"
Albi looked colossaly relieved. "That'd be great," she breathed in gratitude. "Thank you so much."
As we took off, I could tell we were going to be good friends.
Okay. Sorry if that was disgustingly long, but with this editor I can't tell how long each chapter is. As in, I thought my last chapter was long. But then I looked at it and I was like, "Damn. I NEED to make these longer." So I attempted. Also, nobody fear, all with Gerard will be resolved in the next chapter...well, sorta. I'm not sure. And your Frerard steaminess is definitely on its way =D And I am terribly sorry if, in the middle of the chapter, at any point, the entire chapter is typed again. Every time I hit "return" on this damn Mac, my ENTIRE chapter is pasted in. I hope that makes sense...it's sorta hard to explain. If you see it, though, you'll know what I mean. And hehehe, I'm still not that beautiful. It's just that Frank Iero thinking I am is like my lifelong dream. ...Actually, screw that. My lifelong dream is to MEET the guy. If he called me beautiful I'd kill myself so I could die happy. =D Anyway, that's it. Hope you enjoyed. And reviews are lovee. And you get cookies if you give me good ratings, but my band of evil talking mushrooms will catapult you with mutated Jell-o if you rate badly. So pleasieplease be nice. =DD Thanks. Love you guys. Xs and CheeriOs, Albi
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