Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Not a Barbie Doll
I breathed out a sigh when I opened the door and collapsed on the couch. ‘Dumb ass’ my the voice inside my head said. I couldn’t believe I’d said the things I had. I felt like a complete asshole. After everything she’d gone through, how far she come, I had to be the one to drive her to tears with one ignorant comment.
Bob had told me Kira’s story. I felt so bad after he was finished. I’d never thought of Kira as fat or anything like that. Sure, she had some meat on her bones, but who’s to say that’s a bad thing? She’d gone through constant teasing, isolation, depression, and a suicide attempt. It surprised me to think that such a strong girl had once been so weak and vulnerable, but it was inspiring.
As I was thinking about everything I’d recently learned, I heard the door open and slam shut, then a loud, high pitched holler of the word “FRANNIE!”. I groaned. Bert. He came clunking into the living room. I ran a hand through my greasy, gelled hair. I wiped my hand on the couch as he came stumbling in.
“Hey, hey Frannie Pants, doing a little jerkin’?” He drawled, motioning to my still gel-covered hand.
“Hey Bert.” I said warily.
“What’sa matter, Oreo? You look positively down in the dumpsta” He said, popping his lips. He collapsed on the couch.
“I fucked up a bit.” I grumbled. He stuck his finger up in my face and picked the envelope of pictures up off the table. He pulled out the sheets of pictures. He looked over the pictures of Kira and I, his big, probably permanently bloodshot eyes wide with not-so-childish curiosity. The sheet of Kira and her middle finger photo slid to the floor. He leant down to pick it up off the floor.
“Oh wow.” I heard him breathe.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s uh, Kira.” I said, reaching to pulled the sheets of pictures out of his hand. He held his finger up in my face again and stood up.
“Well, well, well Frankie man, she-is-a-p-each.” He said, breaking the word into syllables.
“Hey, man…” I trailed off, standing up.
“No, dude, I get it. She’s yours.” Bert challenged me with his eyes. I knew exactly was he was doing. He wanted to hear it, and he knew he was going to get what he wanted.
“No. She’s not.” I said, my eyes narrowed. He faked surprise with his eyes.
“So, fair game?” I knew it wasn’t a question, and I didn’t know Kira well enough to know if she’d go for a guy like Bert or not.
“I don’t know, man. Girl like that’s gotta have someone.” I lied. She informed me that she wasn’t involved about a week after we’d met.
“Sure, sure.” He said, not listening to me. “So what’re you doin’ tonight Frannie?” He asked me.
“In about twenty minutes I’m going to help Bob and Kira decorate the store.” I informed him, still irritated by his very presence.
“Decorate for what?” He asked, suddenly curious.
“There’s a five year anniversary party there tonight.” I said, hoping and pleading inwardly that he wouldn’t ask anymore questions about it.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Party?” He asked. I nodded. “That an open invitation?” He asked.
“I dunno.” I shrugged. “I guess you can come.” I said.
“Alright Frannie Pants! Then you can introduce me to your little peach.” He said, standing up. He spotted a pair of scissors on the table. He picked up the sheet of Kira’s photos and quickly cut one from the bunch, pocketed it, and left. It was done in a quite stalker-ish manner. I walked into my bathroom and wiped the rest of the gel out of my hair with a towel. I changed into a plain gray shirt and jeans before grabbing my jacket and staple gun and heading out the door. I prayed all the way to the store that Kira wouldn’t hate me after what I’d done.
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Thank you anyone who's stickin' with me. I'm so sorry for lack of updates, but you can expect tons more, and LOADS of new projects.
Bob had told me Kira’s story. I felt so bad after he was finished. I’d never thought of Kira as fat or anything like that. Sure, she had some meat on her bones, but who’s to say that’s a bad thing? She’d gone through constant teasing, isolation, depression, and a suicide attempt. It surprised me to think that such a strong girl had once been so weak and vulnerable, but it was inspiring.
As I was thinking about everything I’d recently learned, I heard the door open and slam shut, then a loud, high pitched holler of the word “FRANNIE!”. I groaned. Bert. He came clunking into the living room. I ran a hand through my greasy, gelled hair. I wiped my hand on the couch as he came stumbling in.
“Hey, hey Frannie Pants, doing a little jerkin’?” He drawled, motioning to my still gel-covered hand.
“Hey Bert.” I said warily.
“What’sa matter, Oreo? You look positively down in the dumpsta” He said, popping his lips. He collapsed on the couch.
“I fucked up a bit.” I grumbled. He stuck his finger up in my face and picked the envelope of pictures up off the table. He pulled out the sheets of pictures. He looked over the pictures of Kira and I, his big, probably permanently bloodshot eyes wide with not-so-childish curiosity. The sheet of Kira and her middle finger photo slid to the floor. He leant down to pick it up off the floor.
“Oh wow.” I heard him breathe.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s uh, Kira.” I said, reaching to pulled the sheets of pictures out of his hand. He held his finger up in my face again and stood up.
“Well, well, well Frankie man, she-is-a-p-each.” He said, breaking the word into syllables.
“Hey, man…” I trailed off, standing up.
“No, dude, I get it. She’s yours.” Bert challenged me with his eyes. I knew exactly was he was doing. He wanted to hear it, and he knew he was going to get what he wanted.
“No. She’s not.” I said, my eyes narrowed. He faked surprise with his eyes.
“So, fair game?” I knew it wasn’t a question, and I didn’t know Kira well enough to know if she’d go for a guy like Bert or not.
“I don’t know, man. Girl like that’s gotta have someone.” I lied. She informed me that she wasn’t involved about a week after we’d met.
“Sure, sure.” He said, not listening to me. “So what’re you doin’ tonight Frannie?” He asked me.
“In about twenty minutes I’m going to help Bob and Kira decorate the store.” I informed him, still irritated by his very presence.
“Decorate for what?” He asked, suddenly curious.
“There’s a five year anniversary party there tonight.” I said, hoping and pleading inwardly that he wouldn’t ask anymore questions about it.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Party?” He asked. I nodded. “That an open invitation?” He asked.
“I dunno.” I shrugged. “I guess you can come.” I said.
“Alright Frannie Pants! Then you can introduce me to your little peach.” He said, standing up. He spotted a pair of scissors on the table. He picked up the sheet of Kira’s photos and quickly cut one from the bunch, pocketed it, and left. It was done in a quite stalker-ish manner. I walked into my bathroom and wiped the rest of the gel out of my hair with a towel. I changed into a plain gray shirt and jeans before grabbing my jacket and staple gun and heading out the door. I prayed all the way to the store that Kira wouldn’t hate me after what I’d done.
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Thank you anyone who's stickin' with me. I'm so sorry for lack of updates, but you can expect tons more, and LOADS of new projects.
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