FicWad

Disclaimer: If it isn't obvious. These are real people so technically none of them are mine. Ya know? I hope you enjoy.

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I hate school, but then again what kid doesn’t. I only have a small group of friends and more than half the kids here think I'm the new girl; I've been with them since second grade! It's so insane, with the cliques, the gossip, and the girls that are just plain bitches. I guess it’s just a normal high school though.

This is my senior year, my last year, granted I don't get held back. Which is looking very promising right now. It doesn't matter though, Frankie's nineteen and this is his third year as a senior.

Who's Frankie? He's a guy in the same band as my best friend Mikey. The band is My Chemical Romance, they haven't become big yet, but they are amazing good. The band’s made up of Gerard, Mikey's brother who's in his freshman year of an arts school in New York, Ray, Gerard's friend, Mikey, who's seventeen like me and is also in his senior year, among being my best friend, Bob, he's eighteen but was held back a couple of years making him a junior, and of course Frankie, who I've explained about.

"Mercy? Mercy," I heard Mikey shout to me.

"What's going on Mikey," I asked pausing for him to catch up with me.

"Nothing, you've just gotta help me more after school." Mikey's learning bass guitar for My Chemical Romance. "You know I need the practice."

"No you don't Mikey. You're perfectly good at it."

"Eh, but good isn't good enough for Gee," I rolled my eyes at this. Gerard is always perfectly happy with what Mikey does. "Don't roll your eyes at me little Missy."

"Little? Phft Mikey I'm older than you," that’s a true statement guys. Even though I don’t look like I’m older than Mikey because of my height, I am.

"So? You're still smaller than me."

"I’m only smaller than you by like seven inches," I shouted back.

"Pshyeah so? That's about how many weeks older than me you are," Mikey replied with a smug smirk.

"Gosh Mikey you're not annoying. Why should I even help you?"

"No, no! Mercy, you have to help me! Without you then I can't be in the band. They'll kick me out!"

"Man Mikes, I was only kidding. C'mon we'll be late for class," I said skipping down the hall.

The bell rung and I had learned nothing. I spent the whole time doodling and writing lyrics. Besides Frank was in this class, so it's not like I'd be able to pay attention anyhow. I raced out the door with Mikey quick on my tail.

"What has you in such a hurry," he asked when we reached our lockers.

"I wanna get a table so we don't have to sit with the ‘emos’ again," I snorted.

"I thought you liked them though," Mikey asked, he was obviously very confused.

"Eh, they're okay. It's just that I don't want to be grouped with anyone," I explained.

"Oh," Mikey sighed, as we walked into the lunch room. I squealed when we got a table on the outskirts of the room. Shortly after the second bell rung Frankie and Bob stumbled in. They grabbed their lunch and sat at our table.

"Mikes is it alright if we sit here," Bob asked politely.

"Sure, sure," Mikey stuttered off. Sometimes I just don't understand that boy, he practices with them almost every week and he still seems to be nervous around them.

"Hi Mercy."

"Hey Frank," I replied coolly. You see I have this little crush on Frank. I'm not sure why I just do, he is, after all incredibly cute.

"Come on. Everyone else calls me 'Frankie', why not you too?"

"Just never thought of it," I lied casually.

"Well you should," Frankie winked.


Frank's POV

Man, Bob and I were late for lunch today. We ran through the line grabbing whatever. Oh god, I got meat, shit, Bob'll trade that salad with me.

We pounced on the first seats we saw. We were sitting with Mikey and Mercy. Why did we sit here? After staring at Mercy all last period now I'd have to eat in front of her too? I’m sorry if that sounds strange, but I feel uncomfortable eating in front of people I don’t know incredibly well, or that I happen to have crushes on.

"Mikes, is it alright if we sit here?"

"Sure, sure," Mikey answered Bob.

Just say hi, Frankie. It's not that hard. She's not gonna think you're insane.

"Hi Mercy," I barley got out.

"Hey Frank," Mercy replied calmly.

Keep making conversation, Frank. "Come on. Everyone else calls me 'Frankie', why not you too?" I mean for goodness' sakes I even call myself Frankie.

"Just never thought of it," she answered me.

"Well you should," I winked. Yes I'm trying to flirt with the prettiest girl in school.


Mercy's POV

Giggling nervously I mumbled, "alright, Frankie."

Mikey gave me a weird look. I just shrugged. How was I supposed to know what was going on? Frank, excuse me, Frankie hasn't talked to me outside of the bands hellos, or random incidents that he happened to need a pen.

"Mike, you coming to band practice right after school," Bob asked.

Mikey grimaced and gave me a 'help me' look.

"Well actually Mikey was going to hang out with me this afternoon," I mumbled.

Bob nudged Frank and Frank turned red. I gave Mikey a questioning look, to which he shook his head.

"Er, do you wanna come watch us play, after school? So ya know you can hang with Mikey and us all," Frankie said turning about 30 different shades of red in that one minute, I didn’t even know that was possible.

I looked to Mikey, he looked away from me. "Sure." A big grin came across Frankie's face.

"Great," Just then the bell rang and Mikey and I rushed to our class.

"Mikes, what was up at lunch?"

"Nothing, Mercy, nothing," Mikey said sounding annoyed. He was always bad at hiding his emotions.

"Mikey what's wrong," I asked, actually wanting a response.

Mikey's POV

Sometimes Mercy just doesn't get things. Frank was flirting with her at lunch and she didn't realize it. She doesn't know how much Frank likes her. And she defiantly doesn't realize that I love her even more, more than a best friend, more than anything.

"Nothing is wrong. I was just hoping I'd learn more before practice tonight."

"Oh, I'm sorry Mikes. Is there any way for me to make it up to you?"'

"It doesn't matter," I said shrugging.

"Tell you what, I'm going to spend all Saturday with you."

"We have a gig that night."

"Shit, then I'm going and I'm spending all Sunday with you too!"

"It really doesn't matter, Mercy," I tried to convince her.

Mercy's POV

It doesn't matter? That's got to be the biggest load of shit I've heard. "It matters to me," I mumbled.

"Oh Mercy, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I'm sorry. I really didn't mean it."

"It's okay. If you really don't want to be around me you don't have to be," I said calmly. I didn't want to make someone be around me if they didn't want to.

"No Mercy, I want to be around you!"

"Okay, well see you after class."

"Bye," Mikey responded walking down the hall.

I walked to my seat. As I sat I immediately grabbed my lyric notebook. This is usually how I spend Italian class. Since it is like a first language to me.

"Hey Hottie."

"I'm not in the mood Char," I whispered. Charlie, or "Charcoal" as he likes to be called, is one of the ‘emos’ I'll hang out with if Mikey's not around. It's mainly because Char's my neighbor.

"Mercy, come on. Hey do you want to hang out this weekend? Or like do homework this afternoon," Charlie continued.

"Actually I've got band practice after school."

"Oh, with Way?"

"Yes, with Mikey and the rest of the band."

Charlie let out a sigh. "How about after that?"

"Char, I'm busy. Maybe like after midterm exams."

"Or maybe before, like to study."

"Charcoal," someone shout-whispered, taking Charlie's attention from being on me. Thank God. I got back to my lyrics. Mikey keeps telling me to suggest some of my lyrics to Gerard, but they're lame so I'd rather not.

The bell rang and I quickly scrambled to get my stuff. When I bent down to get my Guns N’ Roses messenger bag, I felt someone slap my ass. I jumped up and went to attack. I saw Charlie out of the corner of my eye looking at me. I stood up and glared. He looked at me and winked. Oh he is so dead.

I grabbed my bag and raced to my locker. I opened it throwing in the things I didn't need. Mikey walked up behind me scaring the shit out of me.

"Mikey," I squealed.

"Hey, can I ride with you to practice?"

"Sure, need to pick up your bass?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"You're welcome Mikey. It's no problem. So where's practice this week," I asked.

"Frankie's, his mom doesn't care if we play in their basement. I'll direct you there. I'm pretty sure that's where we'll be playing for awhile."

"Alright Mikes."

We jumped into my little old car. We sped down towards the Way's house, I knew exactly where it was and how to get there, after all I did live next door for the longest time. Stopping at the curb Mikey jumped out and sprinted to the house. A few minutes later he walked out carrying his bass and an amplifier, a rather large one actually.

"Michael James Way! I could've helped you carry something out!"

"Nah, it's okay. Besides it's all out now. So it doesn't matter," I sighed rolling my eyes. "Hey, wanna go pick up your bass? I might need help, plus you know how much they love hearing you play."

I grunted, "yeah they adore my playing, but I'll get Muerte just for you Mikey, just for you."

"Yay," Mikey cheered.

"You're such a child Mike, you know that right?"

"Only for you, my dear, only for you," Mikey mocked. We were then to my house.

"Stay here and be a good boy for Mommy while she goes and gets Muerte okay," I said with a straight face.

"Yes Mummy dearest," Mikey chanted in a horrible British accent. I locked the doors and started for the stairs. I walked through my house towards the back where my room was. I grabbed Muerte, my bass guitar, and I headed for the car again.

"Where are you going," I turn to see Jasson, my step-father, standing there. He must not of had much work today.

"I’m going to band practice. Mom'll be home soon, will you tell her where I'm at? I don't want her worrying."

"Sure thing sweetheart," Jasson said, he calls me sweetheart like he's trying to replace my real dad. He won't ever replace him.

"Thanks Jasson," I replied stumbling out the door. I then proceeded to race to my car. I set Muerte next to Mikey's bass. I then climbed in the front seat.

"What took you so long," Mikey whined like a small child.

"Jasson," I answered. Mikey nodded, he understood and didn’t push matters either. That's one of the things I love about him. "So where's Frank's place at?"