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Frank’s POV


My skin was ice cold, I could feel that harsh Jersey wind through my threadbare t-shirt, like usual. I looked around at the streets, the buildings, and the cars zooming past me, making the air even bitterer. It was like someone was punishing me for a crime I didn’t commit. “Fuck…” I mumbled, shivering and rubbing the skin of my arms with my calloused hands. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, trying to stop myself from shaking, but it did nothing. If anything, I felt worse. I continued to trudge down the street, hoping to find some kind of shelter at least until the wind died down. I hated this life. Sure, at least I was still able to go to school, but getting stares from the most well dressed kids was brutal. They’d stare at me and pierce holes into me, breaking me some more.

All of my long hair flew into my face messily, partially obstructing my vision. I knew the youth center was around here somewhere, I’d been there enough times, but this weather was making it so hard to even take another step on the concrete beneath me. I sighed, pushing my hair back and continuing on. I didn’t want to die out here; that was probably my worst fear. I didn’t want to be another person who would just die from starvation or the cold in the back of some alley. I had this gut feeling that someone out there loved me, but they just had a weird way of showing it.

The streets were filled with people, mainly because they had nowhere else to go. Most of them used to have homes, but they’d told me their stories and how awful it was to live there. Some were diseased, some ignored or some even just unwanted. It made me think about so many things differently and even scared me to some extent. They were good people, just misunderstood. They sat on the sidewalks, some guys playing guitar, which was quite good. I figured some were broke musicians, who still had their own dreams. This helped me take my mind off the bitterness of the weather.

Well, that was until I came to the street that was probably the worst out of all. It smelled strongly of pot. My lungs burned at my head felt light, but it was normal walking down this place. There were alleys with two or three people, laughing like maniacs and talking, smoking weed all the while. They offered me some, but I refused. I didn’t want to get into this stuff. I needed to live still. The people who injected themselves were also there, broken needles lining the street. I shuddered at the thought of injecting yourself with shit like that. I never understood who people could get so much pleasure out of drugs, and I wasn’t about to find out.

I frowned when I saw the familiar strip club with the half blacked out sign, “Girls, girls, girls.” Sleazy looking figures hung around there, and I looked down at my feet, trying to avoid their stares. There were used condoms and wrappers in places, and that was just something I didn’t need to see. I promised myself I’d never sell myself for sex and become a cheap whore, no. That was only for the most desperate people. Sometimes passing by I’d hear the shrill screams of people, in pain or pleasure; it made the hairs on the arms stand on end. It sounded so awful, like they were being murdered. Some were.

After what felt like hours of walking, I found the place. I knocked on the door, and a volunteer let me in. I was so grateful for that. It was warm as I felt my face sting from the sudden change and skin start to tingle. Pink flooded to my cheeks as I took a seat on one of the couches, waiting for someone to get me a place to sleep and eat. It wasn’t a big place, but there was space and a lot of friendly faces. I’d always have someone to talk to, no matter what.

“Frankie, honey you can go to the back with the other kids. We’ll serve some food in a bit.” They all knew my name here, I felt like family. Well, this was the closest thing I would ever get to a real one anyways. No one had ever actually told me the words, “I love you” in my life. I never heard it, and probably wasn’t going to. I never knew what happened to my parents really. They just kind of left me. The only thing I remember was being in an orphanage until I was about ten years old, then I was kicked out because I was getting too old. I never liked it there anyways. Everyone was mean and uptight; they never really cared for us. I didn’t even make any friends there; everyone was like a zombie.

“Thanks.” I mumbled and smiled at her, making my way to the back of the center. I passed by the counseling office where I should probably go to later just so I can get some things off my mind. My backpack felt heavier than most days, and of course, I had some homework to attend to. Familiar faces started to show up, waving to me and saying hi. I always made it a point to smile back at them and greet them because of their kindness. I dropped my bag on top of a big wooden table in the back corner of the room and sat in a plastic foldaway chair.

Emptying my stuff, I saw a Math binder, Science textbook and English papers hit the table. Pens, pencils and erasers rolled out, and out came my ratty old wallet. Inside contained my ID (not that I ever needed it), some change and my life’s savings, three hundred dollars. It’s not a lot, I know that, but it’s just enough to get by sometimes. I’d done odd jobs for people like pushing their car in the snow and putting a letter in a mailbox, and in turn they’d give me a little something to live on.

“Hi Frankie,” a female voice came from behind me. It was Katrina, one of the older teen volunteers. She always had a wonderful smile, red choppy hair and icy blue eyes. “How’re you?”

“I’m okay…” I replied. I didn’t have much else to say and wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“Homework I see,” she smiled.

“Yeah, and I left my jacket at school.” I added so that this conversation might go somewhere.

“That sucks. You can check our lost and found bin for something for the night if you get cold though,” she offered and I kindly accepted, going over to the giant red bin. There was pink stuff, yellow stuff and blue stuff, but I wanted something not too flashy. I found a black hoodie with “The Misfits” printed on the front. I loved it instantly because I’d seen their show over the summer. It was a little bit too big for me, but mainly because it was a size “small.” I wasn’t surprised I couldn’t fit into a small yet. I was skin and bones. I barely had anything to eat everyday, let alone enough sleep or extra treats like candy and chips. Going back to the desk in my new hoodie, I shoved everything in again and went over to the servery. It smelled strongly of pasta in soup, which I loved. I tried to avoid meats usually because they made me sick, but I never considered myself a vegetarian. It was because of those times when I was too weak to care what I was putting into my mouth, as long as it was food it was okay with me.

“You can join the others in the cafeteria honey, we’re almost done,” one of the cooks told me and I nodded, going to sit in an empty spot at a table full of kids. They were all chattering amongst themselves and were friendly to me as well. They served us the soup promptly, and I took my time. The soup felt hot and delicious running down my throat, helping to warm my entire body. Most of the other people were done when I was taking my last few gulps, but I didn’t really care. I picked up my tray and passed it over a counter, thanking them profusely. They would never know how much these kinds of things meant to me. The counseling center was my next stop, since I wasn’t feeling the best about life. It was weird how open I could be around them, since I was a pretty quiet person.

“Hello? Anyone here?” I called and someone came out the door. He was young, probably in his early twenties, grinning with perfectly straight and white teeth at me. He invited me into the room and I basically started ranting. “I hate limos.” It was kind of random, but I did. “And nice cars like a Benz and BMWs.”

“And why is that exactly?” he asked.

“Because of their tinted windows so you never know who’s in them. It’s just frustrating because it’s like they’re trying to hide something. I mean, what’s there to hide? Most people in them are rich or famous and usually pretty hot. I wouldn’t want to hide myself if I were good looking…”

“Frank, you’re too hard on yourself. You look fine.”

“But still. I mean, I don’t know,” I sighed in defeat.

“Are you sure this isn’t leading towards jealousy? You’ve got to remember, not all rich people are happy. Sometimes they’re miserable because of their riches and good looks and everything else that comes with that life. I know you think your life isn’t the fairest, but you’ve gotta look on the bright side once in a while. You’re luckier than a lot of people I know.” He tried to lighten my mood but it wasn’t working all too well.

“Thanks dude, it feels good to talk to someone.” I told him and left, wanting to work on some homework. If I didn’t pass school, I knew I wouldn’t be going anywhere in life. At least with an education there were some possibilities, even if I couldn’t afford college, let alone university. I sat and started to write my English report on this murder in the newspaper. I had to speculate whether the cops were hiding things from the public or not. It was really quite interesting. I liked English and current events, as well as History. They helped to clear my head. Even though it was the second day of school, I was a sophomore now, and well, it’s not like we didn’t know our way around. The teachers knew us mostly and they’d be brutal with the homework. I was one of the few kids that didn’t really mind it though.

After a couple hours, I wanted to get some sleep. I didn’t get much of it lately anyways, but I might as well try. I put my backpack under the sheets at the edge of the bed and kicked off my shoes, putting them under the cot. I pulled up my hood and put my head on the rather flat pillow, trying to not be distracted by the snores of others. Eventually, I felt myself fall asleep, with no dreams. It was too hard with them, because I knew they’d never come true. This was yet another restless night’s sleep.

~~~~~

Gerard's POV

I neatly knotted the tie and tightened it accordingly, folding the collar of my white shirt over it. I pulled the knitted blue vest on over, making sure the tie hung straight down and was pressed firm to my body. My tan slacks fit my body perfectly and my shoes shone with freshness since I had just bought them. I slid my gold watch on my wrist then took the brush through my rather long jet black hair. It was past regulation length but it's the one thing I refused to oblige by. My hair would be exactly how I wanted it. That's the one thing I can't stand; talk about my hair. It's long; so what. It's on my head so it's my business, not anyone else's.

It was the first day of school and I finally managed to up then into my uniform. Mikey had been up for about an hour so far, excited about the first day. He was a junior this year which meant he was past the line of bullying. Juniors and seniors beat on the sophomores and freshmen. He was a junior, I was a senior. I mean, no one ever harmed Mikey because they knew I would track them down. Anyone who laid a finger on Mikey would lose their hand and anyone who spoke to him in the wrong way would have difficulties seeing out an eye or both for a little while.

"Gee!" Mikey called excitedly from outside my room. "Are you up yet?"

"Yeah Mikes." I called back to him, examining my hair one last time. It was straight and hanging down limply. The long black strands only made me seem paler than I am but I didn't care because my hair looked perfect. "I'm just getting dressed."

"More like checking your hair." Mikey said with amusement as he opened the door. He was already dressed and had his backpack hanging on his shoulder. "It looks good today."

"You really think so?" I asked, tilting my head to the side a little as I examined it one last time. Mikey laughed and rolled his eyes. "Hey, my hair is very important." I said with amused seriousness as I set the brush down and turned to face him rather than look at him through the mirror in my room.

"Whatever." Mikey said, bouncing a little. "Come on, school starts soon."

"If you don't want to wait, you can take the bus." I told Mikey with a smile and he gave me a disgusted look. "Then you can wait for me to be ready."

"Well you should know by now you spend forever on your hair. Get up earlier." Mikey told me with frustration. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah." I said with slight laughter. "I have to grab my backpack and credit card." I told him, pushing my hair behind my ears but deciding it looked bad when I saw my reflection so I undid it. Mikey sighed and left my room to go wait by the door. I drove him to school each day because the bus was loud and in my opinion dirty.

Finally deciding that I was as good as I was going to look, I headed to my book shelf and slid my credit card out of its secret hiding place then stuck it into my pocket. I would have to go to the bank after school to get some money out. I went to my desk and pulled my backpack off the chair, checking it quickly to make sure all my supplies were in it, then threw it over my shoulder and headed out of my room.

Mikey was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and foot tapping in annoyance as he waited for me. "You have lunch money?" I asked him.

"Yeah, mum and dad left us some before they left the other day." Mikey told me in a hurried tone. I have no idea why he liked to get to school so early. He's like the ideal child; good looks, good grades, no drugs, no alcohol, no back talk, no disobedience, no sex; not even a girlfriend. Mikey says he's more focused on grades then girls but I have a feeling that will change this year. Still, I don't think he'll go past first base or something when he does date. Not until he's married at least. He's Mr. Goody-two-shoes. But I love him nonetheless. He still manages to be the best brother and best friend ever.

"Of course they did." I said with a heavy sigh and sarcasm. My parents were rarely ever home. They didn't give a fuck about us. Since we are slightly wealthy, they are constantly traveling; stopping home for maybe two or three days a month. Each month money gets put into mine as well as Mikey's bank accounts so we can buy food and do whatever we want basically. They pay bills and we take care of ourselves. My grandmother isn't far away if we need anything anyway.

"At least they provide for us." Mikey said. He wasn't as concerned about what my parents did as I was. I'm three years older than him; when I was thirteen they started leaving us alone. Before that it was always with my grandmother if they wanted to travel. I think they're on a cruise now. Mikey's always been used to it. But before Mikey, and up to roughly Mikey's forth birthday, they actually spent their time with us. Now it's just a quick call, letter, and money. When they're home it's just so they can pack to take a new trip, see how much we've grown, see if we need anything, and then say good-bye.

"They provide us with money. A little love would be nice sometimes too." I half mumbled, grabbing my car keys. "You have all your books and supplies? Cellphone?" I asked Mikey who moaned.

"Yes mother." He said sarcastically to him. I didn't care. I had to make sure he was taken care of; I've always had to. Like I said, my parents would leave us alone. I'm almost 3 years older than him. I've always watched out for him. "You have your drugs?" Mikey asked me bitterly.

"Don't worry about that." I told him a little harshly. "Now come on." I said, walking towards the door. Mikey pushed off the wall and yanked the door open, walking to my car while I followed him; pulling the door and making sure it was locked tightly. This is Jersey; have to be as careful as possible. Even if we do live in the better half of town; the slums sometimes creep up. Since we have money, we have valuable assets. We're prime targets for theft. There's watches run by the rich community but in my opinion, you can never be too careful. Especially when you have a bunch of rare, mint condition comic books like I do. They're my life and I intend to guard them as such.

"Will you take me to the mall later?" Mikey asked as I unlocked the doors to my car. Another thing my parents gave me. They try to buy our love. If only they would learn I would like to have them around a little more. Sure the gifts and money are nice because I can do whatever I want, but I miss them too.

"Not today." I told Mikey as I got into the driver's seat. He fell into the passengers and frowned. "I have plans today." I said as I stuck the key in the ignition and commanded the vehicle to life. "Buckle up."

"I'm getting there!" Mikey snapped at me. It doesn't even faze me anymore. We go through this almost every day. He gets annoyed at me when I make sure he has everything but I don't care. I have to make sure he's safe and prepared. Just like should he ever decide to have sex, I'll give him advice and whatever else he may need such as condoms. Yes, I have them. Plenty. I'm a bit of a whore. "Will you be home for dinner?" Mikey asked me as I pulled out of the driveway and headed down the hill out of 'richville' as most people call it to go to school. Mikey felt the way about me as I did our parents. He doesn't like when I'm not around for long periods of time. Even when I'm getting high or I'm drunk; just as long as I'm in the same building with him he's fine.

"Yeah I should be." I told Mikey as I pulled onto the main road. He smiled a little and turned on the radio, playing with the stations until he found something he liked. "Queen of the gays." I said with amusement.

"What?" Mikey asked with confusion.

"Cher." I told Mikey. He happened to find a song by her on the radio. "She's like the goddess for gay guys."

"You don't like her." Mikey said with a teasing smile.

"I'm not gay." I said with a sarcastic smile. We did this often. I'd call him gay since he doesn't date and he'd call me gay for worrying so much about my appearance. It was a thing of pure brotherly love. We didn't mean anything by it and we didn't do it to make fun of homosexuals. I could care less what someone's sexual preference was; as long as it made them happy that's all that mattered. "Gonna date this year?"

"Maybe." Mikey said with a small shrug. "I'm more concerned-"

"With your grades." I finished his sentence then laughed. Mikey smiled and playfully smacked me. "What about that Alicia girl? You hang out with her a lot."

"Alicia is my friend." Mikey said. "Dating friends is weird."

"How would you know?" I asked him with a raised eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it a moment later. "That's what I thought." We reached the school so I pulled into the student parking lot then into my new parking space. I was a senior so I got first pick; and since I basically have this school under my control, I got the spot closest to the doors. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Nah I'll have one of my friends bring me. Just promise you'll be home for dinner?" Mikey asked a little pleadingly as he opened his door.

"I promise Mikes." I said with a smile. "Have fun." I called after him as he jumped out and slammed the door, heading off to find his friends. I pulled the visor down and checked my hair over in the mirror one last time. It wasn't as great as I would have liked but it would have to do. I pulled the key out of the ignition and got out of the car, sliding it into my pocket. No sooner did I have the door shut did Bob, my best friend, jump on the trunk. "Scratch it and you pay Bryar." I warned him.

"Yeah yeah." Bob said with a smile, falling down to sit on it; his feet dangling over the edge. "Going shopping later?" I pulled my credit card out and waved it with a grin, sliding it back into my pocket a moment later. "Yay." Bob said with fake child like amusement.

"You're just my friend for the drugs." I said as I walked towards him.

"Of course." Bob replied, sticking his hands behind him to prop himself up. "We actually made it to senior year."

"We do attend class." I told Bob, pushing him slightly. "Get your ass off my car." Bob shook his head and played with his lip ring. We weren't supposed to have piercings or tattoos but Bob didn't give a fuck what the school codes were. I'm amazed he even wore the uniform. "You can get your own weed then." I said with a smirk and Bob's jaw dropped a little.

"That's mean." He said, pretending to be hurt.

"Remove your ass from my car then." Bob sighed and slid off. We started walking towards the doors. "Before or after homeroom?" I asked, pulling the small baggy out of my pocket and handing it to Bob. He looked it over, examining how much it held; playing with his lip ring still. He did that whenever he was thinking about something.

"After." Bob said, slipping it into his pocket now. "I have a free period after homeroom to help me come down a little."

"Same." I replied with a grin. I opened the door and we both went inside the large building. Charleston Academy for Boys and Girls; the most prestigious school around. I really don't think there's much difference from our school than public school. I mean ours you just have to wear a uniform, you get better school food, the curriculum is a bit harder, and you pay a shit load of money. The advantage of our school over public school is with Charleston on your application to college, you basically can get into wherever you want.

I headed off to my locker and neatly pulled my books out of my bag, lining them up according to my schedule in my locker. Bob's locker was next to mine, just as organized. We may be druggies but we attend class, do homework, and still get good grades. Might as well enjoy ourselves since we do just as good as people who spend all their time studying. "Meet me by the statue." I told Bob as we parted our separate ways.

"See you later Gee." Bob said with a smile and a short wave as he headed off to his first period class. Mine was math; my worst subject. But I had my little green friend to look forward to so I knew I was going to be fine. I sat in a seat and waited as the other students started to walk in. A tall girl with red hair walked in and sat next to me, smiling.

"You're new here." I said with a smile. Like I said, I'm a whore. I flirt with a lot of girls. I don't think I've ever had an actual girlfriend though. Something about the idea just bothers me. I don't want to 'go steady' with a girl. She smiled brightly back to me and nodded, pulling out her supplies.

"Yeah, I am. Are you the official greeter?" She asked in a sweet voice.

"You could say that." I replied, pulling out my notebook and pencil though I doubted we would have notes first day. "It's my job to make sure new students know their way around."

"Well I'm very lost." She said. She was flirting back with me. "You smell like pot." I just shrugged. Most people knew I smoked it. I was friends with Bert McCracken; when he was alive. No one really cared anymore though. "Wanna share?"

"With you?" I asked and she nodded. "Sorry babe but my weed's for people I care about." She glared at me with shock then quickly faced forward; ignoring me for the rest of the period. I just smiled and waited for class to begin.

It was going to be a good year; I could feel it.


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That wasn't bad right?!
I kinda write looong chapters cause I'm a loser with no life that likes to spend my time writing XD
R&R please? :3 It helps me update faster, oh and this is kinda my first fanfic here so NO JUDGY
ookay well leave me some reviews telling me what you think


SUPERMAN OUT
swings cape and flies away

boob xoxo