FicWad

The black and red haired front man lay on his bed, resting his head on his bare elbows, as he thought to himself, trying to work out exactly how and when things had changed so dramatically. His faithful green IPod was blasting out familiar, comforting songs via his favourite deep purple skull candy headphones. Frank was shirtless, displaying his pale, thin but muscular chest covered with tattoos, the singer finding the evening too warm. Resting on the single, surprisingly comfortable bed by his side was his much loved guitar pansy. It was his first ever guitar, an eleventh birthday gift from his cousin Apollonia or Apple as he called her as a young child before he could pronounce her full name. He wondered briefly whether or not the black haired girl still knew he had it, and still treasured it as much now as he did then.
Sighing deeply, a long drawn out tired sound, the talented young musician rolls over onto his bare back, placing his tattooed arms behind his head, using his hands to rest his head on.
Things weren`t always this way, he thinks to himself, closing his eyes, completely exhausted but not wanting to go to sleep yet. Maybe the others are right; maybe I am just a self obsessed jerk.
Glancing up at the simple old fashioned grandfather clock that stood tall and prod against the far wall Frank groans, and sits up again. He had so many thoughts rushing through his head, most about how on earth he was going to get out of this dammed camp. He would be going against his band mate`s wishes, and most likely disappointing them yet again and most likely his older cousin, but the young rocker had no intention of staying here in this boring hell. He was young and wild, he didn`t want to feel caged in and controlled, and that was how he felt at this camp.
Frank felt as though he was back at high school again, the shittiest, most characterless place on earth, being told what to do again. That was one of the reason Frank has wanted to become a rock star, the freedom. To Frank freedom was the air that he breathes, the blood pumping through his polluted veins. He didn`t want to be here, he wasn`t a little kid anymore.

He groans again, and switches on the bedside lamp, getting to his feet slowly and tiptoeing quietly across the room, coming to a halt in front of a tall, thin mirror. Frank was barely able to recognise the boy staring back at him as himself. The man in the mirror was pale just like he was and covered with tattoos. His tattoos. He was good looking, and he knew it, his stance was confident and his head was held high. But there was something not quite right with this reflection, there was something missing. Maybe it was the lack of joy in his deep chocolate eyes that had long since been replaced by emptiness, or maybe it was the sunken, bloodshot eyes and the false looking smile.
Frowning at his reflection, Frank turns away and climbs back into bed, a strange sense of longing welling up inside his chest. Longing for what he wasn`t sure. The guitarist had everything he had ever wanted, didn`t he? Riches, fame, thousands of screaming fans, long lines of incredibly hot girls lining up to sleep with him. Life was good.
So why did he feel like there was something missing, like there was an empty space somewhere?
He sighs again and lays back down, picking pansy up off of the bed, before falling into a restless sleep.
…
The youngest way brother, the only one who had actually wanted to stay at the camp entered the cabin with a shy but happy smile on his pale face.
He was greeted warmly by a small group of girls, all sitting around on the floor, cushions spread out on it to sit on.
One of them who was dressed in a strange shirt and cotton night shorts, who had bright blue eyes smiled up at him as he entered, standing near the door a little awkwardly.
“Hi. I`m Margot.” The black haired, pale girl introduces herself and pats the space next to her, inviting Mikey to sit with her and the other campers, all of which were looking up at the handsome boy with interest.
“I`m Mikey Way.” Margot laughs, he blue eyes twinkling.
“Nice to meet you.” she says before returning her attention to a silver notebook which was almost completely filled up with a draft of a story the girl had been working on, the spidery, crimson words gleaming intriguingly on the white lined page.
“Don`t mind Margot.” Begins light brown haired girl, dressed in Steam Punk, clothing that was covered in paint splatters, clearly showing that she was an artist. “She is pretty much always writing in that thing. She never lets us read it but we know that she`s gonna be like the next big writer someday soon.”
Mikey nods, a little taken aback by this but smiles at the writer, who was nibbling on the tip of her crimson pen ass she thought.
“I`m Chloe.” She grins shyly at the brown haired, glasses wearing teen.
“Seeing as we are all introducing each other, I`m Victoria.” A pale girl with spiky black hair tells him looking up from her purple IPod.
“Nice to meet you guys.”
The teen girls all roll their eyes but smile at him, taking a liking to the awkward boy already, odd considering some of them were fairly shy.
…
Mikey was the last to fall asleep that night in his cabin, he was too excited and nervous waiting for the morning and his first full day at camp Aftermath. He wondered briefly what the first class would be like, before his mind wandered to his gothic, people loathing, and incredibly talented elder brother. He wondered how Gerard was coping so far, or if he hated it even worse than he thought he would.
…
This place sucks so bad.
The raven haired boy thinks to himself, pulling the dark blue covers over his head tightly, protecting him from the cold outside world. And from the curious, confused other campers.
Why did I have to come here?
He glares at nothing in particular as he lays there in the dark, ignoring the quiet whispers of his roommates who were excitedly talking about the next day.
He had never been less happy to be somewhere away from home in his entire life, including school. At least there he could ditch lessons and people didn`t raise an eyebrow. And at least that was all over with now, he had done his time and he would never have to step foot in the evil, soulless building again. there he was used to people taking no interest in him, no one ever dared speak to the sad little emo loner.
But here it would be different, he could feel it. Things were about to change in his pathetic little insignificant life and if there was once thing that Gerard Way hated more than people, it was change…