Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Isn't it awkward when your teachers like eachother? ;)
Your Guardian Angel Part One
1 reviewTitle from Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, this song is one of my favourites ever! ;) Oh the chapter! Frank has a bad day :(
1Exciting
Hey lovely ladies and gorgeous gents! :)
Franks POV
The next day i arrive right on time for the first time since i even got my job. I think i was actually late for the interview, i know it sounds bad but how was i meant to know Jerry Springer had a special edition on. It was worthy of my time anyways, plus like i said before, my job was more for my parents than anyone. I only stuck around because i was getting decent wages and had been able to buy all the one tree hill boxsets with that money. I like tv okay? Plus, the drama's are the best by far.
I was hoping i'd find Gerard lazing around in the staffroom as i walked in ruffling my hair that was refusing to stay flat. I liked it better spiked but obviously i had to look like i was professional, so smart or smartish was essential. Instead, i found miss Barbie glaring at me for my secret half drunk episode involving her yesterday and the head reading a newspaper surrounded by hoards of examination papers. I couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in my chest as i turned away and walked off to my classroom. Maybe he's late? Wait, why am i so desperate for him to be here? I'm a grown man, not a teenage girl! Well, i don't look like one anyways. God, why did he have to be so cute and annoyingly perfect and captivating. His sparkling, wide eyes, his innocent smile and flowing locks of hair, his trousers, the way they hung delicately bringing out the contours of his a-- stop right there Frank, shut up and focus on your job!
Right yah, my job, my job as a teacher of angry, hormonal teenage girls, that i finally understood perfectly well.
The rest of the day went by in a quick, colourful blur. It was nothing extraordinary, just a regular day for a teacher at our school. I got bottled at least three times, i got verbally abused by nearly every student I was forced to teach music too and a new addition to my days, my heart hurt for the longing of a certain man named Gerard Way."RIGHT!" I screamed at my final class of the day. " TODAY HAS BEEN HORRENDOUS AND YOU AS A CLASS ARE BEING THE WORST BY FAR! YOU DON'T YELL AT YOUR TEACHER! YOU DON'T THROW BOTTLES AS YOU PLEASE YOU FUCKING BEASTS!" I scream at the top of my lungs. Suddenly all eyes divert in another direction as the door creaks open revealing none other than the Head. And judging by the look on his face, he had just heard everything.
I juggle the huge cardboard box of my things as i walk to my battered old car.My legs almost snapping at the extra weight. I throw the box into the back seat and stop to study the place i have called work for the last two and a half years. The same bricks, the same dirty smeared glass windows, the same employees and graffiti tags that nobody has owned up too. And the poor maintenance staff that would have to make a desperate attempt to scrub the wall down. And now my stomach was heavy with the knowledge that I needed a new job, a parent pleasing job and one that would help me to keep track of the cost of my suburban home. I climb into the front seat and drive the forty minutes to my house. There on the porch steps is a skinny and familiar silhouette. A mop of dark hair and lily white skin. Instantly, my day seems brighter.
Franks POV
The next day i arrive right on time for the first time since i even got my job. I think i was actually late for the interview, i know it sounds bad but how was i meant to know Jerry Springer had a special edition on. It was worthy of my time anyways, plus like i said before, my job was more for my parents than anyone. I only stuck around because i was getting decent wages and had been able to buy all the one tree hill boxsets with that money. I like tv okay? Plus, the drama's are the best by far.
I was hoping i'd find Gerard lazing around in the staffroom as i walked in ruffling my hair that was refusing to stay flat. I liked it better spiked but obviously i had to look like i was professional, so smart or smartish was essential. Instead, i found miss Barbie glaring at me for my secret half drunk episode involving her yesterday and the head reading a newspaper surrounded by hoards of examination papers. I couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in my chest as i turned away and walked off to my classroom. Maybe he's late? Wait, why am i so desperate for him to be here? I'm a grown man, not a teenage girl! Well, i don't look like one anyways. God, why did he have to be so cute and annoyingly perfect and captivating. His sparkling, wide eyes, his innocent smile and flowing locks of hair, his trousers, the way they hung delicately bringing out the contours of his a-- stop right there Frank, shut up and focus on your job!
Right yah, my job, my job as a teacher of angry, hormonal teenage girls, that i finally understood perfectly well.
The rest of the day went by in a quick, colourful blur. It was nothing extraordinary, just a regular day for a teacher at our school. I got bottled at least three times, i got verbally abused by nearly every student I was forced to teach music too and a new addition to my days, my heart hurt for the longing of a certain man named Gerard Way."RIGHT!" I screamed at my final class of the day. " TODAY HAS BEEN HORRENDOUS AND YOU AS A CLASS ARE BEING THE WORST BY FAR! YOU DON'T YELL AT YOUR TEACHER! YOU DON'T THROW BOTTLES AS YOU PLEASE YOU FUCKING BEASTS!" I scream at the top of my lungs. Suddenly all eyes divert in another direction as the door creaks open revealing none other than the Head. And judging by the look on his face, he had just heard everything.
I juggle the huge cardboard box of my things as i walk to my battered old car.My legs almost snapping at the extra weight. I throw the box into the back seat and stop to study the place i have called work for the last two and a half years. The same bricks, the same dirty smeared glass windows, the same employees and graffiti tags that nobody has owned up too. And the poor maintenance staff that would have to make a desperate attempt to scrub the wall down. And now my stomach was heavy with the knowledge that I needed a new job, a parent pleasing job and one that would help me to keep track of the cost of my suburban home. I climb into the front seat and drive the forty minutes to my house. There on the porch steps is a skinny and familiar silhouette. A mop of dark hair and lily white skin. Instantly, my day seems brighter.
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