Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Ghost of Apartment 27
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys. This chapter is short and kind of shitty. The next one is better. There's sex. I'm in the middle of that one. Thanks-- ren.
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Mikey’s POV:
“So,” I covered my mouth and put my head down as I talked. “Can I ask you a few questions, Frank?”
The small teen smiled and nodded. “Go for it.”
I don’t think anyone has ever made me more nervous in my life. I was literally shaking in my shoes.
“What’s your favourite color?”
Frank looked up from his blue tray of food, and with a smirk on his face and a chuckle in his voice questioned “What? My favourite.. Why my favourite color??”
“Just answer the question.”
“I.. I guess it would be black and red. You?”
I squinted and thought. I smiled a little when I realized it wasn’t that hard of a question. “I really dig red. Red and black.”
“Hey!” The teen smacked me playfully with a huge grin on his face. “Copy-cat!!” He giggled and spoke. “Alright. My turn. Big jump from color, you ready?” He raised his voice “You ready, man?!”
I clapped my hands “Im fucking ready!”
He hesitated to raise anticipation. “Do you.. play an instrument?!” He opened his mouth and froze, awaiting my ‘exciting’ reply.
“Hell no! Well, I used to play bass. I wasn’t very good, though.” I frowned look down at my own blue tray. “How long have you played guitar?”
Frank bit his lower lip and looked up and to the right. “I.. I think since I was 10? I dunno, man. It was a while ago. Say, tell me something,” he dropped his spork and looked up at me, “If we’re in the same grade, how come I don’t remember seeing you?”
I leaned over and dumped my left over food in the trash by the table. I got up and gestured to Frank to follow me. We walked outside and walked around the running track.
“I really don’t know, man. I know I’ve only barely talked to you, but you’re really cool.”
I dug the pack of cigarettes out of my back pocket, and flipped the top off. “You smoke?”
He nodded, and offered me his lighter that was stuffed into the back pocket of his skin tight jeans. We exchanged items; I handed him a cigarette, he handed me the lighter, and I lit up. He followed and in unison we shoved the items into our pockets. I filled my lungs with the sweet nicotine and exhaled through my nose.
“That means a lot to me. Do you mind if I have your number? You know.. So we can text.. get to know each other a little bit more?”
“Absolutely.”
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Mikey’s POV:
“So,” I covered my mouth and put my head down as I talked. “Can I ask you a few questions, Frank?”
The small teen smiled and nodded. “Go for it.”
I don’t think anyone has ever made me more nervous in my life. I was literally shaking in my shoes.
“What’s your favourite color?”
Frank looked up from his blue tray of food, and with a smirk on his face and a chuckle in his voice questioned “What? My favourite.. Why my favourite color??”
“Just answer the question.”
“I.. I guess it would be black and red. You?”
I squinted and thought. I smiled a little when I realized it wasn’t that hard of a question. “I really dig red. Red and black.”
“Hey!” The teen smacked me playfully with a huge grin on his face. “Copy-cat!!” He giggled and spoke. “Alright. My turn. Big jump from color, you ready?” He raised his voice “You ready, man?!”
I clapped my hands “Im fucking ready!”
He hesitated to raise anticipation. “Do you.. play an instrument?!” He opened his mouth and froze, awaiting my ‘exciting’ reply.
“Hell no! Well, I used to play bass. I wasn’t very good, though.” I frowned look down at my own blue tray. “How long have you played guitar?”
Frank bit his lower lip and looked up and to the right. “I.. I think since I was 10? I dunno, man. It was a while ago. Say, tell me something,” he dropped his spork and looked up at me, “If we’re in the same grade, how come I don’t remember seeing you?”
I leaned over and dumped my left over food in the trash by the table. I got up and gestured to Frank to follow me. We walked outside and walked around the running track.
“I really don’t know, man. I know I’ve only barely talked to you, but you’re really cool.”
I dug the pack of cigarettes out of my back pocket, and flipped the top off. “You smoke?”
He nodded, and offered me his lighter that was stuffed into the back pocket of his skin tight jeans. We exchanged items; I handed him a cigarette, he handed me the lighter, and I lit up. He followed and in unison we shoved the items into our pockets. I filled my lungs with the sweet nicotine and exhaled through my nose.
“That means a lot to me. Do you mind if I have your number? You know.. So we can text.. get to know each other a little bit more?”
“Absolutely.”
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