Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Secret Circle(Frerard)
Frank started dismally at his weay looking reflection in the old fashioned mirror that sat atop an ancient looking oak dressing table. The boy that stared back at him looked even more miserable than he felt. With sunken, bloodshot eyes surrounded by dark circles from lack of sleep and dyed hair that just wouldn`t sit right he definitely didn`t look like the kid anyone would want to sit by on his first day of a new school.
Frank groans and turns away from the sorry sight in the glass. School, he had never really enjoyed school back at home. He had friends, well two friends anyway, both girls. It wasn`t that he had ever had any trouble from any of the other kids, despite being shy and liking different music to most, the young rocker just had a hard time concentrating in most lessons. Like math, what was being able to count to ten going to do for him out in the real world?
“Frank, are you ready yet?” his chestnut haired, equally short mother calls from the other side of the closed bedroom door, knocking hesitantly on the rotten wood.
“Yeah, one minute Mom.” He hastily tugs on a pair of doc martens that had most definitely seen better days and grabs a red and black striped hoodie.
“I`m ready.” Frank lies expertly and follows his mother, dressed today in her designer jeans and gym hoodie, out of the house, bidding a quiet, half hearted goodbye to his wrinkled, mysterious Grandmother who was sat in her usual armchair reading a book with a worn leather cover.
His first thoughts of his new school, a two hundred year old gothic building was that of surprise. Frank had never seen a building like it before. His old school had sky high metal fences and people checking their bags for any offending items. Not this building. The rusted old fences were less than a metre high, with iron spikes on the top and everyone was free to enter without being searched for drugs or guns.
“Have a good day, Frank!” Linda Iero smiles cheerily and waves animatedly before driving off into the distance, lost in the multicoloured crowds of cars all on their way to work or the school.
All around him there were teenagers greeting each other happily telling their friends about their weekends. Unlike at his old school where all the guys had perfectly styled, short hair and the girls were all a frightening shade of orange with a fried tangle of bleached blonde hair atop their heads, Frank noticed that all of the student looked different, instead of being just bad clones of each other.
Instead of waiting in the brightly decorated hallway alone Frank decides to try to find his way to his first class. History with a Mr. R. J Simmons. On his way he passes many more kids, all reluctant to head to class yet, still standing in mixed groups chatting about random things together.
He reaches the right room, number thirteen after going wrong only once. Feeling rather pleased with his directional skills, Frank enters the large, cluttered classroom and takes a seat at the very back, throwing his Misfits bag on the table in front of him.
He thought he was alone until he overhears a confusing conversation from somewhere behind him.
“It worked really well, you should have seen Ray`s face.” giggles a turquoise haired girl with deep brown, lightly made up eyes.
“I bet. It was hilarious.” Laughs another girl. She had cherry red hair and bright blue eyes lightly outlined with pink eyeliner.
“Yeah, it was so funny. He really didn`t expect me to use his own spell against him!”
“Oh poor lickle witchy!” the red haired girl mocks through her giggles.
Frank frowns and turns to face the small group, trying not to make it look obvious that he was eavesdropping. Their conversation, odd and confusing as it was, intrigued him.
Four people, all girls were stood casually leaning against the back wall of the classroom. They were all different looking, and yet frighteningly similar. Each of them were unlike any other girls he had ever seen before. They were more than pretty, far too beautiful for words. It was almost unnatural how much these girls stood out and yet were cut off from the rest of the school at the same time.
The teacher walks in, a baldy, grey haired man dressed in a stiff, old fashioned suit and tie. He was followed by around ten or so other students, still talking happily about their weekends.
“Alright everyone, in your seats.” He barks and sighing everyone does as he said, muttering softly under their breath as they did so.
The four girls at the back groan and follow his instructions. They Sit near Frank at the back, shooting him odd, unnerving glances as the lesson began that made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up on edge. He didn`t like it. He didn`t like it one little bit.
Frank groans and turns away from the sorry sight in the glass. School, he had never really enjoyed school back at home. He had friends, well two friends anyway, both girls. It wasn`t that he had ever had any trouble from any of the other kids, despite being shy and liking different music to most, the young rocker just had a hard time concentrating in most lessons. Like math, what was being able to count to ten going to do for him out in the real world?
“Frank, are you ready yet?” his chestnut haired, equally short mother calls from the other side of the closed bedroom door, knocking hesitantly on the rotten wood.
“Yeah, one minute Mom.” He hastily tugs on a pair of doc martens that had most definitely seen better days and grabs a red and black striped hoodie.
“I`m ready.” Frank lies expertly and follows his mother, dressed today in her designer jeans and gym hoodie, out of the house, bidding a quiet, half hearted goodbye to his wrinkled, mysterious Grandmother who was sat in her usual armchair reading a book with a worn leather cover.
His first thoughts of his new school, a two hundred year old gothic building was that of surprise. Frank had never seen a building like it before. His old school had sky high metal fences and people checking their bags for any offending items. Not this building. The rusted old fences were less than a metre high, with iron spikes on the top and everyone was free to enter without being searched for drugs or guns.
“Have a good day, Frank!” Linda Iero smiles cheerily and waves animatedly before driving off into the distance, lost in the multicoloured crowds of cars all on their way to work or the school.
All around him there were teenagers greeting each other happily telling their friends about their weekends. Unlike at his old school where all the guys had perfectly styled, short hair and the girls were all a frightening shade of orange with a fried tangle of bleached blonde hair atop their heads, Frank noticed that all of the student looked different, instead of being just bad clones of each other.
Instead of waiting in the brightly decorated hallway alone Frank decides to try to find his way to his first class. History with a Mr. R. J Simmons. On his way he passes many more kids, all reluctant to head to class yet, still standing in mixed groups chatting about random things together.
He reaches the right room, number thirteen after going wrong only once. Feeling rather pleased with his directional skills, Frank enters the large, cluttered classroom and takes a seat at the very back, throwing his Misfits bag on the table in front of him.
He thought he was alone until he overhears a confusing conversation from somewhere behind him.
“It worked really well, you should have seen Ray`s face.” giggles a turquoise haired girl with deep brown, lightly made up eyes.
“I bet. It was hilarious.” Laughs another girl. She had cherry red hair and bright blue eyes lightly outlined with pink eyeliner.
“Yeah, it was so funny. He really didn`t expect me to use his own spell against him!”
“Oh poor lickle witchy!” the red haired girl mocks through her giggles.
Frank frowns and turns to face the small group, trying not to make it look obvious that he was eavesdropping. Their conversation, odd and confusing as it was, intrigued him.
Four people, all girls were stood casually leaning against the back wall of the classroom. They were all different looking, and yet frighteningly similar. Each of them were unlike any other girls he had ever seen before. They were more than pretty, far too beautiful for words. It was almost unnatural how much these girls stood out and yet were cut off from the rest of the school at the same time.
The teacher walks in, a baldy, grey haired man dressed in a stiff, old fashioned suit and tie. He was followed by around ten or so other students, still talking happily about their weekends.
“Alright everyone, in your seats.” He barks and sighing everyone does as he said, muttering softly under their breath as they did so.
The four girls at the back groan and follow his instructions. They Sit near Frank at the back, shooting him odd, unnerving glances as the lesson began that made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up on edge. He didn`t like it. He didn`t like it one little bit.
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