Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 19


by PartyPooperX 4 reviews


Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Romance - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Published: 2012-03-29 - Updated: 2012-06-21 - 1532 words

[A/N: So yeah, this was a pretty random idea, but I’m quite proud of it as a first chapter. Not sure where it’s going so if you guys think it’s worth it then don’t hesitate to tell me! (not a songfic before you ask)]


April 2001

Once upon a time, there was a boy who discovered he had turned into the wrong person.

Frank Iero lay in the parched grass of his small backyard, blowing smoke into the sky and wondering where it had all gone wrong. It was half past six on the hottest day of the summer and the radio was blaring the Beach Boys from an open window. He could hear his mother singing and dancing around the kitchen, tapping at the plates with spoons and other utensils and making a beat that was completely irrelevant to the actual song – the type of thing she did a lot when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older?

Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long

And wouldn’t it be nice to live together

In the kind of world where we belong

Usually he would have felt embarrassed, telling her to stop in case a neighbour might stick their nose in and see much to their humiliation. But this time he was so caught up in his thoughts he simply didn’t care.

He pondered at what point in his life things went downhill. In the past he would’ve blamed his parents for anything that went wrong, that it was obvious a divorce would unavoidably have a massive effect on the son. That’s what the solicitor had said anyway. When he was sixteen he would’ve happily said it was Dad’s fault for leaving, or Mom’s fault for being so tired all the time, and that’s what made things turn sour. But he wasn’t sixteen anymore. He was a young adult, a fully-fledged member of society here to make a difference. And in his hand was a crumpled up letter of rejection from Montclair State University.

You know it’s gonna make it that much better

When we can say goodnight and stay together

In the end he just decided it was nobody’s fault for his failure. Maybe the universe was using him as a guinea pig to inflict Karma onto for the mistakes of someone else. Maybe he had done something bad in a past existence. Or maybe he was just someone living the wrong life. Frank took a drag of the cigarette resting in his fingers and contemplated the idea of someone out there living his dreams, working in his real job, married to his real wife. He nodded to himself. That must be it.

Wouldn’t it be nice

The sound of glass crashing to the floor and shattering into a hundred little diamonds split the air from the house next door. The muffled voices were raised, one belonging to a man and the other a woman. Frank rolled his eyes and crawled onto his knees, peeking his head out over the brick wall separating the two gardens. They were a young couple, he knew, that had just moved in that week and weren’t taking it too well. The two had been arguing since the day they moved in. He guessed it was the unpleasantness of the realisation that Belleville wasn’t what it looked like in the pictures. They wouldn’t have been the first.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up

In the morning when the day is new

And after having spent the night together

Hold each other close the whole night through

The back door slammed and the man stormed out into the yard. Frank watched him draw out a cigarette of his own with the obvious desperation of an addict and attempted to light it. With every empty flick of the lighter he grew more and more impatient until suddenly he let out a frustrated growl and threw the lighter at the window. The woman appeared at the window with a sour expression but disappeared again quickly enough for Frank to only catch
a glimpse of her pinched pale face until the curtains closed over it. The man groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Frank cleared his throat awkwardly. His neighbour’s head snapped up and his eyes met him with a hostility that almost made Frank feel ashamed of alerting his presence.

“Yeah, and what are you looking at?” the man snarled.

Frank sighed exasperatedly and fished in the pocket of his jeans for his own lighter. He passed it over the wall and his neighbour took it gratefully. The man flicked the switch and lit the end of his cigarette before taking a long, much needed drag.

“Thanks,” he murmured, passing it back to him. Their hands brushed as Frank took it. His fingers were cold.

“No problem,” Frank replied before taking a drag of his own and sending a plume of smoke into the air, completely aware of the man’s eyes still fixed on him which made him feel more than uncomfortable.

The man twiddled the cigarette between his fingers. “Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

Frank rolled his eyes again. “I’m nineteen.”

“College then.”

He sniffed bitterly and looked away. “Since when was it your business?”

The man looked down sheepishly and shrugged. Thick silence fell upon them. Frank looked up at the sky. Summer hung drugged over the rooftops of Belleville, the late afternoon inking the sky with dark oranges and yellows like watercolour on paper. His eyes rested on his neighbour’s house. The woman was moving around upstairs, her silhouette visible against the shutters upstairs. The man caught him staring and he looked away hurriedly, heat flushing his cheeks.

“If you really wanna know, she hates it,” his companion explained tiredly, like he’d said it a thousand times before. He looked back with a contemptuous look. “Says it’s my fault. Of course she does - she’s a woman.” Then he laughed but there was nothing funny about it, a dry bark full of regret and Nicotine.

“You ever had a girl, kid?”

Frank raised his eyebrow. “What?”

“A girl. Do you know what it’s like?”

Frank raised and lowered his shoulder. The man smiled wryly and sucked at his cigarette. “Good,” he replied. “Don’t ever try to find out. ‘Cus it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Then he laughed bitterly again but this time the smoke got caught in his throat and sent him into a fit of coughs and splutters. He coughed into his hand and turned away. Frank watched him impatiently until his gagging subsided and when he turned back around to face him Frank’s breath hitched. The light of the sunset seeping away between the houses hit the side of his face in a golden glow, sending a sparkle to his eyes that were, Frank realised for the first time, a sharp, startling hazel.

Frank had never considered a man to be pretty before but there really wasn’t any other way to describe him. His features were petite and delicate, like they hadn’t yet developed from when he was a child; his skin an unnaturally pale white – the white of someone who spent too much time indoors – and a staggering contrast to the jet black hair that flicked at the nape of his neck and framed his face, just managing not to fall into his eyes. Perfectly, Frank thought despite himself.

“What’s your name?” the pretty man asked him.

Frank’s fists clenched behind him, the reason unknown to him. “Frank. Frank Iero.”

“I’m Gerard.” And Gerard smiled properly for the first time but there was something wrong with it, like it belonged to someone who hadn’t seen anyone smile before and was copying it from description. It was too wide for his face, as if there were tiny invisible hooks at the edges of his mouth stretching it extensively and displaying teeth that looked like tiny pearls embedded into his gums.

“What’s that in your hand?” Gerard nodded towards the letter, reminding Frank that he was still holding it. “Or is that none of my business as well?”

Frank shrugged. “College, I guess.”

Gerard raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a scrutinising stare. “Whatever, Mystery Man. You keep your secrets.”

Frank opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again when he found there was nothing left to say. Then the man called Gerard stubbed his cigarette into the ground and headed back inside.

Frank watched him go until he shut the door and then he too made his way back to his own house, where things made sense. The radio had started another song but he cut it off abruptly and climbed the stairs up to his room, chucking the letter of rejection in the bin on the way. Outside the sun set over New Jersey.

Wouldn’t it be nice
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