FicWad

Chapter one

The sharp, shrill scream rings out of the small alarm clock on Frank’s bedside table. He grunts and reaches out to slam his hand on top of it. The light pours through his windows, the sun strategically burning its rays onto Frank’s face, causing him to groan and bury his face into his pillow.

Just as he is on the brink of unconsciousness once again, his mum’s voice sounds from the doorway of the room. “Time to get up, sweetie! New school, new start!”

“How can you be so fucking cheery?” Frank complains, pulling his duvet further up his body.

“Don’t swear, get up.” Linda replies, pottering around the room, picking up dirty clothes and putting bits and bobs into draws. “Honestly, Frankie, with this bloody bombsite God knows how you find anything in this pigsty.” She shakes her head, flipping the light on, causing Frank to shove his head deeper into his pillow. “C’mon, up!” Linda lightly slaps his leg, like he’s some sort of pet.

“First of all, I put shit where it belongs because I know where I leave it, but when you put it in random draws I have to route through the whole room to find what I want. Second, I don’t approve of you calling it a pigsty. I spent a lot of time and effort on the wall decorations.” He slowly rises, wiping the sleep from his droopy eyes.

“Blue-tacking millions of posters to your walls doesn’t count as decor. With the horrific pictures on these posters, it counts as vandalism. Take a look at this one! The baby is naked!”

“Oh my God mum, it’s Nirvana, okay? Get over it... God.” Frank huffs whilst sloppily stepping into his worn black skinnies and shrugging into his old Black Flag t-shirt.

“I must buy you some new black jeans. Those have holes at the knees and the colour is fading in the middle.” Linda points out, de-creasing her son’s t-shirt whilst it’s on him. Frank just swats her hand away, grunting.

“Mum, that’s how I like them. Besides, it’s just school.”

“So? I want you to look presentable on your first day!”

“I’ve had loads of first days; this will be just like the others, ‘Hi, I’m Frank. I’m the weird bisexual kid who sets shit alight in science class and sleeps through history. Feel free to slam me up against lockers and break my jaw, I’ll be moving in a year.’”

“No, I want you to make friends at Belleville high. I don’t want to have to find another school for you to join. If anything, and I mean anything, happens like it did last time, I want you to tell me right away. I don’t want to find out you’ve been beaten up again. Okay Frankie?” Frank just nods, finishing up in the bathroom.

Frank looks at his reflection in the full length mirror. His hair is getting too long and it’s scruffy, but he can’t be bothered to brush it, instead he straightens his dark, floppy fringe and runs his fingers through it lazily, leaving the majority of it somewhat straight. He applies a thin ring of black kohl liner around his russet eyes and smudges it through before shoving on his old, beaten Batman converse and checking his reflection one last time.

“It’ll do.” Frank mumbles, grabbing his badge adorned bag and stuffing shit in to fill it out a little.

“Come on sweetie, Darren’s made us a cooked breakfast.” Linda ushers him out of the room, causing him to grunt.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Frankie, listen, I really like Darren, please don’t screw this up?” Frank suddenly feels a surge of guilt but buries it swiftly. “Besides, you’re not eating much lately. You need to keep strong!”

“Fine. But only some bacon.”

-

A bacon sandwich and a pint of milk later, Frank is hurriedly yanking his Iron Maiden hoodie over his head.

“Goodbye, love you, have a good day!” Linda rushes out before Frank shuts the front door, speed walking to school.

Ugh. Frank hates the fucking word.

School is just an asylum. Every corridor he walks down, people are there to judge. To ‘accidently’ shove him into lockers or slam a door on his face. Frank’s used to it, but he still wants to go on a fifth period fucking massacre.

Having given up on speed walking, Frank plods along the last empty street before the high school
comes into view, completely apathetic and only one aim for the day.

Get out of class when possible.

When Frank finally reaches the school, he decides it’s a shit hole with first sight. Its brick exterior is boring and the colours of the windows are a deep blue and it just radiates the ‘do your work and get good grades, we don’t tolerate shit’ kind of vibe.

Fucking great.

“Hello there, son. You must be the new boy! Welcome to Belleville High.”

Frank spins around to an old, rather plump woman in a disgusting green suit adorned with a small, diamond broach. His hand flies to his heart as he pants ever so slightly, still in utter shock. He’d not seen anybody around as he entered.

“Holy fuck! Where did you come from?!” Frank exclaims, releasing one last puff of air.

“We don’t tolerate that sort of language, however, I’ll be lenient as you probably aren’t used to it.” Frank already doesn't like her, snobby bitch, it’s not like he went to worse schools, and he knows it’s wrong to swear. That doesn’t stop him though.

“Uh... okay?”

“I think I have your file in my office. I’ll be right back, stay right here.” The lady waddles off, without even giving her name, and leaves Frank already deciding how to get out of class early. He could fake his own death, but that’s a little extreme. He could slap the teacher and then he’d be sent out, he could also blame it on the fact that he’s ‘not used to it’ and maybe, just maybe get away with it?

‘Good thinking.’ Frank mentally praises himself.

-

“So, your homeroom professor is Mr Way. He also teaches you,” Mrs Matthers, Frank learned her name is, glanced at his timetable, “Art and music. Right. This way, Franklin.”
Frank cringes at the name. Franklin. No wonder he got bullied.

The school looks just boring. It’s got all the necessary facilities, a few posters encouraging school events are stapled to the walls, some children’s work is also on a few notice boards. The lights spill a greasy, orange glow across the hallway, lockers are waiting to be smashed into and doors are waiting to be opened in Frank’s face.

Ugh.

As Mrs Matthers opens a door on the top floor of the building, Frank’s ears are graced with rowdy shouts from teenagers, who appear to be having a debate with their teacher about horror movies.

Just as Matthers steps in through the door and pushes Frank in front of her, he catches sight of the teacher. Mr Way is fucking gorgeous.

His raven, tousled hair is mid-neck length and carefully dishevelled, resembling an inky, feathery waterfall framing his pale, chiselled face. Frank can just see that his eyes are olive coloured with millions of flecks of brown. Black kohl liner, similar to Frank’s outlines his eyes, making them pop. He looks a little like a vampire because he’s so pale, but his beauty is overwhelming. Frank can’t slap this man.

Never.

“This is Franklin Iero.” A few students chuckle, causing Frank to grunt and look away, irritated. “Make him welcome; be nice, you know the drill. Frank, go get your timetable from Mr Way, I’ll be around if you need me.”

Frank panics, he wants to get out of class, all eyes are watching him and he’s unbelievably uncomfortable. His eyes scan the room for an excuse to leave, and a small, black object on Mr Way’s desk catches his eye.

Frank plods over to the stapler, completely straight faced, places his small hand where the paper should go and slams the stapler onto his skin. Blood immediately begins to dribble out around the small, metal teeth of the staple.

“Ow.” Frank says apathetically, watching Mr Way’s reaction. “Looks like I need to go to the nurse.” Students gasp and giggle, Mr Way’s eyes practically bug out of his head, he looks as if he wants to laugh in disbelief, but also seems mesmerized by this boy.

The teacher begins to speak, “I’ll take y-”

“I’ll find my way.” Frank cuts him off and just walks out of the class room.

‘Great start.’ Frank silently applauds himself, looking for the nearest exit.


A/N hope you enjoyed; more RR+Rs the more uploads:)xx