Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Hybrid Moments
Two
Frank sauntered up the stairs to his new bedroom, sidestepping a number of half-unpacked cardboard boxes, clothes spilling out like a gaping wound (this sort of ghastly analogy always comforted Frank). He approached his dresser, which contained a small amount of his vast wardrobe, but he didn't feel energetic enough to bend over and root through the boxes. Selecting a black t-shirt and a pair of black, straight-legged Levis, he changed from his previous outfit (one dirty yellow bathrobe, one pair of black underwear) and sauntered down the stairs to his kitchen. He bid his mother goodbye, tossed on a black hoodie (covered in patches that bore the names of various crust, doom, and oi bands) and headed out the door. He unlocked his car, which had been towed behind one of the moving vans as his mom didn't trust him to drive from fucking Connecticut to New Jersey for one reason or another.
Once inside, Frank sighed and gazed at the garage door in front of him. This half-second of peace was shattered by the bang of a rock on the hood of his car and his mother waving her fist at him. Frank was doubtless that she had recognised his moment of solace and was hellbent on ruining it. He swore at her to himself and jammed the key in the ignition, cranked the stereo, and ignited a cigarette, before reversing out of the driveway as loudly and recklessly as he could.
The weather was pleasantly breezy and the air smelled of burning leaves and caramel, one of those trademark 'fall' scents that is easily ignorable if you do enough drugs. Frank typically did, but today was a rare exception in that he was both without dealer and dollars. So he inhaled the smell, made his sourest Warhead face, and doubled up on drags of his cigarette. Pulling into the school parking lot was less of a shellshock than he had anticipated - the school looked just like a normal high school. Maybe a bit grubbier, but he almost liked that. He found a parking space near the back and flicked his cigarette out the window before exiting the car. As soon as he was finished locking it, he turned to find a rather stern looking woman standing before him, arms crossed and a look of complete disapproval on her face. "Office. Now." She barked, and Frank, bewildered, followed her into the building.
Once inside, he was instructed to sit in a waiting room. He seated himself in front of the desk of an incredibly obese woman who clicked away at her computer as though there were not a raven-haired juvenile delinquent seated before her, but rather as if there were nothing at all. This sort of pissed Frank off. He seriously doubted she had anything more important to do than attend to him. Probably on facebook. He thought, annoyed, and before he had given it much consideration, leaned forward to tap on her desk. She looked up, and her expression informed Frank that no-one had ever done that to her before. "Can I help you..?" She asked, bossy-bitch attitude shining through. How is it that everyone who works in every office of every high school in America is the same person? Frank asked himself, simultaneously answering her question. "Yes, you may. I was wondering why I am here and also I would like you to help me get out of here. Also, I'm new and this is my first day." The woman looked about as miffed as her gigantic face would allow.
"You're in here for smoking tobacco and littering. You can leave once you've spoken to the principal. Welcome to Bellevue High School, Mr.--" "Iero. Where is the principal now?" At this point she had presumably had enough with his sass. "That will be all, Mr. Iero. Please sit quietly until it is your turn." It was all he could do not to burst out "BUT THERE IS NO-ONE ELSE IN LINE!" So he just his mouth. Man, what a bad mood he was in. And Sally Struthers over here wasn't doing him any fucking favors. As he sat, brooding, a door a bit down the hall from the office opened and he looked up from his twiddling thumbs. From the door came the stern woman who had dragged him inside. She was followed by a boy who looked to be about Frank's age. He was a good four inches taller than Frank (who stood at about 5'5"), with mussed, chin-length black hair. He was pale, almost translucent, especially in his face, which was set by thick-lashed hazel eyes and prominent brows. He had a small, pixielike nose, which was accentuated by a pair of thin lips, currently drawn into a grimace.
Immediately, Frank was transfixed. The boy, whose eyes had been wandering, suddenly fixed on Frank, and their gazes locked. Frank didn't know what to do, and suddenly his brain kicked into overdrive. Isn't it weak to break eye contact first? Is this creepy? Why am I worried if it's creepy? And so on like that until the woman barked his name and he was pulled from his trance. Almost as if he had been alarmed by the sudden noise as well, the other boy looked away from Frank. Frank directed his attention (mostly) to the principal, understanding somewhat that she expected him to get up and go to her office. He looked back to the other boy and received a tiny smile in return. The smile felt like a secret and Frank wanted desperately to put it in his pocket. Instead he did as he was instructed and listened just enough to catch the woman saying, "Thank you for your time and patience, Mr. Way. Please don't let it happen again." After that, Frank was shut into a room that smelled like old butterscotch hard candies and looked to be about as moldy. Though being sent to the principal's office on his first day was quite a legendary accomplishment and Frank was a bit smug about it, he couldn't help but wish it had been for something cooler than smoking. Everybody smoked, for chrissake!
She seated herself in a rolling office chair behind a desk which may have once been brown but now appeared to have been bleached to a most unattractive beige by the fluorescent lights. Frank met her eyes and she started in on her lecture. "Mr. Iero, I presume? Welcome to Bellevue High School. First of all, here is a copy of your schedule. Second of all, and more importantly, it is extremely imperative that you refrain from consuming tobacco products on campus, here at Bellevue High we..." And then he tuned out, his thoughts oscillating between the gaze of the black-haired boy and the fact that his principal's name was Ms. Aspleaf. (That shit writes itself. He thought.) By the time she had finished her spiel and he had his schedule in hand he was almost entirely dazed. She sent him out the door with a stern warning, which he forgot almost immediately, about the dangers of cigarettes.
All this and class hadn't even started yet. It's going to be a long fuckin' day.
Frank sauntered up the stairs to his new bedroom, sidestepping a number of half-unpacked cardboard boxes, clothes spilling out like a gaping wound (this sort of ghastly analogy always comforted Frank). He approached his dresser, which contained a small amount of his vast wardrobe, but he didn't feel energetic enough to bend over and root through the boxes. Selecting a black t-shirt and a pair of black, straight-legged Levis, he changed from his previous outfit (one dirty yellow bathrobe, one pair of black underwear) and sauntered down the stairs to his kitchen. He bid his mother goodbye, tossed on a black hoodie (covered in patches that bore the names of various crust, doom, and oi bands) and headed out the door. He unlocked his car, which had been towed behind one of the moving vans as his mom didn't trust him to drive from fucking Connecticut to New Jersey for one reason or another.
Once inside, Frank sighed and gazed at the garage door in front of him. This half-second of peace was shattered by the bang of a rock on the hood of his car and his mother waving her fist at him. Frank was doubtless that she had recognised his moment of solace and was hellbent on ruining it. He swore at her to himself and jammed the key in the ignition, cranked the stereo, and ignited a cigarette, before reversing out of the driveway as loudly and recklessly as he could.
The weather was pleasantly breezy and the air smelled of burning leaves and caramel, one of those trademark 'fall' scents that is easily ignorable if you do enough drugs. Frank typically did, but today was a rare exception in that he was both without dealer and dollars. So he inhaled the smell, made his sourest Warhead face, and doubled up on drags of his cigarette. Pulling into the school parking lot was less of a shellshock than he had anticipated - the school looked just like a normal high school. Maybe a bit grubbier, but he almost liked that. He found a parking space near the back and flicked his cigarette out the window before exiting the car. As soon as he was finished locking it, he turned to find a rather stern looking woman standing before him, arms crossed and a look of complete disapproval on her face. "Office. Now." She barked, and Frank, bewildered, followed her into the building.
Once inside, he was instructed to sit in a waiting room. He seated himself in front of the desk of an incredibly obese woman who clicked away at her computer as though there were not a raven-haired juvenile delinquent seated before her, but rather as if there were nothing at all. This sort of pissed Frank off. He seriously doubted she had anything more important to do than attend to him. Probably on facebook. He thought, annoyed, and before he had given it much consideration, leaned forward to tap on her desk. She looked up, and her expression informed Frank that no-one had ever done that to her before. "Can I help you..?" She asked, bossy-bitch attitude shining through. How is it that everyone who works in every office of every high school in America is the same person? Frank asked himself, simultaneously answering her question. "Yes, you may. I was wondering why I am here and also I would like you to help me get out of here. Also, I'm new and this is my first day." The woman looked about as miffed as her gigantic face would allow.
"You're in here for smoking tobacco and littering. You can leave once you've spoken to the principal. Welcome to Bellevue High School, Mr.--" "Iero. Where is the principal now?" At this point she had presumably had enough with his sass. "That will be all, Mr. Iero. Please sit quietly until it is your turn." It was all he could do not to burst out "BUT THERE IS NO-ONE ELSE IN LINE!" So he just his mouth. Man, what a bad mood he was in. And Sally Struthers over here wasn't doing him any fucking favors. As he sat, brooding, a door a bit down the hall from the office opened and he looked up from his twiddling thumbs. From the door came the stern woman who had dragged him inside. She was followed by a boy who looked to be about Frank's age. He was a good four inches taller than Frank (who stood at about 5'5"), with mussed, chin-length black hair. He was pale, almost translucent, especially in his face, which was set by thick-lashed hazel eyes and prominent brows. He had a small, pixielike nose, which was accentuated by a pair of thin lips, currently drawn into a grimace.
Immediately, Frank was transfixed. The boy, whose eyes had been wandering, suddenly fixed on Frank, and their gazes locked. Frank didn't know what to do, and suddenly his brain kicked into overdrive. Isn't it weak to break eye contact first? Is this creepy? Why am I worried if it's creepy? And so on like that until the woman barked his name and he was pulled from his trance. Almost as if he had been alarmed by the sudden noise as well, the other boy looked away from Frank. Frank directed his attention (mostly) to the principal, understanding somewhat that she expected him to get up and go to her office. He looked back to the other boy and received a tiny smile in return. The smile felt like a secret and Frank wanted desperately to put it in his pocket. Instead he did as he was instructed and listened just enough to catch the woman saying, "Thank you for your time and patience, Mr. Way. Please don't let it happen again." After that, Frank was shut into a room that smelled like old butterscotch hard candies and looked to be about as moldy. Though being sent to the principal's office on his first day was quite a legendary accomplishment and Frank was a bit smug about it, he couldn't help but wish it had been for something cooler than smoking. Everybody smoked, for chrissake!
She seated herself in a rolling office chair behind a desk which may have once been brown but now appeared to have been bleached to a most unattractive beige by the fluorescent lights. Frank met her eyes and she started in on her lecture. "Mr. Iero, I presume? Welcome to Bellevue High School. First of all, here is a copy of your schedule. Second of all, and more importantly, it is extremely imperative that you refrain from consuming tobacco products on campus, here at Bellevue High we..." And then he tuned out, his thoughts oscillating between the gaze of the black-haired boy and the fact that his principal's name was Ms. Aspleaf. (That shit writes itself. He thought.) By the time she had finished her spiel and he had his schedule in hand he was almost entirely dazed. She sent him out the door with a stern warning, which he forgot almost immediately, about the dangers of cigarettes.
All this and class hadn't even started yet. It's going to be a long fuckin' day.
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