Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Frank's Only Friend
Frank walked home from work that night feeling frustrated. He had just said no to Gerard when he offered to hang out. The one person who actually wanted to be his friend asked him to hang out with him, and he turned him down. He knew his parents would kill him if he didn't come straight home, but he so, so, so wanted to see Gerard. If he had just said yes, he could've got to know more about the charming man - he could even tell him how he felt about him...
Nah. Bit too early on for that, anyways.
When he got home, put his key in the rusty, metal lock that had turned from a shimmering silver to a crusty orange-brown, turned the key (Which was a bit difficult as it often got stuck in the crappy lock), opened the red door with the paint peeling off it in small, thin chunks and walked inside, he trudged nervously and anxiously into the kitchen where his parents were talking and stuttered to them "M-mum, Dad, I-I need to ask you ab-bout someth-thing..."
"Oh, what is it now, Frank?" replied his mother harshly, putting a bit of an angry emphasis on his name.
"Yes, Frank," added his father, putting the same amount of emphasis on his name as his mother did. "Your mother and I are TRYING to have a conversation!"
"W-well..." stammered Frank.
(Bravo, Frank. Bravo, indeed. 50 points to you for confidence.) he thought to himself.
"And stop stammering!" yelled his mother, somewhat impatiently.
"W-we - ahem - well, I was just wondering if tomorrow I could see a friend after work?" replied Frank, with a trembling, slight smile and huge, puppy-dog eyes that sparkled a little with hopefulness.
...
His parents looked at each other with slightly angry faces for exactly a second before his mother yelled "Absolutely not! We expect you home from work by EXACTLY 10 past 6!"
"Yeah, Frank!" shouted his father, putting on that rather annoying and quite hurtful emphasis again. "Besides, since when does a stupid, little urchin like you have any friends!?"
Ow. That hurt. He'd been yelled at in his time, but he'd never been insulted that much. Especially not by his father. That actually fucking hurt.
"W-well, what about on Saturday? O-or Sunday?" whimpered Frank helplessly, trying to contain his stammers and stutters.
The argument between Frank, Satan and his jackal wife raged on for about 45 minutes. By this time, Satan's veins were pumping with rage all over his body, the jackal's eyes were bloodshot and Frank's cheeks were stained with salty tears of sadness, worry, fear and shock. The only reason the argument ended is because Frank's parents decided they needed some time away from the son they hated so much.
It was official. Frank was going to see Gerard on Saturday.
(Well done, Frank! 50 points for winning, and another 50 points for those awesome, metaphorical and fitting portrayals of your parents!)
Nah. Bit too early on for that, anyways.
When he got home, put his key in the rusty, metal lock that had turned from a shimmering silver to a crusty orange-brown, turned the key (Which was a bit difficult as it often got stuck in the crappy lock), opened the red door with the paint peeling off it in small, thin chunks and walked inside, he trudged nervously and anxiously into the kitchen where his parents were talking and stuttered to them "M-mum, Dad, I-I need to ask you ab-bout someth-thing..."
"Oh, what is it now, Frank?" replied his mother harshly, putting a bit of an angry emphasis on his name.
"Yes, Frank," added his father, putting the same amount of emphasis on his name as his mother did. "Your mother and I are TRYING to have a conversation!"
"W-well..." stammered Frank.
(Bravo, Frank. Bravo, indeed. 50 points to you for confidence.) he thought to himself.
"And stop stammering!" yelled his mother, somewhat impatiently.
"W-we - ahem - well, I was just wondering if tomorrow I could see a friend after work?" replied Frank, with a trembling, slight smile and huge, puppy-dog eyes that sparkled a little with hopefulness.
...
His parents looked at each other with slightly angry faces for exactly a second before his mother yelled "Absolutely not! We expect you home from work by EXACTLY 10 past 6!"
"Yeah, Frank!" shouted his father, putting on that rather annoying and quite hurtful emphasis again. "Besides, since when does a stupid, little urchin like you have any friends!?"
Ow. That hurt. He'd been yelled at in his time, but he'd never been insulted that much. Especially not by his father. That actually fucking hurt.
"W-well, what about on Saturday? O-or Sunday?" whimpered Frank helplessly, trying to contain his stammers and stutters.
The argument between Frank, Satan and his jackal wife raged on for about 45 minutes. By this time, Satan's veins were pumping with rage all over his body, the jackal's eyes were bloodshot and Frank's cheeks were stained with salty tears of sadness, worry, fear and shock. The only reason the argument ended is because Frank's parents decided they needed some time away from the son they hated so much.
It was official. Frank was going to see Gerard on Saturday.
(Well done, Frank! 50 points for winning, and another 50 points for those awesome, metaphorical and fitting portrayals of your parents!)
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