Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Frank's Only Friend
"Please! Please, let me in!" cried Frank, banging on the locked door with his clenched fists and crying out his eyes all along. Gerard wanted to annoy and upset him more than ever, so he didn't say anything.
Before long, Frank figured that nothing was going to work. Love/apology letters through the letterbox, songs, gifts...
He had to live somewhere. He couldn't face the guilt of living with Mikey, and he shuddered to think about crawling back to his parents. They wouldn't take him back anyway, and even if they did, they'd probably yell at him, telling him that they knew Gerard was a bad person, or something like that. But that's what really hurt Frank - Gerard wasn't a bad person, he was just vengeful. Frank was the bad person, and he deserved everything he got.
"Er-erm, I-I j-j-just g-got k-kicked outta my home, a-and I-I-I need a p-place to stay for a while..." stuttered Frank to the man living in the house next to Gerard.
"Look, I can't really help you... sorry, kid."
"Th-that's OK, I-I'll ask someone else..."
And he did. In fact, he asked 53 random, busy strangers if he could stay at their houses for a while until he could find somewhere decent to stay. But none of them said yes.
"At least I still have my job..." Frank muttered to himself, running through the city in an attempt to find a cheap hotel. "Dammit, Gee still has my phone..."
Frank couldn't find any hotel. No phone, no food, no drink, no house or place to sleep... no boyfriend...
Figuring he wouldn't be the perfect employee from tomorrow onwards, he decided to rush over to the crappy burger joint and leave a note on the door for his boss to see tomorrow. Using an old, nearly out-of-ink green Sharpie and a greasy napkin stained with stale chip and rancid burger grease he found in the bin, he wrote...
"I might not be at work a lot of the time because I'm now homeless and I still have to find a place to stay and food to eat (Long story). I'll try my best to show up, but I can't guarantee anything.
Frank"
He used an old plaster with blood still staining it as tape to stick the note to the cracked, glass door and walked away to find a "comfortable" park bench to sleep on. As he reached the other side of the road, Frank bumped into his giant boss, as he had his head down and he wasn't looking where he was going.
"Oh, s-s-sorry, I-I wasn't looking where I was -"
Before Frank could finish his explanation, the larger man put his huge, pudgy hand on the top of Frank's head, pushing him to the side and walking over to the door to read the sorry excuse for a note Frank had written and stuck to the door. The plaster fluttered down to the concrete ground below as the note was grabbed by Frank's boss.
"Might not be at work a lot of the time, homeless, place to stay, food to eat, can't guarantee anything..." he mumbled incomprehensibly and under his breath. "FRANK, IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BE AT WORK, THERE'S NO POINT IN GIVING YOU A JOB!"
"Oh, God, am-am I fired?" stuttered Frank nervously.
"YES, YOU'RE FUCKING FIRED!" yelled his boss.
"L-look, I'll show up every day! I promise!" stammered Frank, whose legs and fingers were shaking and trembling out of fear.
"I DON'T CARE, COCKSUCKER! YOU'RE FIRED AND THAT'S THE END OF IT!" declared his boss. Frank couldn't see himself winning this war. Fuckin' feudal system.
"Don't call me that, I'm a-"
"I KNOW, FAGGEDY ANDY! YOU'RE A FUCKING QUEER, I KNOW! I SAW YOU AND YOUR GAY BOYFRIEND KISSING LIKE ROMEO AND ROMEO OUTSIDE MY RESTAURANT A WHILE BACK, AND IT WAS FUCKING DISGUSTING!"
"W-w-what's wrong with-"
"EVERYTHING! IT'S A CRIME AGAINST NATURE!"
Frank felt a tear forming in his hazel-brown eye. It crept out through the corner of his eye and rolled down the light crease inbetween his cheek and his nose.
"FUCKING WIMP!" exploded his boss, spitting on Frank's face, making him squint and take a step back. The large, monsterous man stormed off, and Frank sobbed uncontrollably, jumping (Well, tripping) over the fence behind him, so he was standing in a run-down, old park.
"...This'll do..." sighed Frank, trudging over to the slide and crouching in the shadowed, shady area underneath it.
He curled up into a ball, shaking and crying, and his teardrops fell into the drug-infested sand that was probably about 25% cocaine. He sang sadly to himself...
"Just sleep..."
And he did.
Frank fell asleep in a fucking hellhole.
Before long, Frank figured that nothing was going to work. Love/apology letters through the letterbox, songs, gifts...
He had to live somewhere. He couldn't face the guilt of living with Mikey, and he shuddered to think about crawling back to his parents. They wouldn't take him back anyway, and even if they did, they'd probably yell at him, telling him that they knew Gerard was a bad person, or something like that. But that's what really hurt Frank - Gerard wasn't a bad person, he was just vengeful. Frank was the bad person, and he deserved everything he got.
"Er-erm, I-I j-j-just g-got k-kicked outta my home, a-and I-I-I need a p-place to stay for a while..." stuttered Frank to the man living in the house next to Gerard.
"Look, I can't really help you... sorry, kid."
"Th-that's OK, I-I'll ask someone else..."
And he did. In fact, he asked 53 random, busy strangers if he could stay at their houses for a while until he could find somewhere decent to stay. But none of them said yes.
"At least I still have my job..." Frank muttered to himself, running through the city in an attempt to find a cheap hotel. "Dammit, Gee still has my phone..."
Frank couldn't find any hotel. No phone, no food, no drink, no house or place to sleep... no boyfriend...
Figuring he wouldn't be the perfect employee from tomorrow onwards, he decided to rush over to the crappy burger joint and leave a note on the door for his boss to see tomorrow. Using an old, nearly out-of-ink green Sharpie and a greasy napkin stained with stale chip and rancid burger grease he found in the bin, he wrote...
"I might not be at work a lot of the time because I'm now homeless and I still have to find a place to stay and food to eat (Long story). I'll try my best to show up, but I can't guarantee anything.
Frank"
He used an old plaster with blood still staining it as tape to stick the note to the cracked, glass door and walked away to find a "comfortable" park bench to sleep on. As he reached the other side of the road, Frank bumped into his giant boss, as he had his head down and he wasn't looking where he was going.
"Oh, s-s-sorry, I-I wasn't looking where I was -"
Before Frank could finish his explanation, the larger man put his huge, pudgy hand on the top of Frank's head, pushing him to the side and walking over to the door to read the sorry excuse for a note Frank had written and stuck to the door. The plaster fluttered down to the concrete ground below as the note was grabbed by Frank's boss.
"Might not be at work a lot of the time, homeless, place to stay, food to eat, can't guarantee anything..." he mumbled incomprehensibly and under his breath. "FRANK, IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BE AT WORK, THERE'S NO POINT IN GIVING YOU A JOB!"
"Oh, God, am-am I fired?" stuttered Frank nervously.
"YES, YOU'RE FUCKING FIRED!" yelled his boss.
"L-look, I'll show up every day! I promise!" stammered Frank, whose legs and fingers were shaking and trembling out of fear.
"I DON'T CARE, COCKSUCKER! YOU'RE FIRED AND THAT'S THE END OF IT!" declared his boss. Frank couldn't see himself winning this war. Fuckin' feudal system.
"Don't call me that, I'm a-"
"I KNOW, FAGGEDY ANDY! YOU'RE A FUCKING QUEER, I KNOW! I SAW YOU AND YOUR GAY BOYFRIEND KISSING LIKE ROMEO AND ROMEO OUTSIDE MY RESTAURANT A WHILE BACK, AND IT WAS FUCKING DISGUSTING!"
"W-w-what's wrong with-"
"EVERYTHING! IT'S A CRIME AGAINST NATURE!"
Frank felt a tear forming in his hazel-brown eye. It crept out through the corner of his eye and rolled down the light crease inbetween his cheek and his nose.
"FUCKING WIMP!" exploded his boss, spitting on Frank's face, making him squint and take a step back. The large, monsterous man stormed off, and Frank sobbed uncontrollably, jumping (Well, tripping) over the fence behind him, so he was standing in a run-down, old park.
"...This'll do..." sighed Frank, trudging over to the slide and crouching in the shadowed, shady area underneath it.
He curled up into a ball, shaking and crying, and his teardrops fell into the drug-infested sand that was probably about 25% cocaine. He sang sadly to himself...
"Just sleep..."
And he did.
Frank fell asleep in a fucking hellhole.
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