Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Twenty-One Letters Ending in T
Chapter 4.
1 review“Well, well, Frank Iero. Twenty-one letters ending in T” She breathed. Frank cocked his eyebrow. “Who,” She began, as she took the beer offered by the redhead, “would have guessed it?...
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Gerard winked at Escher as they finished up /Welcome to the Black Parade/, she was standing behind the mixing desk in the studio watching the recording.
“The guys want to make that their first single” Brian explained.
“It’s amazing” Escher agreed as she grinned back at Gerard.
She had been working for My Chemical Romance for three weeks now, and they had just started recording their new album, the album, the one that would show the music world everything they had to offer.
Escher sighed inwardly as Frank walked past her coldly, not bothering to speak to her like the other guys did. He had taken to ignoring her, and if there was one thing Escher Drake didn’t like, it was being ignored. Perhaps he remembered that from Queen of Peace.
“Frank” She called out as he was about to exit the room.
He turned to face her, a question in his eyes.
“Can I please speak with you in my office before you leave today?”
Escher sat at her desk, with a range of papers spread out around her. On top of the pile was a conceptual picture given to her by Gerard, he had sketched the band on stage as he imagined it, performing the new album. She smiled at the outfits Gerard had taken over designing, they reminded her of the marching band costumes from her high school, and her own short lived time as a baton twirler in that marching band.
She and Gerard had shared a pitcher of coffee at Canary the week before as he explained everything he and the guys were putting behind the Black Parade album and Escher was determined to come up with a marketing strategy that would blow their minds.
A website, she thought suddenly, something mysterious – like a puzzle – with pieces you had to put together to meet the patient and learn about his memories, about Mother War, Fear and Death. She began scribbling frantically in the large notebook she was using for all of her ideas. It was already half full. She scribbled constantly. Of course it wasn’t all work related, she wrote down everything that came into her head, she had for as long as she could remember. When her life ended, whoever was left to pick up the pieces could go to the top of her cupboard and pull out boxes and boxes of notebooks filled with her chicken scratch handwriting. There were poems, snippets of stories, jokes she’d heard, the tail end of conversations she had on her phone while there was pen and paper in front her, pieces of conversations. It was a habit, one she didn’t care to give up either.
She felt her face grow warm as she thought of how many of those pages contained Frank, his name, things he’d said, even little cartoons of him when she had taken to drawing anime pictures. How could all of those days, those words, those looks be discounted so completely by him?
Escher stared at her office door at five o’clock on the dot, which seemed to be rattling in its frames despite the silence reverberating around the room. A quick check of the clock on the wall told her that it was time for her to go. She almost groaned in frustration. She thought that she may as well duck out early as it was completely apparent that Frank was not going to show up. She quickly packed her bag and shut off her computer.
Deciding to ditch the evening traffic and leave her car at the office, she hailed a cab in front of the office and directed it to Canary. The guys had seemed to make it their second home recently, even Frank, though he never sought her out. It made sense, if she wasn’t at the office she was at Canary. Besides, they were amongst good company here, despite the chilled out surrounds and 1920s theme, her other career assured a steady stream of past clients, including Fall Out Boy/, /Avenged Sevenfold and /Escape the Fate/.
She greeted Sarah with a hug and kiss when she arrived and headed out the back to get changed. It would most likely be a slow night, gearing up for the gala they had been planning on Saturday. Keeping in line with the 1920s theme there would be flowing champagne, gin and cancan dancers. She fluffed up her hair that she had curled that morning. When it wasn’t a theme night everybody worked in their blacks, and she was buttoning the last buttons on her black shirt when there was a knock on the office door.
“Come in” She called out as she bent down to lace up her docs.
Frank’s head appeared around the door, his eyebrow cocked.
“You said to come and see you?”
Escher’s eyes widened before she smirked wryly, waving him in.
“I did mean at the office”
He looked sheepish for a moment.
“Yeah we were…held up and I…sorry, I just figured that you would be here”
Escher waved for him to sit down as she shuffled her shit back into her bag.
“Thanks Frank”
“What’s up?” He asked coolly, settling himself in the chair he dragged up to the desk.
“Jamia” She leaned back to observe his reaction, knowing it wouldn’t be great.
He frowned and his face seemed to
darken. Escher knew it had only been a matter of months (and barely) since they had broken up, that she was treading on uncertain ground.
“Yes?” His voice sounded strangled, as though he was having to force it.
“Frank I’m not trying to butt into your life, but as I’m your legal counsel I need to talk to you about this. You and Jamia co-own Skeleton Crew, we need to sort something out”
“What is there to sort out?”
“Well…”
“No, fuck this Escher! This is my life, I don’t care who you are or what you are, this is my life and I’ll sort it out”
He stood up abruptly.
“Frank!” She called to his back as he stormed out of the office.
He turned, his face boiling with rage.
“You know what? You might have been the Belleville Princess when we were growing up with your perfect grades and packed lunches and perfect family, but that doesn’t mean that you still dictate people’s lives Escher”
She stepped back from the vitriole spewing from between his full lips.
“Frank,” She began, recovering her voice, “I don’t know what you think my life was like when we were growing up but…”
“Fuck you Escher”
And with the slam of the door he was gone.
Escher couldn’t get Frank’s face out of her mind, even as she brushed out her hair in preparation for dinner the following night. Thank goodness she hadn’t had to deal with him at Reprise that day.
“Another dinner?” Laszlow crowed from her bedroom door.
“Not like you think” Escher replied with a smirk before her face turned murderous, “Sarah!” She screamed, waiting to hear the frantic footfalls of her colleague as she too arrived in the doorway, a pair of black stilletto’s dangling from between the fingers of her left hand.
“What have I told you about stealing my shoes?” Escher asked sternly.
Sarah visibly gulped before the stroked the soft leather.
“But they’re sooooo pretty” She moaned.
“Whatever,” Escher muttered as she daintily strapped the Manolo’s to her tiny feet, “You’re not even the same size as me”
“Please, a ten year old child doesn’t have feet as small as you, that doesn’t mean I can’t look at them all night and imagine getting a pay rise that could mean I could buy them” She finished hopefully.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath on that pay rise”
The doorbell sounded and Laszlow crossed to answer it.
“E!” He cried, “your car’s here”
Escher tugged on her long black trench-coat and swept out of the apartment.
She stood in the foyer of Masa, on the upper Westside, smirking at the irony of wearing her favourite shoes to a restauarant where she would dine barefoot.
“Drake, party of two” She told the petite woman at the counter.
“Ah yes, your friend he has arrived already, follow me please” said Saiyuki.
Escher followed her through the restaurant, stopping only to return a wave from Max Green who she hadn’t even known was in the city. Hmmm, she’d dropped the ball on that one.
Finally Saiyuki showed her to a secluded booth where her dining partner sat in his regular attire of a black suit and sunglasses. He grinned when he saw her.
“E”
“Hey Gee” She greeted him with a similar grin.
Frank followed the tiny maitre di through Masa, she was leading he and Pete to a chair at the bar where they were meeting Max, but something in his peripheral vision made him stop and turn. Seated in one of the private alcoves was Escher Drake…with Gerard. He cocked his head as his blood ran cold. He watched as she smiled at Gee and shook her head slightly, touching his hand on the table top. He shook his head and closed his eyes, but when he opened them the image was the same.
Well there went his appetite.
“The guys want to make that their first single” Brian explained.
“It’s amazing” Escher agreed as she grinned back at Gerard.
She had been working for My Chemical Romance for three weeks now, and they had just started recording their new album, the album, the one that would show the music world everything they had to offer.
Escher sighed inwardly as Frank walked past her coldly, not bothering to speak to her like the other guys did. He had taken to ignoring her, and if there was one thing Escher Drake didn’t like, it was being ignored. Perhaps he remembered that from Queen of Peace.
“Frank” She called out as he was about to exit the room.
He turned to face her, a question in his eyes.
“Can I please speak with you in my office before you leave today?”
Escher sat at her desk, with a range of papers spread out around her. On top of the pile was a conceptual picture given to her by Gerard, he had sketched the band on stage as he imagined it, performing the new album. She smiled at the outfits Gerard had taken over designing, they reminded her of the marching band costumes from her high school, and her own short lived time as a baton twirler in that marching band.
She and Gerard had shared a pitcher of coffee at Canary the week before as he explained everything he and the guys were putting behind the Black Parade album and Escher was determined to come up with a marketing strategy that would blow their minds.
A website, she thought suddenly, something mysterious – like a puzzle – with pieces you had to put together to meet the patient and learn about his memories, about Mother War, Fear and Death. She began scribbling frantically in the large notebook she was using for all of her ideas. It was already half full. She scribbled constantly. Of course it wasn’t all work related, she wrote down everything that came into her head, she had for as long as she could remember. When her life ended, whoever was left to pick up the pieces could go to the top of her cupboard and pull out boxes and boxes of notebooks filled with her chicken scratch handwriting. There were poems, snippets of stories, jokes she’d heard, the tail end of conversations she had on her phone while there was pen and paper in front her, pieces of conversations. It was a habit, one she didn’t care to give up either.
She felt her face grow warm as she thought of how many of those pages contained Frank, his name, things he’d said, even little cartoons of him when she had taken to drawing anime pictures. How could all of those days, those words, those looks be discounted so completely by him?
Escher stared at her office door at five o’clock on the dot, which seemed to be rattling in its frames despite the silence reverberating around the room. A quick check of the clock on the wall told her that it was time for her to go. She almost groaned in frustration. She thought that she may as well duck out early as it was completely apparent that Frank was not going to show up. She quickly packed her bag and shut off her computer.
Deciding to ditch the evening traffic and leave her car at the office, she hailed a cab in front of the office and directed it to Canary. The guys had seemed to make it their second home recently, even Frank, though he never sought her out. It made sense, if she wasn’t at the office she was at Canary. Besides, they were amongst good company here, despite the chilled out surrounds and 1920s theme, her other career assured a steady stream of past clients, including Fall Out Boy/, /Avenged Sevenfold and /Escape the Fate/.
She greeted Sarah with a hug and kiss when she arrived and headed out the back to get changed. It would most likely be a slow night, gearing up for the gala they had been planning on Saturday. Keeping in line with the 1920s theme there would be flowing champagne, gin and cancan dancers. She fluffed up her hair that she had curled that morning. When it wasn’t a theme night everybody worked in their blacks, and she was buttoning the last buttons on her black shirt when there was a knock on the office door.
“Come in” She called out as she bent down to lace up her docs.
Frank’s head appeared around the door, his eyebrow cocked.
“You said to come and see you?”
Escher’s eyes widened before she smirked wryly, waving him in.
“I did mean at the office”
He looked sheepish for a moment.
“Yeah we were…held up and I…sorry, I just figured that you would be here”
Escher waved for him to sit down as she shuffled her shit back into her bag.
“Thanks Frank”
“What’s up?” He asked coolly, settling himself in the chair he dragged up to the desk.
“Jamia” She leaned back to observe his reaction, knowing it wouldn’t be great.
He frowned and his face seemed to
darken. Escher knew it had only been a matter of months (and barely) since they had broken up, that she was treading on uncertain ground.
“Yes?” His voice sounded strangled, as though he was having to force it.
“Frank I’m not trying to butt into your life, but as I’m your legal counsel I need to talk to you about this. You and Jamia co-own Skeleton Crew, we need to sort something out”
“What is there to sort out?”
“Well…”
“No, fuck this Escher! This is my life, I don’t care who you are or what you are, this is my life and I’ll sort it out”
He stood up abruptly.
“Frank!” She called to his back as he stormed out of the office.
He turned, his face boiling with rage.
“You know what? You might have been the Belleville Princess when we were growing up with your perfect grades and packed lunches and perfect family, but that doesn’t mean that you still dictate people’s lives Escher”
She stepped back from the vitriole spewing from between his full lips.
“Frank,” She began, recovering her voice, “I don’t know what you think my life was like when we were growing up but…”
“Fuck you Escher”
And with the slam of the door he was gone.
Escher couldn’t get Frank’s face out of her mind, even as she brushed out her hair in preparation for dinner the following night. Thank goodness she hadn’t had to deal with him at Reprise that day.
“Another dinner?” Laszlow crowed from her bedroom door.
“Not like you think” Escher replied with a smirk before her face turned murderous, “Sarah!” She screamed, waiting to hear the frantic footfalls of her colleague as she too arrived in the doorway, a pair of black stilletto’s dangling from between the fingers of her left hand.
“What have I told you about stealing my shoes?” Escher asked sternly.
Sarah visibly gulped before the stroked the soft leather.
“But they’re sooooo pretty” She moaned.
“Whatever,” Escher muttered as she daintily strapped the Manolo’s to her tiny feet, “You’re not even the same size as me”
“Please, a ten year old child doesn’t have feet as small as you, that doesn’t mean I can’t look at them all night and imagine getting a pay rise that could mean I could buy them” She finished hopefully.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath on that pay rise”
The doorbell sounded and Laszlow crossed to answer it.
“E!” He cried, “your car’s here”
Escher tugged on her long black trench-coat and swept out of the apartment.
She stood in the foyer of Masa, on the upper Westside, smirking at the irony of wearing her favourite shoes to a restauarant where she would dine barefoot.
“Drake, party of two” She told the petite woman at the counter.
“Ah yes, your friend he has arrived already, follow me please” said Saiyuki.
Escher followed her through the restaurant, stopping only to return a wave from Max Green who she hadn’t even known was in the city. Hmmm, she’d dropped the ball on that one.
Finally Saiyuki showed her to a secluded booth where her dining partner sat in his regular attire of a black suit and sunglasses. He grinned when he saw her.
“E”
“Hey Gee” She greeted him with a similar grin.
Frank followed the tiny maitre di through Masa, she was leading he and Pete to a chair at the bar where they were meeting Max, but something in his peripheral vision made him stop and turn. Seated in one of the private alcoves was Escher Drake…with Gerard. He cocked his head as his blood ran cold. He watched as she smiled at Gee and shook her head slightly, touching his hand on the table top. He shook his head and closed his eyes, but when he opened them the image was the same.
Well there went his appetite.
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