Chapter Text
"So. You heard the rumours?"
"What rumours?"
"About the wierd kid with the black hair?"
"No? What is it?"
"I'm not sure if I should be telling you..."
"No c'mon you can tell me."
"Well... alright. But don't tell anyone."
"I won't tell anyone I promise now c'mon spill."
+++
His heavy boots stomped their way down the corridor, it echoed sin and shot through everyone near him like a bullet. The crowds of cliques all parted ways as he walked down the hallway, his leather trench coat flowing behind as if he were a king. A stone cold glare cut anyone who dared look in his direction, even people with no mocking intention recieved a look so deadly it could kill in an instant. Everyone was his pray, a small victim he toyed with before shredding every ounce of them apart. He ruled these hallways, the whole school was his to manipulate however he pleased. And maybe life wasn't all it should be, never being bothered by petulant teenagers he detested, but maybe being the big bad wolf could get pretty lonely once in a while. Once the little piglets houses have fallen, all he can do is scare the little pigs until he feels some sort of satisfaction. But how can he? If fear is his conquest, who was there left to like him? Because once the three little pigs are dead, ripped apart and buried deep in his growling stomach, starved for entertainment, what was left for him after all that? When school is over, he plunges into this endlessly scopious planet alone and afraid. No where to go and no one to talk to.
So maybe the big bad wolf never wanted to be the big bad wolf. Maybe it was all a mistake that can never be reversed.
And all because of that one stupid rumour.
+++
"It looks foul," Frank scoffed looking at the school through the car window, through the gritty weather. Greying just like the hairs on his mothers head.
"You can't be picky Frank, you were expelled from the last place." His mother sighed, willing her son to just quit complaining and go in.
"It wasn't my fault I was kicked out!" Frank defended.
"Whos was it then? The kids whos teeth you knocked out or the one whos arm you broke?" she retorted, voice strained from stress and exhaustion. Why couldn't she have birthed a more sensible child, she wondered.
"Yes actually. They were both being total dicks, I went easy on him too! Fuckin' pansys." At this, he crossed his arms and threw himself at the car seat, much like a stroppy toddler, that wasn't really the only simalarity though. The movement was a way of him silently refusing to step foot in the grotty building of torture.
"Language," his mother hissed.
Frank sighed, looking at the school again, wishing that it would somehow dissapear and he could just go back to his old school with his friends. But that wouldn't be happening any time soon, so with a heavy sigh he unclicked his seat belt and opened the door, slowly, he wished to drag this moment out as long as he could. Procrastination levels at a new high.
"Don't get yourself in trouble Frank," his mother called, more like pleaded as he said goodbye and shut the door behind him, turning and facing the school. He couldn't promise anything to his mother; he could only hope to not have people try to mess with him. Whether it be for the way he dressed, the way he walked or the way he talked, Frank would pummel them into the ground regardless of their size. He's taken a football captain before- flipped the bastard in the nose which is probably still healing.
The school was made of stone, cold and unnerving to look at, as if it were looking down on him ready to taunt him. 'I dare you' he thought, thinking of the fights he would undoubtedly get himself into no matter what his mother said.
The clouds were sunken, slinking over the school like its very own vail. Earily enough, the clouds only did this near the school, as if so drawn to the schools ominous aura, their life was drained straight from the old building. There was something about the building that made him want to run, not only because it was a place of learning and he was a delinquant "too cool for school", but because it just felt so wrong. Like the school shouldn't be here, be anywhere, it shouldn't stand on planet earth as if it were its home. It didn't belong here.
Despite the shudders running down his spine, he slung his rucksack over his shoulder and strutted into the school, five minutes late because of his protests with his mother in the car. He wished he cared more about that but sadly teachers lecturing him about his near future had no effect on him- the days would come and Frank would live them, who has time to spend those days thinking of the ones yet to come? There was no point in wasting his precious time on this planet thinking of such useless things.
So what if he didn't become a millionaire with a massive house and trophy wife? He was here for a good time not a formal time.
Hesitantly, he walked through the gate and into the main reception where a woman sat looking at her nails in a bored fashion. Her hair was a plain brown, thin and wirey just past her shoulders and framing her wrinkled face. The lines on her face, he thought, must have been from having to work with annoyingly reckless teenagers making life impossible for everyone. And now he was passed the gates he felt slightly suffocated, like there was no going back now- it was official that that was his last day at his old school, and this was his first day at his new school.
Sometimes he regrets the things he does- he thinks 'maybe there was a less violent approach' but quickly rememberes that there is no such thing as a non violent approach.
The woman eventually looked at him, already bored of the interaction they had yet to have with one another. "I'm here for my timetable," he asked as politetly as he could muster without gagging.
"Right, and your name?" she sighed, not caring to hide her blatant boredom. Frank decided he didn't like her.
"Frank iero, i-e-r-o," he replied, spelling out his peculiar last name.
Her false nails tapped against the keyboard, sending rattles of discomfort through his spine as the sound went right through him.
In a moment she was handing him a peice of paper fresh with inked lessons on.
"Thanks," he mumbled, stepping out of the reception area and into the car park, glancing up at the school and wondering how the hell he was going to navigate his way around.
+++
He somehow found his way to english, now having missed around 20 minutes of lesson time. 'Good' he thought.
"And who would you be," the teacher asked as the boy tumbled through the door.
"Frank Iero," he responded calmly, ignoring all the eyes pointedly staring at him.
"The new kid? Okay go take a seat anywhere," she sighed, messing around with the computer to do whatever it is teachers do on their computers.
After she spoke, his eyes scanned over the mostly crowded room. Their were few empty seats. One of which was by some kid who looked like he didn't shower and was, from what Frank could see, missing a few teeth. Another was by a girl who was madly scribbling on her arm with a slightly crazed look on her expression, and the last one was by a boy heavily draped in black clothing. He opted for the emo kid, afraid the others would try to make conversation with him, or from the look of them, eat him. Nothing was more anti-social than a kid sat at the back paying no mind to the lesson and made up in black attire. Hopefully.
Before he made an idiot of himself by standing by the door far too long, he shuffled to the back of the room and took his seat. He pulled a pen out of bag and looked back up to see all wide eyes on him, some even with their jaws hanging open.
They looked almost shocked.
"What?" He barked. They all turned back around in their seats and carried on doing whatever work they had been set without bothering him after that.
He realised he had no idea what work he was supposed to be doing right then but decided not to alert the teacher of this. He instead rested his head on his hands and wished sleep to take him for a few minutes. Of course he couldn't, because he still felt a few stares being directed at him from all around the room. Seriously, what was with them?
"Freaks," he muttered, momentarily forgetting about the boy he had sat next to until he noticed his eyes flick up and meet his. Frank leaned back in his chair, admiring the boy from a new angle that wasnt in a panic to sit down before it got awkward.
"I'm Frank," he introduced.
"Yes I heard," the boy muttered, continuing to scribble on his paper. His voice was cold and passive, he obviously didn't wanna talk to him.
It didn't look like he was doing work from where Frank sat, so he leaned forward to find that no, the boy was not doing work. He was instead, drawing a picture of some kind of vampire biting a womans neck.
The kid had talent.
"You're good at drawing," he said, intrigued by the strange kid he had minutes ago not felt the need to talk to.
The boy ignored him, instead just carrying on with his drawing.
'Rude' Frank thought.
He looked down at his jeans next, they were black (of course) and covered in band patches.
"Misfits," he pointed out. Before he could tell the other boy about his own admiration of the band, he was interupted as he turned sharply in his chair in order to face him. His gaze was dark, threatning but something in Frank lured him into wanting to get closer to it.
"Look-" he started, he bit down on his lip wondering how he would word the next bit.
"-if you dont hear it from me you'll simply hear it from someone else- People don't talk to me." His eyes were dark and impossible to read as Frank simply looked at him oddly.
"Why would that be?" He asked with a smirk tugging on his lips.
"You'll find out eventually." The boy replied, eyes downcast on his drawing once again.
He was mysterious and usually that trait always left Frank feeling irratated, but now he was only curious. And he was sure that whatever the reason was would surely not put him off talking to the boy.
But then, Frank heard the reason why no one spoke to the boy in all black at the back of the english room.
Not even an hour later, Frank noticed a huddle of teenagers all whispering and looking at him. It began to get on Franks nerves so he decided to just confront them.
"What the fuck are you looking at," he snapped.
They looked at him wide eyed much like everyone in his english class. Their eyes held a certain fear in them.
And thats when he found out all about Gerard Way.
+++
"They can't be true," Frank exclaimed to his friend. School had been over for an hour and Frank decided to invite his friend over.
They had been friends ever since high school began-well not always 'friends'. Upon their first encounter Frank had stuck his foot out in the hallway and tripped him, the other boy proceeded to punch him square in the jaw. They had ended up with matching black eyes and a matching detention slip.
"This is your fault ya know," Bob had hissed whilst they sat there waiting for the teacher who was supposed to be running detention.
"Whatever," he had laughed, because he was an annoying little rat.
They had sat for five minutes and there was no sign of the teacher so it had been Franks idea to get out of there.
Baring in mind it was only the first day of their high school years, Bob had hissed just like the child he still was "we can't just leave!"
Frank shrugged and left, soon realising the boy rushing over to follow him, and then that developing into them racing out of the school and then all the way back home. Their friendship had developed from that, an unspoken rule that they would sit together at break and lunch and work together in their lessons, allbeit both never paying attention but at least they failed together.
"How can't it?" Bob asked, furrowing his brow in a way that asked for a challenge.
"Because Bob, that is some serious shit. He wouldn't just be walking round the school free as a fucking bird if this was true. I wouldn't be sitting next to him in my english class if it was true." The story of the odd boy had rattled him, as it would anyone in all honesty, and now all the stares made sense. Why everyone looked so shocked that he had sat next to this boy- all added together like a jigsaw puzzle- but at the same time it didn't; non of what he was told could fit together. If it were anyone else other than the soft faced beauty he had sat next to, maybe Frank would have believed these rumours. The person and the alligation just wouldn't match up in Franks head however to the people in that school, Gerard was the monster under every kids bed. He's the joker to everyones batman. He's the stain of terror a nightmare brands you with, and the memory that still feels so real it cuts you like a knife.
"Whatever man. Just don't die. And don't end up fighting anyone over this," Bob sighed, knowing his friend all too well. He knew he'd go out and try and make friends with the most unpopular kid in the year and then defend them with fists and blood. It was just what Frank did, it was like his specialty even though he had gotten expelled. Bob knew full well that being expelled wouldn't change Franks attitude. Nothing could make that boy calm down and not throw a punch.
"Okay okay don't you think my mum tells me this enough," Frank sighed falling back on his bed whilst his friend just grabbed the playstation remote and resumed the game he had been playing.
"Tell me anyway. How did I get kicked out of school and you didn't?" Frank asked, scowling at the back of his friends blonde hair. Bob had also participated in beating many people to a bloody pulp but never seemed to get told off for doing so, it was always Frank.
Bob laughed, "I have my ways," he shrugged.
"You're a bastard. The system is broken," he said dramatically.
"Angsty teen much?"