Frank, Frank, Frank. No matter how many times I said his name I always got goose bumps. It was therapy, he was my therapy. Not that he would ever realise how much his smile lightened up my day, how every time he giggled the beast inside of me wanted to pull him closer to me and smother him, no. This would never ever happen. This was the fault of one boy, and one boy only. Oli Sykes.
How many fucking times I have seen him checking Frank out and hugging him in the corridor and saving him a seat at lunch. Oli loved Frank, and I think Frank knew, or at least had some idea that there was something up, because he put up with it. Not that I didn't try to do these things whenever I could. It was like the 3rd grade all over again and we were bitter enemies over the fact he had stolen my crayon in art. Only Frank was now that crayon and he was my favourite colour.
I walked into the lunchroom, later than usual so today's competition had been missed and there was Oli, sitting at that table with Frank and his other friends munching away on whatever homemade crap his rich mother had made him this time. I passed his house every single day and sometimes I even had the pleasure of watching him jump into his big fancy car along with his dutiful mother who drives him the ten blocks to school whilst I must walk. The story of my life. And here in school I was only reminded of the things he had that I wanted, not only a mother who cares, but Frank. Why god did he have to love Frank? For some funny reason he hadn't told Frank yet, but I could only assume time would eliminate that factor and soon he and Frank would be an item, haunting my classrooms with their new found love. God doesn't it make your insides burn?
I should probably properly introduce myself. My name is Gerard Way and I live in hell. Well not really but personal hell anyway. I only come to school for two reasons (bet you can guess one already). The first is Frank, until the day Oli grabs him I will be here trying ever so hard to not let that happen, and the second is Art. Yes I am an Art geek, don't you just love it, oh and I like writing...and music. But doesn't it just sound cooler to say I only come for two things? Makes me seem less of a geek!
Frank is amazing, not only is he insanely hot, he is the most genuinely kind person you have ever met and I have loved him ever since kindergarten, and yes that is possible.
It was the first day of school and I had accidentally spilled Billy Corgans milk at snack time. All the kids know not to do this....I am just so stupid. I run down the side alleyway by the church's back door and he plunders after me, though he is rather fat so the run takes his toll, he is still gonna kill me. I trip and fall by the door of the church and I twist my ankle (how obvious). Billy catches up to me and spits in my face because he is a nasty kindergarten kid! He is about to get me when suddenly someone shouts from behind. It's hard to see who it is because of the spit in my eye and I don't recognise the voice.
"Billy what the hell?!" I can hear them, it sounds like an angel to me, but hell they are saving me so I'm allowed to sound weird!
"The kid spilled my milk, no offence Frank but this aint your battle!" Billy shows a lot of respect for him usually by the sound of it, he's never that formal. But the Frank kid hasn't left. I can see his blurry image, rooted by the open door. His silhouette is backed onto a background of flickering candles (angel anyone?).
"Sorry Billy, you've gone to far with this, leave it, this isn't worth it man I will have to turn you in for this one." at this Billy swears and fucks of, I can tell he's running because only he can make the ground shake so that trees are afraid.
The Frank kid (angel in my point of view) is not so blurry anymore because I actually got a chance to wipe the spit away now. He is short for kindergarten, not majorly but shorter than me, he has browny hair and browny eyes (hey I was a kid, that was how I remembered describing him and it stuck!) and a sweet face. I had always been different. My parents didn't care about me that much, not since Mikey the wonder child was born. More handsome, able to speak and walk early, and at 3 I was basically tossed aside for that kid. Funnily enough, I don't hate him, on the contrary I love him to death. That kid is my best friend in the world and I tell him everything. Even that I'm gay, he doesn't care. Hell he's bi and has a boyfriend at the moment so why would he. Even though he couldn't really understand at such a young age, I remember telling him about my angel who rescued me, whom fought of Billy. My mother overheard and said I was being stupid, but Mikey didn't, he didn't even giggle. But anyway, back to the story.
Frank helped me up and we began walking back to the classroom. He said if I needed help or a friend he was there, I'd quite like to be his friend. So ever since then we were friends, and we still are now.
now our schedules are different and we don't get to hang out much
except for on the weekends, but Oli is usually there too.
Frank just motioned for me to join them, and as I crossed the canteen I saw Oli's face drop, the happiness only momentarily replaced with something else, probably jealousy. Probably not though because I probably imagined it, because when I looked closer he was absorbed in a conversation with his dear friends. They all let out a howl of laughter as I reached the table, Frank didn't laugh though. Oh well, it was probably a joke at my expense and Frank is still kind of my protecting angel in a way. I'm glad.
I got to Art and we had a cover lesson today so we were allowed to do whatever we want. The art teacher described it as creative space, I described it as the teacher was a fucking lazy cow, but hell free art periods...I aint complaining. I set down to work, sketching the outline of a face, I already knew who's. This happened an awful lot, and I mean an AWFUL LOT! But it's not as if I'm hurting anyone...except myself, filling my head with thoughts about the angel I will never have.
After a while I am adding fine details, like his lip ring, the spark in his eyes, the end of his perfectly thin lips curving up into a smile at some unknown source. At the end of the double I carefully add it to my portfolio-i.e. my homage to Frank and begin my walk home. Oh did I mention it's started to rain? No...well now I have. I begin walking out of the school grounds and he just has to catch up with me doesn't he?
I swear every time he's near me I feel lighter, kind of a cross between 'I'm in heaven' and 'You better fricken watch out because I'm gonna hurl!' so now that we have established that. He always walks home with me, not that we ever wait for each other, we just always seem to walk out of the school at the same time. We live like 4 blocks away from each other, so he gets home and I keep walking. Only today guess who stopped and offered him a lift?
Yep, that hot bastard was trying to steal my favourite colour crayon all over again. Only this time, it was personal!