Fuck you.

Imi place mult cum a iesit urmatorul, desi e in curs:

One

“We’re moving.” Mum announced in a really ‘today-it-was-rainy’ tone to me.

“Fuck you.” I stated, obviously irritated by her. “Fuck you, and also fuck Steve. Why does he have to be around every time? You left him for dad. For fucking dad who loved you! Because of you, my life is a mess. And now you want us to move? Then fuck you. Going off to Steve, are you. Not for your own daughter.” I continued, my throat aching.

“I’m not going off to Steve and you k-” She wanted to comment. To comment back to me. Well, fuck her.

‘Whore.’ I thought.

“Than whom are you going off to? Auntie Barbara? Oh, wait. She’s dead.” I grinned like hell in my own mind. Go you, Jess. “Where are we going to, anyway? And what am I going to do with the week-ends when I was visiting dad?”

“New Jersey. And he’ll come and visit us, anyway.” She knew how to spice things up. I dryly laughed.

“He can’t. He’s broke.” I stated, making her glare at me.

“See, Jessica? That’s why I left him.”

“You are a fucking gold-digger mum. Screw you big time.” I answered, leaving the room and wondering if there’s any My Chemical Romance museum down in Belleville that I can visit.

You see, MCR were this big, big band down in the 06s but the lead singer died so the only the thing they could do is split up – you see, they decided that without Gerard, nothing is worth it. They just split up in 08. When I was 11.

But then Ray got sick, Bob went all mindless and so did Mikey and Frank couldn’t stand it so he snapped into another country. And that’s how My Chemical Romance broke up. It wasn’t so tragic, but I loved them. So, maybe I could visit it.

Oh. I forgot to talk about myself. I’m Jessica Copperfield and I’m from Chicago. I don’t know why mum wants to move us out of this beautiful place that I love (please notice my wonderful big dose of sarcasm), but maybe it’s because of our shitty life with Steve.

Now, I shall tell the story of my life, I suppose? Okay then, here it goes:

I was born on the 6th of October, in a dark night because that’s autumn and all those stuff. My mum didn’t want me, because dad was broke then, too, and then they couldn’t really take care of me but they both loved me so kept me. Okay, until mum found Steve, this co-worker of hers from the office and started dating him. Dad got angry. Fighting. Shout. Tears. Everything you should actually (not) wish for when you are 11 years old. See, then they divorced because Steve promised to take care of me and mum (bummer! The only thing he does is sit in pubs with his old stupid friends or eat cheese cake). I always despised him. He was a very muscular man, tanned and kind of slim – the kind of man I totally despise. The way he was looking at me – I could feel he wanted to be alone with mum. Fuck her, would you? No chance, big boy. Then I started seeing dad only in the weekends, because he was broke and all those stuff and Liz, the social worker, said that this is the best for us. How does she know? Fuck her. We lived like that for many years. I started changing myself. I had friends. But there was this special girl. Mary. We were best lads, Mary and me. But now I’m off to New Jersey – Hopefully Belleville, wandering off, with no one to be there right beside me, because Belleville High’s program is longer. Oh, God. Kill me.

I hate my life, especially as a teenager, because no one understands me. Mum just nods pitifully and I die of anger. Steve just asks ‘Are you okay, Jessica?’ (I hate being called Jessica, it is plain Jess, thank-you-very-much) and I nod even if he knows that I’m not alright. I just wish, wish, wish I could be Miss Luck and wear fancy clothes and have everyone loving me, but it’s not that simple – trust me, the expert is on the phone.

Oh, that thing reminds me of Mary. Such a dreamy girl, I loved her. She had this short brown hair and big brown eyes and chocolate skin and big lips (which I envied her for) and she had these pretty clothes. I loved her. I’m not sure she loved me, but I loved her with all of my heart. But I was depending on her. She wasn’t on me, because she could always have another friend to kiss her toes and call her princess. She was my only friend, but I wasn’t hers. Sometimes I was thinking about her, wondering if she’s with my in pity for me. Because I have no money and stuff and I’m not into fashion, even if I’m 13 and I should be because Mary always said that this is the only way you could get friends. I just nodded, and she smiled to me. Sometimes, I couldn’t even stand her when I had those days. But it was okay.

“Jess, packed already?” a rusty voice came back, making me shiver. ‘Steve.’ I thought.

“Yeah.” I answered, but truly I didn’t really put a finger on that luggage. Because I didn’t give a fuck. But that was going to change, anyway.

Because the stupid, annoying, stressed, un-sleepy and dumb Jessica Copperfield was going to become the queen. And she knew it. I always dreamt these things when I was younger. I was a queen with long, fair hair and I was tall and all the boys had to truly love me so I can go down to them and be their wife but only one prince won my heart – I had a long, pink, dress with wonderful detail and my pajama should my flat stomach and I had a nose stud but still I had wonderful dresses and wore these fancy shoes and my one and only prince was the most charming prince in the world and he loved me and we had this house on a mountain and we enjoyed ourselves – we were rich and we gave money to everyone who needed and everybody loved us and we had 5 babies which we named in alphabetic order and-

“Then get the fuck down!” Oh, little Stevey used a bad word! Hell, I got to hurry up.

Two

“Then get the fuck down!” Oh, little Stevey used a bad word! Hell, I got to hurry up…

Or not. I just got that magic idea that pops up in people’s heads when they most need them. What if I locked myself in my room? And say I couldn’t do it? And put chairs and other shit in front of the door… so we would just call somebody to fix it and then we will just have to leave too late and we will wait one more day but I’ll go to school and when I come back I’ll say I have to do home work. Genius!

So, here I am. Putting chairs and tables and also my bed and other stuff and locking the door. I won’t really sleep tonight, but it is worth it. Because I’m going absolutely no-where. I don’t care if they fuck cows because of me or if they just left without me, I don’t want to be next to them. I want to be with dad, in his old café, with Ms. Janice and Mr. Ron and everyone there – they all knew me and had no problem about me.

Only old dopey momma had a problem, she always said: “Oh, Jessica, I don’t understand you – sitting with poor old people, when you can be rich with us and have fun and friends.” Well, fuck her, dudes. Who cares that I had this white room with cherries everywhere that was clean and smelled of vanilla in mum’s house and I had a small, dopey room at dads. Like I slept much, anyway, at both of them.

Actually, I heard they were fighting before I was born. Mum didn’t want me. Mum wanted a child with a rich man she’d never divorced with. A little blonde child that went to Harvard, because for her, that was worth it. The child would make a very cult family, with lots of traditions and they’ll be rich forever. Too bad she had me, an intelligent child, with long black hair, that was slim and had medium grades – no Harvard for her – with a now broke man. I just hate, hate and hate her. I just wanted to be loved for who I am.

And I hate Steve with all my life. Did I tell you he started smacking me? Maybe sometime he’ll rape me and I’ll report him and he’ll be into jail and mum would regret and then she’ll hug me and tell me it’s all right and he’s a jerk and then she’ll come back to dad who was rich already and I would be perfect and have perfect grades and we’ll be happy forever and ever and-

“I don’t see you’re really hurrying up, much!” A shouting came again, this time from mum. I guess she wanted to convince me.

I didn’t answer. I just went to the window and climbed on the tree, looking at people pass, or wave to me or anything like that. But then I saw Mary. Mary with her stupid little friends: Brandon, Lexis and Benjamin. They were talking. About me.

You see, Mary’s friends always hated me because she gave me attention, too. They just wanted her. And she wanted them too, anyway. They scribbled ‘M+B+L+B=BFF’ on every place they could. Of course, with Mary’s name first, because that’s fancy as hell. I wish mum would stop yelling from downstairs so I could hear what they say. They’re probably talking about me again, bragging and bragging and never stopping of bragging and bragging. Bragging is shit.

So is Brandon. He’s tall and really skinny and always wears straight fit clothes that show off his bones and he has a very big nose and he always speaks very strange and he has black hair and fake scars that he does with spray because he wants to be very hard core.

Lexis isn’t better with anything. She’s obese and her clothes don’t fit her in any way. She always wears ‘The Nightmare before Christmas’ stuff, because she thinks that’s cool, even if she didn’t watch the movie. Her favorite band is The Pussycat Dolls, next coming Shakira.

Benjamin is very fit and muscular and he’s Mary’s boyfriend. She isn’t really in love with him, but whatever. It’s not my business. I’m just describing here. He’s tall and has blue eyes and light-blue hair and he has 5 pierces: 2 in his lips, 1 in his mouth, 1 in his eyebrow and 1 below his lip. All the girls think he’s hot. (Even I had a tiny crush on him, once. Sue me!)

Mum always loved Mary, but not her friends – especially Benjamin. So when she came around, her pals weren’t really there for her so she would just tell me stuff and we would draw or do anything stupid then go to lunch and then she would go home, really pissed that she lost her day. Well, it’s not my fault she’s stupid!

Anyway, mum stopped shouting. I could hear what they were talking. Mary didn’t give a shit about me. And the others encouraged her. I wanted to shout at them, but not until I could hear all the things they would say. When they would decide to leave, I would just shout at them like crazy. That’d be awesome.

“So, Mary, sad that the loser is leaving?” Benjamin asked, while pecking Mary’s lips softly.

“Yeah. I mean, she was such a loser. I was so sorry for her, but I’m glad that she’s finally moving. With her stupid mum who always invited me to dinner – she was so boring!” Mary exclaimed.

“Totally.” Lexis agreed, with her high-pitched voice that you couldn’t hear very well because of her Jack Skellington scarf.

“And she was all so ‘Wanna draw?’ every time we met. It was boring!” Mary added.

“Totally.” Lexis agreed again.

“I just hope we won’t see her again…!”

“Totally.”

Three

“Totally.” God, Lexis was so boring – the only thing she could say was that.

“Did I tell you she smells?” Mary said. They all laughed but shook their heads.

“Yeah, she does. And her mum does, too.” I started getting angry. Mary was a fucking bitch.

“So do you, Mary! You’re such a freaking stupid kid, thinking that you can do everything and anything. Just because I’m not rich? Fuck you.” I then started getting into my room, singing.

Singing relaxed me, but drawing did not. I hated drawing because I had no piece of talent. Even my arts teacher told me. She said I have a... Interesting talent. But I knew she was just polite to make me happy. Oh, I hate this kind of people. Trying not to hurt my feelings, are you? Well, guess what. It’s more of that. You’re making me frustrated, bitch. Well, anyway. I stood with my head on the window again, staring. Still singing, but then a man passed. And I stopped. He asked Mary some stupid shit; they all laughed and pointed to me. The man smiled warmly and asked me:

“Are you the one singing?” I nodded, shyly. But not blushing. I never blush. “You’re brilliant. Can I come?” I shook my head and explained him everything.

He nodded and asked if he could just climb. I shook my shoulders and nodded. What if he was a famous musician? That would be freaking awesome. Just see the newspapers, everyone: “Bullied kid gets superstar at age 13.” I could see myself grinning, then the man in front of me. I could study him freely, now. He looked a lot like Frank Iero at age… 29. Just as he should be now. Or is it more?

“Wow…” was all I could exclaim.

“What’s up?” He asked, and then giggled. I knew that giggle.

“You just seem so much like Frank Iero…” He nodded.

“Don’t tell anyone, but that’s because I am Frank Iero.”

I could barely hold myself. Frank Iero. In my room. In my bed (well, not really. In the place where my bed should be). In my fucking own world! I should’ve known. I should’ve prepared everything. It could’ve been perfect! He probably saw the look in my eyes, and just shook his head.

“You shouldn’t have prepared. It’s not a big deal. So, I heard you don’t want to go to NJ. Why is that? I mean, I see you have your friends down there, but every start should be looked as a new one.”

I started smiling. Then grinning. Then laughing, and ended up in a hysteric laugh, a stomach ache and some tears. He just looked at me, confused. I explained:

“Well, one: You talk like mum. Two: Oh, fuck, you don’t know about them already, do you?” He shook his head and I started explaining with a very big happiness.

“Oh, well, sorry then. I guess I’m just stupid.” He sighed. “Sorry twice. I just miss everyone.” I just looked at him, confused. I didn’t know shit about what just he was saying. I didn’t care. Sue me.

“It’s okay.”

Four

“Okay.” He just looked around, but then grinned. “What?” I asked.

“Why aren’t you packing up?”

“Packing up?”

“You’re going to NJ, are you?”

“Not really, I don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry, but you will.” He took my hand and pushed me out of the window, making me break my leg. He just grinned, probably taking out all my stuff, throwing them out one by one.

I could see what he threw. Well, practically I couldn’t. But I would with these infra-red eyes I just made up. Hey, what if I was a spy? I could have these cool black shiny costumes and red, round glasses and a backpack that had everything I needed – fancy utensils that looked like real make-up stuff. Sorry, I watched too much Totally Spies today.

“Got them?” I could hear Frank ask me, and I looked around. I just yelled a ‘Yes!’ and he nodded and jumped.

“Now, let’s get somewhere, shall we?” He smirked.

“I don’t know… I just don’t feel like I can. It’s not me.”

“It’s okay. I promise I will protect you.”

“Frank, it’s not really that (well, it is, but that’s the second reason) - the thing is I broke my leg while you pushed me.”

“Oh, shish. Well, I guess we should put you in the car and take you to the hospital?”

“I-”

“Jessica Marie! What are you doing? Running away with a total stranger?” I could hear mum’s voice and saw her red puffy eyes. I just rolled mine. Like she cared.

“I guess you’re asking for a good smacking, young lady.” Steve warned. I just shook my shoulders and Frank smiled.

“Hello. I’m Frank Iero, a teacher of Jessica’s. She made it to the English Olympiad. We are taking her to New Jersey, where she’ll probably have to move because of school changes – a very good school wants her and she wants to go. I reckon she didn’t tell you?” Mum shot me a death glare, but then she smiled at Frank and said:

“No, but that’s wonderful. We were moving today to NJ. Just… wonderful.” Steve nodded at me. “Can we take her?”

“Wouldn’t I be taking her, registering her at the school and other stuff?” Frank asked and nodded at me, too.

“Oh, okay.” They both said and left.

I jumped into Frank’s arms while the 4 losers stared. I mouthed ‘Fuck you, people!’ at them and left also with Frank.

Five

“So…”

“So?” Ring-Ring. Ring-Ring. “Oh, answer the fucking phone, Iero!” I snapped. He gave me a confused look. His left eyebrow was raised and his mouth was slightly open. I wondered if his mouth ever watered, but shook my head. He just giggled.

“Well, it’s not my phone, umm…”

“Copperfield. Whose it is then?”

“Yours, probably.” Ring-Ring. I just took the phone out of my pocket and stared at it.

“Yes. Of course. No, not really. Sure. You think so? Well, that’s nice of you. I can’t believe. Just when I left? Oh my God. Well, fuck you anyway. Yeah. Hip you out. Yes, soon. Bye.” I closed the phone with a pretty confused look on my face (I didn’t see it, but I knew it was confused, just don’t mess with me and my opinions). It was Mary. The fucking Mary who was trying to be nice.

Nice fuck, eh? Well, I hate Mary. I hate Mary, I hate Mary, I hate Mary, and she sucks! Well, however. Frank’s got this confused look on himself, too. Like I would tell him who it was, anyway. He was very mean. Well, he wasn't. But I would like to think of him like some sick pervo. Like he was trying to rape me.

That would be fun. I could sue him, too. Just see the titles: "The old rockstar Frank Iero smashes a rape - Confusion or despair?" Oh, Lord. Aren't I great? You could just give me a prize. Everybody would buy the magazine - that would be mine, anyway. And I'll get him into court and just trick everyone that he raped me and I was mentally shocked and hated him and never wanted to touch any man again. Money, money, money!

Excuse me. Too much Abba for one day. Actually, I listened to no Abba. I mean, I listened. But in my head. I played it in my head many times and it was fun because I had this groovy voice that sounded extremely great and I got a CD out and everybody loved it and Frank was still into court and I was still very rich and I got pity of him and got him out and we were best friends forever and we found reincarnations of MCR.

Okay. It was my imagination. But what if we actually did? What if... what if I would meet reincarnations as my school mates? What would happen of me? Of, well, the majority of everyone? Mum? Steve?

Questions, questions, questions. Mary said I always ramble about stupid music and old rockstars and that I should like new stuff too so I could be in the style with everyone - that's how to make friends, remember? That was the fucking way to make friends. Well, not for me. Just for her.

Are You Hunting for Witches?

Momentan nu a ajuns pe Mibba, am doar 2 capitole pregatite. Imi place cum mi-a iesit, acum, recitit. Voi mai edita odata cu capitolele noi... Mi-se pare ceva diferit, ceva ce as vrea sa mentin ca fan-fic. Now, you shall read:

Are you haunting for witches?

E. Nightmare

I

The Big Thing

“Come on, Sara, you’re going to miss the big thing!” Her blue eyes were showing me a great sparkle; her freckles making her look like an angel. I raised one eyebrow playfully, making her look confused.

“Big thing? What big thing?” I asked, giggling. I took her and put her small body in my lap. Her blue dress was everywhere and her blonde hair made me smile even more.

“You know… that thing!!!” She was still confused. What didn’t I understand in all of this? Didn’t I get it? I was going to miss the big thing! I put my finger tip on her nose, smiling.

“What thing?” Now, she was more than just confused. She was angry she couldn’t explain this; angry she couldn’t explain this to herself, angry that, actually, I couldn’t understand this myself- as an adult.

“Come on, Sara! The big thing you’ve been waiting for such a long time!” She stood up, putting her tiny hands on her body, looking very responsible. Her blue Mary Jane’s were a little bit big for her, but she loved them – they had flowers!

“What big thing? I don’t get it!” I acted like I was one of those retarded confused persons and she was very angry about it. I giggled. “Oh… come on, silly! Dad is picking us up. Are you all ready?” She finally looked satisfied.

“Of course. I’ve got everything – plus Linda. Did you know Jamia wants to buy me another Linda?” She was finally excited, remembering about Aunt Jamia and Uncle Frank and how Aunt Jamia is going to buy her another Linda. I already knew that, it would’ve been a surprise, but someone spoiled it – or did she find out alone?

“No, I didn’t. That’s great, is it?” I smiled sweetly, lying. I took her Linda doll, playing with it. “Hello, Foxy! I’m going to have a sister! Isn’t that great?” I faked a doll voice.

“Of course it is! You will sleep with her, and while I am gone she will keep you company!” She answered, over-whelmed about the whole concept of having two Linda’s.

“Will you switch us?” my question saddened her terribly. She didn’t know what to answer. “I meant… will you change our clothes to look alike?” I changed my statement, making her a little thoughtful but happy.

“Of course! You shall have identical clothes so you will be like two sisters!” She was really enthusiastic… of course, that’s before dad came in the scene.

“Hello, baby doll-s… ready for our trip?” He asked, with a cold voice and a forced smile at me. He hated me. I was a mistake.

“Yes, Daddy!” Foxy jumped up and down, left and right, then hugged dad. I walked forward to the car, getting in it. Such an old car – pity I it wasn’t mine. Dad couldn’t take care of the car. Dad didn’t drive. You see, dad was an alcoholic. That’s why he was sending me with Foxy to Aunt Jamia and Uncle Frank. Actually, I was almost the same age as Uncle Frank, but however, he was still my ‘Uncle’. I was 8 years smaller than him. (Almost the same age? Ha ha *giggle*) Of course, you could call him Foxy’s Uncle better. Or call Jamia Foxy’s aunt. I liked them anyway because they were cool. I used to live with Aunt Jamia, before she got married and Foxy got born and dad took us for himself. I hated dad.

“What are you thinking about?” Foxy interrupted my thoughts, strangely in the car so fast. She was smiling sweetly. That sweet smile you can give when you’re five years old, but that melts in the time because you get full of hate and despair. It’s just the way life goes.

“Did I seem to be thinking about anything, junior?” I lie, giving her a cheeky look like nothing happened and never will. She just knew it!

“No, not really.” She was thoughtful about what she actually said, probably smiling to herself. She knew she wasn’t wrong, but was ‘trying to ignore me – I was just a baby’. Her blue dress was sparkling, showing off her body. The sun was on her side.

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“Are we there yet?”

“NO!”

“Are we there yet?”

“YES!”

Of course! Aunt Jamia’s! Frank was sitting in the doorway. Maybe Jamia was dressing up. Maybe they had sex and didn’t see us coming. I shook my head. Being a pervert around my family wasn’t the best thing I could do, is it?

“Hello Aunt Jamia!” Foxy said, giving circles to the old car, waving around, but she stopped. She looked at Uncle Frank, terrified. Of course, he only saw her when she was a baby. When mom died. You know, while I was living with Aunt Jamia, Mom was there too. She was taking care of us, protecting us from dad... well, he found us. “Where is Aunt Jamia? Who is that man?” Foxy asked with a down, serious tone.

“That man is Frank, Jamia’s husband. Be nice to him, okay?” I answered, smiling sweetly to everyone except dad. He mumbled something to me and ran away. The five-year-old ran to Frank and talked to him about something, probably where is Jamia. I took my luggage and walked slowly to the doorway.

“Hello, you must be Frank.” I said, smiling. He nodded. I didn’t remember him that well, but he seemed like a nice guy. If Jamia liked him, it would be okay.

“Yes, and you shall be Miss Sara, as my dear wife informed me.” He giggled and I joined him, making a straight face.

“Of course. No one can forget me.” I winked and went inside, seeing Foxy eating a lot of chocolate. I looked around, searching for some, too.

“Hey! Where’s my chocolate?” I asked, laughing.

“I ate it.” Foxy explained, my smile leaving. She had no problem about eating my chocolate! My chocolate! MY OWN FREAKING CHOCOLATE!

“You did what?” I asked, wanting to be calm. But I lost my temper again.

“Hey, Sara, calm down, I kept some for you.” Jamia smiled

“Yeah. I hope this little brat didn’t eat it all.” I didn’t give one look to her, making her feel guilty.

“Look, Sara, I apologize! If I could do anything to turn back..” She apologized, making me laugh sharply.

“You don’t have what to turn back. I have my own chocolate now.” I kept my arrogant face on, making her feel less guilty, her playful smile appearing.
”So you’re not mad at me anymore?” She seemed like Heaven.

“No. You’re still a selfish brat.”

II

Bed Time!

“Bed time!” Jamia announced, making me pout in an irresistible way. She smiled

“Okay then, bed time for my little Foxy!” I was punching the air, laughing and occasionally dancing with myself as Foxy approached the bed, sticking her tongue out at me, maybe hoping that I will stop Jamia from putting her in bed. No way, sir!

Frank and Jamia were pretty cool. Frank promised that he will show me his friends and Jamia said that she will teach me how to cook (even if I didn’t really need that, you know). But then I wondered how much time me and Foxy will be on these two people’s heads. I mean, we wouldn’t stay with them forever, right? It wouldn’t be fair.

“What are you thinking about, sweetie?” Jamia asked, smiling.

“I was just asking myself how much me and Foxy will take you’re time.” I answered, more sincere than I thought.

“You’re not taking my time! And plus, Frank already loves you two.” I wondered if she lied.

“He doesn’t really know us, does he?” I asked, pretty bored of the discussion.

“No, but he loves you. That’s what he told me.” She was glaring at me, but she stopped when Frank came in.

“What did I tell you?” He asked, his face filled with fear. What did he think she told me? That he was raping 2 years old kids?

“That you love them.” He probably inner-sighed in relief. Oh, God! Perhaps he was actually very scared. “The two girls.”
”Oh, yeah. You’re very nice girls for such a stupid dad.” I nodded, kind of uncomfortable

“This is just the way mom chose him. You can’t choose your dad or your mom, if you know what I mean.” I smiled as Jamia stood up. She smiled to me, showing me that she is going to sleep with her finger. I nodded. She kissed Frank on the cheek and whispered something to him. What did she think? I was going to have sex with him and then marry him in a small Chinese town while she was having a Business trip in London? Come on, I’m not that lame. After Jamia left, he sat on her chair.

“You’re right. You know, my mom was a bitch.” I had no expression on my face, waiting for him to continue. “ I mean, she was at work and boom! She got pregnant. The risks of being a prostitute. I wonder if condoms were on the market then.” I giggled at his dry joke. He took a straight face.

“Oh, I’m sorry if I was offensive. I couldn’t help myself. I wish I could actually come with actually more awful than what happened to you, and then you will say something more awful and I will say something more awful until we actually realize that we said the same thing many times.” I smiled. “And that we just wasted our time with complaining on things that already happened and that we can’t stop.” I added.

“I like your way of thinking. You remind me of my friends, the Way brothers.” The Way brothers? Sounded like some strange brotherhood, you know? I wanted to meet them! I really did! Like they’re from the Mafia! “You should meet them once.” He added, like reading my thoughts.

“I think so…” I was just trying to sound casual, as I am every time.

“How old are you again?” He asked, like it was about watching a movie. If I said 14 he may have said : ‘You’re too young!’, maybe? I didn’t think so.

“14.” I lied and then grinned. He took a bossy face. I giggled. After a long pause, I added: “I’m 18. I was just joking around.” He smiled. He was staring at me. Why was he staring at me? I was getting a bit panicked.
”Frank, why are you staring at me?” I asked, trying to keep my simple, calm, voice.

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m looking at you. Not staring at you.” He smiled and stood up then went to sleep. Strange day much?

I was looking at myself, thinking. Thinking about many things. Thinking about my not-so-pretty life. I know. ‘Emo.’ I’m not freaking emo. But if I was… Yeah! I’m freaking emo! What do you want about this? I decided giving an SMS to one of my best friends, Ray. He was 8 years older but it was okay.

‘Hya fro man hows going round? Im at this uncle dude house. Sleeping much? Ya sis. xox’1

The answer came almost instant and I smiled while reading it.

‘Nh. Too many wrries fr u. Lol. So nice uncl? Stealn hm? Ray.’2

‘Haha lyk nw. But he was lyk string t m.’3

‘Hes in lv.’4

‘He told m I shld meet th Way bros. Lyk hs frnds?’5

‘The Way bros. lyk Gerard nd Mikey?’6

I went up to Frank’s room. Great, he wasn’t sleeping.

“Hey, Frank…?”

“Yes?” He asked, looking surprisingly happy.

“Are the Way brothers Gerard and Mikey?” He nodded.

“Why?”
”You’ll see.” My short reply came, making him feel a bit lonely, I think. I went back to the living room and SMS-ed back.

‘Yh. Frnk lyk kns thm.’ 7

‘Kwl. Im slpng kid. Cya 2morro.”8

‘Tttyl.’9

I smiled. I love The Fro. I mean, Ray. I met him when I was walking down the street, trying to find a lost coin of 50 cents, and I hit him. So I asked him if he could help me and he laughed and said yes. And after that we became friends. He is my only friend. Except Bob, of course. But I’ve never met him so much I can actually count him as ‘countable’ friends, you know?

Oh, and there comes Angel. She’s the little blonde girl that is friends with anyone just to be popular. She always tells me she understands, she’s there for me, other stuff than excuses herself , telling me she has to go somewhere.

And she comes back tomorrow. And we get on again. It’s only the way things work. I’ve never counted her as a friend, but in a story you must mention everyone. The readers get bad impressions (Like anyone cares anyway).

Beep! Beep! You’ve got a new Message from: Angel the Devil.

‘Hello girl! How’s it there with your uncle and aunt… and your little sister? Roxy it is? I hope to see you soon back at Meredith High. Thanks for being here for me, I’ll be there for you! Angel.’

I hated the way she wrote everything like she was writing a story, not texting. I hated the way she put everything perfect, to look like she gives a pretty fuck. I hated the way she was popular around everyone. I hated the way everyone believed her.

I hated Angel Lardy. With my little black heart.

Forever. And ever.

‘Kwl. Im slpng kid. Cya 2morro.”8

‘Tttyl.’9

[1:Hello, Fro Man! How's going around? I'm at this uncle dude's house. Sleeping much? Your sister. xox

2:No. Too many worries for you. Lol ( laughing out loud ). So, nice uncle? Stealing him? Ray.

3:Ha-ha, like no. But he was like staring at me.

4:He's in love.

5:He told me I should meet the Way brothers. Like, his friends?

6:The Way brothers, like Gerard and Mikey?
---
7:Yeah. Like, Frank knows them.

8:Cool. I'm sleeping, kid. See you tomorrow.

9:Ttyl ( Talk to you later ). ]

Smile, Bitch. Stand Up and Smile.

Personal cred ca cel mai bun story al meu de pe Mibba, pentru ca a avut cel mai mare succes. Cand se schimba POV'urile, inseamna ca se schimba si capitolul. :) E cam twisted, dar e okay. Ladies and gentlemen, va prezint:

Smile, Bitch. Stand Up and Smile.

e.nightmare

Nobody's POV
“You know, I just don’t know how to say it… but I love you.” She said, with a tiny little hope in her big, blue eyes.

He raised one eyebrow at her (I shall actually specify that it was the left one, because it was the only one he could raise – especially at her), then smiled. She (disrespectfully) chuckled, being pretty sure about the answers:

‘Like in all fan-fictions and movies, it shall be yes… right?’ her beautiful eyes asked herself, as she was waiting for the crucifying answer.

He stubbornly continued to smile, but you could see his face was all the way to Lapland. ‘What is he doing? Thinking? Thinking of how to say anything? I understand, Gerard. I really do. Just please answer…?’ she fought with herself, while he tried to open his mouth. She pleaded with her eyes, but he sighed and finally spoke:

”I’m sorry Emily, but it’s going nowhere.” He turned back to the big crowd of fans, forgetting her and forgetting probably everything, signing an autograph, moving further to another smile and another photo.

‘That’s just the way she should find out what’s going on. It’s nothing onto us. She’s a false hoper. But why…?’ he thought, while a fan was spelling his name horrible and asking him when the second album of the band will come out.

He smiled and continued to scribble his signature on the wet papers.

‘It’s raining, is it?’ he realized, but before he could answer he turned away and saw that familiar face which he killed two moments ago.

“Gerard…” she yelled, obviously losing her tiny voice which she always kept safe most of the times.

“Gerard!” she tried again, but the young man wouldn’t care.

She was out of his life. For now. For ever. However, he sighed again and gestured to her to stop, and obviously wait for him to answer her pleading.

‘What’s it so important? Another beg? She knows I’m serious. Another ‘why’? She already knows the reasons.

She accepted them long time ago, when we took her on the bloody tour with us.’ He sighed another time, signing another wet paper with his marker which lost color and moved right away to Emily.

“What’s it, Emily?” He asked, like nothing happened. He truly didn’t care about her. He never did. She just put hopes. ‘Bad ones.’ He explained to his own mind, like he was excusing himself.

“Gerard…” She started again, like something wrong happened. He paid no attention and made a confused face, gesturing to the big crowd of fans. “Gerard…” she tried again, but she stopped, looking at Gerard’s back. “Gerard. Why?” she asked stubbornly.

“You know why, Emily. You know everything. You’re a small prick who made up a good replica to work on some people. But not on me. We are not a pair. You’re 20. And it’s not like in the fan-fictions and movies which you see Saturday night with Frank. It’s over.” He said in one breath, making her cry. “It’s over, hear me? For now, you’re no Em or Emmy. You’re just Emily Louise Roosevelt. And I’m Mr. Way. I like formalities, by the way. Now may I say… go away?” He almost yelled the first part, making her cry even more.

“Pathetic.” He mumbled to himself while going back to the tour bus, which was waiting for him. He hated his band members. They weren’t funny. They weren’t sad. They were just purely weird and plastically made.

And why did he hate them, what did he hate Emily, why did all these happen? Why is everything so stupid in this big, wide, world and why are we all dying to be with celebrities, when we have our own lives?
That’s what you’re going to find out. If you want to, if you understand that ‘Not everything that flies can be eaten.’ That’s a big ‘if’ to a big question.

Gerard's POV
The cold streets of London. Oxford Street. A small girl, 15 or 16 as a matter of fact in the age part, was standing there, waiting. I didn’t know what exactly she was waiting for, but when 5 silhouettes showed up from a small pub down the street, I know she felt like what she waited for so long finally full-filled itself like some sort of strange feeling.

The toughest of them approached her, looking like some sick pervert, but she didn’t mind. A smile curved on her round, small, face which showed off how happy she was. Of course, the 5 silhouettes where me and my friends and the sick pervert was me. She was pretty hot. Not my type, but pretty hot. And who said one groupie will ruin my social life? Martha doesn’t care anyways. I smiled to her and touched her slowly on her arms, but then I distanced so I can inform her with my name.

“Gerard Way.” I stated, as I also informed her with my mates’ name. “Frank Iero, Bob Bryar and Mikes (my infantile brother). We all form My Chemical Romance. We’re coming from N.J., you know.” I loved to talk like that. I know everything comes to me. After all, I’m a star, right?

“I’m Emily Roosevelt. Nice to meet you, Gerard.” I raised one eyebrow. Gerard? Nobody’s calling me Gerard unless it’s my fucking mother or brother or my fucking band-mates or some close-o-fucking-friends. Especially a full-of-mouth girl which I met from the street who has a horrible faked-English accent.

“Girl, listen here.” I started, making her shiver. That’s always working.

”You. Not. Calling me Gerard. For you, it’s Mr. Way. But never, ever, Gerard. Sluts don’t call me that. Got it?” She nodded, like every slut does.

“But I’m not a slut.” She complained, while I laughed.

“Maybe you’re not now. But after we finish, you’ll be.” Frank explained her, while I giggled.

After the time we were done with her, we drugged her and took her with us in the Tour Bus. Jack, the driver, was used to that so he didn’t look surprised.

“Was she good?” was all he managed to slur through the alcohol and I nodded.

We put her on our usual ‘Slut-bunk’ and let her sleep, while we all went to the small living-room to laugh hysterically and eat pizza with a rubbish trace of posh ness which everyone loved to laugh at, again. We licked each other’s faces, like we always do, undressed each other, fucked each other (we were 5 so it was fun) and finally went to sleep, with the girl next to us. What was her name again…?

Emily’s POV
“Hey, princess.” He said, smiling. Who was it? An angel? I bet it was an angel. Those hazel eyes, the black hair that shined, the sun that interrupted my thoughts… was I in Heaven? What happened…? Last night, when I had to meet those guys who wanted fun? Those chemical guys.

“H-hello…” I stuttered, but he just stubbornly smiled again as I remained confused like hell. “Who are you…?” I asked, while trying to remember that beautiful figure that was standing right beside me, smiling with love to me, the slut of London, Emily.

“Oh, honey… You forgot everything, did you?” He asked, but I didn’t know anything. I just nodded in misery. I bet he understood it.

“I’m Alex.” He presented himself, making my head blur inside.

“And you’re Emily Roosevelt. We went to high school together, and I found out about your life and found you when you had to meet these guys. You’re in the hospital, I brought you here. Also, here are the 4 guys you were going to fuck tonight. They want to apologize, Emerald.”

He called me Emerald! Emerald! I’m his Emerald Princess, and together we’ll be running everywhere and be happy and have heaps and heaps of kids and my kids won’t wait ages to meet the perfect match because we will be the lucky family but… wait a little bit.

The 4 guys..? Weren’t they 5? What happened? The chemical guys skipped one chemical guy…? Was Alex kidding me?

“I don’t want to meet them.” I stopped Alex. “Could you please stay more with me? Could I have your number?” I quickly covered my mouth, but he laughed like nothing happened. “Emerald, I would love to stay more with you and chat…”

“…But we’re here and the slut won’t just stop us because she wants to stay with you, Ally-pop. Now, slut – I mean Emily, we’re sorry for trying to use you and we promise nothing bad will happen to you again. As a matter of fact, now Alex is the lead singer for our band and you’ll have to come on tour with us.” A short guy with strange hair tattoos and some piercing told me.

I wanted to kiss Alex right this moment, but I stopped. Why was I going on tour with these guys…? Wait, I didn’t even go to high school. Thousands of questions popped in my head, telling me to stop. Telling me to leave them alone and live in my flat, do something with myself. ‘Relax, pony. It’ll all be okay. They’re nice guys, right…? They can do nothing to me. The short one promised. He really did. And Alex certainly likes me. That’s why I’m going on tour with him. With them.’ I spoke to myself, while I stubbornly waved my hand to the other 3 guys (Stubbornly because I couldn’t really move myself. I wonder why I can’t move and why I’m in hospital….) they didn’t wave back. They just stood there, waiting.

“Alex, why am I here?” I managed to ask, but he frowned at me.

What was he thinking about…? Was it a bad thing?

“I can take it.” I assured him.

I could go through everything. I was powerful. I was Emily Roosevelt, future Mrs. Alex (Insert his fucking last name here), newly called Princess Emerald by him. I am going to be this posh lady with heaps of stuff and then I’ll have many maids who will call me ‘Madam’ and everyone will love me. Also, after the tour everyone will like to be my friend and everyone will love me and want autographs because I’ll be Alex’s wife…

“Dream on much, Em?” he woke me up, probably to tell me why I am laying in the hospital.

“The truth is, we just wanted to analyze you because it’s not really safe. What you’re doing, you know. We all care about you.” He stated, but I just google-eyed myself and waited. Waited and waited.

What I didn’t actually know (and was going to realize later) was that Alex –Insert name here- was Gerard Way. A sick, evil, man.

Sheila’s POV
Purse? Here. Cell-phone? Here. Keys? Here. Un-rested and happy, I took the elevator and finally walked all the way to Star Bucks Coffee down the road. You see, I have this friend: Emily. And she met this guy: Alex, who says he’d been in High School with her. (She didn’t really ‘graduate’ High School, but that was okay enough for her to believe him.) I’m really happy for her, but nervous also.

You see, she’s kind of a … slut if you excuse my horrible, wobbly-wobbly language. From High School she started drinking, sleeping with random guys. (You don’t know this from me, but she actually got raped once, and her mother and pop disowned her from then on. She lived at mine’s for like 2 years or so.)

And taking drugs. I was really worried for her – now and then. So, she called me yesterday and told me all about this guys she was going to meet this Monday after-noon on Oxford (We’re from London). Apparently, the vocal disappeared and they found this Alex guy who saved her from the dangerous 4 persons – My Chemical Romance, as they call themselves. I searched them up on Google.com and saw some pictures. It’s pretty freaky if you ask me. We remained friends from then, but the relation got colder later on. I wonder how she found my name.

‘Wong-Wing.’ Oops, excuse me. That was my I-Phone. (Yes, I do afford one. My pop’s got heaps of money and so does my mum). I got it from Momma yesterday and I’m really excited about it.

“Sheila here!” I answered, enthusiastic, while walking down the street, getting closer to Star Bucks.

”Hey, Shay. It’s Emily. Do you think we can large up the table a bit?” a really familiar voice asked. But why does she want a larger table? Is Alex coming up the Hall of Fame?

“Why?” I asked, seriously not concerned. (You see, it’s my ‘Nail-Time-While-Being-Bored-On-The-New-I-Phone’ thingy)

“Alex is coming up, and I wouldn’t really turn up. Do you mind?” She excused herself. I really wanted to fuck Emily right that point.

“Of course I mind. I planned all this to give you some serious friendly advice, girly chat, fashion thingies, coffee in two gals-pals, but it seems that Mr. Alex who calls you his fucking Fake Emerald showed up! Well no thanks honey. I can do fine on my own.”

“B-but I’ll ch…” And that’s where I shut the I-Phone.

I didn’t care. You don’t really call your old-best friend to chat about the old times and then fuck her up because you want to meet your prince charming when you can meet him any fucking time of the year you want! No thanks, baby. I think I’ll get another old-best friend. Just about Frank Iero. I wonder what he is doing lately…

Frank’s POV

“Fuck you Gerard!” I yelled, making the bus turn ‘Up-down’. “Why do you ruin everything?” I asked him, while falling on the couch.

“Why, Frank? Why?” Gerard added, with this super-angry voice which made me shiver.

“You want to know why? It’s because we NEED her. She’s our energy and we can trick her easily. She’ll be heart-broken. You know that’s how I live. How Alex lives.”

I stood there, thinking. Thinking much about what he said, but I couldn’t stand up more and think. I just let myself blow out:

“That’s how you live, Gerard. But that’s not how I roll.” I commented, stubbornly still laying on the couch.

“Fuck you Frank! I make the rules aro-” He wanted to continue arguing, but my cell-phone went all ‘ring-ring’ so I had him to calm down.

“Hey, Frankie around.” I answered in my ‘Oh-so-cool’ tone that everybody loved. “Who’s up to the thing?”

“Hey, Frank. It’s Sheila here. We went to High School together, remember?”

Uh… think, Frank, think. Sheila? Who’s that? Oh, wait, I remember her. Hot sounding voice, hot memory of her… sexy, baby! Well, I wonder what the fuck she wants.

“I wondered if we could meet up sometime. To talk about the old stuff, if you get me.”

God, that seductive tone. I hated seductive tones. I looked way down to my pants and noticed it. She giggled on the back line. How did she know?

“So, I guess the answer’s yes. See you at 9pm at Friday’s.”

She ordered and I finally spoke:

“Yes. Sure. See you there.” Groovy, baby! Got the beer?

I looked around; finding out that Gerard was nowhere, so I just fell into a little daylight nap…

Frank’s POV
Dark. Too Dark. Where am I? What’s happening? I can’t see a piece of shit from here. Oh. Wait, Frank. Your eyes are closed. But you can’t open them. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What’s going on? I can’t open my eyes, and everything is so dark, as if I didn’t even close them.

“Hello?” I shouted, as if someone will hear me and open my un-rested eyes. I couldn’t continue, because my voice started to fade and I couldn’t speak anymore.

“Good Morning, class. Good Morning, America.” I heard a really familiar voice say. It was a teacher. Definitely a teacher. It was Mrs. Morgan.

But, wait a bit. What am I doing at school? I’m 28, for God. Hello, someone wake me up from this horrible dream, please? Pretty please? I tried to open my eyes again. Succeed, baby, succeed! I looked around, as if I lost something, and then I saw her.

“Today, a new student will enchant our class.” Mrs. Morgan added, staring blankly at me.

I pulled out a face which said ‘What-Have-I-Done?’, because I was truly confused about what was happening in there. But then it hit me. The ‘Hello’ thingy maybe made her angry. Oh my God! I made her angry. Just wait for detention as in old days, Frank. Just wait.

“Her name is Sheila Wilts and she comes from London.” The teacher continued giving information about her, but all I did was look.

She was so beautiful; I couldn’t stick my eyes out of her. And seeing as she was my new desk-mate (because Morgan said so – it isn’t my fault!) I just giggled like stupid. I want her so bad, and she will totally like me – I’m sure. I mean, who wouldn’t like me? Wouldn’t you like me for Christmas?

‘Hey, Franks.
Lil’ Sheila here. What do you think about me? Want to meet?
Xoxo
Shay’

Look who’s got lucky! I told you she likes me, I told you she likes me. But this dream is getting ridiculous and I just don’t think I’ll wake up any soon…

Frank’s POV
I was staring at her wobbly-nice-cute writing, which I wished I had so bad! I liked her, I really did. I mean, she looked so pretty: black eyes, faded-blonde hair, and tall, slim and had this original style which made me fall out of my chair. Plus, she smelled pretty. You know what they say: ‘Girls are weird, but they smell pretty.’

Very pretty. I took one more look at her, and then she giggled, but she pointed again to the paper. I nodded, and she smiled. Shay pointed to something in my back, as I felt something hot touch my shirt and I felt watched. Oh God, not Morgan again. Mind you, but I can’t stand her. She just hates everyone and we all hate her.

I wonder who is in my class right now, anyways. Oh. So, there’s Gerard, Ray and Sty. That’s okay. Oh, and also here’s Val, Key and Martha. There’s 6 I counted by now, and we’re all 26 besides me and my little Shay, who gave me a funny look, but I took out an old, posh, look and mimed I’m smoking.

“What are you smoking, Mr. Iero? Is it good, from other country perhaps? Mind you, we just need some cigarettes – right, everyone?” Morgan made my life a misery. Oh, how I hate this woman.

Ah, and what should I say now? I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate and hate her! Won’t she just go to Hell and leave us, the normal people, alone? Because I’m sick of her and I’m pretty sick of this dream. Of course, not until I actually meet Sheila, fuck her, be with her and change my future – that’s another part.

Actually, I wish I had these dreams everyday. I love dreams. I love dreams in this dream, and also love dreams in the dreams of the dreams of the dreams I have, if you dig me. I like a good dream, that is it! I only like good dreams, because the other ones suck. – My usual bad dreams are about me, some kind of strange wobbly stairs and my friends who are not trying to save me. You see, I walk on the stairs and I always fall down.

Freaky, freaky, I know.

“So, Mr. Iero, you still didn’t answer my question.” I blushed nervously. “However, I have another question for you.” She added.

I wanted to slap her right this minute, but she was a teacher and anyway it was my fault I didn’t learn. I know. I’m a goody-shoes boy. And I’m a boy. Seriously not a man, because men actually don’t have to receive small stuff written by girls they like, they give them a look and she’s all theirs. I guess I’m just a small pansy, am I? Well, girls like me a little anyway.

Even if I didn’t have that much girlfriends. I remember Vita and Emma, and I think I know something about a Cecile and an Ophelia too. Of course, we broke up because I’m too much of a flirt. Girls and boys, come here for the ‘Ieronator!’ Yeah… well, don’t mind me. Oh, and I think my little Shay likes flirting, too. We’ll be a perfect couple someday… like those Hollywood posh couples, y’know?

Gerard’s POV

“Frank.” I rocked Frank gently – No way, sir! He was up to his dreaming. “Frank.” I tried again, pushing him more and talking louder. Finally, I shook him and yelled into his dirty (yellow – EWW!) ear: “Frank fucking Iero! Wake the fuck up!”

“Huh..?” I could hear him sniffle from under the bed sheets. “Gee…?” He asked, as I nodded and he just yawned.

“Sleepy-head! This girl is calling you like crazy and she’s all about killing you. On the phone, my sir?” I finally took his attention.

He mumbled something about pancakes and unicorns – Silly Frankie! – and then went straight up to the phone, dragging the sheets with him and his jeans falling. His hair was messy and he looked like shit. I looked down at the watch. 10 pm. Oh, God. Time goes by so fast.

“Oh, Shay!” he exclaimed at the phone. What the fuck? That’s hysterical. You can’t call someone Shay! It’s pathetic! Hallelujah! Forgive me! “I’m so, so sorry! I promise it won’t happen again. Yes. Yes, he just needed me. He’s got fucking cancer! I know.” He took his time to nod. “Yeah, well we can meet up tomorrow at 5 pm, can we?” He grinned excitedly at me. I just gave him a ‘Man-go-to-hell-you’re-fucking-stupid’ look like I love to give.

“So, Frankie’s got a date?” I nudged him after the phone-call ended.

“It’s none of your business.” He hissed, and I just gave him a funny look. You see, he’s strange. I hate him. I really do.

***

Emily’s POV

Oh dear God. Shay is so angry on me and I don’t know what to say to her. So I just went straight to the computer, because everything else sucks. You see, this Star Bucks has fancy computers which are only 1 pound.

I signed in on MSN. I love doing that, because all the guys I fucked are listed there. I list them as ‘Guy I fucked no.1’ ‘Guy I fucked no.2’ and so on. So then, a random guy said hello to me:

‘The Fucking Horny Hell: hey baby
Pretty Ballerina Em: hey :-s
The Fucking Horny Hell: ure late!!
Pretty Ballerina Em: where?
The Fucking Horny Hell: at your next appointment, ‘course…
The Fucking Horny Hell: and you know what happens when you’re late’
I could feel something hot beside me.

‘The Fucking Horny Hell: oh wait. Im here’

Oh dear God.

Randy’s POV

‘She’s late again and I’m getting really horny. I can’t wait. I can’t stand there watching her. I don’t wait for anyone.’ Ladies and Gentlemen, these are my thoughts.

I approached Em, but she screamed when she saw me. Doesn’t she remember ol’ Uncle Randy? Some employee of Star Bucks came around to ask what happened, but I just told him she’s very happy to see me. I heard her mouth open and close sometime, but I couldn’t understand anything.

Emily’s POV

‘Lie.’ That’s what I muttered to that employee. And ‘Police.’ He nodded – as if he nodded to that man’s horrible explanation of ‘She was just so happy to see me.’ Oh dear God, please help me. I just wish I didn’t cancel my date with Alex. Oh, but I have an idea.

I smiled seductively to him, while leading us to the bathroom – into a cabin. I stuck him onto the cabin’s wall, licking his face slowly and unbuttoning his shirt, while he moaned in pleasure. I licked everything I could, when I got down, I stopped.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, while touching my breasts. Oh God, what don’t I do for fucking living?

“Nothing, I just feel like you deserve better, double, more.” I answered, like a stupid bitch.

“You’re enough.” He assured me, wanting me to give him more. More of Hell! He’s not getting anything from ME, nowadays!

“No I’m not. Let me just call my best friend, Shay.” He liked the name. His pants showed it. I went straight out of the cabin and called Shay.

“Shay, sorry to disturb you, but I’ve got a serious emergency. Someone is here and he wants to fuck me but I don’t remember him and it’s seriously strange because I’m scared that if I am not saved now and if I don’t fuck him I’m dead. I can see his gun.” I whispered in one breath. I could hear her nod on the other side, and I closed the phone and entered the cabin again.

“On her way, baby.” I answered, as he smiled like a pervert to me. ‘Just imagine he’s Alex a little, Shay’s on her way!!’ I thought to myself, but I knew there was no potential so much hope.

Shay’s POV

Oh my God! I’m so sorry I wasn’t there with the poor Emily. I just dumped her, as an ass I am. And I bet she canceled the Alex thing for me, too. Why do I have to be so lousy? I called the police fast and went straight to Star Bucks, while SMS-in’ Emily:

‘Emz.
Its kk. Were on or way kk?
Ciao
Shay
Ps. get hm exctd!’

Oh God, oh God, oh God. I just hope he won’t kill her in pleasure, if you know what I mean. She’s my best friend and I left her there. I should’ve been there. And Alex should’ve been there. I should’ve met him.

Emily’s POV

Shay just sent me a message. It’s better, but I’m scared. He’s started playing with me, but I’m scared that if I just don’t finish with him I’ll be fucked. He was approaching me. I was cared.

Oh. Centimeters. Millimeters. I can’t take it. I gave him a foot in the eggs, put on my clothes and ran away, closing the cabin with some safety key I strangely found on the floor. I sighed and ran away, but I bumped into someone.

“I’m so, so sorry! I have to run and…” I stopped when I looked who it was. “Oh, Shay!” I jumped in her arms and then asked where the Police are. She pointed to some tough guys and I told them I closed him in one cabin. They nodded, as I told Sheila:

“I’m really sorry for kicking you out like you don’t matter – and as if he was the best! He didn’t even come to help me!” She giggled. “What’s so funny…?” I asked, and she simply answered:

“Nothing, it’s just that you’re so sweet!” I was confused.

“Why?” I asked again, hoping I will get a proper answer this time, seeing as I was in the extreme of confused people who just escaped from being raped.

“You didn’t even call him, goofy!” I slapped my fore-head.

“You’re right, Shay.” I sighed, putting my arm around her. “You’re right.”

Bob’s POV

“Yes, Emma. Sure, Emma. Yes, you can drop by. Yes, with Shay. Oh, of course. Tomorrow.” Gerard nodded. “Of course, dear. We’re waiting.” I giggled. He shot me a death glare, but I just giggled again.

“Bob, why the fuck do you have to giggle when I speak on the phone?” Oh God, he was too much angry.

“I’m sorry Gerard. So, who was it?” I asked, changing the subject as fast as I could.

“It was Emily. I decided she could be our…” He stood a bit to think for a good word, I suppose. “Groupie. She’s a really known slut in London. I heard that she regrets it by now, but however.” He added, and I nodded.

I opened my mouth so I could say something, but the bell rang. It was surely Emily. I wondered if she was stuck on Gerard.

“On, and by the way, Bob: I’m Alex, not Gerard if I haven’t told you yet.” I nodded.

***

“Hello! Thanks for getting me in.” I heard a female voice say to Gerard –Alex-.

“No problem, Emerald. We decided it’s better for someone to take care of you.”

“Alex, you didn’t need to anyway. I mean, if I disturb you or your band-mates, I’ll leave.” She excused herself. Oh Gosh. Alex?

Emerald? I puffed into a small giggle. That was fucking pathetic. I wouldn’t call my grandma Emerald. Not even my way-over-death grandma. Wow, I wonder how she looked. I think old. Really old.

“Hey there.” Someone woke me up. Oh, she was Emily.

God help me, she was so gorgeous. She was so graceful, beautiful, had a pretty voice… I think… I think I like her.

“Hey there. I’m Bob.” I introduced myself, as I sat up – as a gentleman I am. I seriously felt my face blush.

“Oh, you didn’t need to disturb yourself. To sit up, I mean.” I made a movement with my hand which showed it was okay. She smiled sweetly. So sweetly, but I think she faked it.

She looked at Gerard which such a passion. But he didn’t care. He was dreaming. He was using her. Instead, I wouldn’t. She would regret that. I could feel it.

But then I remembered about her luggage and asked her about it. She pointed for outside, and then I saw a woman carrying it. Her best friend – That Shay Gerard was talking about, maybe? She smiled at me.

But not false. Normal. With an emotion. Was the wrong girl falling for me?

Shay’s POV

Oh God. I think I like the blonde guy. Who might that be? He’s so cute! But he’s got all his eyes on Emily – who I don’t think she’ll be really into him until Alex gets bored of her, but however. I want to know who the blonde guy is. He looks beautiful. I know I already said that, but he does. I couldn't help but smile. He smiled back, but you could see he wasn't there. He was looking at Emily again. Why me?

"Sheila?" a familiar voice asked. It was Frank -fucking-Iero. He was totally into me. Why is everything so messed up, people? It fucking sucks. I just wished Emily was the only one into this.

"Yes, Frank." I answered, monotone as hell. I was sorry I was such a bitch with him, but he fucking deserved it. (Oops, too many ‘Fuck’ words used in this paragraphs).

“Are we still dating tonight?” He asked again, almost pouting. Why did he like me? Why didn’t ‘Blondie’ like me?

“Only if I can have some information…” I approached him, walking into a private corner.

“Shoot.” Desperate he was, I tell you. Desperate.

“Who’s the blonde guy?” He looked away, hurt. Stealing me, he thought? “Frank. Who’s the blonde guy?” I asked again. No response.

“No date you have then, hunk.” I continued and left him in the corner. He caught my wrist and whispered:

“It’s Bob. Just don’t go off him.” I shook my shoulders.

“It’s not your business, Frank. Really.” He just showed how angry he was by his eyes.

“You’re still having a date with me, remember?” He said triumphal like he won something really special – in this case, me.

“Not if I’m not coming.” I giggled and sat next to Bob – I left Em’s luggage there.

“Hello.” I said, and Bob smiled.

“Hello.”

Shay’s POV

Bullets. Everywhere.

Em just told Gerard she loves him. Gerard being, actually, Alex. Gerard is his real name. A year passed over the tour thing.

And we all suffered when Gerard told her she meant nothing to him.

But then she went to Bob. Who already killed himself because of her. He just couldn’t take it.

Frank shot himself. Because nothing could do best than act like everyone.

And all I was left with was a gun in my hand. And one bullet. Who took enough.