Like Ghosts in the Snow ▹ ▶︎ Gerard Way

▶︎ Meet the band.

▶︎ Cherilynn.

I sat on the beige velvet loveseat in the middle of Frank's living room, silently looking around as Frank talked to his mom in the kitchen. The room was warm and homely, with pictures of a very tiny, very cute baby Frank all over the walls. It smelled like a weird mix of cinnamon, probably from the lit candle that sat on top of the fireplace, and lemon- which I assumed was the smell of whatever Frank's mom used to clean the floor since she was still holding a mop when Frank and I got to the house.

Unsurprisingly, all I saw when I walked into my apartment just a few hours later was David passed out on the couch. So even if it felt like my heart was coming out of my chest the whole time, I managed to pack a duffel bag with my absolute necessities, take David's old camera, and steal a hundred bucks from his wallet. I mean, technically, it wasn't even stealing since that was my money in the first place. No matter what, though, I was happy I'd finally left that decrepit apartment complex once and for all. There was just a tiny detail I hadn't even thought about, and it was that, after I left, I'd be practically homeless.

So now, Frank was having a hushed conversation with his mom- who, despite being very polite to me, kinda scared me. I could hear him trying to convince her to let me stay in the guest room for free while I absentmindedly drew patterns with my fingertips on the soft armrest of the loveseat. I had no idea what I was even going to do if Frank and his friends didn't agree to take me on tour with them, and it really scared me. So I tried to quieten my anxious thoughts and actually succeeded!

For, like, ten minutes.

Once I'd finally managed to make my heart stop racing, I heard a pretty aggressive knock, followed by an "oops, sorry." at the door. I waited a few seconds to see if Frank went to answer the door, but he was too occupied by the conversation with his mom (which now had turned into a whisper-yelling match) to even care about the loud boys behind his door.

So though I wasn't a big fan of talking to groups of people I didn't know, I knew I might as well introduce myself to the boys- who I assumed were Frank's bandmates- who were now insistently calling out his name while a soft-voiced one told them to shut up. I gathered all my courage and walked to the door, instinctively checking myself out on the standing mirror in the foyer before opening it.

"Frank, dude, we've been waiting for fucking- oh."

Well, they definitely didn't look how I expected them to.

I'd heard a few of their songs, and from how bold and almost frenetic their music was, I assumed they were a bunch of tattooed dudes with mohawks and giant chains. Instead, they kind of looked like... losers? In the best way possible, of course (if there's any positive way of saying someone looks like a loser.)

I mean, there was this tall, skinny one that wore glasses and looked like your average GameStop employee. Then there was this other one, who I assumed was the one telling his friends to be quiet earlier, judging from the apologetic look on his face. And, I didn't get a good look at him at first since he had his back to me, but there was this other dude who... my God, was honestly the prettiest guy I'd ever seen.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't think he was a girl at first glance.

And I'd also be lying if I said I wasn't slightly jealous that a boy who wasn't even trying to look like a girl would make a prettier girl than me.

"You're not Frank," the skinny one pointed out, and the pretty one rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I s'ppose the boobs kinda give it away, don't they?" I chuckled, stepping to the side so they could come in. "Come on in. Frank's talking to his mom right now, so..."