Today was fucking terrible. And not just the usual fucking terrible, but the fucking shitty I wanna die terrible. Because today was Frank Iero's first day at his new high school and he was not looking forward to it. Well, to be clear, he never looked forward to anything and he retained the same attitude as long as he was doing anything that wasn't in his room, but today was especially sucky. He was glad to have moved schools, seeing as, at the last one, he was known only as "Faggot Frankie." You suck ONE guy's dick and suddenly, the entire school thinks you're gay. Frank was definitely pansexual, but it's not like it mattered to them.
But anyway,
Terrible.
He stared at his hands as his mother talked to the principle, the two laughing and conversing about god knows what. Frank had noticed that somehow, his fingers looked thinner than they used to.
'Is that even possible?' He thought to himself, noticing his hands were now shaking. He pried his eyes away from them, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.
"Well, I'm sure Frank will do just fine here! He should fit right in!" The Principle exclaimed, smiling like the oblivious idiot he was at the punk boy before him. What an idiot. Wherever Frank went, he didn't fit in; that was a given. In fact, that was essentially his goal. To fit in is to lose yourself, and Frank wasn't going to let that slide any time soon.
"Yes, I think he will!" His mother replied, walking over to ruffle his hair. He instinctively knocked her hand away, careful to be gentle but still making the point. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the principle, grinning. "Thank you again for everything. It means so much to us that you'll still take us after....everything."
And by everything, she meant the physical fight Frank has gotten in with....him. Frank had already been having a fucking terrible day, not as bad as today, but still pretty bad, and Bob thought it was funny to open his figurative book entitled "Funny things to call Frank". He was only about two or three slurs in when Frank turned around and punched him square in the face because fuck, he deserved it. Bob deserved that, and the countless times Frank punched him again after that. He deserved the bloody nose, too. Frank felt like a god, mounted on top of Bob's midsection and punching him until he heard a sickening crack sound from the other's face as red started pouring from his nose. Frank's hands were covered in it. It seemed like gallons of the stuff. And even though Bob had deserved it, Frank felt sick to his stomach as he realized what he'd done.
Frank didn't like to talk about it.
One argument with the principle and an expelling later, Frank found himself walking down the hallway to his first class, trying to ignore the weird looks he got. Yeah, he wore spikes on his clothes and he had bags under his eyes that could be designer and his clothes hung off him in an almost unnatural way, even though they were too tight on him only a few short months ago.
Frank Anthony Thomas Iero Jr. is different. Deal with it.
X o x o x o x o
Gerard had about five sticks of gum in his mouth at this point. Yes, five. He'd only had one in originally, but it had quickly lost its flavor and he feared it would lose his magic if he tried to exchange it for a new piece, so he just tossed another in his mouth. And another, and another and another. It was getting hard to chew at this point, seeing as his gag reflex was getting upset, but he was very tempted to just toss another on. His mind was drifting from the gum, his nails subconsciously brushing against his sleeved arm and he shuddered. No. No, no, no. He had to mentally yell at himself and he shook his head, trying to focus on the gum in his mouth that tasted more like old toothpaste than the fresh spearmint it had before.
Gerard suffered from Dermatillomania, and had since he was young. It was more of a bad habit up until seventh grade, but after that, it became a problem. He'd started to get acne then, and the urge to only scratch off bug bites became the urge to rip off scabs that acne had created. It only got worse from there and soon, almost anywhere he could reach, he was constantly picking at his skin. He had scarring all over, some calm and only slightly discolored, others jarring and angry and clear to see. He hated the scars with a burning passion, yet he couldn't stop picking. Even after seeing a medical professional, he could hardly stop. They simply shrugged and suggested compression shirts and gloves, which he used today to help keep his nails from prying up his flesh. It felt like they had a mind of their own sometimes, but he tried his best to remain conscious about it. Although, he had nothing stopping him from biting his lips.
Speaking of lips, he'd just bitten off some skin from the inside of them and an iron taste filled his mouth. He mentally cursed at himself because fuck, he couldn't even go thirty seconds without stopping.
He didn't know why he was like this. Maybe it was because he had OCD. Maybe it was because he hated his own skin. Maybe it was because he thought he was ugly. The world is ugly and damn, he was probably the ugliest in his own mind.
It's too bad that true beauty is never seen by the one who possesses it.
X o x o x o x o
"Alright, class. I'm supposed to give this student some fake-ass welcome and pretend like I give a shit, but I don't. Just sit down and be quiet." The teacher commented, Frank shrugging and moving to what was clearly his seat in the back corner of the class. He smirked, kicking his feet up on the desk in front of him and totally, completely accidentally kicking the guy in front of him in the head. The poor soul in front of him looked like he was ready to fight, but he took one look at Frank and turned right back around. Looking like a fucking badass twenty four/ seven had some serious benefits, even though Frank definitely didn't feel it all the time.
He looked around the room, scouting out if he had any potential competition he needed to put in their place. He didn't find any, of course, since Belleville High was essentially all trashy, popular people, but one kid caught his eye; Well, they were impossible to miss in fact, since their hair was as red as those cheap, fake roses. Frank couldn't see their face, but he could see their hand was near their mouth. Biting nails, maybe? He wasn't sure what exactly they were doing, but if what could see of this kid, a.k.a. his ass, Frank knew they were going to get along just fine.
But when the kid turned around to face Frank, he frowned. This kid was fucking gorgeous, and that wasn't a problem at all. He was frowning because this kid was gnawing on their lip, gloved fingers falling back to their desk. They paused on their biting flashing Frank a shy smile, before facing forward again and going back to whatever they were doing.
Frank had the funny feeling that this kid was the only one here who was remotely as different than him. And he had the feeling they were going to be great friends.
(A/N)
HEY GUYS I DECIDED TO POST THIS TODAY BECAUSE ITS HP_AtTheDisco 'S BIRTHDAY AND I WANNA EMBARRASS THEM SO HERE HAVE FUN
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEAN
Also I've been writing this in the notes app so it might be poorly written rip
YOU ARE READING
You're beautiful to me ||Frerard + Petekey||
Fanfic~The world is ugly~ Gerard Way: the kid who's the most outcast of the outcasts. And the kid who can't stop picking at his skin Frank Iero; the kid who got kicked out of Catholic school. And the kid who's skinny. Too skinny They find solace in each...
