Frank is twenty eight: he's mentally stable for the most part, and well nobody has to know about pills he takes twice a day, do they? He's normal now, he's a person now, he's a fucking adult with an office job and he fucking hates it and that's fine, because he got out of the mental hospital three years ago, and these past three years of mundane nothingness have been the best three years of his life. Ten years ago, or so, Frank was in love with a boy called Gerard with fiery red hair and the personality of a switchblade knife, and ten years ago that boy called Gerard had killed himself. Frank still saw him though: hallucinations, as he knew them to be now, and it took him years in a hospital he never thought he'd get out of to convince himself of his newfound sanity, but he was okay now. Twenty eight year old Frank Iero had been officially 'okay' since he was twenty five. He hadn't seen Gerard again, and he didn't even think about the guy - he was just normal, and he was almost painfully content with being the secretary to someone with a five figure salary. But of course, on one fateful morning in December, that has to go and change, doesn't it? (Technically a sequel to Summertime, but I wouldn't say you need to have read Summertime to understand and enjoy this)

"You can run away with me, anytime you want." I want to get away. Away from the abuse at home, at school hell, but we're not friends. I could never be friends with Gerard Way. He's just some guy that fate seems to drive me towards. His brother may be even more of asshole than him, making my school life living hell and I guess things at home are not too great either. And despite how much of an asshole Gerard Way is, he's the only one that seems to make anything better.

Gerard draws dicks for a living. Frank takes them. Gerard Way moves into a new apartment in a dodgy complex where he's bound to get beaten to a pulp after his old place is set on fire by those damned 'youths', and by a certain turn of events, his neighbour, the equally provocative, yet entirely in a different way, Frank Iero, ends up in his bed, and then, everything just really goes to shit.

[This is the sequel to Tell Me I'm A Bad Man, it's not a necessity to read that first, but you probably should] Frank was under the impression that as soon as he'd graduated and moved to New York with Gerard, everything would be, well, perfect. Though he wasn't completely naïve - he knew that the presence of Gerard's apparently suicidal ex-boyfriend was going to make things difficult, but he didn't know that his intense distrust of the man would start to break down the relationship he'd tried so hard to keep. And then lies upon lies upon lies from everybody start to build, until nobody's sure of the truth anymore. Six months isn't long, but it's enough. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- [sexual content, may be triggering for some individuals]