XOXO// Frank Iero

Three

Kit

Saturday

After I got home from the Heckle gig, all I could thing about was the diary boy. So much to the point that I considered going back to the shop and opening it up so I could get the book. The only reason I didn't go was because Marlowe slept over.

I woke up at about 10am. I woke up in my full outfit from the night before, as well as my makeup. Marlowe had taken the time to wash her face and also change into a t shirt of mine, but I seemed to have no energy.

I padded in my fluffy socks to the bathroom, groaning at the sight of myself, my messy brown hair and my smudged makeup. Using what I had in the bathroom, I washed off my makeup before I hopped into the shower and got changed before Marlowe woke up.

My room was a clean one, I always made sure of it. The idea of my clothes touching the floor made me shiver, and I regularly hoovered and mopped. My parents say they got lucky with a kid who liked to clean, which my sisters never did, but I think its because I'm the only sister who has autism.

I looked at Marlowe sleeping and argued with myself. Should I go get the book? I'd only have to get the bus.. or I could use last night's money and get a taxi straight to and right back, it would be less than half an hour. I could even ask mom to bring me..

I picked up a piece of paper and scribbled on it.

Gone to get something from work. Home soon- Kit :)

I brushed some mascara on my eyes and ran downstairs with slightly damp hair. Mom agreed to bring me to Joey's. I told her that I needed to collect some kind of timetable from Joey,  she believed me and didn't ask any more details.

The ride was slightly boring. I didn't have a lot to talk about with mom, so we let the radio play, and we didn't speak over it once. When I got to Joey's, Paul was working the counter.

He greeted me with a smile and a nod. Paul was a very strange man. He seemed like a bit of a stoner, or user of some kinds of substances. Whatever drug made you strangely inviting and animated, almost Willy Wonka-ish. That's what he was taking. His green sweater that he seemed to be wearing every time I saw him was tucked into his jeans and his curly brown hair was tied up into a man bun.

"Hey Paul! I left a book behind the counter during my shift last night. It's red, is it there?"

He smiled and nodded, not saying a word. He handed me the book and waved me goodbye. I lobbed it into my bag, I knew if mom saw it she would ask questions that I didn't want to answer, nor did I have coherent answers for.

On the drive home I kind of realised the true oddity of what I was doing. This was a stranger's personal diary, and I was treating it like a soap opera, pining for the next episode, or in my case, diary entry. I was being a bit of a weirdo, and kind of even immoral, but I felt no guilt, just slightly scared of being caught.

Marlowe was still asleep when I got home. She'd changed positions, so maybe she'd woken up and gone back to sleep again. I sat on my arm chair and read a page.

Dear Diary
Today I went for ice cream, on my own. Pistachio flavoured. In theory, it sounds like I'm a bit of a loser. But I enjoyed it. I usually don't have cold things, because it affects my singing voice, but I haven't got any gigs coming up. I liked walking around Trenton, kind of independently with nowhere exactly to go. I went to Joey's records and handed in a resume. They said they'll get back to me at some point, they're understaffed apparently. How many idiots does it take to run a record shop? Neil told me that when he applied to work in Target, they took like a whole month to get back to him. I just need something before the summer ends to fund my tattoo addiction. I could sell sand to the a community in the desert, I know that, so telling people which guitars to buy will be no hassle to me. If I don't get a job at Joey's, I'm sure I'll find somewhere else with my very unimpressive, lie filled resume. Yes, I was a plane engineer, Yes; I'm 18, No; I have to references. I've never actually had a real job before. Last year, I got the fairly dumb notion that I was going to use the summer to go to to Ohio to find my mom. I got as far as Pennsylvania before dad tracked me down and dragged me into his car by the neck of my t-shirt. He said my mom became a prostitute. I'm not sure if I believe him. I have no other contactable family to tell me if he is or not. None of his brothers or sisters talk to him, and both of his parents are dead. That's right, I haven't even got a cousin to hang out with. It's just me, Neil and John. In school sometimes it's me and Mikey Way, but I haven't seen him in a while. He got in some legal trouble for selling illegal movies. You gotta get money somehow. Alright. Enough rambling .
XOXO- Me

Joey's records? Mikey way? Mikey.. Way.. This chapter had more than enough things for me to unpack. Whoever was writing this had applied to work at my job, and the fact that the book wasn't dated didn't help. Diary boy applied to work in Joey's? And the fact that I found his diary there a mere two days ago told me he had been there again recently.

Second of all, Mikey Way? Marlowe had been in love with Mikey Way since the dawn of time. Marlowe and Mikey lived in the same neighbourhood, maybe three doors down, they were family friends, and if Marlowe had the opportunity to date Mikey way at any point from age 5, to present day, age 17, she would've snatched it straight away. On top of that, he came into Joey's all the time.

Maybe she might know who diary boy is, but how would I even ask? Besides, even if she could straight up tell me who he was, what would I even do with that information? Go up to him and say: Hey, I know all about your life and I want to be your friend? What was I even getting myself into by reading this guy's diary and attaching myself to him?

I put the book in my desk drawer and sighed. I wished there was someone I could tell about this. I considered filling Marlowe in, but I was so embarrassed by this, and I knew she would scold me for reading it in the first place.

It wasn't long before Marlowe croaked awake, stretching and yawning.

"Hey Marlowe... What do you know about Mikey Way's school?"