XOXO// Frank Iero

Six

Kit

Saturday

Marlowe helped me pick my outfit that evening. Skirt and tights with my Rancid shirt. You can't go wrong. I paired the outfit with my converse and big hoop earrings.

Marlowe pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. "Off on a date! All grown up."

I rolled my eyes. She was allowed to make all the jokes she liked about Tony and I, but when I mentioned her burning, Shakespeare-esque passion for Micheal Way, she got mad.

Downtime were the band we were going to see. I heard they called quite a crowd down from NYC and all around Jersey. They were playing in The Hive. I'd never been before. I didn't think I'd ever go to The Hive. It was one of those places you couldn't really go to as a young woman, even in a group. It wasn't safe. At all. I couldn't count on my fingers how many horror stories I'd heard about The Hive, but The Misfits played there all the time in the 70s, so I always felt like that was calling me there.

Tony got me from my house, seven o'clock sharp, a few houses down the block so my Mom didn't suspect I was leaving with a boy. His car was black, kind of low and was definitely more expensive than something my parents would buy for me.

He gave me a big smile when I got in. The smell of woody, tobaccoey cologne was strong. He kept his left hand on the wheel and used his right to turn down the stereo, which was playing some band I didn't recognise.

"Hey Kit." He smiled, chewing on some gum.

"Hi!" I beamed, buckling my seatbelt.

The car rumbles to a start, revving loudly.

"Hey, listen Kit." He began, changing gears. "The Hive is really dangerous, I'm not trying to baby you or anything, I know you've been to lots of gigs, but it's easy to get hurt or bump into the wrong kind of person. So I'll stay with you tonight, okay? I won't be drinking, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to get drunk— Not that you can't drink if you want to, just be careful. I'll bring ya home and I'll make sure you're okay."

I felt a grin grow on my face. That was really nice of him. It was the bare necessities, but I always said that in a world where the bare necessary are rare, meeting and exceeding them is trophy worthy.

"Thank you Tony." I reached over and squeezed his hand. "I'm not really a drinker anyways."

We chatted for most of the car drive, he parked around the corner from The Hive, presumably he didn't want his car broken into or jumped on, or whatever people that go to The Hive do to an unattended Pontiac.

The breeze was warm on my exposed arms. Tony stayed close to my side, I felt his urge to hold my hand or wrap an arm around me, but if anything happened during our first time hanging out, I would like it to be him initiating it and not me.

The street is full. There's a queue that's about fifty people long, and the bouncer looks like he could squish me with his thumb. I looked at Tony to try and read his expression, but he didn't look fazed. I saw him wave at someone at the front of the bar and he let out a "Yes!" through his teeth.

We made our way past the line of drunk punks and under the barrier to Tony's friend, smoking a cigarette up front. An unfortunately familiar face. The guy who spilled my drink.

"Hey man!" Tony hugged the guy. "You guys opening tonight?"

The guy took a look at me, remembering who I was. He offered Tony a cigarette, which he declined. "Yeah, man. We're on at Eight." He exhaled a plume of smoke. "Who's your friend?"

Tony pulled me over closer by my shoulder. "Oh, yeah, how could I forget? Frank, this is Kit. Kit, Frank. Kit is a friend of Mikey's."

"Nice to meet you Frank." I forced a smile, mustering up some politeness despite my reservations.