XOXO// Frank Iero

Seven

Kit

Sunday

I woke up that morning with a thumping headache. A thumping headache, but a smile on my face. I replayed the night before, and while there were sour moments, the good lasted longer.

Frank walked me home, the entire twenty minute walk, and left me at my door step with a hug and a kiss, and he even got my number. I'm not sure if he went back to bar after that, but thinking back to him, I felt giddy and giggly.

I got dressed and ready for the day. Something simple for my Saturday off, the most that would happen would be a visit from Marlowe, I had nobody to impress.

I lightly dabbed on a bit less makeup than usual and made my bed.

I checked my phone to see one message from an unsaved message.

"Hey. It's Frank. Can I call you really quickly?"

I smiled and thought about all the billion things he could say. Was he gonna ask me on a date? Was he gonna say how much he enjoyed the night before? Ask me over to his house?

I didn't text back, I just called him. He answered after two rings and I smiled when I heard his voice again.

"Hey, Kit." He breathed down the phone. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for last night."

I swallowed, confused a little bit. "Don't be sorry, you kept me safe and walked me home, it was actually really nice of you."

"No, no." He sighed. "I shouldn't have kissed you. You were with another guy, and it caused a fight. It wasn't cool."

I felt a pang of disappointment. Frank's apology caught me off guard. I hadn't expected him to express regret for our kiss.

"It's okay, Frank," I reassured him, trying to sound understanding despite the sinking feeling in my chest. "Things got a bit messy, but it's not on you."

"Thanks, Kit." We both went silent for a little while. "I'd rather not get in the mix of you and Tony, but I'd really like to be your friend. I think you're really cool."

I really wanted to tell Frank that there was no "Me and Tony." but I held back. I didn't want to beg Frank to like me, and I didn't know Frank or Tony well enough to make any opinions on who I think is at fault for their problems.

"That's cool. Bye Frank." I finish, blunt. I didn't really wait for him to say goodbye before he hung up, frustrated and red faced.

I went to my drawers and pulled out the red leather diary. I wanted answers. I wanted to read. I flicked through pages and pages, scanning each one to try and find one that said the name "Frank" when I found something else.

Dear Diary.
I wish I was rich.
I wish I was as cool as fucking Tony hot shot. He's taller than me and older than me and he has a car, and he could get any girl he wanted. He's playing guitar way longer than me and he wrote riffs that I wasn't able to play no matter how hard I tried. He has like 20 pairs of shoes and more cool tattoos than I could count on both hands. Fucking hell. In a dream world, I would be aspiring to be someone cooler, well no, in a dream world I wouldn't be aspiring to be anyone other than myself, but I especially wouldn't be aspiring to play some upper class, girlfriend stealing metal-core kid. Tony Perry must die.
XOXO-ME

I sighed. Back to square one. I had no more of a clue who Diary Boy was. I felt some sort of relief though, because the only thing that was drawing me to Tony was the fact that he was Diary Boy as far as I knew. I sighed and ran through the options of who Diary boy could be.  He had to be someone who knew Mikey and Tony.  A boy, who played guitar in a band.. who knew Mikey and Tony. The painfully obvious answers were Mikey's older brother, and Frank. But the line about Tony writing riffs that diary boy couldn't play, told me that it was probably one of Tony's band mates.

All I had to do was to find out if the singer in Tony's band was also a guitar player.  But, even at that— Would Diary boy be ruled out if he was a friend of Tony's? More than likely. I sighed and decided to read another random page of the diary.

Dear Diary.
I didn't get a call back from Joey's. I need to work somewhere. I need enough money to run away. I want to get a train and ride it till the end of the line and then do it over and over until I end up somewhere warm and quiet. I don't need my band. I get a fucking pathetic 20 bucks a gig if I'm lucky. I'm almost thinking about being a drug mule or something. I have to leave before dad leaves a lasting mark on me or breaks my nose. He came home drunk last night and punched me in the face, my lip swelled up real big and it reminded me of Marina. When I write it down, it's almost like saying it out loud. It feels kind of too real and I start to realise everything that's actually been happening to me. I just want to feel loved. I want someone to hold me and tell me I'll be okay and kiss me and say I'm worth something. I don't know if I'd believe them, but I just wanna hear it. Even if I had to give them a script, even if they were a stranger. Fuck, I sound like such a desperate fool. But I am, that's all I am, really. I'm so fucking desperate, but I'm so scared to trust someone. Help.
XOXO-Me