Things Are Better If I Stay (Gerard Way)

Chapter 1

BRRRRRRRRRING! My alarm clock blared at exactly 5:45 a.m. "Shit!" I exclaimed, flailing around in surprise until I fell on the floor with a loud thud. I groaned and rolled over pulling myself up, but my heavy black curtain down, earning a loud crash. "Uggggggggg" I moaned, stumbling to my closet. I pulled on black skinny jeans, a Blink-182 t-shirt and my black combat boots, which were covered in lyrics and doodles. I went downstairs to the kitchen, (successfully falling down the stairs) to find it empty. "ALICIA SIMMONS GET YOUR LAZY ASS TO STARBUCKS ASAP!" I yelled up the stairs. I may have sounded like a demanding bitch, but every morning she wakes up at 5:00 a.m. and goes to get me and her coffee. Without my coffee, well, lets not talk about that. She busted through the door, giving me my caramel macchiato (2 sugars) and an annoyed stare. "Impatient much?" She said, taking a sip of her pumpkin spice latte. "Yes I am, I'm very impatient. We remember the last time I was coffee deprived, right?" I replied, recalling the time she forgot to get coffee and I got suspended for a month. (The bitch was asking for it! It wasn't my fault!) She sighed. "Oh Hailey, what ever will I do with you?"

I should introduce myself, I'm Hailey Maechester, I'm 17 (18 next April) and I'm a senior in hell. Oh, did I say hell? I meant high school. Eh, same thing. My dad left when I was 3, and my mom died in a car accident a year ago this November. Being an adolescent, I was an orphan, and my friend Alica Simmons took me in. I owe my life to her. She's 18, 19 on Novermber 8th. It's October 24th, and my birthday is April 2nd. I'm the shortest person on the senior academy, I have naturally brown hair but I dyed it neon rainbow on the last week of summer. I have a lip ring, and I dress mainly in black with dark makeup. Yeah, my style gets me called and "emo faggot" and such, but you get used to it. My favorite band is Blink-182, and I like bands like that. People tell me I sing really well, and I'd like to think so, but that's really the only talent I have. I have 3 friends at school, Rachel Turner, Jamia Nestor and Frank Iero. NO FRANK IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND. We're just friends, he likes Jamia. (Between you and me, Frank and Jamia would be ADORABLE together!) Jamia is awesome at bass, and Rachel is one of the best gutairists I know. Well, besides Frank. He's a god on the electric. We're the outcasts, the "loners" so to speak. But that's enough about me.

OH SHIT! It's the 24th! Frank's birthday is in a week! "Alica! Frank's birthday's in a week!" I said, panicking. "I haven't gotten him anything! Alica help!" She gave me a quizzical look. "Hailes? You got him 2 albums and a misfits shirt. Remember?" I stared at her blankly. Suddenly I remembered. "Oh! Right! Thank god!" I sighed in relief. She laughed. "You have the worst memory, Hailey. Now go fix your hair and do your makeup. You look like shit!" I laughed and ran up the stairs. I did my regular makeup, (A/N: she does her makeup like Helena in the music video) and straitened my hair. I grabbed my backpack and picked up my phone. I texted Rachel, Jamia and Frank. "I'm leaving in five, be here or I'm leaving your ass here." Thirty seconds later, the doorbell rang. I opened the window (my room was right on top of the foyer) and yelled down at them, "Oi! I said five minutes, not five seconds!" They all looked up and Rachel yelled "we were on our way when you texted! Now get down here, lazy ass." They all laughed and I slammed the window and ran downstairs.

I gave Alica a quick hug and shouted a goodbye as I closed the door. I was driving, Jamia called shotgun and Rachel and Frank were in the back. "How much you wanna bet?" I said to Jamia with a smirk. Everyday me and Jamia bet how many times we will get called names, shoved into a locker or get a detention slip. I always say 21. She says 15. "Two comics." She she replies, a grin spreading on her face. "Ah, you guys are no fun! I say 25, four comics." Frank calls from the back. I stared at him in the rearveiw mirror in disbelief. "Four?" I gape. Rachel laughed. I want in! 13, five comics!" Her statement earns a gasp from us all. "Five?" We reply in unison. "Hell yeah!' She shouts, first pumping. 'I'm feeling lucky motherfuckers!" We all laugh. I gasp and squeal excitedly. "We all have music today!" I cheer. On Mondays we all have music together and we have the COOLEST music teacher. He lets us practice in the "studio" since we're more advanced in musical talent than everyone else. We practice as a band, (Jamia on bass, Rachel on rhythm guitar, Frank on lead guitar, me singing and a guy named Bob on drums. He's awesome, but that's the only class we have with him, so he's not really a "friend") and we do some covers, and I write some. But who cares? We all have a good chance of having a musical career, but it's the start of the school year. C'mon.