An MCR fanfic (which I need help for a name!)

New Girl- at home.

"Hi, what can I do for you? You just lookin' around or d'ya have any preferences?" Her voice is kinda deep, but still feminine. Her black hair is twisted into messy bunches on either side of her head. She has wide, dark brown eyes and pale skin that's accentuated by ruby red lipstick.

"Just lookin' around thanks." I say, smiling back. She seems pretty cool.

"Okay!" And she carries on reading her Kerrang! magazine.

I wander around the dark, cosy room. The walls are plain brick, with posters of bands like Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins dotted around. The carpet is blood red and fluffy. The room is filled with all sorts of musical things. On one wall there's musical grade books. On another there's biographies and autobiographies of famous musicians. Then there's CD's, tapes, records of all sorts of different rock musicians from every different era. I can understand why Ray would come here every day.

Then I spot another door. It isn't labelled, just covered in more band stickers. It could be private, but my curiosity gets the better of me and I have to ask. I turn back to the girl at the desk and shout, "Excuse me? What's through this door?"

She grins. "Open it and see!"

So I twist the handle and the door opens really easily, with a slight creak. Then I step into a bigger room, still as dark, but much better. It's filled with instruments of every kind. Trumpets, flutes, xylophones, drums, pianos, guitars. Naturally, I'm drawn towards the guitars. There's Stratocasters, Telecasters, Fender, Epiphone, Gibson. There's just so many! And it's obvious that the guitars are the 'main attraction' in the room.

"Hey!" A male voice interrupts my inner awe. I spin around and am face-to-face (Finally! Someone my height!) with a teenage punk. He's wearing a white shirt, red tie and a - what seems to be - bulletproof vest. Then it's black black trousers in a seemingly women's cut, and red converse. His hair is a black, deflated Mohawk with the front flopping down over one eye as a long side fringe. The sides are dyed light blond and shaved. He's one of those people that look tanned and pale at the same time, and has big, circular hazel eyes. There are two rings on his face: one through the right side of his nose, and one through the left side of his lower lip. There's also gauges through both of his ears.

"Hey! You have the same piercings as me!" I practically shout.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise/happyness/shock. "Oh my god! That's so cool! Piercings are so cool! I got mine done a year ago, when did you get yours?"

"Two years!"

"Awesome!..." He seems to forget what he was gonna say, then remembers. "So you like guitars?"

I nod. "Yup. I play a Fender standard precision bass. It's red." I always feel the need to say the colour, it means a lot.

"Oh cool! Lindsey was thinkin' of playing bass too!" He says. I must look confused, because he then says, "Lindsey's the girl in the front? LINDSEY!"

She sprints into the room. I can see her properly now: she's wearing a similar outfit to Frank; white shirt, black tie, black waistcoat. But she's wearing a red tartan miniskirt, knee high black socks and black mary-janes. She's taller than both me and Frank, because we're both midgets.

"What's the emergency?!"

"Nothing! I was just telling..." He looks confused. "Sorry I haven't asked yet, I forget stuff when I'm excited. What's your name?"

"Jackson. Elle Jackson. Pleasure to meet you." Bond style, Because Bond's cool.

"Iero. Frank Iero. The pleasures all mine." He holds his hand out and I shake it. It's covered in biro drawings.