Forever is a Long Time . . .

I’ve known Frank ever since we first met in preschool. The teacher sat us next to each other and we didn’t actually speak until three months later. It’s all a little fuzzy now, but I can still remember the first time he ever spoke to me.

One day in December, he just turned to me and said, “Hi, my name is Frank Iero. What’s your name?” I had always been a shy kid but somehow I mustered up enough courage to shakily respond. “My name is Paige Kline.”

“Hi Paige, I like your name.”

“Thank you, I like yours too, Frank.”

Somehow, out of that awkward preschool exchange came one of the best friendships you could ever imagine. From that day on, Frank and I were practically inseparable.

As kids, Frank and I would spend every waking moment together. In elementary school, we spent weekends and afternoons running around in the park. We’d hang out over each other’s houses, doing our homework together and playing for hours in each other’s rooms.

As we neared middle school, I feared that our friendship would change. I’d always heard that boys didn’t want to be friends with girls once sixth grade peeked around the corner. I was afraid I’d lose Frank, even though I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

And our friendship did end up changing; it got stronger.

We still hung out all the time like we did when we were kids, but our time spent together evolved with our age. Instead of running around in the park, we’d spend hours sitting on the swings just talking. Our homework took a little longer to do, but once we finished it we’d be together the whole night just listening to music and watching scary movies that our parents had told us to stay away from. These were some of the best times I’d spent with Frank; the best times I’d ever spent with anyone.

Thirteen years after that first meeting in preschool I sat in my twelfth grade physics class, Frank right beside me. I picked my head up from my notes and just looked at him for a moment. Though he still had the mind of a toddler, it was remarkable how much Frank had changed since that first nervous, preschool encounter.

Frank was different than most other people; he was confident and did what he wanted. Rarely did he give a fuck as to what others thought of him, and that was reflected in almost everything about him. He wasn’t afraid to be who he wanted, dress how he wanted, do what he wanted; he was just Frank.

The boy I’d met in preschool was shy and quiet and never in a million years would you think he would grow up to be the teenage boy I sat next to now. Frank had taken a liking to a punk rock style of sorts. He had jet black hair streaked with red and enough piercings to frighten most young children, but underneath his tough exterior, he was one of the nicest people you’d ever meet, and he had always been that way.

From the first day I’d met him, Frank was one of the most supportive and understanding people I knew. As the time progressed, Frank and I started to build a different kind of friendship. At this point it was obvious to just about every other human in existence that Frank and I were inseparable. We had become a package deal of sorts; rarely did someone talk about one of us without having to mention the other because we were almost always together.

There was barely a time when I wasn’t around Frank. He was the one person I felt like I could go to when I needed someone. Like when I was nine and my parents split up; the first person I ran to when I found out they were getting a divorce was Frank. I ran right to his house without a second thought. When I got there I hugged him and cried for hours, and he just let me. He stayed up with me all that night and let me cry it out; I don’t think anyone else in the world would have done that for me, not then and not now.

Frank had been this way for as long as I’d known him. He was sweet and caring and always knew just what to say. There was barely ever a time when Frank wasn’t there for me, and I felt like the luckiest person alive to have the world’s best friend. This feeling never went away; even now, as high school seniors, Frank and I were still a package deal, with a few more misfits thrown in over the years.

I’d known Gerard almost as long as I’d known Frank. We met in kindergarten over a playground accident. I’d fallen off the swings and, since Frank was out sick that week, one of the only times he ever wasn’t around, the teacher asked Gerard to take me to the nurse’s office. He kept asking me questions like, “does it hurt?” and “are you sure you’re okay?”

At first, I thought he was kind of annoying, but he sort of grew on me. We’d spent the rest of that day together and when Frank came back the next week, the two boys hit it off really well too. Gerard had since become sort of a second brother to me, or third. Everyone always considered Frank and Gerard to be my ‘brothers,' but the one they often forgot was Joshua; my real brother. My twin brother.

Gerard and Frank were closer to me than Joshua ever was. He’d somehow fallen into a totally different social clique than I had, and that was fine with me, but it did result in us not being nearly as involved in each other’s lives. Joshua played football and dated cheerleaders while I played the saxophone and dated no one. I didn’t really mind though, I had my friends and that’s all that mattered to me. Though a boyfriend would be nice.

Along with Gerard came Mikey. They were the real package deal out of all of us. Mikey was Gerard’s kid brother and although he was three years younger than the rest of us, he sure didn’t seem it. Mikey not only looked to be as old as the rest of us, but he acted it too. He was a smart kid and if you weren’t careful you might forget about the age gap, not that it mattered; Mikey was one of us and we loved having him in our group. If you didn’t know that Gerard and Mikey were related you would have thought that they were just the best friends you’d ever seen; they were that close.

Ray was the quiet genius of our group. He was smart and talented but was very modest about all of it. He and Frank both played the guitar and both were amazing. Ray had been playing since he’d ‘found himself’ back in our middle school days and decided he wanted to learn guitar. His brother had bought him his first one in the seventh grade. He practiced nonstop and was one of the best musicians I’d ever heard; but he never believed me when I’d tell him.

Then there was Bob. Tall, strong, a little scary, but a total teddy bear. Sure, he looked like he could kick your ass in a heartbeat - which he probably could - but he was way too nice for that. He was a sweetheart, whether he liked to admit it or not. He was the muscle of the group, keeping us all in line, but still joking around with us and making us laugh. He had moved from Chicago just before our freshman year, which is when we met.

I was walking past the music hallway one day when I heard the most amazing drumming coming from one of the practice rooms. There is no way that’s a student, I thought to myself as I tip-toed down the hall to find the source of the sound. I stopped at the last door on the right and knocked quietly before entering. There was Bob, sitting behind a drum set, obviously having just finished playing.

“Hey,” I said casually as if I’d known him forever.

“Uh, hi?” He responded prompting me to explain myself.

“Oh sorry, my name’s Paige,” I said, extending my hand to him, which he took. “I just heard you playing and wanted to see who it was; you’re really good.”

“Thanks, I’m Bob by the way.”

And that’s pretty much how that started. Not long after, Bob had officially joined ‘the group,’ but they went by a different name now. My Chemical Romance.

Sophomore year they all came together and decided to start a band. Ray and Frank played guitar, Gerard sang and Bob played the drums. They needed a bassist and Mikey, though still only in the seventh grade, was more than ecstatic to join his brother in a band; the only problem was that Mikey didn’t actually know how to play bass.

He was still determined. He bought himself an old, crappy, used bass and sat in his room every day for hours trying to teach himself how to play and once he knew a few notes solid, he officially joined the band of misfits. He was actually the one responsible for their name. He saw the words ‘chemical romance’ put together in a book somewhere and though it sounded cool. He stuck the word ‘My’ in front of it and they had themselves a band name.

I really liked their music. Being a bunch of high school boys, they were no professionals, but they were still really good. Not many other people in the school really knew about the band beside me and the guys, but that was okay; their music was too cool for those preppy losers anyway.

I loved all of those guys to death. They were all great friends and I couldn’t picture my life without any one of them. We were all each other had, but we were all each other needed.

The bell rang, interrupting my slight reminiscing and it took me a moment to remember where I was. Belleville High, period four physics. Frank snapped his fingers in front of my face while joking, “wake up, Paige. It’s time for fifth period.” I pushed his hand out of the way and replied sarcastically, “I wasn’t sleeping, you loser.”

“Then what were you doing?” he asked, faking interest in hearing my response. We gathered our books and left the classroom, heading down the hall to fifth period.

“Just remembering stuff.”

“Like?” I readjusted my backpack straps and looked to Frank. I paused a moment before continuing my explanation.

“Remember how we first met? How awkward it was? It’s just crazy to think how everything turned out after that. Us. Now.”

Frank smiled at me and replied. “Yeah,” he started with a chuckle, throwing his arm over my shoulder as we continued down the hall. “I don’t know what kind of crazy drugs God was on when he decided to cross our paths, but I’m really glad he did.”

He must have read my mind.

We approached Frank’s next class and he waved goodbye to me as he entered the room, but not before quickly saying, “See you at lunch?” I gave him a smile and a quick nod before heading down the hall to my next class.

Notes

This is my latest story out of all of them. It took about three months to plot, write, type up, edit, and re-edit. It's by far one of my favorite stories that I've ever written, fan-fiction or not. I hope you all enjoy it, updates on Fridays!!