“The names Frank.” I whispered to myself as I walked down the corridor, ignoring the strange looks I was getting from other students. My jeans hung low on my waist, the backs dragging on the floor as I dragged my short arse to the reception. “You fell down the stairs and now you wanna go home. There is no other shit. You’re not skiving PE again. Nope, not at all.”

I stumbled slightly as one of the other students grabbed my backpack, laughing as I gasped, slowly starting to choke when I couldn’t catch my breath. “Wow Iero, don’t bloody die on us.” Laughed my friend, Tomas. “Seriously dude.” He said as I doubled over, my hands on my stomach as I fought to catch my breathe. “You okay?”

I shook my head as I reached around to my backpack, fumbling with the zipper and fighting my inhaler free. I snapped the cap off and took a couple of puffs before straightening up and wiping the tears from below my eyes. “You cool now?” Tomas asked as Mikey ran up, a bottle of water clenched so tightly in his fingers that his knuckles were going white. I nodded as I twisted the cap from the bottle and drained it.
“I gotta go home.” I breathed hoarsely. “I am so not doing PE in this state.”
“Well, you don’t have to go home, we have music later. I hear they got a new guitar teacher.” Mikey pleaded, his eyes still on mine as I fought to steady my breath. I sighed before nodding and turned back around, hunting out a free bench to drop onto while my friends played rugby.

---

My mother looked at me skeptically when I told her about the guitar lessons I wanted to take, her eyes squinted as she looked over the form. “You realise this is £50 a term right?” I nodded. “You realise that we don’t have this kind of money, Frank?”
“Mum, please? I just want to do something normal. I hate being ill all the time, this’ll take my mind off how much this sucks. I hate being stuck with needles and I just want to feel normal for once.”
“Frank, honey, I’m sorry, but unless you can get a job to pay for it, you can’t take these lessons.” My mum whispered, her face hurt as I growled in frustration.

I turned on my heels and walked from the room. “Oh, and Frank? Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your smoking. I can smell it on you. It won’t help your health.”
“I’m dying young anyway.” I snapped as I slammed my bedroom door closed and threw myself onto my bed, screaming in frustration.

My phone buzzed against my floor, stopping me mid-scream, coughing slightly as I let fresh-ish air into my lungs. “What?” I snapped as I held it to my ear, annoyed that I was being disturbed.
“Frank, come downstairs please?” My mum asked calmly.
“Why? So you can lecture me about smoking or piss me off about not having the money for guitar lessons? Oh, maybe you’ll tell me you finally remember which of the many men you’ve fucked is my dad? That would be a miracle.” I ranted, not really mad at my mother, more mad at myself.
“Frank, please? Just come downstairs.” She begged, her voice sad as she spoke.
“Fine.” I snapped as I ended the call and climbed to my feet, running my hands through my fringe before leaving the room.

My mum stood in front of the stove, her hands shaking slightly as she stirred whatever she was cooking. “What?” I asked, my arms folded defensively in front of my chest.
“You forgot to take your medication.” She whispered. I groaned loudly as I pushed the pills from the strip and swallowed them dry.
“Happy?” I snapped as I swallowed a glass of water in three massive gulps.

“Frank.” My mum called as I headed towards the stairs again. “What would you say if I could get you the guitar lessons?”
“How mum? We don’t have the money. There is no way I can condone us sacrificing anything else for me to play guitar.”
“I was saving up to go on holiday, but I’ll never have enough for the flights.” Mum explained as she walked over to the cupboards and pulled out the heavy china pot. “I have enough here to pay for the rest of the year, maybe even next year as well. If you having these guitar lessons is what you want, then we can do something else this summer.”
“Mum….I can’t…” I began stepping forwards and placing my hands on hers.
“Shh Frank.” She removed the money from the pot and counted out £50 and placed it in my hands. “I know how much you struggle to fit in, so please, just do it?”

I nodded as I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her ribs through her shirt. “You need to eat mum.” I whispered.
“Not if you’ll go hungry.” She protested, her chin resting on the top of my head.
“Then I can’t take this money. How long have you gone without eating mum? And please don’t lie to me.” I begged, my eyes wide with fear as I waited for a reply.
“About two weeks Frankie.” Mum muttered.
“Eat something tonight?” I asked, waiting for a nod as a reply before retreating up the stairs, my stomach growling in hunger as I flopped onto my bed.

---

“I need you to do me a favour.” Mikey asked as I took a drag on my cigarette, choking as the smoke hit my lungs.
“What the hell?” I practically yelled, Mikey’s face red as he held back a laugh. “Mikey Way, mr independent, suddenly needs me to do a favour?”
“Yeah.” Mikey responded innocently, his teeth showing as he grinned.
“Do you know how fucked up that sounds man?” I chuckled as I stubbed out my cigarette, grinding the ashes down into what slightly resembled a heart.
“Must sound fucking crazy, I know, but I promise this isn’t for me. It’s for my brother.”
“That psycho?” I asked, giggling at Mikey’s pout. “Not that he’s a complete psycho, but he never leaves his dorm.”
“He has reasons Frank, now, are you gonna do me a favour or not?” I nodded and motioned for Mikey to continue, tugging my jacket closer around my shoulders as the wind howled around the clearing. “I need you to make my brother a mix-tape.” I opened my mouth to protest, Mikey’s cold fingers against my lips stopping me saying anything.. “Shut up and hear me out. Gee’s going through a hell of a rough time and he needs something to cheer him up and you have awesome taste in music and...I dunno. I just guess that it would be good for you both.”
“I don’t need any help with anything.” I pouted.
“Really? Since your step-dad left you’ve become such an antisocial motherfucker. I have no idea how I even got you out of the house.” Mikey laughed as he threw a pinecone at me.
“Mum said that the air would be good for me.” I whispered as I climbed to my feet, the wind freezing my stomach as I stretched.
“Well duh you dick, you spend all your time locked in your room, what the fuck do you expect?”
“Fuck off.” I laughed as I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the time, cringing slightly. “Look dude, I gotta go back. Time to get stabbed with a fucking needle again.”
“How long are the doc’s gonna be taking your blood?” Mikey asked as I grabbed my bottle of Lucozade from under the tree.
“Until they decide I’m all fit and healthy I guess.” I sighed.

---

I sat in the doctors office, my feet tapping a steady rhythm on the floor as he opened my file and scanned over the words within, sighing when he got to my most recent test results. “You’re mother tells me you’re still smoking.” Doctor Fieldman muttered as he grabbed a pen. “Why Frank? I thought we discussed this. It isn’t going to help your lungs if you keep filling them with chemicals.”
“Well doc, my answer for you is a very simple one.” I paused as I took a deep breathe, wincing as my chest rattled. “I’m dying young anyway, so why not speed up the fucking process? I mean, who wants a long and healthy life when they know its all going to shit in a couple of years?”
“Frank, don’t be so down about life.” He scolded.
“Tell me that the results give you something to work on and I won’t be so negative.”

“Lift your shirt.” Doctor Fieldman ordered as he placed the earpieces of his stethoscope in his ears, the small circle at the end cold as he pressed it to my skin. “You’re still wheezing. Have you been using your preventer?” He asked.
“Uh…”
“That’s a no. Frank, you have to take them or you won’t get better. It’s simple as that.”
“But I hate it. I hate not being normal and being able to play sports and run around and go to concerts and do any of that shit because no-one knows what’s wrong with me!” I ranted, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes as I tugged my shirt down.
“Frank, we’ll work it out, I promise you. I don’t know how long it will take, but you will be fixed up, I promise.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” I muttered as I accepted the prescription he held out to me.
“Try and stop smoking Frank, you’re only 16. It’s not good for you.”
“Can’t promise that doc.” I sighed as I left the room, tugging my hoodie tighter around me as I hung around outside for my mum to come and pick me up.

---

I groaned loudly as I looked at my CDs strewn all over the floor, the piece of paper in front of me blank of words. My pencil was gripped between my teeth, the bass from my stereo thumping in my chest. Smashing Pumpkins echoed around my room, the words filling my mind as I tried to work out what to put on the mixtape, hundreds of songs rattling around in my mind.

I gave up, dropping my pen on the floor and crawling to my bed, laying down with my forearm over my eyes. My chest ached as I lay there, my muscles cramping as I stretched, a moan leaving my lips as my back popped. “Tomorrow…” I yawned, tears dripping onto my pillow as I kicked off my jeans and curled up under my duvet.

Notes

I hear groans.... 'How many fics is this chick gonna write?' 'Yet another Frerard? God, doesn't she write anything else?'

Well, it's awesome, so shhhh :P

I hope you enjoy it guys!!

Please leave me an opinion or two?? <3

~ Toxic Rebel