He stared out the window for three days before, not stopping for anything except life's basic necessities. There was no point in trying to get his attention, he was too far gone for that. The band was all he had known since his teenage years, and never in his life did he think it would come to this. It was all ending with not even a chance of salvation. My Chemical Romance was dying. Staring at the eighty five words that ended it all, he couldn't help but smile the tiniest bit. He was a part of his favorite band. They had toured and recorded and played and loved and lost, all of it together. So many good memories happened because he took a chance as a stupid teenager. Frank never wanted a real job, and doubted he'd ever have one. Maybe the break up was a good thing. It might help them in the long run, and who knows, maybe they would eventually get back together. Frank cried long and cried hard for all the memories he'd made with his best friends. There would never be anything like it again. The hours were spent oscillating between optimism and pessimism as he watched the long flood of tweets, blogs, and commemorative videos. He thought about how many lives they'd changed over the years and how many more they would've changed, had the band continued. Even with the amount of other projects he was working on, nothing could ever compare to My Chemical Romance. He watched silently as people cried, tore down posters, destroyed themselves, and questioned why. They new this would happen. That's why they'd kept the breakup secret for so long. It could've been clean and simple, like ripping a bandaid, but things that should be simple and easy rarely ever are.