FRANK'S POV

The guys always said we'd stop doing this when it stopped being fun. They might've thought thought that THIS was fun, but it wasn't. It was sick and twisted and WAY out of bounds. This wasn't fun anymore. This felt ten times worse than it did after the Black Parade tours.

I was walking. I didn't know where, but I knew I would stop when I got tired. I knew this town like the back of my hand, all of the back streets, all of the alley ways that would get me no where, every place I should stay away from unless I felt like getting fucked in the ass that day.

My feet were taking me somewhere I had seen, but never visited before. A small park surrounded by a tall chain link fence greeted me as I stormed along the sidewalk. I entered, headed straight for the swing set, and sat down, holding my face in my hands. I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't going to cry. Iwasn'tgoingtocry.

Fuck.

I was crying.

How could they have done this? How could [i]Gerard[/i] of all people have done this? How could he tell the guys and some fifteen year old RANDOM about my little girl, my Kayla? She was my deepest secret, shared only with Gerard because I thought I could trust him not to tell. I thought I could trust my BEST FRIEND not to tell. Look at how fucking wrong I was.

That girl didn't even look like me. Or Jess for that matter. Not how I remembered her. Jess was fucking beautiful. Pale, blonde, tall. Everything every single guy at my high school could've wanted. And she chose me for that one night. She hadn't cared that I had no idea what I was doing. When I told her I didn't have a condom she told me not to worry. If she got pregnant we would have a beautiful fucking baby. And we did. At least, in my mind we did. When she told me our little girl was stillborn, I hadn't even wanted to see it. My heart would've broken into a thousand more pieces.

I could remember that day like it was yesterday. Pacing in the waiting room. Pacing like a father should. I felt wrong. I was thirteen. I shouldn't be pacing like that. I shouldn't be a father so young. I was scared. What if something happened to Jess in the delivery? What if something happened to Kayla? What if something happened to both of them? I couldn't take it. Just thinking about it made me tear up. I was wiping my eyes frantically when the nurse came in and called my name. I looked up. Her face was grim, and I felt myself go pale.

“You can see her now.”

I wanted to run to Jess's room. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. I burst in, and there was Jess. She was sweaty and tired looking. What a stupid thought. Of course she would look tired, I mean she had just pushed a baby out of her fucking ass.

There was Jess, but no baby.

My legs felt like led. I suddenly didn't want to run to Jess, to hold her hand, to talk to her, but I had to. I had to move towards her. I had to hold her hand. I had to talk to her. I was moving, and all I could think about was that summer. Talking to her stomach. Ultrasounds. The baby's kick. Our decision to name her Kayla. The way Jess glowed whenever we looked at each other.

Then I was there. She was curled into a ball. I took her hand, and she gripped onto mine like I was the only real thing in the world. She had a defeated look in her eyes when they met mine. I could feel my eyes watering. I didn't want to ask, but I had to. I had to know.

“Jess.....Jess, where's Kayla?”

She just shook her head and started to sob. Nothing hurt more in my life than that moment. The moment I lost-

My phone vibrated, shocking me from my thoughts. I pulled it out from my pocket and saw that I had four missed calls. I checked my messages.

“Frank, it's Ray. Come back. Please don't quit the band. We need you.”

“Frank? Please, I know you must be mad right now, but come back. We can talk about this. It's Bob, by the way.”

“It's Mikey. Please come back. I'm sure Gerard didn't mean it.”

I deleted each message in turn. Then I came to the last one.

“Frankie, I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have done this if I knew you would've reacted like this, but I really thought you would've been overjoyed to meet Molly. I really thought so. Please come back. We wont be My Chemical Romance without you.”

I wanted to throw my phone across the park and have it shatter against a piece of playground equipment. I almost did, but before I could fling it forward, it started vibrating. Another call.

I glanced at the caller ID. Gerard.

I don't know what made me do it, when I was so angry with him, but I answered.

“Listen, I don't care whatever the fuck you have to say. You went way over the line, and I'm not coming back. You hear me? This isn't fun-”

“I'm sorry, this is all my fault. Please come back, Frank.”

I was shocked. I didn't recognize this voice.

“Who is this?”

“I'm Molly. The girl from the hospital.”