It's Not a Fashion Statement, It's a Deathwish

Frank rushed into the small studio. It looked mudane from outside, just a plain white door that had a placard on it, reading Gerard A. Way, in black engraved letters. It was his first day at his nee internship. He'd been through three so far for video game design and animation. This one was actually hands-on and he was getting paid. $13 an hour was a bit much but he wasn't complaining.
He balanced the tray of coffees he'd purchased in the crook of one arm and unlocked the door. He slipped in, the bag of pastries clasped between his lips. He turned to see sketches of characters and landscapes plastered to walls. There was a small, rectangular window on one wall. A few computers and a flatscreen were present on a desk with a rolling chair parked out front. In the rolling chair, a person sat. Frank only saw the unruly bright red hair and a gloved hand moving rapidly, as if searching for something.
"Um..." Frank said. He didn't know how to get the person's attention.
The person spun the chair around and Frank found himself facing an interesting looking man. His hair was cherry red, his skin pale and smooth. His hazel eyes were coated in smudged dark eyeliner. He had a cute little nose and nice-sized lips. He was wearing tight black jeans and a black button down shirt. His black tie, almost fading into the shirt, was loosely tied and he had the first two buttons of his shirt open, the sleeves rolled up.
He smiled and crossed his legs when he saw the coffee Frank had. "Any of that for me, Mr. Iero?" he asked in a playful tone.
"Uh, yeah," Frank replied around the bag in his mouth. He handed one to the man. "You're Mr. Way?"
"Call me Gerard," he replied casually. He took a sip of the coffee.
"Um, I didn't add any sugar or creamer yet," Frank said, reaching into the bag for the small containers."
"Oh, it's fine," Gerard replied. "I like my coffee like my soul."
"Black?" Frank rose an eyebrow.
"Oh yes." He slammed the cup onto his desk. "Welcome on board, Frank. This is the workroom. I call it the Ballpit."
"Why?"
"Well, one, I'm a bit playful." He showed Frank a stress-relief toy that was shaped like the Skelanimal bunny. He gave it a soft squeeze. "Plus, it gets hot and I get pantless, so it smells like my balls."
Frank chuckled. This would be quite the internship, he just knew it

Notes

I have no regrets.