Host for a broken soul

As Of yesterday I got kicked down to mailroom...just when I thought my life couldn't suck more. There's a letter for "Frank iero" what kind of douche name is that? He must be new. I'm on my way to the second floor to deliver the letter and I accidentally run into this poor slob with my cart...
or...maybe he's not a poor slob...it's that new Intern that I see at the station. He let out a girly squeal when I hit him. "I-I'm sorry" he mutters.

usually I just scoff at people and brush it off but something clicked and I felt guilt swim through my stomach "nonono here, let me help you up" I beg, sounding like a wuss. I swore off dating girls when I was 13 but as I recall I never promised boys...it's a terrible thought But his eyes are sparkling like the finest champagne.

"uhm, sorry for asking, but do you know a Frank iero?"
"that's me..." he replies scarcely .
"oh" I mutter...and think in my head _what a beautiful name_
"you have mail ...here..." I say as I hand him the envelope

Notes