A Red-Haired Heaven

A dinner at my family's house should be revigorating. It should be a time where we all gathered and talked about everything before we all helped cleaning the dishes and played board games. That's typical, or it should be, right?
Wrong.
A dinner at the Iero's family house meant ''someone kicked out and left alone'' or ''arguments about Frank's lifestyle''. At least it did when I was nineteen. My so-called ''mother'' decided that her son wasn't what she wanted, so she (with the help of my stepfather) just told me I just move. Some might consider 19 as a tender age to move alone; For me, it was a more than needed change.
This day was an attempt to make things better, but - as usual - my mother and my beloved stepfather held forces against me and, once again, started criticizing me for everything and for nothing.

- Fine! Just fucking leave me alone!
- You shouldn't even come back, your dad and I can't stand you in this house anymore! You always have to ruin everything, don't you? Family dinners, holidays... You're too busy going out and doing nothing! You spend your nights at that hideous club doing God know what! - My mom shouted from the dining room. I was more focused on grabbing my stuff so I could get out of there.
- Have you ever, I don't know, thought about the day I actually told you I was going to work there? Huh? Have you ever thought about that possibility? That I have to work in order to pay the rent of the apartment I'm living in? Because you fucking kicked me out? Because I wasn't convenient to you?! Well, let me break it to you, maybe I won't come back! Why should I bother if I don't have a fucking family after all? And besides, you should really fucking think before you talk! - I spat. My stepfather obviously kept on eating like nothing was happening, my mom eventually got up and ran towards me maybe in an attempt to grab me or something, but it was too late.

I stormed out of their house after that fight was over, slamming the door, eventually breaking it - with absolutely no regret from my behalf - and (as always) I thought to myself:

''What makes you so stupid to the point you believe they even like having you as their son?''.

My parents (well, my mom and my stepfather) and I never really got along. My grandma raised me since I was practically a baby because apparently, my mom was too busy traveling and having fun. But she passed away a few years ago. I never knew my biological father, because he left my mom when I was only one year old, but that never bothered me. I wasn't worried about meeting him if he was the one who left.
And of course, it had to start raining when I got out of the house. Isn't that lovely?

A ten minute run under the rain left my lungs burning. Plus, I was soaking wet.
I finally made it to the bus stop and tried not to freeze by rubbing my chest - if you do that, your arms will warm up by itself (Batman movies are educational too).
I took the bus after five minutes of waiting - the only luck I had that day - and sat on the last seat, even though there were only a good-looking old lady and a very weird man with a mole on his nose, on the bus.
I put my earphones on and I knew just the right thing to hear to fall asleep for the next hour of the trip until I got to my place, which was on the last stop of that bus, actually.

- Last stop, dude!
- Uhm, what? - I answered, still a bit sleepy.
- This is the last one, man! You should head home, you look like shit. - I sure felt like it.
- Oh, thanks, Jason. See ya.

As always, we high fived and I got out of the bus. That bus driver was probably the person who knew me better. I lived alone, I had no friends. I actually had a band, with who I played some small concerts in an underground club, The Celebration Club, but I never bothered knowing them since we were hired individually. We would just go, play some shit and earn money enough for basic needs. In reality, we were pretty cool. And my family... Well, you already know the deal. If my grandma was still living I know I'd have her too, though. But the closest thing I ever got to a friend was Jason, and Jason was awesome. Sometimes when the bus was empty and there was just me and him, I talked to him about music, comics, movies, etc. He was really chill, and I loved his long black hair and his nose ring that made him look like Slash, like, they could be twins, honestly. He reeked of weed; I smoke weed too every now and then, but he was that one person you know it was entering somewhere because of the smell that followed him. Many times, whenever his shift was over and I had nothing to do, we would hang out at the bus stop, smoking and having the weirdest convos. I remember one time we were actually having a full on debate about how our hands never had fingers - we kept saying we had little legs instead of fingers. And then we would just burst out laughing about that, followed by a trip to the convenience store to get the ever-so-famous munchies, which sometimes were actually similar to my dinner or my breakfast. He usually would show up to the gigs at the club, too, whenever he could.

From the bus stop to my place it was only a two/three-minute walk. I got home at (probably) midnight or something like that, and I immediately went to take a shower after throwing my cellphone, wallet and my mp3 to my bed.
After that, I followed my night routine: grabbing whatever there was in the fridge, lay down on the couch and falling asleep while watching a movie. Sometimes I really started considering if I should move my bed to the living room. But no way I was going to do that - besides the fact that I can be pretty lazy sometimes, there was just no point in doing it.
I'm just a lazy, gay, tattooed, Italian little shit, born and raised in New Jersey, the retarded brother of New York City, who loves his beautiful Pansy - and by that, I mean my guitar. Yeah, I know. But I don't know either. - with a secret passion for photography. But no one could know of that. They could know I'm the gay guitarist, but never about that.

So... Yeah. I present you the thrilling life of Frank Anthony Thomas Iero. Yay... right?

Notes