My Harlequin Romance (MCR Fan Fiction)

Chapter One

Author's note: So, I officially have no life so I've decided to write one of these bad boys. It's not nasty and perverted like some of the MCR fan fiction that I've seen *Shudder*. It's NOT slash. It mainly deals with Gerard and Mikey. Gerard looks like he did in Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, because it is SO hard for me to imagine him as a teenager. 

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My Harlequin Romace

“The crickets still sing in October. And lilly, she's trying to bloom. Tho she's resting her head on the shoulder of death, she still shines by the light of the moon.”

― Kevin Dalton

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The rain dribbles off of the pale, fading leaves. This cold New-England winter was really getting to me. It seems like it rains all year here in Jersey, way more than it ever did in New York. I leaned back against the railing of the stair steps. Most students use free period to go and waste money at the dingy arcade a mile from school. Although, most students at Belleveiw are whores or Juiceheads. It seems just like yesterday I was at the Moody School for the Gifted in New York City. Now, I'm here at the armpit of the United States. I notice the rain is sliding onto my drawing pad. It hits the face of my very dark looking Anime girl I was drawing and ran, making her look like she's bleeding from the eyes. Smirking, I folded the drawing into my portfolio and stood up.

I feel so rejected here. You could say I'm the painfully stereotypical goth girl. I have always hated stereotypes though. I think people think that because I wear combat boots and dark outfits, and my hair currently is dark blue, which really pissed off the princepal when I moved here. I've been here for two months, and I still don't have any friends. It's not much of a change though. I never had friends at Moody anyway and being all alone isn't even that bad anyway.

The rain begins to fall harder, and I turn and quickly walk inside the school. The hallways are silent, which is a rare occurrence here. There's always fighting or yelling or some sort of drug dealing, which shows you what colorful people I attend school with. I start walking towards the Art Room, the only place I really feel welcome in the entire galaxy.

Outside of the art room in the display case, I notice Mrs. Eight, the art teacher had changed out the portraits. This was a rare occasion. Mine this week was really good. I had worked on it night after night for almost a month. Erasing and retouching and darkening a lightening. Nothing I did for the portrait ever seemed perfect enough, so I worked tirelessly until I realized I was as close to perfection as humanly possibly with this portrait. My portrait was on me simply smirking. Simple expression, but I had challenged myself from square one to make this the best portrait Mrs. Eight had ever seen.

I quickly scan the portraits, and I'm slightly disappointed when my eyes don't lock it on the first run though. I scan again, and I nearly throw up my nonexistent lunch. Where my portrait should be is portrait of a young man. He's got a batman mask on over his long, shaggy black hair. He's smirking at the camera, in a very evil villain sort of way that suddenly irks me. Disgusted, I step away. Because of the mask, I can't tell who he is. "Probably better for him," I think. Usually, people do the mask thing or guard their face when they're too ugly for a real portrait, which makes me sound like a bitch, but I am being completely serious.

I turn my back to the portrait, and I walk into the art room. "No sense in worrying about it," I think, rubbing my forehead with my eyes closed as I step into the room, "Perhaps Mrs. Eight made a mistake."

I wish I would have been paying attention. My stupid flurried head was too busy spinning and obsessing about the portraits to pay attention to the young man sitting in a desk way too close to the door. I ran right into him, knocking the young man, as well as myself, onto the floor. I picked myself quickly, mentally punching myself in the face for my awkwardness.