Carousels & Coffins

Chapter 10

The weeks following the purchase of his guitar passed like sand through Frank's fingers. Well, more along the lines of sandpaper, as they did not leave him with less than a few scrapes. In a montage of band rehearsals, numerous insults from Ray (all said in good humor, of course, with the inclusion of Frank's favorite: Don't be such a fucking pansy!), and the occasional dry thirst that came with blood shortages, Frank had worked his way into the tight knit group that he had previously admired.

The focus on the band had left his previous nightmare somewhere at the back of his mind. It hardly kept him up during the day anymore, but it couldn't be forgotten completely. The candid depiction of gore and death he'd experienced was too much even for him, a self-proclaimed horror movie fanatic, to strike from his mind in its entirety.

Gerard hadn't mentioned the incident since; Frank felt a mixture of relief and sour disappointment at the dismissal of the event. He could go without the nightmares for the rest of eternity (quite literally), but every time he thought of the comfort that Gerard had brought him in the midst of his fears, there was a small tug in his chest that he couldn't quite explain. Or, perhaps, he didn't want to explain. Not now, anyway.

Thankfully, Frank found his place within the band without a hitch, and, once he knew the entirety of their discography—a whopping total of three songs off of their demo tape—it was as if he'd known them forever. While Matt had come up with various excuses to not be present at rehearsals, the three roommates had made do without him, since Frank was insistent upon a more rigid rehearsal schedule. Frank pored himself over the perpetual improvement that, at this stage, the band needed before they went into any studio and attempted to create new music.

While Pencey Prep was not what one would call "professional" by any means, Frank still had standards. The members took Frank's criticisms and compliments in stride, however, and My Chemical Romance's new line-up came together quickly and painlessly. The feeling of belonging that Frank got whenever he strummed along with Gerard's low crooning, or when he discussed a rhythm line with Ray, invigorated him. This is what he was meant to be doing, no doubt about it. Lucky thing, too, because the razor-like fangs in his mouth didn't exactly leave him with another choice.

Frank was mindlessly plucking at the strings of his guitar, perched upon his rickety bed, when he heard a tapping on his door. It was soft, so it had to be Mikey. Ray would've clomped his way up to the door and knocked to the tune of some over-played jingle, while Gerard, knowing no bounds, wouldn't have knocked at all.

His suspicions were confirmed when a quiet voice came from the other side of the door, "Frank, Gerard and Ray are calling a band meeting down in the kitchen. Mandatory attendance, and all that." A moment passed, and his light footsteps could be heard as he walked away from the door.

Frank set his guitar down carefully as he got up, making his way out the door and down the stairs. Once he was seated at the kitchen table, the meeting commenced.

Ray cleared his throat before speaking, "So. We've come a long way as artists ever since Frank just so happened upon us," he began, the hint of a smile teasing at the corners of his lips. "And for that, we are endlessly grateful. Who knew that Halloween of 2002 would be the day an angel descended from heaven, complete with the fingers of the best rhythm guitarist to ever--"

With clear impatience, Gerard cut in. "Yeah, uh, all this to say... we have a gig on Saturday. It's at this dive downtown. Fun times." Concise, as always. Gerard swiftly left the room.

With Gerard gone, a silence fell over the remaining band members. Gerard's isolation was old news to everyone present, so his rapid exit wasn't exactly surprising. Mikey was the next to retreat to his room, leaving only Ray and Frank in the small kitchen.

The silence lasted for a moment longer before it was broken by Frank opening the refrigerator, out of which he procured the last packet of blood. He whistled, "We're out of blood..." he poured out the packet's contents into his thermos, thinking about what happened the last time their blood supply had run out. Gerard took care of it, he noted, anxiety rising like bile in his throat.

"Frank." Ray's voice startled him out of his own head, compelling him to turn toward his bandmate. "You know how Gerard has been acting... strangely?"

Frank replied, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah. What of it?" he took a casual sip of blood through his bendy straw. "Do you know something?"

"No! Not at all," Ray smiled, "But. He is upset."

Frank's brow furrowed at this. "Yes."

"And. We are out of blood."

The look of confusion did not leave Frank's features. In fact, the cryptic manner in which Ray was currently speaking deepened the crease that had formed on Frank's forehead. "I'm... I'm not following."

"I know just the way to cheer Gerard up, and deal with the shortage of blood in our household."

At this, Frank nodded slowly, walking over to the chair directly across from Ray. He took a seat, and another sip from his thermos, the pink bendy straw darkening as he sucked the blood out of it. "I'm listening."

Ray smirked at this, leaning across the table, toward Frank. "There's this blood drive going on at this movie theater, just a few blocks away from here. You know, donate blood, get a free movie ticket. I'm thinking... we should get some more blood. From it."

Frank suppressed a giggle. Ray had the best of intentions, but he could never really express his grander schemes effectively. It wasn't through any fault of his own; put quite simply, Ray's brain just moved much faster than his mouth did.

"Okay, and how do you propose we do that?"

"We... steal it?" Ray replied, unsure of himself, especially around a concept as weighty as theft. "I mean. I doubt we can just... walk in there and take the blood. But, um... oh, god." He ran a hand through his curly hair. "Clearly, Grand Theft Auto prepared me for absolutely nothing."

Frank chewed on the bendy straw thoughtfully for a moment, before returning to the conversation at hand, aglow with the gift of enlightenment.

"We need Mikey."