Frank Iero and the Meaning of Life

Chapter Three - OCs in the Hands of an Angry Author

Great. Just fucking great.

I thought that perhaps for a moment, I was completely free. No more shipping. No more bullshit. No more awful dialogue. But, once again, the universe loves to play mischief on me just a little too much.

"Whaddya mean, I have to go back?" I said. "I'm free now!"

"It's not that simple," she said. "Your author is still writing your story. If she finds out that you're missing, seriously bad things could happen."

"Oh, big deal," I said. "I drop out of the story for a few weeks' vacation. So what?"

"You're a critical part of the story," she said. "If you're completely absent, your author might think that something is wrong with the website. After that, there's a good chance that she'll give up and delete your story entirely."

Delete the story? I would give anything to have that piece of shit fic burned to the ground.

"Deleted?" I said. "So what? I get off the hook."

Melinda lowered her voice and moved in closer. "If your story gets deleted," she said, "everyone who is within it will...die."

A cold shock ran through my body. "...everyone?" I asked.

Melinda nodded. "Everyone will disappear into nothingness," she said. "It'll be like they never even existed."

My mind immediately thought of Gerard. And then Mikey. And Ray. All of them, dead.

"Well, shit," I muttered. "How the hell do I get back to my story?"

Melinda got up from her seat. "Follow me," she said. "I can show you a map to the subway system."

I followed her over to a rack of brochures, and she handed me one. "The closest station in town is three blocks north and to the right," she said. "You can't miss it."

I opened up the map, and to my surprise, it was holographic and completely animated.

"If you get lost," she said, "it's voice activated. Just ask it where you want to go."

I turned the thing upside-down and inside out; I had never seen anything like it in my entire life.

"This is some fancy shit," I said. "Thanks for the pointers."

"My pleasure!" she said. "Stay safe!"

I made my way out onto the streets, only to be greeted by more massive art-deco skyscrapers drenched in neon-orange lighting. And when I say massive, I mean massive; the impossibly tall buildings seemed to stretch on forever into the sky, and I couldn't even tell where they were supposed to end.

It appeared to be evening, for what I assumed to be this place's sun was setting, but time was fake as far as I was concerned at this point. I almost forgot which direction was north, because I was too busy gawking at how incredibly clean and white everything was. Before I could get too distracted, I quickly consulted my holographic map, pinpointed the nearest train station, and heeded Melinda's words.

As I walked down the street, I felt as everyone was staring at me; all of them were dressed in the wackiest 60s mod clothing I had ever seen. My musty uniform stuck out like a sore thumb; luckily, nobody seemed too weirded out by my presence.

The air faintly smelled like a new car and felt like room temperature. Although I already missed Newark, it was nice to be somewhere in which it wasn't cold as hell.

I turned to the right after three blocks and peered at my map once more; sure enough, a train station stood out in the distance, calling me. I shoved the map down my pocket and tried to stay focused; lives were on the line, after all.