Frank Iero and the Meaning of Life

Chapter Four - Freaky Friday

After two more days of hell, the author finally decided to get off her lazy ass and write more of the story.

A time skip happened and launched me straight into the month of April (which, as you know, is a sacred month). It was nice to have semi-decent weather that wasn't as cold as a witch's tit, but Gerard's birthday came right around the corner. I had no idea what exactly Bridget had in store for me, but I seriously hoped that the fic would stay fluffy and not devolve into a degenerate's fantasy.

Strangely enough, Mikey and Ray showed up to the party for absolutely no reason. It had been a year since the band broke up, but Bridget did not seem to understand the concept of bad blood.

Boy, I sure love me a good plot hole.

In any case, I reluctantly showed up to his house and knocked on the door. Gerard answered and looked excited to see me, as usual.

"Hey, Frank!" he said, "glad you could make it! We thought you wouldn't show up."

"Traffic was shit," I mumbled. "Sorry for arriving late."

I entered the living room and saw Ray playing Guitar Hero all by himself. Although it was admittedly pretty awkward to see him again, it felt great to interact with someone who didn't just want to fuck me.

"Hey, man," I said to him. "How's it going? Long time no see."

He focused in on the screen and walked around the space in front of the couch. "Things are pretty alright," he said. "I'm pursuing a solo career. How about you?"

I seriously didn't want to admit it, but I had to be honest. "I'm working at a Jersey Mikes," I said quietly.

Mikey's head shot up, and he laughed. "I didn't know you were working for me," he said sarcastically.

"Real fucking funny, Mikey," I replied. "Maybe you should try working a minimum wage job in the post-apocalyptic part of Newark."

Gerard came over and put his hand on my shoulder. "Woah, there," he said. "Let's not be too pissy, here. At least we're still together in some ways."

What a load of bullshit. I just showed up for the food, so I began to search for any kind of snacks lying around.

"Hey, G," I said, "did you get a cake or something? Or at least some chips?" I entered the kitchen and rummaged around.

"I got us a cookie cake," he said. "It's in the fridge. We're gonna cut into it in a little while."

I found a large bag of Takis and dug into it; after that, I raided the fridge for a bottle of beer and downed it pretty quickly. At this point, I'd take anything to numb the pain of my fake existence.

"Hey, Frank!" said Ray. "You want to try and beat me at Guitar Hero?"

I made my way back into the living room and slumped down into the couch. "I don't really feel like it," I muttered.

"Aw, c'mon," he said. "What's the matter? You afraid to lose?"

I shoved another handful of Takis into my mouth. "No," I said. "I'm just feeling like shit at the moment."

Ray sat down next to me and chuckled. "Excuses, excuses," he said.

Mikey picked up a controller. "I'll play with you," he said. "Don't bother with Frank. He's too dead inside to play."

I wanted to argue with him, but he was partially right. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be stuck in this boring-ass fic. I didn't want to be trapped inside the lamest party in the world. I just hoped that the author would stop writing so that I could go and drink myself to death in Wattpad.