Burn Bright (a my chemical romance/Frank Iero fanfiction)

Chapter 2

"This is my house!" Frank announced. It was average sized, 2 story. "Come inside. I'll take you for a tour."

"This is the spare room, we keep all different junk in here." In the room was lots of photo albums, books and many other stuff in shelves. But what really caught my eye was the drumset in the corner.

"I didn't know you played drums Frank."

"Oh, no I don't. This is my grandfathers set. He tried to make me play once but I preferred guitar."

Frank led me into the room next door. "And finally, welcome to my lair." His room was painted black, and posters of bands and movies covered the walls. His double bed was unmade and clothes covered most of it, like my own bed. By the door stood an electric guitar and a bass guitar.

"Cool room," I say. "You have really good taste in music."

"Thanks, hey, I'll play a song for you if you like."

"Okay, I'd love that." I said as I sat down on his bed.

"Cool, this is called The Boy Who Destroyed The World by the AFI." He played and he sung the song better than anyone. He shut his eyes and got completely lost in the music. When he finished, he sat down next to me. "What'd you think?"

"Frank...that was amazing...you are amazing! You should be huge already!"

"Thanks," He said. "I try."

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When I arrived home, my mum was surprised. "Aura!" She called out. "Why were you out so late?"

"I made a new friend. His name is Frank." I smiled at her before climbing the stairs to get to my room, missing every second step. I feel so much chirpier after being at Franks.

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1am?! Oh man, I can't sleep. Thoughts are rushing through my brain. Frank. I like Frank. A lot, maybe more than a friend. But I doubt he likes me. He just found someone that was friendly to him and hung out with her. Frank won't talk to me tomorrow. Why would he? Why would he like a fat-ass emo like me? With my scars, fat and stretch marks, I bet I'm so unattractive, he repulses me. God, Aura your stupid. Why would you start to fall for a man you know your not good enough for? You'll never be loved. I hate me. I hate me. I hate me... All of these thoughts bubble up inside of me. I'm full of negativity, and I need to release it. I know what I have to do, what I have done so many times before. I head down to the kitchen and grab a knife before going to the upstairs bathroom.

The knife passes clean through my arm slowly, and blood trickles down onto the bench. It hurts, but I am so overwhelmed with relief that I can hardly feel it. I keep going until I made it to my elbow. I then wrap my arm in an old towel and go to bed.

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