[align=center][img width=477]http://data3.whicdn.com/images/169485687/large.gif[/img]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 475px; text-align: left; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 37px; color: #000000; text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px white; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 3px; margin-top: -29px;]frank anthony iero[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; color: white; font-size: 11px;]touring could get really fucking annoying sometimes. i mean, of course i loved touring and i loved being smashed in a a tour bus with the three other people i loved most and cramming tour dates in almost every night and being in constant motion on the road, but it got pretty frustrating after a while. we'd been on the road for about a week and a half and already i was getting sick of mikey and gerard's fighting. they were brothers, so they obviously were gonna bitch at each other for everything, but when it was at midnight when me and ray were trying to sleep after a three hour long show, i wanted to grab them both by their mussed up little heads and smash them together. in order to refrain from doing that, i reminded myself this is what they always did on tour. on tour. we were actually on fucking tour. that always brought a smile to my face and let me drift off to the sweet, sweet sound of arguing between the way brothers.
in all honesty, i still wasn't re-accustomed to this lifestyle yet. the early mornings and late nights had swiftly taken a toll on me, and i was always exhausted and my fingers were always raw and sore from playing so vigorously each night. it had gotten to the point i wasn't even guilty for popping pills like candies, hiding them under my bunk mattress and taking them when the guys weren't in the bus or were going out for smoke breaks or something. i relied on them to keep me going throughout the day, to keep my brain actually functioning during the times we weren't playing and i wasn't hyper aware and energetic as hell. i made myself a promise that i would toss them down the drain once i reinserted myself back into the life of a rock star, and i ignored the fact that deep down i knew perfectly well those types of promises were short-lived and empty.
the sun was warm on my face when i blinked my hazel orbs open that morning. running my hands over my face, i was made keenly aware of how greasy and sweaty i smelled. none of us had time to shower when we finally got back to the bus from the show at 12:30 in the morning, and now i regretted it. wrinkling my nose, i scuffed a tattooed hand through my stringy hair as i flipped over on my side, eyes instinctively drawn to gerard's bunk across from me. empty. what was he doing up this early in the morning? come to think of it, what the hell was i doing up this early in the morning? i was anything but a morning person. stretching my arms above my head and knocking them painfully off the wood in the process, i slid out of my bunk and blearily looked around for a shirt. i had some tossed haphazardly around my bunk and on the floor, and knew i would get my head bitten off by mikey when he woke up, but i didn't really care. i had managed to slip into misfits pajama pants the night before, but my matching shirt was nowhere to be found, and i shrugged to myself, bringing my hand up to trace over the 'i am a graveyard' and winged vial tattoo inscribed on my chest.
emerging from the bunks, i paused in the doorway, my eyes enraptured by the sight in front of me. gee was sitting in a chair in the literal most cutest way possibly, all cross-legged and curled up, with his pen scribbling feverishly over a pad of paper. his hair was a crimson grease-mop and you could have likened his disheveled morning appearance to that of a mad scientist. a small smile lifted the corners of my lips as i leaned against the bus wall and watched him work, gazed at the intensity of his eyes focused on their work. i knew that look, even if i hadn't witnessed it in over six years. gerard was writing again, and it sent my heart and stomach into excited little flips and flutters. he had absolutely no idea i was standing there watching him, and i swear i could've stood there all day watching him chip away at his passion. it was entrancing and beautiful and odd all at once, and i absolutely loved it.
the wonderful smell of coffee finally made its way to my senses, however, and its call was much too strong to resist. "of course you made coffee," i scoffed teasingly, smirking at his little jump as i made my presence known. uncrossing my arms, i stretched my jaws wide in another yawn, hands reaching for the ceiling in a stretch that popped my aching back muscles as i padded forward on silent feet to the kitchen. slipping a mug from out of the cabinet, i filled up on the lifeblood liquid and plopped down in the chair next to gerard, pulling one knee up against my chest and hugging my arms around it to keep it there. "whatcha working on?" i asked, deliberately keeping my eyes off of the enticingly close pad of paper. i was dying to see lyrics, but i wouldn't look at them unless he wanted me too.
(( i know it's HOT i love abstract gifs of frank where you can't really see his face or anything if you couldn't already tell that
oh no, it's perfectly fine!! and heeeyyy i have another plot idea. c; based off of our earlier conversation, no less
so i was thinking ray had made plans for the group to go to six flags great america that day, since they were passing through gurnee illinois on their way to chicago. of course, he's a little shit and doesn't tell them until that day, so they go. gee gets all nervous and freaky scared on the rollercoasters they go on, so frank stays with him and they interact with a group of fans they see and go on a ferris wheel and the FERRIS WHEEL GETS STUCK AT THE TOP WITH THEM ON IT AW AW AW
they should also adopt a cat while they're on tour
MCR MASCOT
plot ideas galore i tell ya ))
