Ten Rings

"The first time I met Gerard Way? Must of been at an Eyeball records party, back in 2002. God, I remember seeing him waltz in wearing this old, baggy hoodie and a pair of blue jeans. He had this long, greasy dark brown hair and just looked like the kind of guy you'd punch out in a heartbeat, y'know?"

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I eyed him off curiously as I flicked the ash from my cigarette into the empty can on the table. I brought the smoke back to my lips and took a drag, exhaling slowly. The stereo pumped one of my my bands songs. Ten Rings. I smiled and inhaled more of my cigarette, softly humming along.

"Still singing your own songs, Frankie boy?"

"You know it, Kira." I turned to the left and blew smoke in the young girl's face. Kira coughed lightly and shoved me, calling me a cocky bastard.

Kira and I became close after her band and mine did a gig together in New York. She was a real hard ass on stage. Screaming and spitting into the crowd, banging her head so hard she might of broke her neck. That's what I loved about her, not afraid to rock out. That and she had one killer Mohawk.

"Who's got your fancy tonight, Frankie boy?" She asked. You could clearly see her tongue stud as she talked.

"Will you stop calling me that?" I said lowly, flicking the cigarette stub onto the table, "And no one has got my fancy."

"Alright but I've seen you staring at Gerard and I know a horny teenager when I see one." She smacked me on the ass and walked away before I could tell her off.

"This band is shit!"

My stomach lurched and I whipped around so fast I almost fell over. Who the fuck was hating on Pencey Prep?

There was that baggy hoodie and that dark hair. Laughing stupidly with a Budweiser in his hand. There was two other guys next to him. Probably his band mates. My Deadly Romance or something. A real emo name. The blonde one with the beard uncapped another beer and slapped Gerard on the back. "What the hell is this band called anyway? Shit House?"

I felt the anger boil in my stomach like a fucking storm cloud. My fists clenched and my feet started to walk towards them. Now I know I'm young and not to sound cocky or anything but I'm pretty intimidating. Blood red, spikey hair and tattoos up and down my arms. Who wouldn't run the other way? Gerard Way thats who.

"The fuck you say, man?" I snarled, standing in front of the group. It took them a minute to take in the fact that I was talking to them. The song changed to Eighth Grade. Perfect.

Gerard raised an eyebrow at me and stood up taller, "Hm? You say something runt?"

"I said what the fuck you say about Pencey Prep?" My teeth gritted as I spat each word.

Something clicked in Gerard's brain and he nodded. "Is that what this 'band' is called?" He laughed, quoting with his fingers. The other two laughed and I glared at each of them.

"Yeah, I'm the vocalist."

"You?" The blonde one slammed his beer on the table he laughed so hard.

"What's so funny, Blondie?" I snapped, my head turning to his direction.

"You? Has your voice even broken yet? My god!" Gerard joined in on the conversation once more, stumbling slightly from the drink. My stomach flipped several times and I snapped.

"FUCKER!" I lunged forward, spear tackling Gerard. We went flying back, over a table and onto the floor. Beer splashed over both of us, the smell making me want to gag. The talking stopped like in a bad teen movie and everyone turned to watch. I straddled his waist and my fists flew into every part I could find.

"Fucker! Don't you dare diss Pencey-Fucking-Prep!" I screamed at the top of my voice. My knuckles slowly turning redder with every punch. Gerard's nose was bleeding and definitely broken.

"G-get the fuck off me, cocksucker!" He yelled, pushing me off. I fell back, smacking my head on the concrete . He was on me in a second, slamming me into the floor again and again. A few rushed to help, Gerard's blonde friend, some guy from the recording booths and Kira.

"Frank! What the fuck?!" Kira yelled as all three pulled me and Gerard apart, "What is wrong with you?"

I was pulled by my underarms 5 feet across the floor. My head lolled to the side, I was so fucking dizzy it wasn't funny. Blood ran down the side of my head and onto my shirt. My favorite one to. I thrashed and writhed as I was pulled to my feet. I pushed whoever it was away and spat on he floor. More blood.

I looked up at Gerard who was being pulled up by his bitch bandmates. He pointed at me, his eyes furious, well one eye, the other was turning purple and swelling up. "You psycho bastard!"

"Serves you right for talking shit about my band, fucker!" I yelled. The music had been switched off and it was oddly quiet in the room.

"Frank, come on. Come cool down for a bit." Kira said pulling me away by my arms. I tried to get away, I wanted to finish that little bitch off. Kira's grip grew tighter and she pulled me towards the bathrooms. She was strangely strong for someone her size.

"You're dead, runt!" Gerard yelled after me, storming out with his cronies following suit. I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster and the stuck my finger straight up in the air. "Bring it on, Motherfucker!"

"Come on!" Kira pulled me swiftly into the bathroom. I stumbled across the tiled floor and into the bench. Kira pushed me onto the counter and told me to sit. I did as I was told, to *knacked to argue. I sat with my head in my hands, sighing loudly. It echoed off the walls.

"Frank, you have got to stop doing this." Kira turned the tap on, wetting some paper tissue and dabbing at the cut above my eye. I let my hands slip away and sat up. I saw my reflection in the opposite mirror. I looked like hell. My lip was split and bleeding. There were bruises all over my cheeks and forehead. And my hair was stained dark with dried up blood, all mattered and stuck together.

"Well, you'll need a butterfly bandage on this." Kira gave the cut above my eye a good prod. I hissed, giving her a death glare. She smiled innocently and grabbed my head, swiftly turning it down so she could look at the gash hidden under my hair. She "ummed" and "ahhed" until she pulled out a flask from her coat pocket.

"Whiskey." She said simply, pouring a large amount onto the head. I yelled out in pain, lurching away from her. It stung like a motherfucker. I gritted my teeth as tears started to prick in my eyes. "Warn me before you do that again, yeah?"

Kira giggled and put the flask back in her coat. "You're laughing?" I said, flatly. My face absent of any expression, "You're fucking laughing?"

"I'm sorry Frankie." She smiled, wetting more paper tissue and dabbing at the gash. I flinched as pressure was put on the wound, forcing more whiskey in. "Sssah! Stop it!" I cried, pushing her hands away. Frustration took over her face as she sighed loudly. That's my sign to suck it up or get out.

I clenched my jaw as the rest of my wounds were cleaned. Kira had the biggest smirk on her face the whole time. If I didn't know what she was capable of, I would've told her off ages ago.