You Give Love a Bad Name

" - Wow, you're finally eighteen. Finally legal. Maybe now you can stop stealing Gerard's cigarettes, like you did a couple of years back, and buy your own.

But I'm not here to talk about your nicotine addiction. Or Gerard's, for that matter. I'm here to tell you how wonderful I think you are.

Frank, I may joke about it, but the fact remains that you have no idea how honored I am to have you for a best friend. I mean, you have this...glow around you, and sometimes, when we're together, I can't help but realize how extremely lucky I am to have you in my life. I can't help but wonder why you've stuck around with me of all people, when you can have the friendship of anyone you wanted.

Do you remember how we first met? It was in fourth grade, and we were playing soccer with the other kids during lunch. It was the first five minutes of the game when someone passed me the ball. I guess you thought that I was weak seeing as I was the only girl there, 'cause you chased after me and purposely pushed me on the ground to try and take away the ball. I guess you didn't consider the fact that I would have enough guts to stand up and kick you in the balls.

Hahaha, do you remember how the yard duty spent around five minutes tying to break up our fight? Jeezus, we were such little assholes back then, weren't we? Who knew that we would bond over Green Day during the two-hour after school detention that the yard duty gave us? After that you came over to my house, met my brothers, and the rest is history...

And here we are today; all grown up, but not any wiser. Still getting into 'bitch fights' [as Gerard likes to call them, but then again, he would know] with each other over the stupidest of things. But weirdly enough, that's what works for us and makes our friendship somewhat fucked up, but undoubtedly special.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that even though our personalities clash like crazy, and sometimes I seriously want to strangle you with Gerard's pink boa, I love you and hope that our friendship will last until we're ninety years old wrinkle-creased freaks, who are still stuck in Jersey, basking in each other's company.

Bottom line is that you're an amazing person, Frank. And even though you have self doubts, one day the whole world is going to be at your feet and I'm going to be standing by your side, saying, 'That's my best friend, everyone'.

Frank, don't you dare to ever change. You're too perfect the way you are already.

Love, Lena."

I watched Frank read with a huge grin plastered on my face. The words that I penned earlier on, sounded so much better coming from his lips. His musical voice made it sound like he was reading a passage from some well known book instead of a card from a high school student.

When he read the last word, he looked up and our eyes met. The noise of the party faded out until it was just the two of us. Me and him.

He smiled and just like that, Frank Iero took my breath away once again.

With the blink of an eye, the spell that coated us was broken, and cheering, laughter and chatter could be heard throughout the room.

"So, that's how you guys met?" Bob laughed next to Frank, nudging him playfully on the ribs with his elbow. "No wonder you never talk about it."

Ignoring Bob's remark, Frank started to walk over with a sheepish grin planted on his face so he could thank me for the card.

I felt Logan drop his arm from my waist and move away with an encouraging smile. I made a face at him and turned back to Frank, only to be engulfed in a bear hug.

Once, when we were in eighth or ninth grade, Frank asked me how he smelled to me, after a girl he liked told him that he smelled good. I replied honestly that to me he smelled like fresh laundry, cigarettes and his aftershave.

Now, years later, as I hugged him on his eighteenth birthday, Frank smelled exactly the same. A unique, pleasant smell that I had the fortune of stumbling upon only once in my life.

But that was Frank - a kind of guy that you only met once in your life, but remembered for the rest of it.

"Happy birthday, Frankie," I whispered, hugging him tighter. "I hope you'll get everything you ever wished for."

I felt him grin above me. "I hope I do too."

After a few moments of being in Frank's embrace, I pulled away and opened my palm to reveal two Green Day tickets. "They're for Friday. In the city. You didn't have anything else planned for that day, did you?"

Frank was still staring at the tickets.

I cleared my troat, thinking with a sinking heart that I bombed it with the present. Big time. "Um, Frank?"

Silence.

"Look, if you don't like it, I can always - "

"I thought Green Day were on a break," Frank cut me off in a whisper, finally looking away from the tickets and at me instead.

I shrugged. "They are, as far as I know. This gig is secret - you know, one of a kind? At least that's what Logan told me."

"Lena," Frank took me by the shoulders and leaned in so close that I could count the green specks in his eyes, "not only did you make my birthday, you just made my week. Last time I saw these guys were in ninth grade."

"I know," I replied, trying to seem cool and collected while having a desperate battle with my inner mechanism to try and control the erratic beating of my heart. "I was there, remember? Gerard drove us there like two months after he'd gotten his permit."

Frank smiled at the memory and leaned even closer to me. So close that I could smell a faint trace of alcohol on his breath. "Oh yeah. And he'd gotten so wasted afterwards that Mikey had to do some illegal driving back home. How could I forget?"

A cross between a somewhat nervous laugh and a giggle erupted from my mouth as felt those damn butterflies flying like bullets in my stomach. "Yep, those were the times, eh? We need to stop being so hardcore."

Frank laughed and leaned in even closer. "That's why I love you. You say the darnest of things when I invade your personal space."

And he kissed me.

Well, on the cheek. I think if it was anywhere else, I would have spontaneously combusted. Literally.

"Nooooo," I heard Bob's voice behind me, sounding extremely panic-stricken. "You have the wrong house, uh...Ma'am? No party here. No Frank, either."

Frank pulled away from me and turned to watch the scene that unfolded before our eyes.

Bob was following three women - no, men - no, drag queens, across the room, trying to reason with them, but obviously failing. All three were very large and manly looking, with colorful rainbow wigs.

"But it says so right here," the African-American queen boomed in her [or his, depending on how you look at it] deep voice. "Exotic Package for Frank Iero, 1500 Wi-"

"Yes, but we thought you would be...," Bob looked around helplessly, no doubt looking for the rest of the guys,"uh, well, -"

"What?" A Latina queen put her hands on her hot-pink, sparkly dress. "What is it? Don't like what you see, boy? Don't like the Exotic Package?"

The last queen, she was Asian, blew a big bubble-gum bubble, adjusting her platinum-blonde wig and looking around with a bored expression.

"No, we do, it's just that -"

"Look, Mister," the black queen boomed again, looking like a bear, "you payed, and there's no refunds. Now, we do our thing and leave. Got it?"

"Yes," Bob squeaked, looking a bit afraid for his life.

The black queen cleared her throat and stood up on the living room table, swiping the vodka and beer bottles off the surface beforehand. I wondered how the table didn't collapse under her weight. "Excuse me! Excuse me, everyone!"

The music stopped and all eyes were on the Exotic Package.

"My name is Midnight," she started up again, "this is Daisy," she pointed to the Latina, "and the other one is Kiwi. Now, which one of you is the birthday boy? Come out, Frank, baby."

I started laughing.

Looked like Gerard's plan blew up in his face.