Frank Iero: P.A.

You’d be surprised at the amount of strange looks a man gets when he is seen disposing of a basket of women’s lingerie into a dumpster. I’m not sure if people thought I had some crazy sick obsession, of if they thought I had murdered a group of prostitutes to fuel some crazy sick obsession. Either way, I walked away from that dumpster looking at my feet to avoid their judgemental stares. The things I do for Gerard Way...

I get back from my little excursion and go straight back to my desk. My plan to win Gerard’s confidence is still in motion, so unfortunately I can’t let my work ethic slip just yet. Gerard may have implied that he preferred it when I stuffed up, but he doesn’t tell that Frank anything, so reliable Frank has to step up.

“Did you dispose of them all?” Gerard comes in to ask me. I swear I wasn’t in my chair for more than five seconds – how the hell does he do that?

“Yes,” I reply.

“You put them in the trash can out the front, didn’t you,” he says dead-panned. “I’ve told you before, Frank; take them away from the house. I don’t need some reporter coming across them when they’re going through my trash and then going off to write some piece of shit article about the social life they assume me to have.”

I lean back in my chair and fold my arms across my chest. “You know, for a guy who doesn’t give a shit about what people think about them, you’re sure concerned about what people are going to think about you,” I say. He doesn’t look too impressed... bad Frank! “For the record, I went two blocks away and threw them in the dumpster.”

He looks at me for a moment, and I ready myself for his praise. “Only two blocks? You might as well have thrown them away here.”

That cock-sucker!

Gerard goes back to his own office, leaving me alone again. I was positive I would have got some kind of positive remark out of him for having the forethought to go to a dumpster, but I guess it was dumb of me to think that Gerard would. The more work I do for him, the harder I find it to believe all of that stuff Ellie said about Gerard being selfless. He sure as hell isn’t appreciative.

Earlier, a contract from the MOMA had been delivered by courier, so I extract it from its envelope and begin to skim over it. It’s my job to do the preliminary read before I forward it on to Gerard’s lawyer to look at it more closely. Luckily for me, this contract is quite small, only twelve pages, meaning less work for me. I’m about halfway through it when Gerard comes out of his office, adjusting his leather jacket.

“I’ll be out for a few hours,” he says. “Keep working until six-thirty.”

I check the clock (which I finally put new batteries in this morning); it’s coming up for one-thirty. “Okay,” I say. I decide to test out my new hard work/trust theory. “Have fun at Austin and Adrien’s birthday party.”

“I wi–” He stops and turns to me with a perplexed expression on his face; I look back at him innocently. “How do you know about that?”

“Ellie mentioned it before I stole one of her cupcakes yesterday,” I reply.

The corners of his mouth twitch upward; he must be remembering my ingenious smoking monkey cupcake. He goes back to his usual stony expression. “Well, Ellie was always prone to gossip.”

He continues out of the office. I’m going to see how far I can push this.

I call out after him, “What did you get for them?”

There’s a minute pause in his step, then he turns around. He’s staring at me and I’m sure he’s going to tell me to mind my own business.

“A collection of children’s classics and a set of Aquabat pyjamas each,” he tells me, a hint of a smile on his lips. I’m sensing he’s proud of his gift choices, and I don’t blame him. I’m nineteen and I’d kill for a set of Aquabat pyjamas – those kids will love them. “Is there anything else you’d like to know before I go, or are you finished with your inquisition?”

Oh, boy are there more things I’d like to know, but the sarcastic way he said it tells me that he doesn’t want to tell me anything more. Well, progress is progress. I’ll just ask him one more thing...

“Just one more question,” I say. “Would you like me to send off that canvas in your office this afternoon before the post office closes?”

He looks taken aback, but nods. I watch him leave and smile to myself, knowing that I’m slowly cracking the Gerard Way jigsaw puzzle.



Surprisingly, I manage to stay in the office until six-thirty without being completely bored out of my brains. The canvas was sent off, I replied to yet another sack of fan mail, faxed the MOMA contract over to Gerard’s lawyer, ordered some more art supplies, and answered numerous phone calls from journalists about all these fantastic interview opportunities that they wanted to offer him – puh-lease! As if it’s them offering him an opportunity; he’d be the one putting them in the spotlight.

Ellie left before Gerard did, so I’m alone in the mansion tonight. I gather my dinner from the fridge and reheat it before settling down in the living room for the night. Luckily for me, there’s a triple episode of The Simpson’s on tonight to keep me occupied.

I expect Gerard to be gone until eight or nine o’clock tonight, but at seven o’clock he walks through the front door. He doesn’t stop to talk to me and moves quickly upstairs. I’m probably stupid for doing it, but I get up and follow him. He goes straight to his room, but leaves the door open. I’m not stupid enough to go into his room, though, so I wait for him in the hallway. If the door is open then he can’t be staying long. It’s not long before he comes back out, this time emerging with a small bag... maybe his girlfriend has gone into labour... or worse, he’s going to spend the night at her place. He walks speedily past me.

“Where are you going?” I ask after him.

“Never mind, Frank,” he sounds stressed. His girlfriend must be in labour.

“I can call you a taxi,” I offer.

“Just drop it, Frank!” he yells.

He’s starting down the stairs. There’s no way I’m dropping this. He can’t keep running off like he has been. I start running and manage to overtake him on the stairs. I stop just in front of him and block his path. He tries to step around me but I move with him.

“Get out of my way!”

“No! Tell me where you’re going!”

He becomes more frustrated as I start using my hands to keep him from moving. Dropping the bag on to the step beside him, he grabs me by the collar and pushes me up against the wall.

“It’s none of your business,” he says through gritted teeth. He lets me go and makes to move again, but this time I grab him and pin him to the wall. “Frank!”

“Just tell me! Why do you keep disappearing all the time? Is someone pregnant, dying, are you going to a gallery? What? You can trust me!”

With all the strength of an angered rhino, he manages to run me across the one step until my back smashes up against the railing. All I feel is horrible pain making its way up my spine. I could cry if I wasn’t so occupied with being pissed at Gerard. I grab onto his shirt so he can’t run away.

“MY BROTHER HAS CANCER!” he shouts into my face. “HE HAS FUCKING CANCER!”

The blood drains from my face. His brother has cancer... and I’ve said – oh, God!

He lets me go and snatches up the bag he was carrying. I watch him storm down the stairs away from me.

Without stopping or turning to look at me, he says angrily, “You wanted to know, well now you fucking know.”

The front door is slammed shut behind him. I’m paralysed to the spot; I’m numb to everything. The sound of The Simpson’s opening credits start for the second time and echo throughout the house. I hear it, but all I can do is stare at the front door and curse myself for everything I’ve said and done up to this point.

Gerard Way's brother has cancer... and I'm a fucking dickhead.