You Love to Hate Me

Frank's POV.

Do you believe in soul mates?

I didn't once, not so long ago. I scoffed at the thought of having someone else, someone there to make me feel like I meant the world. No, I said, that's bullshit. Utter bullshit.

But that was before I met her, in all her beauty, her beautiful brown eyes, with their piercing gaze. Her perfect, clear, snowy white skin, her flowing brown hair.

Yet most of all, what drew me towards her was the way she was so calm and collect, the way she radiated peace, the way she could make anyone feel peace and calm. I believe she can do so even amist a war zone. That's what she can do. My beautiful girl. Jamia.

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Standing high on my stage, thinking that for once being taller meant I was more important, I would have sold my soul to be able to do this constantly.

The thrill of it all; the screaming crowd, the high of playing my guitar so loud that the ground shook under me, the exhilarating feeling of being special; being wanted; it was simply breathtaking. It was then that I decided; this is my career. This is what I want to do. This is amazing. This is better than anything, so I thought; being the lonely lost soul I was, having never experienced the bliss of true love.

And then, I caught her eye and my short - lived high came to a jarring halt. The feeling of the rough guitar strap, the lightness of my beloved guitar, the harsh metallic feel of guitar strings against my calloused fingers were no longer the best feeling in the world. I would have rather have been standing next to her, caressing her delicate hand with my sweaty palm, with her beautiful brown eyes staring into mine. Surely that feeling would top the one of playing to a screaming crowd, numbering only about a hundred; such a big audience, I used to think, yet nothing compared to now. I would rather envelope her in a hug, breathing in her sweet smell of vanilla.

Love at first sight? I think so. Did I believe in it before I set my eyes on her? Hell no.

There's a first for everything.

So, typically of me, I decided to try to look 'cool'. Trying to show off my amazing skills, I jumped into the air; but being me, of course it had to go wrong.

My judgement of how far away they were on the stay fell short and my foot collided with her face, sending her reeling to the ground, hand flying to her face, covered with blood. What great first contact; first time I touch her I send her away, broken.

I panicked. Tapping Gerard's shoulder, I called to him to stop the music. Turning around, I saw her friend leading her off, no doubt to hospital.

'Wait...Are you okay?' I called to her as fans wondered why the music had stopped.

She nodded distractedly, blood running down her face, with a look of obvious pain. I decided to let her go.

At least I was guaranteed she wouldn't forget me in a hurry.

Then her friend rushed her out; to the hospital, I'd later learn; I'd broken her nose. All I could think about was how she'd gone without even a name, but now I vowed I would find her again and that time, nothing on earth would make me let her go.

I decided to look her up on myspace.