Runaway Life With Rock Stars

Chapter Two

The eyelids had a mind of their and they didn’t want to open because they were afraid to let the eye see if I was back with the people that I had tried to escape. They were tight together like a grilled cheese snadwich. It was a struggled to open them, but they were ready for whatever came into view. When they let light enter, the eyes on my face saw a very close ceiling. A blanket was over my body. At that moment, it hit me like a train: were't my clothes drenched? I jumped up from the bunk hitting my forehead. I was scared—I didn’t know where I was! Where was I anyways? As I panicked, the confusing fizz of clogged memory of the encounters before I blacked-out all seemed like dream. Pulling off the covers of Teen Titans I found the surprise of my clothes gone and replaced by an unfamiliar black and white striped long-sleeve shirt that barely reached my thighs . I now looked like a pant-less criminal from the old days. Socks and ripped converse were missing as well. Luckily, however, I still had my underwear. Though, there was a bandage wrapped round my foot tightly. The pain was gone—Ha, ha! I wish I could say that! No, it still hurt a little and the size of it, whoa! It looked swollen—but it wasn’t that big—just a little.

Climbing out the bunk slowly after hitting my forehead—again—I scanning around the place where there were a few more bunk at the sides of the room and a path in-between all. The bunks' curtains were all ripped open to reveal disordered sheets with t-shirts, pants, and dirty socks thrown across the floor and hanging off the sides of the bunks.

Limping to the door with a poster of the Misfits, I reached to twist the doorknob open but it twisted by itself and a quick chill ran through my back when the door flew open and the appearance of a guy with smeared stitches over the lining of his mouth and X’s over his eyes. Transfixed as I was to the floor in a stiff position, the dude with the messed up face said, “Hey! Your up.”

Shirking like a weird imbecile I smacked the door shut in his face as I quickly put pressure with my back on the door so he couldn't open it. Who was he? A rapist? A homicidal-maniac? What have they done to the man that was helping me? Or was he one of…them?

Behind the door I heard him refrence a question in general, “Huh? What’s up with you; something on my face? Oh no! Hey guys, see anything wrong with my face? I think I freaked the little girl out.”
“I think it’s your smeared makeup and—yeah, it must be that.” a voice far off said to him.

“See I told you to wipe it off when we got here!” someone closer to him declared.

"So it's all because of my makeup ?” the guy behind my door asked them.

“Yea-uh!” They answered like Blondies.

“Really…” there was a door slam as the guy called out with muffled but able to be heard clearly, “ Well don’t bother me; I’m now in Frankie-Time.”

There was a the sound of the TV on. Laugh sounds echoed besides the TV voices and blah. Without a sound I opened crack of door to peek cautiously through. With my right eye I could see feet crossed at the ankles on a sofa off to one side by a little kitchen. Poking my head out to get a better view, I could hear musical murmurs behind a door to my left side. I was looking up and down the hallway when the guy in the sofa saw me and called out, “Hey girl with the head! You want to come and watch a movie? No biting and germs will be allowed so don’t worry about it.”

The invited to watch a movie without any biting sounded great than being asked “Hey, you want to be raped then killed while watching a movie?” Though, that would have been great as well...except for the rape part. I wasn't sure if I could really approach him, though my feet moved. Stupid Daemon! What are you doing! I snapped in my conscious to my Daemon.

“Hey, there's no need to be afraid. My name’s Michael James Way. But you can call my Mikey for short. What’s your name?”

Friendly as he sounded I m uttered “Jaddus Valensue.”

“Cool name—You want to sit down?” He patted the seat next to him once he scoot over, “Because I don’t think you want to be standing there with a chopped off foot.”
I gulped and took a look down to my bandage on my foot. Was it actually cut off and sewed on! I thought in my horrified mind, Was this the Chainsaw Massacre?

He laughed and that’s when I figured he was only kidding. Sitting next to him I asked shyly, “So what are you watching?”

“Oh, it’s, uh…” He reached to get the movie case from the floor to read “Scary Movie 3.” Dumping the case back on the floor and resting back, he said, “Gay, I know. But I’m in the mood to laugh and this is a retarded movie that would do it.”

My eyes noticed other figures in front of me. I looked up to find two guys sitting at the other side on table/booth seats.

“Oh, uh...hi,” I waved pathetically, “ I didn’t see you guys there, forgive me.”

The one to the right said “S’ okay, man. We’re cool. The name’s Raymond Manuel Ortiz-Toro, but you should call me Ray; it’s easier.”

Ahh…Manuel…oh! Better focus here Jaddus, before you make a fool of your self—drooling over Manuel in your fantasies ! How dare you! Pay attention here! My Daemon snapped as I nodded like a mechanical robot.

The guy to the left said, “And my name is Robert Nathaniel Corey Bryar, but it’s best if you call me Bob.” I continued to nod in agreement.

“Jaddus Valensue...yeah... call me whatever you want.” I confirmed. Shortly after, I realized where I was—in the modern bus the man was taking me in before I passed out.

“Okay then, ‘whatever you want’, are you hungry?” asked Mikey with air quotations.
Looking down at the rumbling empty stomach, I didn't have to say anything.

“I’m guessing that’s a definite yes,” Ray observed.

“Well, the pizza is coming in soon,” Mikey informed, lying back in the sofa with his hands behind his head.

Bob said, “Gerard should be here soon, so don’t die on us, ‘kay?”

“Okay, I’ll try.” I teased but deep down inside I really wanted to, but I’m not suicidal; I’m waiting to die naturally so I could spend my afterlife perhaps in Heaven…

“So will Charles” the guy coming out of a compartment added with the sound of a flushed toilet behind. If that was the dude who had scared the shit out of me, he looked different now. “Don’t forget that dude, I pry he hasn't broken a bone from walking all the way.” He joked around, turning to look at me next and said, “So, I hear your name’s Jaddus, eh? Nice to meet you, I’m Frank”, he extended a hand for me to shake.

Shaking it, he plotted down next to me on the sofa. Finally, I dared to ask, turning to him, “So, are you satisfied, er…?”

“What?” He asked confused, then taking notice of my question laughed, “No, no! I mean my name is Frank. My whole name is Franklin Anthony Iero Jr. But its preferred to be Frank or Frankie…and sometimes Pansy.”

“Oh—Oh! I get it! Damn, you all have long names! Mine isn’t real, but I like it. It's actually…I don’t know what it is. But my friends helped me create it.” After saying what I had said it sounded weird to my ears than inside my head. Silence followed.

“Is that why you like it?” asked Ray to break the awkward silence.

“Yup!” I said proudly though with a serious expression.

Frank nudged me and I turned to see him facing foreward as he gulped a bit, “So... are you wondering where your clothes are?”

It hit me like an injection of fluid. I was in front of these men in my underwear! God dammit! Could you be any more stupid! I lectured myself. My face grew warm and blushed deeply—not just the face, my body grew warm as well. Without a word, I nodded my head slowly.

He answered seriously, “I put them in the bathroom to dry up in the shower pole.” He looked at me, trying not to burst into laughter, “Don’t worry. We didn’t look at all—When we changed you, anyways…Your wearing one of Gerard's performance shirts…I covered my eyes...just saying”—eyeing the others, he said aloud—“I don’t know about them.”

Looking at them, they all nodded their head to me. A corner of my mouth rose to so they could see they were on my Good Side. “And we all used tongs— you know, those things you use to turn the meat in a barbecue? Yeah, we used those, so your still untouched…but damn that was something tough! I’m surprised you didn’t wake up! We were making such a fuss trying to get you— maybe I shouldn’t go into detail,” He paused.

“Oh, thanks, I guess.” I quietly said.

“Oh yeah! And, um, I was wondering if we got the shirt on you the right way.” He indicated the collar tag on his shirt so I’d check it the one I was wearing.

Checking, I grinned. “Yeah, it's backwards—nice. I hadn’t noticed until now, but no wonder it felt sort of weird; I thought it was all me!” What friendly strangers, I thought. And for the first time I felt secure, something I haven’t felt in the longest time since ever I could remember. Unconsciously this brought a tiny bit of confidence—they weren’t going to hurt me, so there really wasn’t anything to fear about right now.

“So how old are you?” Ray asked me.

“Thirteen, almost turning fourteen.” I answered.

“Is that your real birthday?” asked Bob.

I shrugged. “I don’t know much about myself, so, no. It was Cindy's was birthday and we had decided to share it…”

“Who’s Cindy?” asked Mikey as he was wiping his glasses on his shirt.

“My pretend-sister,” I said before a choking clogged my throat.

“So when’s your birthday?” Ray asked, moving back to the subject.

“Two weeks from today.”

“Hey, that’s my birthday!” exclaimed Mikey.

I asked to their knowledge, “So, I suppose you guys know where you found me…mind telling me where that place was?”
They starred until Bob broke the silence to ask disbelievingly, “You don’t know where you were!” I gave him a blank stare. “Los Angeles, California, woman!” Still giving him a blank stare until I realized, I gasped, “Oh my God! I’m far away from home!”

Dear Frank asked, “What? Where do you live?”

“I live on Earth, duh!” I turned to him and he flashed a look saying ‘okay, I knew that’, but I said, “I don’t have a home; never did and don’t think I ever will, but I belong in Manhattan.”

“I knew it! You have that New York accent!" Mikey shouted. "But it almost sounds like you got another accent stuck with you...I can't figure that out, though,” He honestly admitted. “Are you traveling with someone from New York?”

“Yeah,” I said.

He then questioned, “Well, isn’t that person worried where you are?”

I replied honestly, “Yes, but that's only because they're afraid I may report them...”
He was shocked as if by lightening. “What!?”

All I said was, “I’m running away from them. It’s the reason I’m in such an embarrassing state—sitting on an expensive sofa in my underpants and all that blah.”

“I see—not much, but I can sort of understand—not that I really do, but”—Mikey was saying until to stall the subject until I interrupted to tell him, “Quit babbling!” And he said, “Your right, phew! Well you know what I mean—or do you?”

“Do you mind telling us? I mean, like, to get to know you?” Ray nosed in—well, that’s how I felt about it, anyways.

“Um, uh…I don’t know…its just that…-i-it's…Ugh! I don’t know if I could! I mean, I don’t know where to begin!” I answered frustrated.

“C’mon, you can trust us” Bob persuaded.

Frank patted my shoulder, “It’s okay, no pressure.” A moment later of silence: “Now tell us or I'll torture you with a potato chip!” Frank shouted almost into my ear, hands in the air as if warning the world of a fire in a building. Everyone laughed and I just stayed there like a senseless moron. But before I could say what was my story, the entrace door flung open and in came the elderly man I had assumed to be Charles, the dude that helped me earlier—I think. Behind him came another guy, younger, and gorgeous as Heaven and was about to be the most of what I’ve seen all my life—they were all gorgeous, but he was more than anything. Even with the exhaustion he was in, he still looked superior. “Pizza!” the elderly man named Charles chimed. “How are you doing?” he referred to me when he passed by carrying the drinks.

“Let me help you, dear brother. Why don’t you go meet ‘whatever you want’ over there”, be pointed towards me with his head. Mikey’s brother looked at him with a glare as he said, “That’s rude, Mikey.”

But Mikey clarified quickly, "That’s what she said! Don’t look at me! She said to call her ‘whatever you want’, it's 'cause you have to listen to her name before we settle to a ‘whatever’, get what I’m saying?” Taking the pizza boxes from him and bumping him over to me with a hip, he managed to say “Hi” out of breath before he absorbed the fact where he stood and who he was really talking to now.

The guys hovered over the pizza and began to eat while Mikey’s brother and I introduced ourselves properly . Right when one of us was going to say something, Mikey called to us with chewed pizza already in there, “ Ugh, it only takes a second to introduce yourselves, but, no! You guys plan to take all the time in the world! Jaddus, this is my bro, Gerard Arthur Way. Gerard, that’s Jaddus Valensue. God, I swear that took me less that a five seconds!” He turned back to eat in peace.
“What he said; you can call me Gerard, or Gee—I don’t mind. Either is good” He established.

“Okay. You can call me Jaddus or whatever else you find it easy to call me, like Human, Freak, Creep, or Stupid-Ass; those are common," I nodded with crunched eyebrows.

“I’d never call you any of those names!” he gasped in shock. “Let’s eat. I’m starving,” he whispered enthusiastically, licking his lips like a snake ready to strike its a prey.