Frankie Fever

With my family sorted out, I had to turn my attentions to Frank.

This loser gay crush thing had to end. Now. It couldn’t carry on. He’d shown his true colours. He was a selfish, using assface. I was just a means to an end for him - a tool to get to some loser fag hag.

I began by purging my room of all my Frank-related junk. I tore up that notebook. The photos I had of him were shredded into tiny pieces. Every little thing he’d ever left here was thrown into the black bin liner. Frank was an asshole.

Frankie calling. . .

I needed some help. Help from some serious straight talkers.

* * *

“Welcome home!” The man at the front smiled widely “Welcome to the heterosexual life that God himself, intended for you.”

The people around me began to clap in approval. I joined in. We were all here for the same thing. None of us wanted to be gay. We were all here to overcome it. Every single one of us wanted to be a nice straight person. That’s the ultimate reason we were here.

Each of us gave out our names, sitting in a nice circle together to discuss things.

Jamie-Lynn

Mike

Chris

Stephanie

Gerard

Will

Marie

Cathy

Valerie

Bert

Ashley

And then the leader gave us his name. Edward. He directed a hand towards one of the guys sitting amongst us. He stood up with a bright smile. He had stylish blond hair and blue eyes. His wardrobe gave him away. A sweater vest over a pale blue shirt, tucked into a pair of jeans.

“Hey,” He began with an obvious lisp to his voice “My name’s Chris. I left homosexuality behind three and a half years ago. I’ve been happily married to a woman for eight months and we’re now planning to try for our first child.”

Edward - or Eddie as I liked to call him - led us all in applauding Chris as he smiled bashfully and sat back down again. A woman then stood up and smiled. She screamed stereotype from head to toe. She had short, cropped dark hair and wore a pair of sweatpants with a man’s sport zip-up hoodie.

“Hi, my name’s Ashley,” She smiled “I overcame lesbianism in 1995. Now, I only date men. In the next couple of weeks, I’m planning to move in with my new boyfriend and we’ll see how things go from there.”

Another round of applause from all of us lowly faggots and dykes as we gazed in wonder at these two heroes. God, I wanted to be like Chris. I couldn’t be addicted to Frank for the rest of my life. I’d end up committing suicide. I didn’t want to torture myself like that. There’s masochism and then there’s masochism. Staying addicted to Frank would be the latter.

Eddie stood up and smiled warmly at us all, rubbing his hands together like an evil genius. I was struggling not to snort with laughter at the image of him as a mad scientist as he spoke to us.

“And you too,” He began “Can be like Ashley and Chris. Living the simple hetero-life that was meant for you.”

That sounded pretty sweet.

“You can achieve this by following our simple steps.”

Not too hard then. Just take things step-by-step. Nice and simple.

“Step one: Use a mantra to focus your mind.

Something that slips off the tongue, like: Homos go to Hell. . . Gay girls burn. Or whatever works for you.”

Okay. It was extreme. But so was my Frank addiction and maybe extreme was what I needed to help myself get over him. Perhaps I needed to push myself.

* * *

Well. We only find out what we’re made of when we’re put to the test. And, believe me, I was put to the test, all right.

I was at school when I was unexpectedly thrown into the deep end. It was just turning fourth period and I was getting my English book from my locker in preparation. There were crowds of students all around me, all looking the same in their blazers and ties. But not him. There’s no missing the rebellious Frank Iero.

He was weaving his way through the crowd, a confident smirk on his face. I jumped and turned away from him, muttering my mantra to myself.

Frankie Fever is complicated.
Frankie Fever is complicated.
Frankie Fever is complicated.
Frankie-

“Hey, Gee,” He greeted with a grin, lightly punching my shoulder “Come down off that E?”

Frankie Fever is complicated.
Frankie Fever is complicated.

“Great night, or what?” He grinned “How was it for you?”

Frankie Fever is complicated-
Complicated.
Complicated.
Complicatedcomplicatedcomplicated-

Oh God.

His pants were skin-tight. Revealing just about everything he had packing. Oh God. Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.

“You okay?” He questioned.

I nodded frantically, still muttering like a lunatic.

“Are you mad at me?”

Complicated.
Complicated.
Complicated.
Complicated.
Complicated. . .
Crowd out package.
Complicated.
Complicated.

“What have you taken?” Frankie questioned.

I didn’t reply.

Complicated.
Complicated.
Complicated.
Complicated.
Complicated.
Complicated.
Complicated.

“Oh-kay,” Frankie began awkwardly “I’m going. . . somewhere. Cover for me in English?” He requested, turning to walk away.

Over his shoulder, he called out a suggestion about me seeing a doctor. But I barely heard him. I’d just succeeded. I’d passed my first test. I was strong. I was powerful. I was taking my first steps towards heteroness-

If only I hadn’t looked back.

His ass was swaying as he walked. Such a goddamn sexy ass-

What do you expect? I was only a beginner. These things take time.

But I was getting there.