So...Who Are You Again? My Chemical Romance? Never Heard of You.

"Frank Iero," I whispered to myself. Frank didn't strike me as a morning person. Actually, from my experience, Frank wasn't an anytime person. Despite how he'd been acting to me, I took a breath to gather my much needed courage and headed to his table. I set my plate on the table in front of him, causing Frank to solemnly look up. His now signature glare I'd gotten so used to seeing appeared upon eye contact. He groaned to himself, then dropped his head back to his barely touched scrambled eggs.

"Morning," I greeted. He grunted in response.

Hey, at least I got a response.

"Mind if I sit?" I didn't know if I was pushing it by asking. But instead of walking away like I fully expected him to do, he simply sat there, poking his eggs without a sound.

"Okaaay," I mumbled, continuing to stand, honestly not knowing what I should do. I scratched my head uncomfortably, looking around the room then back to the top of Frank's head. We stayed at this stalemate for several seconds until his annoyed sigh broke the silence.

"Fine," he answered impatiently. "Sit."

I smiled and gratefully took a seat, not sure how much longer I was willing to stand there. We ate a few more minutes in silence, Frank still not looking up from his food.

"So..." I began.

"Your voice is ruining my morning."

"Well your attitude is ruining everything. Why do you hate me so much?" I demanded, insulted. When you're mad about something, you usually start to get over it after awhile, not get worse.

"Because you're annoying," he stated with gritted teeth, trying to stay calm, rising his head to look at me.

"You've barely even talked to me," I argued, my eyes wide with confusion.

"There's nothing to talk about." He shrugged simply, taking a bite of eggs. Was he serious? There not being anything to talk about signified there were no problems and the entire time I'd known him had been one big predicament.

"Oh, there are definitely some things we need to talk about."

"I don't think so."

"This is worse than a mother trying to pry something out of her teenage daughter," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

"If all you're going to do is criticize me, then go away."

"You're the one who invited me to sit," I seethed. It wasn't like me to lose my temper; I'm a pretty lenient girl. But the way his tone fell on his words just made me crazy.

"It's not like you would have gone away."

"You don't know that," I huffed, crossing my arms and leaning back into my chair. He scoffed.

"Yeah I do. You would have just stood there looking like a dumbass."

"Okay, what the hell did I even do to you?" My voice rose, getting frustrated with this entire conversation. "You've been nothing but rude to me the entire time I've been here and it's getting a little old."

His head snapped up from his plate, looking the angriest I'd seen him. He drew in a breath furiously, his hazel eyes flashing dangerously. I anticipated an explanation following this, but instead he abruptly got up and stormed to the exit.

"Hey, come back!" I yelled, jumping up, and took off after Frank. I caught up before he could get too far and grabbed the back of his shirt. He whipped around, glowering down at me.

"Didn't I already tell you not to talk to me?"

"You can't just bottle up your emotions all the time, you know. I can tell something's wrong- I'm just trying to help," I said calmly, trying with all my might not to yell back. I knew yelling wouldn't help the situation what-so-ever.

"You don't know the first thing about helping me," he hissed, spun around, then stomped off. Apparently working out the situation calmly doesn't help either when it comes to Frank.

I wanted to follow him; I wanted to talk to him; I wanted to find out what was wrong. There were so many things I wanted to do, but my will wasn't strong enough to overpower my legs that took root to the ground.

It sucked how the longer our conversations got, the worse they were.

--

As I walked down the hallway from the elevator to our room, I had a frown on my face. My stomach was telling me to eat, but I couldn't will myself to intake anything- I just wasn't in the mood for that steaming, would-have-been-good food I piled on my plate.

This thing with Frank was seriously getting annoying fast. I was tired of constantly being ridiculed and put down every time I was around someone I just met yesterday. I had the option of be a total bitch back, but that would make him even angrier.

I suddenly froze mid-step; an idea had struck amongst my mindless thoughts tumbling around.

"Angry could be good," I whispered in realization, tapping my chin absentmindedly as my mind whirred. Before my mind could fully develop a plan of action, the door two in front of me opened and I immediately heard someone yell, "-a fucking bruise on my arm because of you!"

I recognized that frustrated and disgruntled yell anywhere, even as a cut off sentence- That must be Frank's room.

"That sounds like a personal problem to me," Ray dismissed over his shoulder, walking out of the room, letting the door slam shut before Frank could reply. He shook his head, looking exhausted, and then spotted me.

"Oh, hey," he greeted, stopping in front of me.

"What was that?" I inquired, pointing to their room. He rolled his eyes in an annoyed fashion.

"He's in a pissy mood already- He deserved a punch," Ray explained. "I wouldn't touch that guy with a ten foot pole if I were you. He may be a little guy, but he's got a hell of an attitude, in case you couldn't tell."

"Yeah," I said flatly, "when you're in my position, it's hard not to know."

He drew breath in sharply between his teeth. "And once again, we're sorry. I've tried everything I can think of. I've tried being nice-" He began counting on his fingers, "-I've tried yelling, and the most I can do is punch him every time he says anything just to be a little bastard. I play guitar and punch people- That's the extent of my abilities."

"Well you must be great at parties." I smirked jokingly.

"Yeah, well, I try." He nodded with a smile. "So, I'm going to go get some food. Get Mikey and Shelly up in a little bit 'cause we've gotta hit the road by 8:00."

"Gotcha." I flashed a thumbs up then bided him a farewell. I continued down the hallway until I got to our room and then entered. Both Shelly and Mikey were still asleep, but I decided they could sleep a little bit more, it just now being 7:00.

I decided to just take a shower and get mentally prepared for the inevitable disaster ahead, because I'd reached a point with Frank where it was time to fight fire with fire and I had a feeling it wasn't going to be pretty.

--

About an hour later, everyone was up, packed, and we were ready to be off to the next city, Marysville, in California where they'd be playing tomorrow night. I was told it would take at least eleven hours (Yes- Eleven hours with Mr. Sunshine) to get there.

Speaking of, the second I sat on the bus Frank already had a problem with me.

"Move."

I looked up from the bunk I had seen him sitting at yesterday. Instead of jumping out of the way at his demanding tone like I had previously done, I stayed put, staring at him blankly. His eye narrowed slightly when I didn't move.

"You're in my seat," he stated, folding his arms. I blinked slowly, drawing out my reaction.

"I don't care," I countered in a light voice. I could tell he did not like this answer one bit. He smiled bitterly and looked me up and down.

"I see what you're doing," he said in an accusing tone. "Well, screw this."

Just like this morning, he spun and walked away from me off the bus. The others turned their heads in a confused manner as they watched him leave. I stood up in time to see him shut the door.

"Where does he think he's going?" Bob asked no one in particular, still looking at the door with raised eyebrows.

"Probably to go sulk on someone else's bus; If there is a God, please help their soul." Gerard looked upward to the heavens.

Damn. That was not supposed to happen.

I didn't even think that it was an option for him to ride with a different band. Well, my plan just burnt up in the fire I was supposed to fight with. Maybe it would be for the best that we didn't have that conversation on a bus; I'll just antagonize him later today or tomorrow.

I sighed, discarding Frank and any part of my plan from my mind, then rejoined the group in the living area. I watched Ray and Mikey start up the Xbox as the bus pulled out of the parking lot.

"Whatcha playin'?" I wondered like a child, observing them press buttons so fast I didn't see the title.

"James Bond," Mikey answered from the floor next to my feet.

"Never played it." I shrugged indifferently.

"What?" he yelled suddenly, whisking around to look at me with wide eyes. Judging by Mikey's reaction, I'm socially retarded.

"Are you kidding?" Ray asked skeptically, just as surprised. I looked from him to Mikey, noticing that everyone had a strange look on their face.

"...No..." I answered timidly, not understanding what the big deal was. I mean, I at least knew what it was. Gerard stood up and walked to me, snatching Mikey's controller along the way. He dropped next to me then looked at me with a sweet smile.

"This," he set the controller on my lap, "is a controller."

"You amaze me with your space age knowledge," I replied, faking over-enthusiasm. "Teach me more!"

"Alright, wise gal." He pressed a few buttons to get started then returned the controller back to me. "Play."

"Gerard, I haven't played video games in years." I was never really into video games, just like I was never really into music and pop culture. None of that proved useful to me, nor did they even really interest me.

Instead of letting me off the hook, Gerard grabbed my hand and guided it to the start button and pressed it for me. He let go and smiled as the screen split into two screens.

"What was that again?" he asked with a cheeky smile. I looked at him defiantly, but gave in with a shrug.

"Okay, I'll play. Which one am I?"

"The one that's not moving," Mikey answered.

"Why does that matter?"

"Cause if you stay still, I'll shoot you," Ray explained with a smirk.

Suddenly, my half screen went black, causing a group laugh at my expense. How did he already beat me?

"This is stupid." I declared, already not liking this game. I remember every time I tried to play a game, I failed miserably at it and I can see five years hasn't changed that what so ever. But at least when I tried them before, I actually moved before I died- I am the epitome of gaming failure.

"Aw, c'mon," they chorused, not wanting me to give up so quickly.

"Here, I'll help you," Gerard offered. "And as your official coach, my first bit of advice is to move this time."

I obeyed, biting my tongue, wanting to snap back a sarcastic comment. Those were my forte in life.

"Okay, now run into that box over there to get a gun." He paused to let me do so. Out of nowhere, a man appeared and Gerard quickly jabbed his finger on a button rapidly, shooting the person to the ground. I saw Ray's screen go blank, like mine did earlier and a small smile grew. Hardly appropriate but slightly invigorating to succeed.

"And there you have it. Now just go around collecting guns and shooting him and you'll be fine." Gerard patted me on the head, making me frown.

"But I already have a gun. Why do I need another?"

"Variety." He raised his left shoulder and half smiled then pointed to then screen with a chuckle. "Go get that box or something 'cause you're gonna die again just standing there."

"Yeah, yeah," I shrugged off, obtaining the said gun in the box.

"Now this button allows you to change guns." Gerard pointed to the appropriate one, and pressed it, making my character switch out guns from God-knows-where. I mimicked him, and smiled when the gun I had shot Ray with was back on screen.

"Oh boy," I said, getting the hang of it.

All of the sudden, my half of the screen went blank again.

"You died." Ray smiled. My jaw dropped, causing Shelly to snicker. I wasn't holding my lucky gun anymore. As demented as that sounded, that was my only form of success in a video game and it disappeared! I rapidly changed guns, but nothing happened- My gun was lost forever.

"You bastard!" I grabbed a pillow and chunked it at Ray, followed by another. He let out a surprised scream then scampered to the other couch.

"Mikey, you play!" He threw his controller into Mikey's lap and cowered out of my reach. All eyes were on Ray, so no one noticed the volume bar steadily rise that I saw out of the corner of my eye. It reached max by the time I fully turned my head in that direction. Someone was responsible for sitting on the remote.

Now I do know enough to know that if a video game gun is shot that loud, it will take my hearing.

"Mikey," I addressed cautiously

"Huh?" He turned to me, his controller shifting on his leg, making me nervous.

"Don't do anything. Ray-"

"What do you mean? I'll go easy on you, but I won't just stand here."

"No, Mikey, just sit. Ray-"

"What?"

"Can I finish my sentence?"

"That depends, can I get an answer?" He raised an eyebrow jokingly, crossing his arms, his controller dropped to the ground.

You would have thought it was a terrorist attack by the unnecessarily loud explosion and our screams of bloody murder. Out of reaction, I threw my controller up in the air to cover my ears but the cord reached its limit and crashed back into the game system. The screen dimmed a little, but regained its light a few seconds later except Mikey's character died...And continued dying every time his screen was relocated. Bob dramatically reached across the floor to the TV to turn the volume down.

"What did you do?!" Mikey frantically jammed all the buttons on his controller, but the system was unresponsive. He leaned forward and unplugged his controller then looked desperately up at the screen only to find his character continued dying.

"Oh, hell no." Mikey frowned, extending his arm to restart the game system. I dropped to the floor next to him and shoved him lightly away.

"No, I'm winning!" I objected.

"You're cheating!" Mikey attempted to lunge around me but was stopped by a successful block by me.

"I don't care!" I glanced to the timer at the top of the screen- less than 10 seconds left. I could win! This was my one and only chance to win at a video game!

"Time's up." Gerard doubled over in laugher. "Mikey, don't look at the screen."

Naturally, Mikey looked at the screen and immediately looked absolutely aghast. "63-2?!"

I smiled, gazing at the screen. I had gotten the high score. I was number one at a game I'd never played in my life. Mind you I cheated, but I was damn proud of my achievement.

"Dude, Julie, you beat Frank's high score!" Ray couldn't help but laugh. "He's gonna be so pissed off, just so you know."

"Hey, doll, can you put my name on that?" Gerard requested, nudging my shoulder.

"No way!" I grabbed my controller but instead of typing in 3 letters, I just stared at the screen. I never had to worry about putting in a high score previously. This was all so new.

"Here, I'll do it for you." Gerard reached an arm out to take the controller which I almost gave to him but I caught onto his plan.

"There will be none of that," I scolded and turned back to the controller. A few buttons later, I solved my dilemma then let the high score list sit on the screen to admire my work.

1. JMR
2. ASS (I assumed that was Frank)
3. MJW (Mikey, perhaps?)

"Well, I did pretty well for my first time," I decided, stretching with a triumphant smile. "I feel accomplished."

"I have never been beaten so badly before," Mikey whimpered with the same horrified expression plastered on his face.

I will never understand the effect video games have on guys. It's one of those things I guess I'll just never comprehend.