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

There he was.

Mere feet away from me was Frank Iero. Sticking to my word to Shelly earlier, I decided now was the right time to talk to Frank. I gave the situation a week and I finally had it all mapped out in my head- I would stop him after they finished their encore, when he would be heading off stage, walking by Shelly and I. After the show is one of the only times I see Frank, so what better time?

My adrenaline pumped when I recognized their wonderful set to be over. I kept my eye on Frank as he lapped up one last amount of cheering then turned to leave.

This was it- This was my moment!

...Hey, wait. Where the hell did he think he was going?

My excitement came crashing to a halt when Frank exited the stage. It would have been fine and dandy if he hadn't made a turn and left the side OPPOSITE to me. My eyes narrowed at him as the rest of his band mates approached my side, wondering if he did that on purpose. I did not just spend a week prepping myself for this very moment, just to have it chucked away by a silly change in scene.

Instead of greeting the guys with praise like I normally did, I took off running, hoping to get to the other side in enough time.

"Hey, babe, what's the hurry?" I heard Gerard scream over the audience. I turned halfway back to my puzzled friends, still charging forward.

"I'll meet up with you later!" I called back, waving an arm in their general direction. I resumed my running, avoiding people, boxes, and equipment alike until I soon arrived to the other side. I slowed my pace and my eyes began scanning the area for the guitarist. I became discouraged when I didn't spot him right away, and my spirit sunk even more when he continued to not be in sight.

Then out of nowhere, by a stroke of luck, I suddenly saw him shuffling toward the backstage parking lot, his hands shoved in his pockets. Before I had time to think over what I was going to say, I headed toward him.

"Hey, Frank," I addressed, approaching him from the side. Without even a passing glance, he continued walking right past me, his head held down.

"Hey," I repeated, a little annoyed. I knew for a fact he saw me and knew I was there, but he pressed on. I grunted in frustration and stalked after him with large strides.

"Frank," I called, loud enough so he and his convenient ear problems could hear me. I noticed there were stairs up ahead so I quickly chased in front of him and barricaded his way so he couldn't get by. He tried walking around but I blocked his every attempt until he finally gave up with a sigh and crossed his arms, planting his feet to the ground.

"What could you possibly want?" he asked, his jaw stuck out in impatience. This was the first sentence I'd heard him speak in a week; I had almost forgotten what it sounded like.

"I possibly want to maybe...Talk to you?" I formed a question, shrugging my shoulders hopefully.

"I'm busy," he stated, narrowing his eyes.

"Busy doing what?" I questioned, cocking my head to the side. All he did after a performance was either sit in a corner and listen to Linkin Park or go on the bus and sleep, the latter being more frequent.

"Not talking to you." With force, he pushed past me and began up the steps. Desperately, I snapped around and latched onto his arm before he got too far away from me. He turned around to face me, letting me hold onto his long sleeve.

"Please?" I begged, looking at him through pleading eyes. I hated when people were mad at me, and like Shelly said earlier, I have resolution issues. Everything needs an answer.

To my surprise, he didn't rip his sleeve out of my grip in disgust and walk away, mocking my every behavior. Instead, his expression softened and his eyebrows drew together. He gazed into my eyes, almost longingly. We stayed in the same position for a few seconds, me getting more and more lost by the second.

"You have her eyes," Frank whispered, a tinge of sadness showed through. I eyed him strangely, not understanding what he was getting at. But soon, I recognized his sorrowful expression to be identical with when he told me about his ex. My arm loosely dropped from his sleeve, knowing he didn't seem to be going anywhere.

"Every time I see you, I see her." His expression slowly became angrier and hostile. "Every time I see you, I get mad all over again." He frowned and averted his eyes away from me. "And then I get even more frustrated because I know-" He took a breath and let it out. "-Because I know I'm still not fucking over her, no matter how much I try and convince myself. I should be, but I'm just not."

The truth finally reveals itself in an unsavory way.

I was taken by surprise and I didn’t know how to react so we continued standing in silence, our thoughts consuming us. Frank’s eyes slowly closed and he swallowed.

"Sorry," he suddenly croaked. I looked at him unsurely, wondering what prompted this sudden change in heart. I mean yes, I'd been waiting to hear that the past week, but this was rather...Random? Frank saw my confusion when he opened his eyes again, then continued.

"You're not her, and I just need to get that out of my head," Frank explained, fidgeting with a loose string on his sleeve, entranced with the ground. "But anger has just been consuming me lately. And what you said last week just put me over the edge."

"Sorry, but which-"

"You told me," he cut me off, already knowing my question, "'God forbid we upset the princess.'"

I thought back to last week at the Stop N Go, replaying our fight in my mind. So it WAS a bad idea to say that after all.

"That was one of the last things she said to me right before we broke up. When you said that, I just...Snapped." He shook his head to himself.

"I'm sorry," I offered my apologies to him, still not sure how to react. I had no idea about all these things I unknowingly did to set him off. At least there was a reason to why he homed his anger on me. That being said, it wasn't necessary in the least, but I understood where all his rage was coming from.

"It's not your fault," he mumbled. His eyes had been cast down practically the entire conversation; his recent apologetic tone still seemed alien to me since all I'd heard out of him was wry and hateful comments. "I wouldn't expect you to know; I keep everything to myself. I can't tell you how many people think I'm crazy. Most of the things I do probably don't make sense to anyone else but me."

"Well, from my experience, I'm going to have to agree with that."

"Yeah...Well, now you know." Frank nodded his head conclusively. "It's been a week; I've sort of cooled off from the initial anger, so I'll lay off the hate if I see you."

"Woah, woah," I said, suddenly alarmed. "What do you mean if I see you? Aren't you gonna start riding with the guys again?"

He looked forward stoically, shaking his head.

"I haven't told them about Lauren yet. I don't know why, but I just can't bring myself to."

"I think you just don't want to admit it," I shared quietly.

He glanced over at me, surprised with my answer. He slowly crossed his arms, looking to be in thought. I bet he wasn't expecting that; I handled that better than a fortune cookie and a magic 8 ball combined.

"Maybe if you just get everything off your chest it'll be easier to forget, instead of bottling it up and being reminded every second."

"I'm not really that kind of guy," he said hesitantly.

"Then you're not gonna feel better anytime soon. Love can make or break someone, and as much as you probably don't want it, the latter is where you're heading. You should try to tell someone everything and maybe they can help, which is sometimes all you need."

"Maybe," Frank whispered, looking to the side in thought. Ending our conversation, he slowly wheeled around and began climbing the steps. I sighed then faced the opposite direction, deciding to let him go. I didn't want to make him continue talking if he felt uncomfortable with the situation. Despite my advice, I don't know how much I'd want to talk about it if I were in his shoes.

Before I almost began my way back to the band, I heard some footsteps behind me. I turned around, shocked to see Frank standing with a sullen expression.

"Her name was Lauren; she had brown hair and green eyes; she used to make me waffles in the morning and I miss her so fucking much."

I was at a loss for words because I knew that no sentence in the human language could console him and end his heartache, no matter how critical his pain. Not knowing what else to do, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around Frank, embracing him in a hug. He tensed up at first, but then mirrored my action, hugging back tightly, casting away a previous feeling of hatred. He rested his forehead on my shoulder and we continued standing that way, uninterrupted, as I slowly began the process to mend his broken heart.

I wasn't going anywhere.

--

While Linkin Park played their set, Frank and I sat cross-legged next to each other on the ground in the corner next to the stairway. Nobody paid any mind to us, just like we didn’t pay any mind to them. I listened intently as Frank told me about his three and a half year relationship with the girl named Lauren. He started at the very, almost unrealistic, beginning, where they had one of those Hollywood moments, an immediate connection by a simple lock of the eyes, to when it came crashing down in the last month or so, her personality morphing into someone completely foreign to him.

For someone who didn’t share his feelings with anyone, Frank sure had a way with his words. He described the sheer happiness he felt around her and how his heart jumped at the mere mention of her name so passionately that I found myself actually beaming along with him, and described the anger, betrayal, and anguish he felt every second he thought of her and what she did to him to a point where I wanted to punch the bitch that I’d never even met.

I didn’t know a single person could feel so strongly about anything. I never realized how much I’d just floated through life up until now, hearing all these vivid thoughts and descriptions. Looking back, I’ve never truly felt happiness, or sadness, or anything really. I’d spent all my time focused on school or work related things that, in all actuality, I really couldn’t care less about. The most I remember caring about something was from the start of this tour, just talking to Frank. But I’d never let anyone know about those things.

“You know,” I stated, once Frank was through. “I hate to get all cliché on you, but the expression, ‘It’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all’ comes into play perfectly here.”

“Are you kidding?” Frank rolled his eyes. “I’d take it all back if I could.”

“Really? If I were you I wouldn’t,” I found myself saying. He cocked his head to the side in question.

“Why?” he asked bluntly, looking at me strangely.

“Oh, never mind,” I mumbled, tracing circles on the leg of my pants.

“No, really. Why? I’d give anything to not feel this way.”

“Don’t say that,” I whispered, beginning to feel dejected due to never coming anywhere close in my life to feeling anything he did.

“Hate to be redundant, but why?” I swallowed, trying to piece together what I was going to say.

“I just-“ Frank looked at me expectantly. I pursed my lips and continued, about to tell him what I’d never told anyone, including Shelly.

“I hear all these things that you feel and I can’t help but want them. I want to feel something, even if it’s the pain, though preferably happy, because that would mean I’ve experienced something. But…I’ve never felt anything in retrospective.” I frowned to myself, feeling suddenly gloomy. I saw Frank out of the corner of my eye listening with the same intensity I did for him. I had no idea why I was opening up to practically a stranger, especially one that was temporarily dubbed my enemy. But I guess I had to take my own advice sometime.

“If I ever felt that way about someone in my life, I’d want to keep that feeling and remember it forever that way I know it is possible to be that happy. I’m sorry it didn’t work out in the end, but as the other cliché term so properly puts it, don’t you want to cherish all the good times? There are too many people in the world to have a special bond with just one person. I have no doubt you cared for Lauren a lot, but she just wasn’t the one to carry you to the end. It wouldn’t have happened that way if it wasn’t supposed to. You’ll find the right person some day.”

“So, you believe in that happily ever after shit?” he asked bemused, placing his chin on his balled up fists.

“I try to.”

“I wish I did. Maybe I’d have a better output in life, but I’ve just never been able to grasp that mentality before.”

I hummed shortly in response, a little discouraged.

“It’s great that you do, though,” he admired, adding onto his comment. “Maybe I will, too one day. But for now, Lauren hasn’t left me much to believe in.”

“You know what?” I asked suddenly, breaking the solemn mood.

“Hm?”

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had, and I actually forgot that we’re supposed to be in a feud.”

“Huh. You’re right,” he realized, raising his eyebrows. “I never would have thought to have this conversation with you after how things have been going. I actually feel a little better, now. It feels good to talk to someone, not just about Lauren, but talking in general. I haven’t had an actual conversation in about two weeks.”

“So does this mean you’re going to actually be the social butterfly that I’ve been told about?”

“What?” He scoffed at my description of him.

“The guys talk about you a lot. They miss not having you around,” I informed, hoping that would get him to change his mind about riding in the bus he belonged in. Frank bit his lip, hesitantly.

“Do you ever sometimes feel like you just need to get away from everyone?” Frank asked quietly after a few seconds.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about my life a lot lately, ‘cause you know, I haven’t really been doing much so I’ve had the time.” He laughed dryly to himself. “They’re my best friends in the entire fucking world, yet I can’t tell them so many things. We do practically everything together it seems like, and if something ends that I don’t want to, I never want to tell them because that’ll mean that it’s for sure gone. Everyone knows that it’s gone, so there’s no chance of it coming back. Do you know what I mean?”

“Sort of.”

“I can’t come to grips with anything, yet.” He groaned in aggravation then brought his knees to his chest, placing his forehead on them. “I just can’t talk to them, and I don’t entirely know why. I need some time to clear my head, otherwise I’ll go all manic depressive probably and stab myself. I don’t know.” He laughed at himself again as he raised his head, but it was the same wry laugh that had a hint of seriousness to it.

“I bet it’d be a faster death if you jumped into the pit at one of your shows.” I giggled, glancing toward the rabid crowd barely visible behind all the boxes of equipment and the giant screen set up.

“You’re probably right on that call,” he agreed, sniggering along with me.

“See? You can be happy without Lauren- There’s a smile.” I pointed to his face with a grin of my own.

“Where?” He slapped a hand on his face. “Get it off!”

I laughed along with Frank. If someone had told me this time last week Frank and I would actually be laughing with each other, I’d do a double take and ask them if they had the right Frank. But now, it somehow felt almost natural. Maybe I am capable of feeling happy.