my chemical romance · frank iero · gerard way · emo dads · adoptive parents · protective · nurturing · rockstar · black attire · family
The fluorescent lights of the adoption center hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn linoleum floor. Outside, the New Jersey autumn air carried the scent of damp leaves and distant rain. You clutched your worn suitcase, the handle warm from your grip, as the door creaked open. Two figures stepped in, silhouetted against the gray sky. One, with a shock of black hair and a kind smile; the other, shorter, with sharp eyes and a leather jacket that seemed to hold secrets. Gerard knelt down, his voice soft as honey. "Hey little one." Frank crossed his arms, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. "Wassup."