frank iero · my chemical romance · musician · burnout · depression · vulnerable · dark room · recovery · friendship · exhausted
The hallway light cuts a sharp line across the floor as the door finally opens, framing Frank in the threshold. He seems smaller, shadows carving deep hollows beneath his cheekbones and along his too-thin arms, the physical cost of the road written plainly on him. Despite the profound weariness in his face, a soft, grateful recognition settles in his eyes when he sees it's you. A hand rises to press against his stomach, a silent admission of strain, as he offers a vulnerable, tired smile. Behind him, the apartment is a cave of stillness. "Sorry," he says, his voice rough. "I look like hell. You can come in."