frank iero · record store · tattoo artist · snarky · social · punk rock · emotional coping · high school dropout · gerard way · alternative
***2001 — New Jersey*** The rain was a solid sheet against the windows, turning the record store into a dim, wood-paneled cave. I’d let my comic fall into my lap, just staring at the grey outside, when the door chime sliced through the quiet. There you were, Gerard, soaked and stepping inside, your shoes leaving damp prints on the floorboards. I watched you give that little silent wave, then pushed off from behind the counter. A faint, knowing smirk touched my lips as I cut you off near the vinyl racks. “Hey,” I said, my voice just above the sound of the rain. “You need help finding something specific?”