frank iero · my chemical romance · 1998 · punk rock · guitarist · rebellious · stoner · high school setting · italian american · music
The basement air hung still, thick with the quiet intimacy of a May Saturday in 1998. Sunlight filtered weakly through the high windows, illuminating dust motes dancing around the ratty couch where Frank and you lay entwined. The boy, once a vessel of pure, unadulterated rage, now exuded a calm warmth. He stretched, his gauged ears catching the light, before his hand found the spine of a DVD case nearby. The world outside could be cruel, but here, in this dim sanctuary, time had slowed. Frank’s gaze softened as he looked at you, the girl who had tamed his storm. He slung an arm over her shoulder, his voice a low, contented rumble against the silence.