After school I walked home.

I had learned that the hot guy's name is Frank Iero.

It seemed that Frank was going to walk as well.

Someone tapped my shoulder.

Slowly, I turned around.

"Gerard, right?" Frank asked.

I nodded my head.

"I'm fra-" I interrupted him, "I know."

He smirked, "nice voice."

"Thanks.."

He loosened his tie, "it seems like we're at a funeral with all this black and wearing suits."

"That's not a coincidence," I said, "they want it to seem like that."

Frank's eyebrow raised, "tell me what you know about this."

And so I told him about it all, everyone disappearing, everything.

In that moment I had told him about things that I've never told anyone else.

He knew about my old friends going missing and about how long I've lived like this.

I ran a hand through my fading red hair.

Right then I wasn't thinking, right then I grabbed Frank's hand.

He didn't seem to mind.

In that moment I just needed to hold onto something- someone.

It wasn't a want anymore, it was a need.

Rules left: you must wear the same clothes, everyone must write the same, no inappropriate behaviour, don't lie, don't steal, no drugs and no alcohol.