"Shots fired! Run!"

My blood runs cold in my veins. I'm too dumbfounded to react, I was never caught in such a situation and I can't believe that I actually heard those three dreadful words.

I can't tell where the gunshots came from. There are too many people screaming around me. People run frantically in all directions. The panicked crowd hurries erratically out of the cinema.

It's dangerous outside. I decide to hide in the cinema and I run inside to hide, convinced that the danger is in the streets. And then in a deserted hallway, I run across-

"Oh! Mister-"

As soon as he sees me, Mr. Iero grabs my wrist, plasters his back on a wall and tugs me back against him. My back against his chest. His leather-gloved hand is pressed on my mouth.

I confusedly glance back and notice that Mr. Iero is holding up a gun. My hearts is beating harder than ever before in my chest. I let out a whimper of both confusion and protest through the improvised gag.

"Shh..." He shushes softly before glancing back at the corner. I feel like my heart is about to burst. I don't know if it's because of the dangerous situation... or the dangerous man.

Who are you, Frank Iero?

"Are you hiding, Mr. Iero?" I inquire quietly. He looks at me without saying a word. I can literally feel how tense he is. "I... I know the perfect hiding spot. No one will find you. I can take you there, but first you have to let go of me."

Mr. Iero's hold loosens and he readjusts his burgundy tie. "Show me, Mr. Way."

My eyebrows rise. He remembers my name...

I lead him to the projection booth and, thank God, nobody sees us. We enter it; without surprise, it's empty. Mr. Iero runs a hand through his black hair, untensing a little. The silence is very awkward. What should I do? Maybe I should try to say something.

"This is the projector," I speak softly, pointing at the device. Mr. Iero's grave hazel eyes set on me. "Someone has to make it work so we can watch a movie, by making the crank turn during the whole movie. That makes the reel turn. Reels are composed of images that we make move really fast until it looks like actual motions. Basically."

"This is a critical situation, Mr. Way. I would appreciate that you pause your presentation on cinematographic technology. I must pay all my attention to what's going on outside."

I nervously tuck a brown strand of hair behind my ear. "Sorry, I just wanted to lighten the mood a little. I...I'm going to stop talking now."

I'm supposed to be a journalist, but I can't even handle a stressful situation. How embarrassing!

I hear a gunshot outside the room and gasp; Mr. Iero doesn't flinch. I start chewing at my nails. A deathly silence sets, at least from where we are hiding.

My heartbeat is slow, I can sense every beat in my chest. I'm conscious about my breathing, worried that it's too noisy. It feels like a century before Mr. Iero starts speaking again. "I'm going to go see what's going on outside. Stay here, Mr. Way."

He slides out of the room before I can answer and comes back after a few minutes.

"It seems that things have calmed down. We are not safe here though, we should go," he tells me. I follow him without a word. There are bullets impacts in the walls. If we hadn't hidden in the projection booth, these bullets could have reached us, I realize in dread.

Despite the circumstances, I grab my notebook by habit and start taking notes of what just occurred.

"I admire your professionalism, Mr. Way," Mr. Iero tells me as we walk. "But your life is in danger. Shouldn't safety be your priority?"

I look up from my notes. "I understand. Thank you, Mr. Iero."

"I am the one who should be thanking you. You saved my life," he stated, earnest. He stops in his tracks and so do I.  He looks deep into my eyes, which succeeds in intimidating me a little. "Listen, I know it is your job, but please understand. Some things are not supposed to be reported."

I tilt my head. What does he mean by that? Is he telling me that I shouldn't write about what happened tonight?

"If you want to keep reporting the news, you should firstly stay alive," Mr. Iero adds and hands me a piece of paper solemnly. "Here is my card. Give me a call if you ever need help."

I take the card and for the first time, I see Mr. Iero smile at me. There is something reassuring about it, like a thin ray of light in the middle of the dark clouds. I don't know if the dark clouds are a metaphor for the situation or for his somber attitude.

"Boss, we're done with the spring cleaning," Pete Wentz joins us. Spring cleaning? That sounds odd. We're not even in spring.

"Good. Let's go," Mr. Iero says, readjusting his trench coat.

"We- we just met by chance," Pete tells me.

"We just met by chance," I repeat in agreement, nodding.

"It's dangerous out there; why don't you come with us?" Pete offers.

"Sorry for the bother..." I mutter after I nodded.

"Get Mr. Way home then come back for me," Mr. Iero instructs. He nods at me and I follow Pete to the parking lot.

"I'm so stupid... The car..." Pete mumbles. "Please follow me, Mr. Way."

"Is there a problem with the car?" I inquire.

"Well, we only had time to prepare one car, everything happened so fast... The boss will have to wait until I've walked you home."

I decline. "Your boss is in greater danger than me. You should get him to safety."

"But the boss said-"

"-Okay, here is what you're going to do: tell him that I came across a colleague of mine and that I left with him, safe and sound. I am not kidding you, I came here with a colleague. I'll go look for him."

"Thank you for understanding, Mr. Way. Please take care," Pete says gratefully before hurrying back to the cinema.

I start getting lost in my thoughts. Mr. Iero might be abrupt, but I thought that he was a simple businessman. After all, my visit of the Welkin Tower showed me that he had workers and construction plans to supervise.
Yet, judging from how well he handled the situation, I would say it isn't the first time that he was confronted to this kind of problems. Would a businessman partake in shootings like this one?

"Gerard! Are you okay?" I feel Urie's hands on my shoulders. He looks at me worriedly, almost alarmed.

"I'm okay. What about you and Ms. Orzechowski?"

"We're fine. Someone got Sarah to safety - one of her employees."

"That's good news. What just happened would make a great article," I say. Urie looks stunned at my suggestion.

"How can you be so calm after getting caught in the middle of a mafia shooting? And think about work?" He is dumbfounded.

A mafia shooting?! That makes Mr. Iero even more suspicious. Who is he? What is his part in this?

"I'm bringing you home... Gerard? Hello? Earth to Gerard!"

I snap out of my thoughts when Urie waves his hand before my face. "Oh, sorry. I was distracted..."

"Or maybe you just don't want to go home...? I could take you to the office so you can clear your head, if that can help," Urie kindly offers.

I smile at him. "No, thank you, Urie. I'm not in the mood for work, actually. I'd rather go home. Sorry for sounding so immune. I have trouble realizing what just happened."

"It's okay, I understand. Get in." Urie opens his car door for me. He and I chat a little on our way to my place. But my mind keeps going back to Mr. Iero and the shooting. I'm thinking about our last encounter and everything that happened. I have so many questions that in the end, they start mixing up and form a big blur in my mind.

The most basic of those questions still echo a little louder than the others, but it's also the one I can't even begin to answer rationally. Why would a random person like me constantly get exposed to danger?

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