She wrote a lot of amazing fan fictions; she's a hell of a writer. But this is definitely my favourite from her, and it is for sure the best My Chemical Romance fan fiction I've ever read. And I've read quite a few. So, I thought I'd share it -again- with the World. Cuz it's awesome, and it deserves to be read.
"I thought I told you to shave it!" I barked at the half-asleep boyfriend in the backseat as the fiancée drove the car.
"But I don't like shaving it," Bert whined back.
"I know you don't but you have to because it looks really gross."
"'Really gross'?" He repeated, offended.
"Well I don't think it looks really gross but my parents will." I heard the fiancée trying not to laugh so the boyfriend wouldn't hear it. "Frank, back me up here."
"Yeah, she's right, Bert. Her parents are pretty horrible-" He saw, out of the corner of his eye, I turn and raise my eyebrow, so he quickly added "-but lovely people, really."
I punched him. "Oh shut up. Bert, you'd better shave it off before the Ball or I'll hold you down and wax every tiny hair I can find on your entire body."
He whimpered and turned his head, admiring the stubble fast growing into a proper beard in the glass of the window. "Why don't you like it, Carrie? I think it makes me look distinguished ... Even sexier, as if that's possible ... Manly. You know all that jazz."
Frank snorted. "Bert, she's right. You look homeless, dude, and her parents won't let you in if you look homeless."
Bert sighed. "Fine. Pull over at the next gas station."
Squealing with happiness, I took off my seat belt and twisted my body around to face Bert. I kissed his lips. "Thank you baby."
Frank coughed unnecessarily loudly and, when we looked at him, he averted his eyes and nodded to a sign up ahead. "Gas station in two minutes."
"Spaghetti-o's, chicken Pringles, Doritos, crumpets .. ooh! KitKats -"
Bert, who was reading a magazine to delay his inevitable shaving, looked up and cut me off, while looking incredulously at the food in my arms. "Carrie, what the hell? We're only half an hour away from your parents'."
I gave him my best snobby look. "Without all these supplies I am thoughtfully going to buy for the three of us, that would be a whole half an hour without food. Yeeeaah, think about it , yo-"
I stopped mid-sentence to scream, dropping the Pringles and crumpets, when someone who'd crept up behind us said..
"Ooh! KitKats!"
I turned around and shoved Frank against his chest lightly. "Do you mind? You scared my stomach into my throat, now how am I going to get it back?"
"Gimme a KitKat," he said simply, smiling in that way he knew I could never resist.
I rolled my eyes, while thinking Gah!, and shoved the soon-to-be-purchases into Frank's arms. "Fine, have your KitKat. I am going to use the ladies' room and Bert-"
He looked up from PentHouse reluctantly and blinked at me, disorientated
"- is going to go shave."
Bert's eye twitched but he didn't protest so I turned and entered the women's dirty and small restroom. My eyes bulged and I quickly made sure to breathe through my mouth not nose. BLAH, don't these people know how to flush and use the air freshener?!
After a thorough, determined search of the entire 8m, I knew that was most likely the reason - there was no air freshener. And no window.
I looked around in my bag and pulled out the vanilla essence Frank was obsessed with and insisted on spraying on every surface of the apartment when ever he managed to get his hands on it. After three quick squirts into the air above my head, the horrible odour was almost masked but at least now I could breathe properly without fainting.
Now I could sit on the basin beside the tiny, steel sink and do the crossword I'd ripped out of the magazine as I'd passed by upon entering. I-am-a-nerd.
Halfway through the crossword's completion, I just could help myself, I really couldn't.
I was sick of the silence but I was certain Bert wouldn't have done as I'd asked yet so I couldn't go out in search of company. So I started singing, my favourite lonely pass-time.
"Like a virgin / Oh! Touched for the very first time/ When your heart beats next to mine / Whoa-uh-oh-ohhh .. " I screwed up my face and tried to remember the rest of the song, knowing it was going to bug me otherwise.
I heard the door open. "Forget the words, Carrie?" I glared at him and he chuckled. "It's Madonna anyway, not worth knowing the lyrics."
I squinted at him. "I'll have you know that that song is a classic, Dipshit."
Frank snorted. "If you say so. You could have picked a better song to kill my eardrums with."
"Like what, eh?"
"Did you just 'eh' me?"
I puffed out my chest and tried to look imperious, though, I could tell by the look on Frank's face, I just ended up looking constipated or something equally non-impressive. "So what if I did?"
I didn't like the look on his face after I said this. It looked as if what he had to say he'd planned out, like it was part of a bigger scheme.
"I'll tell Bert that if he pulls your thumb while you're sleeping you'll snore. So ha!"
It was my turn to snort. "Oh no, now I'm scared."
I frowned as I watched him; there was that 'I've-rehearsed-this' look on his face again.
"I'll tell him that you hate cashews, are allergic to peanuts but spend thirty dollars a month just to export macadamias fromAustralia
I opened my mouth but closed it when he stepped closer to me. I just sat on the sink and watched him.
"Does he know your favourite colour is still pink even though you tell people it's blue? How about how you cried when The Bangles broke up -does he know that? No?"
I shook my head. So what if Bert didn't know my favourite nut or my favourite colour or my allergies?
"Does he know that you're scared the mole on your back, on your left shoulder blade-the one you think I don't know about- is going to change and you'll have cancer like your cousin Freddy did when you were just five years old? Or that you worst fear is drowning - that you'd rather burn to death than drown? Or that your 'proof' God is male is that women are the ones who go through periods, childbirth and PMS?"
We both smiled but then he moved forward still.
"Is Bert even aware that you have exactly three crinkles at the corner of both your eyes when you smile? Or that your nose wrinkles up when you yawn? I hope he's realized how you look like a cat when you stretch. And that you bury your face in the pillow when you're asleep, almost as if you know I- you're being watched."
How does he know all this? "Frank, you're kind of creeping me-"
He stopped directly in front of me. "I bet Bert doesn't even know exactly how sweet you are, exactly how kind, exactly how much of a dork. But he probably knows how beautiful you are even if all that other stuff doesn't matter at all to him."
I tried to look away but I couldn't. Blood rushed to my face, my palms insisted on sweating and my heart was thudding loud enough for the whole gas station to hear. I never knew he knew all that.
He leant forward and, surprised, I almost pulled away. But I didn't because I knew that any actions I'd make after what he'd said would be clumsy and let him know how I feel.
"Can he make you blush like that?"
No, I answered him silently in my head. I finally had the courage to say something when the door, yet again, opened and I lover over, feeling irrationally guilty, when I saw the shocked and sad look on Bert's face. But it was only there for a mere second before it was replaced by an insanely huge grin and he bounded over to me, happily.
"Look, it's all smooth now. Carrie, you like it like this - touch it!"
I reached out my hand and traced it over his clean-shaven jaw, smiling when he made that cooing noise he always made when ever I touched his face. Then he gasped out an 'Ow!' when I grasped his chin and turned his head the other way.
"You're bleeding, Bert, you klutz."
He gave me a panicked look. "I am? Oh no. Quick do something, it hurts."
I shook my head; he was acting like a kid. "Bullshit. You didn't even know it was there until I told you and now it automatically hurts?"
He just pouted so I decided to tent to him. Frank wandered off to the car, to wait for us he said, as I grabbed some toilet paper and Bert took my place on the basin. When we returned to the car, Bert was fine again, I was left to carry everything as he went on ahead and Frank was being extremely quiet. He didn't even need directions, not making a single mistake, and pulled into my parents' driveway, smiling proudly.
"Good job. Say Frank," Bert started to say casually, "what were you doing with Carrie in the bathroom before?"
"She sprayed vanilla," he answered simply. Seeing Bert's suspicious look, Frank quickly took off his seat belt and said softly, "C'mon, let's go."
As Frank got out, I looked at Bert and said dramatically in a stage whisper, "Prepare thyself."
"Carrie, stop being a twat and get out of the car," Frank snapped as he walked past with his one bag and my two, glaring at Bert as he did so.
"Frank, don't be chivalrous, I can carry my own bags," I yelled after him, getting out and trying to get them off of him.
"Carrie, stop being a feminist, I can carry your bags for you."
"Dipshit! I want to-"
I was cut off by a brunette, who looked rushed off her feet, coming up and asking all in one breath, "Hi, you must be the famous Carrie and the infamous Frank and I don't know who you are but would you all mind coming with me?"
She looked ready to snap if provoked so the three of us quickly followed her after sharing a look. Bert was staring around the house, looking impressed, and Frank was ahead of us, trying to talk to the girl who'd greeted us.
"So, what's your name?"
"Miranda."
"How did you know I was Frank?"
"I was given a visual."
"That's kind of creepy, stalker." She stayed silent so he asked, "What do you do?"
"I'm a friend of the family and they asked me to do the catering for the Ball tonight aswell as being a guest."
Frank smirked at her. "Then why are you greeting people and taking them inside?"
"What is this, twenty questions?"
"Are you flirting with me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
She stopped to give him an amused look. "Of course not, you're engaged."
He grinned back and I felt like ripping Miranda's eyes out and stomping them into the ground.
"I still maintain that you were flirting. I mean come on. Saying 'is this twenty questions' is pretty much like asking for sex."
He has a warped way of thinking. Why do I like him again?
"Well then let's not play that anymore."
He pouted at her response and I gritted my teeth. I-hate-her. "Where are my parents?" I asked.
She blinked at my sharp tone but answered primly, "Your dad is, um ... sampling tonight's dinner and your mother is reading."
"Where is she reading?" I asked, trying not to giggle as Bert made very loud exclamations of awe at our surroundings.
"Follow me," she ordered.
Bert skipped up to her, latched onto her arm and enthused, "The yellow brick road, right? Show me the way!"
Miranda looked like she didn't know how to react to his actions. "Um sure. What's your name?"
"Sir Robert but you - because I like you, I just can't tell why I do - can call me Bert."
I stopped Frank from following them with a hand on his arm and I hissed at him, "What was that back there? With all the twenty questions and the sex and flirting?"
"Jealous, Carrie?"
"Frank, we're at my parents’, could you at least pretend to not look at anyone else and be in love with me? Please?"
I gave him my saddest, most utterly pathetic look and he sighed. "Yeah sure. I'm sorry."
Beaming at him, I lead us through the house until we caught up with Bert and Miranda. Miranda was looking confused.
"What's wrong?" I asked her, wincing when I noticed my tone of voice was too abrupt, again.
"She's wandered off again; I swear the last time I saw her, she was in here." She gestured into the library. "Now she's not there."
"Don't you think you should pay better attention, Miranda?"
"I've only been gone for five minutes," she snapped back.
"Well, obviously -"
"Girls, girls, calm down," came my mother's voice, "I just went to the toilet. Is it too much to ask to let me urinate alone?"
"I like you," Bert announced.
Mom turned her icy gaze upon him and asked, "Carrie, Frank, who on Earth is this man and why is your hair purple?"
Bert's hand raised to his head. "But my hair's not purple."
"She means me," I told him. "It's not completely purple, Mom."
"Mm, it looks quite nice. Come and give me a hug before I disown you. Sweetie," she added and I set down my bags which I'd taken from Frank some time ago. When I hugged her, she critically felt my arms and then up and down my sides. "Carrie, why are you skin and bone? Are you eating your greens? Drinking enough water and calcium? I think you'd better come and live with your father and I until the wedding. It wouldn't be that long, just a month. I'd get you healthy again."
"Mom, please-"
"No, I worry about you. You've got no meat on you at all anymore. What happened to my beautiful daughter with the lovely hourglass figure?" She turned to Frank who was looking on with wide eyes. "You," she addressed him coldly, "have you been feeding my daughter?"
"I've been on tour, ma'am, and when I came back she was like this. I keep on stuffing her with chocolate and burgers but all she does is vomit it all back out again."
"Are you bulimic, Carrie?"
Miranda quietly told us she'd be leaving as she slipped away and I glared at my mother. "No."
"Okay, okay, I believe you." She scrutinized me. "Well you're not pregnant."
"How do you know?" I asked, anxiously.
She shrugged. "I don't but I have a feeling you're not. I'm quite often wrong so I'll put a pregnancy test in your bathroom just in case, okay darling? Let's hope you're not or your father will kill your fiancée. He still thinking you're a virgin."
Bert burst out in giggles and Frank and I glared at him. "Carrie a virgin? Haha!"
"Who the hell are you?" My charming mom asked.
"Sir Robert." I waited for him to say 'but you can call me Bert' but it didn't come.
"Hello Robert," she sniffed at him. "What're you doing here?"
"I am here to attend one of your balls. I heard they're quite impressive."
"You're not on the invite list. Did my generous daughter find you somewhere on the way here and bring you along?"
I glared at her and said mildly, before Bert had the chance to retort, "Mom, he's my friend, be nice."
"We don't have any room at the tables for an extra person, Carrie."
"I'll find somewhere for him, please."
She looked at me and then smiled at Bert. "Don't worry yourself over it dear. I'll arrange a suitable place for Robert."
I hugged her. "Thank you!"
She kissed my forehead. "I missed you. So," she turned to Frank again, "how are you?"
"Good I guess. And you?"
I silently applauded his politeness while Mom answered, "I'm fine, Frank. We're all looking forward to the wedding plans the both of you have made."
Frank and I looked at each other with mirrored expressions of 'Oh shit' thoughts.
26
"I thought I told you to shave it!" I barked at the half-asleep boyfriend in the backseat as the fiancée drove the car.
"But I don't like shaving it," Bert whined back.
"I know you don't but you have to because it looks really gross."
"'Really gross'?" He repeated, offended.
"Well I don't think it looks really gross but my parents will." I heard the fiancée trying not to laugh so the boyfriend wouldn't hear it. "Frank, back me up here."
"Yeah, she's right, Bert. Her parents are pretty horrible-" He saw, out of the corner of his eye, I turn and raise my eyebrow, so he quickly added "-but lovely people, really."
I punched him. "Oh shut up. Bert, you'd better shave it off before the Ball or I'll hold you down and wax every tiny hair I can find on your entire body."
He whimpered and turned his head, admiring the stubble fast growing into a proper beard in the glass of the window. "Why don't you like it, Carrie? I think it makes me look distinguished ... Even sexier, as if that's possible ... Manly. You know all that jazz."
Frank snorted. "Bert, she's right. You look homeless, dude, and her parents won't let you in if you look homeless."
Bert sighed. "Fine. Pull over at the next gas station."
Squealing with happiness, I took off my seat belt and twisted my body around to face Bert. I kissed his lips. "Thank you baby."
Frank coughed unnecessarily loudly and, when we looked at him, he averted his eyes and nodded to a sign up ahead. "Gas station in two minutes."
"Spaghetti-o's, chicken Pringles, Doritos, crumpets .. ooh! KitKats -"
Bert, who was reading a magazine to delay his inevitable shaving, looked up and cut me off, while looking incredulously at the food in my arms. "Carrie, what the hell? We're only half an hour away from your parents'."
I gave him my best snobby look. "Without all these supplies I am thoughtfully going to buy for the three of us, that would be a whole half an hour without food. Yeeeaah, think about it , yo-"
I stopped mid-sentence to scream, dropping the Pringles and crumpets, when someone who'd crept up behind us said..
"Ooh! KitKats!"
I turned around and shoved Frank against his chest lightly. "Do you mind? You scared my stomach into my throat, now how am I going to get it back?"
"Gimme a KitKat," he said simply, smiling in that way he knew I could never resist.
I rolled my eyes, while thinking Gah!, and shoved the soon-to-be-purchases into Frank's arms. "Fine, have your KitKat. I am going to use the ladies' room and Bert-"
He looked up from PentHouse reluctantly and blinked at me, disorientated
"- is going to go shave."
Bert's eye twitched but he didn't protest so I turned and entered the women's dirty and small restroom. My eyes bulged and I quickly made sure to breathe through my mouth not nose. BLAH, don't these people know how to flush and use the air freshener?!
After a thorough, determined search of the entire 8m, I knew that was most likely the reason - there was no air freshener. And no window.
I looked around in my bag and pulled out the vanilla essence Frank was obsessed with and insisted on spraying on every surface of the apartment when ever he managed to get his hands on it. After three quick squirts into the air above my head, the horrible odour was almost masked but at least now I could breathe properly without fainting.
Now I could sit on the basin beside the tiny, steel sink and do the crossword I'd ripped out of the magazine as I'd passed by upon entering. I-am-a-nerd.
Halfway through the crossword's completion, I just could help myself, I really couldn't.
I was sick of the silence but I was certain Bert wouldn't have done as I'd asked yet so I couldn't go out in search of company. So I started singing, my favourite lonely pass-time.
"Like a virgin / Oh! Touched for the very first time/ When your heart beats next to mine / Whoa-uh-oh-ohhh .. " I screwed up my face and tried to remember the rest of the song, knowing it was going to bug me otherwise.
I heard the door open. "Forget the words, Carrie?" I glared at him and he chuckled. "It's Madonna anyway, not worth knowing the lyrics."
I squinted at him. "I'll have you know that that song is a classic, Dipshit."
Frank snorted. "If you say so. You could have picked a better song to kill my eardrums with."
"Like what, eh?"
"Did you just 'eh' me?"
I puffed out my chest and tried to look imperious, though, I could tell by the look on Frank's face, I just ended up looking constipated or something equally non-impressive. "So what if I did?"
I didn't like the look on his face after I said this. It looked as if what he had to say he'd planned out, like it was part of a bigger scheme.
"I'll tell Bert that if he pulls your thumb while you're sleeping you'll snore. So ha!"
It was my turn to snort. "Oh no, now I'm scared."
I frowned as I watched him; there was that 'I've-rehearsed-this' look on his face again.
"I'll tell him that you hate cashews, are allergic to peanuts but spend thirty dollars a month just to export macadamias from
I opened my mouth but closed it when he stepped closer to me. I just sat on the sink and watched him.
"Does he know your favourite colour is still pink even though you tell people it's blue? How about how you cried when The Bangles broke up -does he know that? No?"
I shook my head. So what if Bert didn't know my favourite nut or my favourite colour or my allergies?
"Does he know that you're scared the mole on your back, on your left shoulder blade-the one you think I don't know about- is going to change and you'll have cancer like your cousin Freddy did when you were just five years old? Or that you worst fear is drowning - that you'd rather burn to death than drown? Or that your 'proof' God is male is that women are the ones who go through periods, childbirth and PMS?"
We both smiled but then he moved forward still.
"Is Bert even aware that you have exactly three crinkles at the corner of both your eyes when you smile? Or that your nose wrinkles up when you yawn? I hope he's realized how you look like a cat when you stretch. And that you bury your face in the pillow when you're asleep, almost as if you know I- you're being watched."
How does he know all this? "Frank, you're kind of creeping me-"
He stopped directly in front of me. "I bet Bert doesn't even know exactly how sweet you are, exactly how kind, exactly how much of a dork. But he probably knows how beautiful you are even if all that other stuff doesn't matter at all to him."
I tried to look away but I couldn't. Blood rushed to my face, my palms insisted on sweating and my heart was thudding loud enough for the whole gas station to hear. I never knew he knew all that.
He leant forward and, surprised, I almost pulled away. But I didn't because I knew that any actions I'd make after what he'd said would be clumsy and let him know how I feel.
"Can he make you blush like that?"
No, I answered him silently in my head. I finally had the courage to say something when the door, yet again, opened and I lover over, feeling irrationally guilty, when I saw the shocked and sad look on Bert's face. But it was only there for a mere second before it was replaced by an insanely huge grin and he bounded over to me, happily.
"Look, it's all smooth now. Carrie, you like it like this - touch it!"
I reached out my hand and traced it over his clean-shaven jaw, smiling when he made that cooing noise he always made when ever I touched his face. Then he gasped out an 'Ow!' when I grasped his chin and turned his head the other way.
"You're bleeding, Bert, you klutz."
He gave me a panicked look. "I am? Oh no. Quick do something, it hurts."
I shook my head; he was acting like a kid. "Bullshit. You didn't even know it was there until I told you and now it automatically hurts?"
He just pouted so I decided to tent to him. Frank wandered off to the car, to wait for us he said, as I grabbed some toilet paper and Bert took my place on the basin. When we returned to the car, Bert was fine again, I was left to carry everything as he went on ahead and Frank was being extremely quiet. He didn't even need directions, not making a single mistake, and pulled into my parents' driveway, smiling proudly.
"Good job. Say Frank," Bert started to say casually, "what were you doing with Carrie in the bathroom before?"
"She sprayed vanilla," he answered simply. Seeing Bert's suspicious look, Frank quickly took off his seat belt and said softly, "C'mon, let's go."
As Frank got out, I looked at Bert and said dramatically in a stage whisper, "Prepare thyself."
"Carrie, stop being a twat and get out of the car," Frank snapped as he walked past with his one bag and my two, glaring at Bert as he did so.
"Frank, don't be chivalrous, I can carry my own bags," I yelled after him, getting out and trying to get them off of him.
"Carrie, stop being a feminist, I can carry your bags for you."
"Dipshit! I want to-"
I was cut off by a brunette, who looked rushed off her feet, coming up and asking all in one breath, "Hi, you must be the famous Carrie and the infamous Frank and I don't know who you are but would you all mind coming with me?"
She looked ready to snap if provoked so the three of us quickly followed her after sharing a look. Bert was staring around the house, looking impressed, and Frank was ahead of us, trying to talk to the girl who'd greeted us.
"So, what's your name?"
"Miranda."
"How did you know I was Frank?"
"I was given a visual."
"That's kind of creepy, stalker." She stayed silent so he asked, "What do you do?"
"I'm a friend of the family and they asked me to do the catering for the Ball tonight aswell as being a guest."
Frank smirked at her. "Then why are you greeting people and taking them inside?"
"What is this, twenty questions?"
"Are you flirting with me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
She stopped to give him an amused look. "Of course not, you're engaged."
He grinned back and I felt like ripping Miranda's eyes out and stomping them into the ground.
"I still maintain that you were flirting. I mean come on. Saying 'is this twenty questions' is pretty much like asking for sex."
He has a warped way of thinking. Why do I like him again?
"Well then let's not play that anymore."
He pouted at her response and I gritted my teeth. I-hate-her. "Where are my parents?" I asked.
She blinked at my sharp tone but answered primly, "Your dad is, um ... sampling tonight's dinner and your mother is reading."
"Where is she reading?" I asked, trying not to giggle as Bert made very loud exclamations of awe at our surroundings.
"Follow me," she ordered.
Bert skipped up to her, latched onto her arm and enthused, "The yellow brick road, right? Show me the way!"
Miranda looked like she didn't know how to react to his actions. "Um sure. What's your name?"
"Sir Robert but you - because I like you, I just can't tell why I do - can call me Bert."
I stopped Frank from following them with a hand on his arm and I hissed at him, "What was that back there? With all the twenty questions and the sex and flirting?"
"Jealous, Carrie?"
"Frank, we're at my parents’, could you at least pretend to not look at anyone else and be in love with me? Please?"
I gave him my saddest, most utterly pathetic look and he sighed. "Yeah sure. I'm sorry."
Beaming at him, I lead us through the house until we caught up with Bert and Miranda. Miranda was looking confused.
"What's wrong?" I asked her, wincing when I noticed my tone of voice was too abrupt, again.
"She's wandered off again; I swear the last time I saw her, she was in here." She gestured into the library. "Now she's not there."
"Don't you think you should pay better attention, Miranda?"
"I've only been gone for five minutes," she snapped back.
"Well, obviously -"
"Girls, girls, calm down," came my mother's voice, "I just went to the toilet. Is it too much to ask to let me urinate alone?"
"I like you," Bert announced.
Mom turned her icy gaze upon him and asked, "Carrie, Frank, who on Earth is this man and why is your hair purple?"
Bert's hand raised to his head. "But my hair's not purple."
"She means me," I told him. "It's not completely purple, Mom."
"Mm, it looks quite nice. Come and give me a hug before I disown you. Sweetie," she added and I set down my bags which I'd taken from Frank some time ago. When I hugged her, she critically felt my arms and then up and down my sides. "Carrie, why are you skin and bone? Are you eating your greens? Drinking enough water and calcium? I think you'd better come and live with your father and I until the wedding. It wouldn't be that long, just a month. I'd get you healthy again."
"Mom, please-"
"No, I worry about you. You've got no meat on you at all anymore. What happened to my beautiful daughter with the lovely hourglass figure?" She turned to Frank who was looking on with wide eyes. "You," she addressed him coldly, "have you been feeding my daughter?"
"I've been on tour, ma'am, and when I came back she was like this. I keep on stuffing her with chocolate and burgers but all she does is vomit it all back out again."
"Are you bulimic, Carrie?"
Miranda quietly told us she'd be leaving as she slipped away and I glared at my mother. "No."
"Okay, okay, I believe you." She scrutinized me. "Well you're not pregnant."
"How do you know?" I asked, anxiously.
She shrugged. "I don't but I have a feeling you're not. I'm quite often wrong so I'll put a pregnancy test in your bathroom just in case, okay darling? Let's hope you're not or your father will kill your fiancée. He still thinking you're a virgin."
Bert burst out in giggles and Frank and I glared at him. "Carrie a virgin? Haha!"
"Who the hell are you?" My charming mom asked.
"Sir Robert." I waited for him to say 'but you can call me Bert' but it didn't come.
"Hello Robert," she sniffed at him. "What're you doing here?"
"I am here to attend one of your balls. I heard they're quite impressive."
"You're not on the invite list. Did my generous daughter find you somewhere on the way here and bring you along?"
I glared at her and said mildly, before Bert had the chance to retort, "Mom, he's my friend, be nice."
"We don't have any room at the tables for an extra person, Carrie."
"I'll find somewhere for him, please."
She looked at me and then smiled at Bert. "Don't worry yourself over it dear. I'll arrange a suitable place for Robert."
I hugged her. "Thank you!"
She kissed my forehead. "I missed you. So," she turned to Frank again, "how are you?"
"Good I guess. And you?"
I silently applauded his politeness while Mom answered, "I'm fine, Frank. We're all looking forward to the wedding plans the both of you have made."
Frank and I looked at each other with mirrored expressions of 'Oh shit' thoughts.
xo-
~ My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. ~
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