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Nov 26, 2005 19:48

Title: Beautifully Numb (Ch 1-Welcome to the Jungle)
Author: me, Chelsea
Rating:PG 13 (for now. Will rise.)
Summary: Growing up always seemed so much easier on tv.. AU. Frank is just a kid trying to find out where he fits in. But when hard times fall on his family, and his mind is a mess of confusion, he wonders if he ever will at all. (Much better than it sounds)
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Frank/Jepha,
Disclaimer:Don’t own, didn’t happen, get over it
Dedication: sinful_poppet cause I love her more than anything. And to anyone who gives this story a chance.
Notes: This is based off the book ‘The World of Normal Boys’ by K.M. Soehnlein, which if you haven’t read, you should. I put my own little twist on it though, so it is a bit different then the book. I changed where it takes place, and I changed the period of time when it takes place, so it will be a bit more modern. I also changed the names of the main characters siblings and parents, and obviously, his friends. But yeah, I suppose I should stop rambling and just let you read the story.



Frank’s POV

I watch the sun set over the small town of Downingtown, Pennsylvania and sigh softly. Shifting where I sit against the cool tiles of the roof I try and pretend that everything is simple and easy, trying to keep myself from looking at the big picture of things, trying to concentrate on that sunset alone. Not the cars bustling around the town, hurrying from one destination to the next. Not the sounds of my sister and my mom arguing downstairs.

I had climbed out onto the roof for this very reason, to get away from the busy part of life and to just enjoy the quieter things that no one seems to notice anymore. It’s my own little getaway up here. Because the roof outside my window extends out far enough to where I can climb out. And no one else knows about it. Well, maybe Calvin does, since we share a room. But I don’t think he comes up here.

I stare at the piece of paper in my hand and read over the words on it like I have been ever since the letter came in the mail. My hands are shaking a little, probably from nerves, but I’m really not all that sure. The edges of the paper are already dog eared from being folded and unfolded so many times. Mom tells me to stop being so obsessive and just try and relax, but I can’t. I sigh as I run my fingers over the words, hating the fear it instills in me.

And what’s in the letter that’s got me so freaked out you may ask? Well, at risk of sounding stupid, it’s my school schedule. Monday is my first day at Downingtown West Highschool as a 9th grader. I know that you’re probably thinking that I’m being silly by acting so nervous about it, but I’m not. I’ve heard the stories, none of which are good. All of the victims in those stories, are kids just like me. So I believe I have every right to be a little shaken up about walking into that environment.

Maybe I should explain a little bit about myself, just so you can really get what I’m saying here.

Let me start off by saying that I’m not exactly, well, like everyone else. And I don’t mean in the whole ‘individualist’ way either. No, because even the individuals fit in somewhere. I’m talking different in the fact that I’m kind of, well, no, not kind of, I’m a loser. I really am. And I’m not saying this to earn any sympathy from anyone, I’m saying it because it’s true. I really don’t fit in anywhere. And it’s not because I haven’t tried, because believe me I have. But it just doesn’t work for me. I always end up being the butt of everyone else’s jokes. I’m always the kid that gets picked on. It’s been that way for a while.

I can pinpoint exactly when it started. It was 3rd grade. That was the year that my teacher and my principal thought I was so ‘smart’ and so ‘special’ that I needed to be moved up a grade. So in the middle of the year, they took me from my friends and familiarity and put me into an environment that was anything but welcoming. A place where the phrase ‘we don’t need any third grade faggots’ was drilled into my mind daily.

From that moment on, it was never the same. I was shy and reserved, awkward. I stuck out like a sore thumb. It followed me all the way through middle school, and I knew now that it would follow me to highschool as well. Which brings me to my original point of why I’m so nervous about going.

I fold the letter again and put it into my back pocket, and I decide to focus my attention on the activity going on at my neighbor’s house. My best, and probably only friend, lives there. His name is Mikey, I’ve known him since I was 3. We’ve always gotten along really well, and I was really upset when he told me he was going to be at his cousin’s all summer.

He got back home yesterday, and called me as soon as he did. We always talk on the phone, but this time it was slightly different, because he did most of the talking. Actually, he didn’t shut up, not once. At one point I put the phone down and walked away to ask my mom something, and when I came back he was still talking. I know that’s really horrible and rude. But I couldn’t help it. Over the summer, Mikey changed. It’s a subtle change, one that you would have to look really hard to notice. And I think I did only because I’ve known him for so long.

He carries himself differently now. I noticed that when he came over. He’s more confident, more proud. Like the popular kids in school that always pick on me. He would tell me stories about the summer at his cousin’s beach house, talking about all the girls, acting like he was better than me, treating me like a kid. I didn’t like it at all.

I thought about all of this as I watched the house, shaking my head a little. It was starting to get darker out now, and I shiver a little because it’s kind of cold. In the driveway of the neighbor’s house, Mikey’s brother Gerard works on his car. He’s been working on it all summer, and I know for a fact that he and his dad have had a few arguments about it. I could hear them. He’s determined though, and that’s something to admire.

Gerard doesn’t really like me all that much. He always teases me. When I was 6 and he was 10, we were playing hide and go seek with Mikey and a few neighbor kids. And I was standing by this tree, counting, and all of a sudden Gerard walks up behind me and pulls my pants down. And of course, that was the day that my underwear was in the wash with something red, causing it to turn pink. Everyone laughed. And Gerard has called me ‘girly underwear’ ever since.

It really makes me mad too. And I guess I was thinking about it too much. Because I felt my temper flaring and my blood starting to boil, and every memory of him taunting me just came to my mind. So when Gerard got out from under his car and saw me up on the roof, he looked at me and said ‘What’re you staring at girly underwear?’, I snapped.

I glared at him and growled out. “Fuck you. That’s not my name.”

He looked a little surprised, not having been expecting the outburst I’m guessing. A smile spread across his face, like he was proud of me. “You’re right. My mistake, Frank.” He walked back into the house, and I watched him, confused.

By then it was really dark out, and I was shivering from being so cold. So I crawled back through my bedroom window and shut it, walking downstairs to the kitchen where my mother stood at the stove cooking, my dad at the table reading the paper. My little brother Calvin walked in, holding up the clothes my mom had bought him for the first day of school, a disgusted look on his face.

“Mom I am not wearing this!” He whined.

My mom didn’t even turn around. “But honey, it will look nice.”

He rolled his eyes. “No it won’t. Who do I look like, Frank? Mom I actually have a reputation!”

I glared at him. “Shut up Calvin.”

My dad didn’t look up from the paper, but he still said, “Watch your mouth Frank.”

Calvin stuck his tongue out at me before walking over to the cabinet and grabbing a cup, pouring himself a glass of red kool aid. He started walking back upstairs to our room, and a few seconds later we heard the glass drop and my sister Rachel scream. She ran down the stairs, tears in her eyes and red all over the front of her clothes for school.

“Mom! Look what Calvin did!”

My mom turned around, and we could hear Calvin cracking up on his way upstairs. “Don’t worry.” She said sympathetically. “It will come out.”

She frowned. “No it won’t.”

I sighed. “Suck it up Rachel.”

My dad turned and glared at me. “That’s enough Frank.”

I didn’t feel like listening to anymore of this, and I walked back upstairs to Calvin and I’s room, seeing him sitting on the bed with a book in his lap. I walk over and flop down on my bed, putting my hands behind my head.

Calvin throws the book at me and it hits me in the stomach as he says, “You are so boring.”

That’s when I realize that it’s my journal that he was reading.

Jesus Christ.

I glare at him and he just smirks, offering a little wave before leaving the room and walking downstairs.

You know, maybe Calvin is right. Maybe I am boring. I like to think of myself as more..safe. But since when has being safe been exciting? I mean, just looking at the two sides of our rooms you can tell who the more exciting person is. His is filled with sports trophies, posters on the wall and clothes thrown everywhere. My side is neat and organized, a couple of books on a desk in the corner.

So let’s see, I’m boring, I’m safe, I don’t fit in.

Highschool is going to eat me alive.
*********************************************
okay. I probably shouldn’t be starting a new story yet. But this idea hit me today and I couldn’t leave it alone. I am really excited about this one. And I think it’s going to turn out good. This chapter was to basically introduce frank’s character and show you a little bit of his life. Jepha will come into the story soon. Probably not until..chapter 4 or 5 though. I will have the next chapter out very soon. Hope you enjoyed it.
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