Do not own My Chemical Romance. O.k, I know Mikey Way is married, and is perfectly happy, but does that mean that I can't write a story about what might have hapened if he never met his wife? Yeah so no flames will be accepted. Enjoy!

Name: Dinah Simone Ireland.

Age: 16.

Body Weight: 100.

Hair Color: Tawny Brown.

Eye Color: Blue.

Talents: Photography, Ballet.

Favorite band: Anthrax.

Friends: Mikey Way, so-so relationship with Gerard Way.

Ethnicity: Italian/ Czechoslovakian.

Pets: A rabbit named Alice.

School: Belleview High, classes with Mikey Way.

Appearance: Sickly, but lively.

Normal p.o.v

Dinah Ireland stood by her locker, completly transfixed on the picture of her and Mikey on her locker door. It was black and white, they were at the park, and they were smiling. Mikey's glasses were a little tilted and askew, and a lock of Dinah's hair was on Mikey's forehead. Dinah smiled and grabbed her English book, dropping it just as soon when a voice yelled ' Dinah!' behind her. She twirled around and hugged Mikey.

" Hi Mikey." He hugged back.

" You still looking at that picture?" I nodded.

" You still free for Sushi at my house? Mary left before I came to school for Happy Hour, so if she comes home, she'll be wasted." My Stepmom is a professional Wino. She could live off of bar peanuts and vodka olives. I can fend for myself though, I've got a decent job at a music store, and the only time Dad comes home is once every month to showboat me to his rich buddies. " And Dad won't be home." Mikey hated my Dad with a passion: Not only because of the showboating, but the fact that he often made cracks about people that were more poor than him, aiming them at Mikey.

" Has your Dad made his monthly visit yet?"

" No, not until next week. He wants to take me to his Mother's country club to sing with the other rich girls." I said as we walked to English.

" After last month, you're still gonna go?"

" I don't really have a choice Mikey, I have to! They want me to do a Quintet for 'Golden Afternoon' from Alice in Wonderland. At least I'm not alone, Cornelia hates it too." I said as the pain, repeatedly, went through my spine. I hissed and curved my spine.

" Scoliosis again?" I nodded, eyes squinted together in pain. Mikey sat down at his desk, and I sat down by his legs. Whenever my back started hurting, Mikey massaged it. It hurt, but it was a good pain, like the kind you get when you stretch after a long time. I swear, Mikey's hands are like magic. So, Mikey hates my Dad, my Dad doesn't want me hanging around Mikey because he thinks I like him. Well you know what? He's right.

I liked Mikey since the first day of Pre-K. I told him I thought he was cute, he thought I had cooties, I cried for a long time, until he came over and said ' Sowwy.' We had been buddies ever since. That was back in the days when his glasses didn't fit him yet. Luckily, Mikey and I had finished our English project, so we could talk while everyone else worked. " So unless you have some kind of idea for a school project that I absolutely can't get out of, I have to go. Don't give me that look, it isn't my fault!"

" But you can tell your precious Daddy that you don't want to go."

" No I can't! I came to school with a black eye the last time that happened! You KNOW my Dad is a control freak! I can't say no!"

" So you're going to let him control your life?"

" Mikey, I'm not going to keep having this discusion with you, if all you're going to do is argue over something I can't control!"

" Then get a fucking spine!"

" I have one! It's the thing that generates so much intense pain that I stay up all night in pain!"

I gave him a glare and turned around in my seat and wrote in my notebook. I knew I wouldn't give in and apologize first, not this time. He told me to grow a spine, he can swallow his pride. He sighed, and I heard his head hit the desk. While Mikey mopes, I should explain myself better. My mom died when I was 14, 2 years ago, in a head-on collision and she threw herself over me to protect me. I suffered a piece of glass embedded into my neck, which was easily removed, but that didn't compare to the pain of my Mothers death. Mikey held me as I cried like I was slowly being ripped apart, inside out, limb by limb, when I heard that my Mother died instantly.

Mikey had even done what my Mother did when I was erratic, or shocked, whatever you wanna call it: He put my head to his chest, covered my eyes and ears, and let me listen to the beating of his heart as I cried. Mama told me once that when I had Colic, she did the same thing, telling me that in 1 minute, I was sound asleep. She said it was calming for the soul to listen to a heartbeat in a fetal position, resembling the 9-month residence in the Mothers womb. She was a calm, wonderful woman to be around. She deserved better than my Father. Sure, he paid for the church service, cremation and such, but it was out of sympathy and obligation. Mikey held me as I silently cried, shushing me, and cooing like he always did when I was upset. Mikey always calmed me down, and I returned the favor whenever he was overly stressed.

My mom said that what would make her extremely happy, would be to see me with Mikey, 10 years later, smiling and with children. I haven't told Mikey that, though. Don't know if I will. Mother also signed me up for Ballet when I was 3, and I am still continuing my lessons en pointe. Mikey gladly takes me to lessons, so long as he watches, and from, often spending the night when our study sessions go on for long hours. But I hated having this discussion with him, where my Father controls everything I do. I know that if my Mother was alive, I would be free to do what I wanted, with my Mother's permission. I first danced ' The Dying Swan' when I was 13, and whenever it was just us, I danced it for her, my Mother, Morgan Ireland. I took my Mother's maiden name in her honor.

I visit her vase residing in her family morgue whenever I can, seeing as it's about 2 towns over. But onto the end of class. I sped out of my seat and to my locker, fumbling with the lock before finally opening it and snatching my Art book. Now if you think I'm overreacting, you may be right, but this is what Mikey and I do when we argue. Mikey was close behind, nearly beside me at the locker, a grim expression on his face. I looked away and headed down to Art. I heard Mikey sigh behind me. ' Sigh all you want, I won't break.' These luckily never go on for more than 2 periods, so either he'll apologize by lunch or the end of the day.

Luckily for me, he caught me by my upper arm and spun me into a empty room. I put on my Pissed-Off face and crossed my arms. Mikey placed his hands in my limp straight hair and sighed. " I'm sorry. You're right, I should stop bringing up your dad and the fact that you're a Pushover." I smacked his temple and smiled. Mikey sure learns quick. He smiled and continued. " Will it help if we make a road trip this weekend to see Mom? I know we haven't been able to go since last month, we could plan the trip on the day your Dad wants you to perform!"

" The cleverness eminates from you Mikey." I smiled and hugged him again as we headed for Art.

Well, I like the idea of this story, but hey, if you don't like it, tell me what not about it in your reviews!