Honey, who's your teacher?
"Bye, Hayley!" My Friend waves, she was the last to be picked up; besides me. I wave too, and utter a small "bye" in return. After she was long out the school doors, I lean against a poster cover wall. My mother dearest was late picking me up from chorus practice, and worst part was this wasn't even a normal practice. First off it was on a Friday, when our are usually on Wednesday . Second, it was held at a different school which I'd never visited before now, so I don't even have luxury of knowing where the bathrooms are. This brings us to next topic; I really have to pee.
In an act of frustration, I toss my folder on the floor and walk down the hallway leading to the left. Frantically, I look at doors searching for the telltale "Girls'" sign. No luck. Time to turn down another hallway, this one was walled with bumble-bee yellow lockers. From were I stood I could tell this passage was a dead end. I spin around, seeking a different hallway to check next. Quickly, I realize nothing looks familiar. Concluding that I am, officially, unfortunately, and depressingly; lost.
"Fudge basked!" I mock swear aloud, crossing my arms.
"Where?" Asks an unfamiliar voice. Looking around I spot a short man, dressed business casual, and sporting what looked like the start of a tattoo on his neck.
"Who are you?" I ask defensively.
"The music teacher, and you?" He says calmly.
"Hayley." I say simply, unfolding my arms.
"Oh, are you a new student? My name is Mr. Iero. Let me show you around!" He says enthusiastically.
"Actually-." I start, but Mr. Iero is to busy talking about the school to listen me.
"You must see the science wing! Then of course the English room, and the computer lab might still be open. Also, the art studio was just redone…" He rambles, I just nod, hopping we pass a bathroom during the grand tour. Mr. Iero ushers me to new hallway, and pushes me into a giant room filled with white tables and sinks attached. Science room; I'm guessing. Soon enough I notice another person in the room with us. Mr. Iero seems to recognize him.
"Ah, Ray- uh, I mean Mr. Toro! Meet the new student, I'm showing her around." Mr. Iero says.
"I'm not a new-." I try to explain, but again I'm interrupted.
"What's your name?" Mr. Toro asks. I notice his hair is extremely puffy, like a cloud or kitten. With this fluffy realization, I decide to play along. At least it gives me something to do until my mom shows up.
"Hayley Williams." I say giving him a sweet smile.
"What a pretty name!" He says, stretching out a hand for me to shake; I oblige.
"Which grade are you going into next year, Hayley?" He asks.
"Ninth." I say.
"Ok, well, I think we should continue with our tour now." Mr. Iero says, scratching the back of his neck. I nod and follow him out the door; we both say "goodbye" On the way out.
"Now, to the English department!" He cheers, steering me by the shoulders through two more hallways and up a flight of stairs. Finally, we reach a door. I'm panting and out of breath, yet Mr. Iero seems fine. He gave a few short few knocks on the door, before opening it.
"Gee, er, um, Mr. Way?" He inquires, poking his head in the door.
"Yes?" someone says, presumably Mr. Way, or Gee. Mr. Iero opens the door wider letting me in. He follows behind me.
"This is a new student, I showing her the school. Would you like to explain to her the wonderful world of English while I make a quick phone call?" Mr. Iero pleads to the man sitting behind the big corner desk. He had bright red hair, much like my own, and had a book open in front of him.
"No problem, Frank!" He says cheerily. Mr. Iero gives him an exasperated expression, He then hisses. "No first names!" Mr. Way just rolls his eyes and shoos the other man out of the room.
"Hello, what's your name?" He says.
"Hayley Williams" I say, for the third freaking time today.
"Are you going into ninth grade?" He asks. I nod eagerly, happy to not have to answer another repeated question.
"Who do you have for home room?" He asks. Well, here's a new question.
"Uhhh, I haven't heard yet." I say, hoping to not get caught.
"That's weird usually they'll send it to you in the mail." He says. Rearranging some of the books on his desk. I just give a small nod. Then from the corner of my eye I notice a picture of a little girl.
"Who is that?" I ask consumed with curiosity, leaning closer to the photograph.
"That's my daughter, Bandit, she's 10, and this is my wife, Lindsey." He says pointing to another picture, it depicted a woman who looked to be about 25, wearing a school uniform of some kind and holding a bass guitar.
"Is she in a band?" I ask, a little excited; I might have heard of it if she is.
"Yes, she is, I used to be too." His face grew pink with embarrassment. I take a seat next to his desk, like a little kid waiting for story time.
"Tell me what it was like." I say.
"Sure." He nods, leaning back in his chair. Secretly I want to be in a famous band some day; though it seems so unrealistic.
Mr. Way tells me his story, how he was inspired by a smashing pumpkins concert, how 9/11 led him to forming a band, then he gave a summery of how awesome touring was. The sweetest bit was of course how he met his wife on tour. The last part almost brought me to tears; he explained the terrible fall of My Chemical Romance, alcoholism and drugs ripped the band off the charts.
"That's terrible!" I gasp.
"Yup." Says Mr. Iero. I hadn't even noticed his return, I was so engulfed in the story.
"Wait, you were both in the band?" I ask looking from one man to the other.
"Yes, and so is Mr. Toro, Mr. Bryar and, my brother, the other Mr. Way." Mr. Way says, picking up a mug of coffee that seemed to materialize out of thin air. I was speechless for a second.
"When do I get to meet them?"
XxXxX
Mr. Iero had gathered the other members of My Chemical Romance in the computer lab. Of course I found a restroom on the way, now I can talk to them without my bladder distracting me. We were sitting at a blue semi-circle table. They made up all of one side, I sat at the other. In our group there were a few new faces, one man was tall with glasses, and anther who had ginger hair and a lip ring.
"How do you get famous?" I ask in one rushed breath. The men all look at each other, sharing smiles.
"Well, there is no right way, but the best method is to not sell out. Stay true to the band." Mr. Iero says.
"Oh, and don't take anyone's bullshit!" chimed in Mr. Bryar.
"Also, don't be afraid to do anything, and take care of your vocals; as it turns out they're fragile." Mr. Way says, putting a few fingers to his adams apple.
"Have purpose, and a fucking awesome name." Says the other Mr. Way, this is the first time I've heard him speak.
"What is more important, selling albums or selling out shows?" I ask, looking around the middle age faces.
"Shows." They all say in unison, and then there are a few seconds of awkward laughing. I nod; confused.
"Who should I kiss up to at the record company?" I ask.
"Who ever does the recording with you, because they generally are the ones to report back to the label." Mr. Way, with the red hair, says. I nod, this is all really useful information. A strange crackling noise starts, I quickly realize it's the announcement system.
"Hayley Williams, please report to the front lobby. Your mother is waiting." Says the office lady over the intercom, I groan, why does she show up now? I'm learning so much!
"Do you need someone to show you the way?" Asks Mr. Iero.
"Yes, that would be very helpful." I say, getting out of my chair and sulking out the door behind Mr. Iero. I wave to the other men; they wave back and smile.
After a few minutes of walking, we reach the lobby where my mother is standing and holding my abandoned folder.
"Hi, sweetie!" Says my mother, I give a small grunt of recognition. I wave goodbye to Mr. Iero as my mother leads me out the door.
"One of the Farro's boys called today, you know them right? He was asking if you wanted to join a band, I told him you would. I hope you don't mind." She say smiling. My face lights up; suddenly I don't mind leaving.
"Really?" I squeal, She nods.
"Can I call them back when I get home? This is so exciting!" I shout. Racing to the car. Maybe I would get my chance in the spotlight; someday.
Authors note: thank you for reading, this story was inspired by an encounter I had at chorus practice. It was also at a different school, and the band director was there, so when I was waiting to be picked up we talked for a little bit. About halfway through our conversation, I realized he looked exactly like Frank Iero 20 years from now; it was weird.