Friday I'm In Love

△ 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 △

"So. . . there's this job" Gerard began, eyeing Frank as he set a pint of beer down in front of the fit woman with blonde hair beside him. Frank kept his expression passive as he wiped the bar down and set his hands down in place. "It's in New York - and I know what you're going to say." he continued warily as his eyes dropped to his glass of whiskey. Shame rose in the pit of his stomach, a fast oncoming flood with no barriers to stop it, and it made his skin crawl. 

New York. It wasn't far, not really, but it meant miles between them. Frank didn't own a car, neither did Gerard, they walked across the city every day to get from their apartment to their jobs. Roommate hunting meant meeting people and meeting people wasn't Frank's forte. They had been further apart - for years they had put states between each other - but it was too soon, they had only just begun to mend the wounds. Stitches needed time; Gerard was about to rip them out.

"Do you want it?" 

Gerard sighed, his palm curling closer around his glass as his fingernails rapped on the sides. "Chances like this. . . they're not easy to come by- I'd be able to get an apartment with heating and finally escape Mrs. Johnston from downstairs."

"FRANK!"

He groaned, sending a sharp glare over to James at the other side of the bar. "We can talk later, right? I'll see you at home." 

Home. He said home. Idiot. Gerard didn't seem to notice as Frank walked away, not that it mattered much. Joe met him at the other end, folding his arms with a knowing smile. Joe wasn't always a dick, only some of the time, but today was not a good day. After having a particularly rowdy Nazi kicking up a fuss and a trio of adamant drunk girls to deal with, Joe was not having the best day ever. Joe gestured towards the back door with a sigh before waving Matt over to cover Frank's end. 

"You can finish now if you want, Matt owes me after that incident with his cousin," Joe said, nodding over to Gerard with a sly smile. Frank stared back in disbelief. "Let's just say. . . a mutual drag acquaintance was told by someone's brother that someone might be moving house and that the advice passed down was for me to give you your sick days because of a certain crush-"

Frank flushed. "Fuck off Trohman."

"Yeah yeah. Take it or leave it, Bilbo, because I need to let Matt know of his sentence before ten."

They walked home in silence, listening as the bustling city wailed and roared. Music jumped from every bar, apartment, and roof as people moved in swarms across the roads trekking the sacred pilgrimage of a Friday night. Buskers sparked flames in the night sky, the soft buzzing of guitar strings on worn fingertips and hoarse voices under cold bridges. Lights of every color became fireflies on the night sky, distant cousins to the stars above, as the weekend roared to life. Groups of kids clad in clothes and makeup stolen from older siblings hobbled through the streets with gleeful jeers and arms thrown around shoulders to form barricades. Barbacks and waiters slipped through the alleys carrying crates, muscles aching and joins groaning, as the doors drifted open allowing glimpses of people's first real gigs. Wide eyes and brilliant smiles gazed up at small town rockstars with second-hand equipment in crowded bars stinking of beer and sweat. Commuters hurried home through the subway, earplugs close as if they were shields to protect the wearer of the world, with downcast eyes and numb fingertips. Girls huddled together in groups, sharing warmth as they plugged numbers into cellphones and made promises for the next time they were in the city, as musical laugher drifted from their lips as if it were cigarette smoke on a cool dark night. Secret lovers ran across rooftops, hands clasped as they declared their love for all to hear. 

Two men shared silence as emotions brewed in the cauldrons of their stomachs with angry spews of neon smoke and the distant cackling of an evil witch. They kept close, navigating the amber-lit streets by memory rather than consciousness as their minds drifted elsewhere to happier times and summers long past. The bitter smell of freshly cut lawn and seawater arose from the mist, the blinding sunlight casting a searing haze across his eyes. The gentle brush of icy fingertips on Frank's wrist grounded him, the short nails grazed against the fragile skin as drops of water pattered down. The grass beneath him prickled through the towel and shirt protecting his skin as he sank into the ground. The gentle nudge of his foot earned him a sigh from Frank's lips, his tongue running over the torn skin as birds soared past overhead. His heart pounded on the bars of his ribcage, screaming to be let free as a burning hot blush rose to his neck and onto his cheeks. 

"Mom called the counselor," Gerard said, his voice trembling dangerously as Frank turned to face him. Gerard faced the sky, his dark eyelashes set against his skin as silent tears slipped down the sides of his face. His fingertips circled Frank's wrist in slow circles like vinyl on a tape deck, his pulse thrumming under his skin. He looked like those paintings of angels, an ivory statue laid to rest amongst the wildflowers, even as his heart began to break. "Elena. . . she died this morning. Mom said- she said it was in her sleep and that she wasn't in pain." he whimpered, his chest stammering as a choked sob racked his body. Gerard opened his eyes with a sharp breath as he turned to face Frank, resting his head on the back of his hand. "I don't wanna go home, Frankie."

"I know, me neither, but you can run away with me any time you want." Frank offered with a bleak smile and a small pebble which he had taken from the lake out of spite for its cold and murky waters which he had been shoved in. "And we can eat instant ramen and popcorn for forever and watch Batman and X-Men." he continued hopefully as Gerard took the pebble in his hand and squeezed it tight against his chest. "And we can go to concerts! And rewatch The Shinning as many times as you like."

"And listen to music so loud that our ears will shrivel up?"

"Yeah!"

Gerard threw an arm out in front of him, dragging Frank out of his daydream by the scruff of his neck. An asshole on a motorbike raced past as a wall of air seared their faces off. Frank turned to him with wide eyes and a resting heart rate of 10,000 as the high of almost being mown down by a delinquent on a shit bike slowly fell. Gerard's fingers appeared in front of his eyes, snapping annoyingly with an aghast expression. He didn't seem to care all that much as Frank blinked away the remains of his haze and swatted his hand away from his face. Gerard looked more like himself than he ever had in high school, no more was a clumsy ashamed kid with an awful haircut and a rotation of three black Batman shirts. He stood taller, even wrapped in enough scarves to make Repunzel jealous, his eyes bright with the only obvious teller of time being the deep bags that wore heavy under his eyes and the callouses that carved valleys across his palms. 

"Jesus Frank are you trying to get run over!" he sighed, rubbing at his face with both of his palms in a shocking imitation of Frank's mother. 

"'m sorry," Frank mumbled. "got distracted. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Let's just get home alive, okay?"