MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE ONESHOTS

starving artist

(i rewrote it [more like deleted a third of the story])

Frank was sitting at his usual bench. He'd already eaten breakfast (a cheap, sad croissant somebody had spared him at the coffee shop) and uncased his guitar. He checked the tuning, turning the pegs and hoping the strings were making the correct noises. He didn't have a cool, expensive tuner, so he did it all by ear. He strummed the strings tentatively, and when they made a satisfying harmony, he started to play a little tune.

He'd never heard the song before; he made it up as he went. A few people passed by and slipped a few coins into the rusty can he'd set out in front of the bench. Some people stopped in their tracks, watching him play with grins on their faces. This encouraged Frank to do some complicated chords (which he nailed), and one person even whistled. He finished his improvisational song by strumming the last chord quickly and then held the strings down with the palm of his hand to stop his guitar from vibrating. A few people cheered, dropping some cash into the can and then continued on with their day.

He only just started to play another song when some jerk teenager came over and kicked the can over, grinning at him stupidly. He ran away and high-fived one of his dumb friends. Frank looked down angrily at the can and lifted his guitar strap over his head. He set the guitar aside as he collected the money back into the can.

"Who do you think you are, huh?" Frank hollered at the kids. But they had already run away.

Frank sighed. He knew he wasn't going to go anywhere with this, and he might as well get some boring desk job. It wasn't likely anyone would hire him, though. He really was a hopeless case.

That's when a stranger walked up. He should've been normal for Frank, just like the rest of them, but instead of kicking the can over again or maybe requesting a song, the stranger held out his hand. Frank looked up at the stranger. In his hand was a few hundred dollar bills. Frank's eyes widened.

"Is... is that for me?" Frank asked cautiously.

The stranger laughed, showing their tiny teeth, and nodded. "Yeah, who else?"

Frank carefully took the money from the stranger's hand, wondering if this was just some sick prank. Maybe it was Monopoly money or something. He checked. It wasn't. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked up again. The stranger just smiled, his hands in his hoodie pockets. He stuck a hand out for Frank to shake.

"I'm Gerard," the person said.

Frank stared at him awkwardly before taking his hand and bouncing it twice. "Frank," he replied.

"So could you play me a song?" Gerard asked, tilting his head. His eyes were warm and welcoming. Frank wanted to slap himself for staring so much, and so awkwardly. He also wanted to kick himself, because obviously if a person gives a musician hundreds of dollars, the logical thing to do would be to start playing something for them. That's sort of in the job description.

Frank nodded quickly, smiling widely. "Oh, yeah, yeah, of course!"

He grabbed his guitar from beside him and hung the strap around his neck. He grabbed the neck of the guitar sat back up on the bench instead of his uncomfortable seat on the floor.

"Any requests?" Frank asked.

Gerard shook his head. "Just play whatever."

Frank nodded once and began to strum out a D chord, then a F sharp minor. He repeated that one more time and then added a G, a G minor, another D, and an A. He followed that pattern, only changing the order every once in a while. He tried to show off all the tricky techniques he knew as he played, wanting the song to be worth the hundreds of dollars he'd received.

When he finished, Gerard smile was even bigger. A small crowd had formed around him, so when Gerard started to clap, so did the rest of the crowd. One person in the back even whistled. Frank beamed and bowed his head a little.

They made it a point to come back to that spot on their first date a year later.

(yeah i got lazy)