Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

Destroya

The group of troubled teens had assembled around the same bench in roughly the same positions as last week. The same big-nosed, balding man sat in the middle of it, clipboard in hand.

Frank, upon entering, had stomped as far away from the rest of them as he could get. He'd taken up residence in the far corner, arms crossed and scowling at the others.

Shit Frankie, why do you have to be like this? I don't want to cause a scene again...

Gerard followed sheepishly, catching the eye of the older man as he passed. He raised an eyebrow expectantly at Gerard who immediately looked away, using his hair as a shield.

He could feel the eyes on him as he shuffled towards Frank.
He made it halfway before he became too anxious to continue and slumped down into the nearest available spot, turning his back to Frank and slouching to rest his head on his arms at the table next to the main group.

The therapist clapped his hands, signalling the start of the session, and Frank heaved an aggressive sigh from across the room that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Slowly the attention slid from Gerard back to the old man who'd begun his rounds of 'one interesting thing that happened this week' at the main table.

Group is so stupid, why are we even here. What a waste of time. Like any of us care what you did this week.

Behind him he heard Frank shuffling around, but resisted the urge to look.

If I look at him, and he's mad at me, it'll just cause a scene. He can stay back there and pout if he wants to. I'll just deal with it later.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as the bench he was seated on vibrated suddenly. Whipping his head around to locate the source, he was surprised to see Frank sliding onto the seat next to him.
He'd knocked his shoe against it as he clambered over, and nodded curtly at Gerard when their eyes met.

Startled by Frank's sudden appearance he started to speak, but was cut off by the therapist leaning back in his seat to talk to them.

"How about you boys? What's one interesting thing that happened this week in your life?"

Frank cleared his throat.

Oh fuck, here we go. Should I stop him if he gets out of hand again? Is it better or worse if he fights me instead of that guy?

"Well I heard from my case worker," Frank began, staring down at his clasped hands on the table. "and she said the group home'll take me back, so I guess I'm not officially homeless yet." There was a tremor in his voice as he spoke. He must've noticed it, because halfway through his sentence he switched to angrily hissing the words through clenched teeth.

"Sounds like good news to me! The therapist boomed. "How do you feel about that?"

Frank's knuckles were white from the force he was exerting. There were dark red crescents blooming on his skin where his jagged nails threatened to pierce it.

He's gonna hurt himself if he keeps that up... he's been doing really good today...

Gerard slid his hand over to rest on Frank's arm, squeezing gently in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

"It's fine." Frank growled in response. "I hate that place and I hate those people, but I've got nowhere else to go so it's whatever."

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, jotting a note on his clipboard before shifting his attention.
"How about you Gerard? What's gone on this week?"