POISON

city lights

Not that Gerard didn't do normal things like shopping, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gone without the intention of buying to add to his collection of outfits for his job.

Upon ransacking his wardrobe, he realised it had been a while since he'd worn something considered normal. Continually dressing a certain way had distorted his perception of what was acceptable to wear in social situations; the kind of social situations he'd grown accustomed to involved flirting for the sake of money.

Gerard was stood in the middle of his room, surrounded by clothes that he'd laid out on the floor, barely able to see the carpet anymore. It had gotten a little overwhelming, and he knew that was up to the state he'd worked himself into by overthinking everything.

As well as for going out with Jamia tonight, he'd tried to find something to wear to meet Frank's parents, and it hadn't gone too well, so he'd ended up calling Shannon, who'd sounded happy to hear from him. Nearly a week had passed since their last conversation; he'd felt a bit guilty for not calling sooner, but he'd been busy with clients.

"Poison, hey!" Shannon could easily recognise his voice; he hadn't even needed to introduce himself. "Usually, when a girl gives a guy her number, he never calls."

"That's only 'cause most guys can be real cunts. Lucky for you, honey, I'm not one... Not in that way, anyway." He balanced the phone between his shoulder and cheek as he began hanging some of the clothes back up in his wardrobe. "Quick question, I'm meeting my boyfriend's parents soon, like, in a few days kinda soon. D'you have any advice?"

"That's not a quick question." She laughed shortly. "How much time do you have?"

"Not a lot, I'm going out in a minute. I'm already late – but, jeez, I didn't think it took me this long to decide what to wear." He chewed on his bottom lip, looking around at the mess he'd made. Jamia had rang twenty minutes ago saying she was on her way to pick him up – she'd offered since he didn't have a car and his apartment was on the way into the city from hers.

"Alright, well, I can meet up with you later if you're free? I don't have to pay for that, do I?" she teased, and honestly that thought hadn't even entered his mind.

"Uh, no, 'course not." Forgetting about the phone, Gerard stood up straight, and it slid off his shoulder to the floor. He sighed, picking it up. "I'm going out with a friend tonight, I'll have to ask her if she'd be okay with you coming too, but I'm sure it'll be fine."

"No problem. Text me the details, 'kay?"

"You got it." They hung up and he chucked his phone onto the bed, running his fingers through his hair as he glanced at himself in the mirror hung on the back of the bedroom door.

At the moment, he was wearing shorts and a cropped shirt, which he quickly swapped out for the new outfit he'd put together: ripped skinny jeans, a studded belt with chains hanging from it, platform boots, a loose grey sleeveless shirt with the arm holes cut down to the seams, accompanied by a black choker, and the red leather jacket.

Just as he grabbed his wallet and his keys, there was a knock on the front door. Gerard downed the rest of the coffee he'd made hours ago, then rushed to answer.

It was Jamia, wearing a black shirt, corduroy jacket, jeans, and silver rings. "Hey, you ready?"

"Literally only just." He stepped out and shut the door before she could see the state of his apartment. "Is it alright if a new friend of mine meets us later?"

"Yeah, 'course." Not having known Gerard as one to keep friends outside of work, she was a bit confused, but was always up for meeting new people. "What's their name?"