Mirrors Don't Reflect; They Reveal

Chapter 3-It's Not Illegal If You Don't Get Caught

Day one. I now have a man tied to a chair in my basement. Correction. A werewolf.

Frank had struggled a lot. He was thrashing around and screaming and cursing and crying and scratching and clawing and biting, it was crazy how much a human could fight. Well, that's what Gerard thought Frank was. A human. He was wrong, of course. Frank was just as much of a human as Gerard was. Basically not a human at all.

In fact, Frank was a werewolf. That's why he wasn't allowed in Summit. And why vampires weren't allowed in his town, Belleville. Vampires hate werewolves. Werewolves hate vampires. And Frank got caught. Playing his guitar. It was a nice way to go down. Playing a song he called 'Skylines and Turnstiles'. It was a nice song. He didn't make songs for money. He made songs for the fun of it.

But this isn't about Frank. This is about Gerard. He walked to his house, holding a screaming and crying werewolf in one hand, dragging him to his demise. Twigs and leaves crunched under Gerard's feet as he angrily stomped through the forest, past the other houses, apartments, and buildings, and finally, up the stairs to his house. Mikey was still asleep, so that would help Gerard just a little bit. He wanted to do this on his own.

So Gerard aggressively moved Frank in such a way that Gerard could keep his hand over Frank's mouth with one hand, his other hand having a death grip on Frank's wrists. He dragged Frank through the house until eventually, he was led downstairs to a room anybody could recognize. A basement. And, of course, it was the most stereotypical basement ever. It was cold, dark, and gray. Extremely gray.

Gerard didn't let off his grasp on Frank's wrists as he looked around the basement for…something. He knew exactly what he was looking for. He felt like shit. And he knew why. Frank was wearing a cross around his neck. That was the first thing Gerard noticed. He heard the guitar, and snuck up behind Frank, and hesitated. Frank had his eyes closed. The fingers of one hand pressing down on the strings on the guitar, the other fingers holding a guitar pick, strumming over the strings, leaving music notes in its wake.

Frank couldn't see Gerard. But Gerard could see Frank. He was actually mesmerized by the song Frank was playing. His eyes had lingered from the guitar to Frank's neck, where there was a small string around his neck. And on that string was a cross. That's when Gerard had finally noticed how tired and dizzy he felt. He was so absorbed in Frank's guitar playing that he hadn't noticed his growing migraine. He saw the cross, and had almost instantly pieced it together that Frank wasn't a vampire. He was either a human. Or a werewolf.

He'd assumed Frank was a human, since Gerard didn't exactly know what werewolves looked like. But he took Frank anyway. He had pulled a small handkerchief out of his pocket when he heard the guitar playing stop. Gerard looked up just to see that Frank still had his eyes closed. He just stopped playing. He was still breathing, however. Gerard had taken this opportunity to slip the handkerchief over Frank's eyes, tying it around his head to keep it from slipping off.

And now he had Frank in his basement as he looked around for something. He wanted to yank the necklace off Frank's neck and stomp it into the ground until the wooden cross was nothing but small splinters. But he didn't. He wanted to throw Frank against the ground and tell him to shut up. But he didn't. He wanted to scream at Frank for licking Gerard's hand as an attempt to get it off his mouth. But he didn't.

He didn't. He didn't because of Mikey. Mikey was upstairs, asleep in his bed. It was only 8 p.m., anyway. Eventually, however, Frank had managed to bite Gerard's hand, and Gerard quickly withdrew his hand in disgust and pain. But he tried his hardest to keep a straight face. Not like Frank could see him. But it wasn't like the handkerchief was completely solid black. It was still just slightly see-through.

Frank took this opportunity to inhale deeply before screaming at the top of his lungs, but Gerard tackled Frank to the ground and covered his mouth before Frank could even get his lungs full of air. "I swear on my own fucking life," Gerard hissed, "if you do not shut the hell up, I will end your life right here, right now."

That made Frank be quiet. That didn't stop him from moving, however. He pushed and shoved and squirmed and clawed until finally, he pushed Gerard off him, and Frank sat up, panting. He quickly removed the handkerchief, hating having his eyes covered. He didn't like when he couldn't see. He didn't untie the handkerchief. He just quickly slid it off his head.

And that's when Frank's eyes met with Gerard's for the first time. And both of their thoughts were completely different.

Gerard had scowled and snatched the handkerchief from Frank. Frank didn't react. Frank didn't move. Frank didn't look away from the other's eyes. He just breathed heavily, one thought in a loop in his mind.

'How the hell did a hot vampire kidnap me?'

Gerard sighed angrily and got off the floor, brushing himself off and shoving the handkerchief into his pocket. Frank still didn't look away. It was pissing Gerard off. But he didn't say anything. Neither of them said anything, in fact. It was just silence other than Frank's heavy breathing.

Gerard counted the seconds in his head. It was silent for exactly forty-seven seconds before Frank spoke. "...are…are…you going to…kill me?" he asked between pants. Gerard grunted in response. Not a yes. Not a no. He was considering it.

So he tried again. Frank asked again. He cleared his throat, sitting up completely straight as his chest rose and fell in such a manner that it seemed he just ran a marathon. "Are you...going to kill…kill me?" he asked quietly. This time, Gerard closed his eyes, not looking at Frank. "Stop asking that question or I will," he grumbled.

"So…so you won't?" Frank asked hopefully. His eyes lit up as Gerard sighed, nodding. "I will not kill you. If you shut up," he said. Frank grinned and pretended to zip his mouth shut, mimicking the action of turning a key as if to lock his lips together. Gerard sighed, leaning against the table, pressing the palms of his hands against the edge of the table to keep balance.

He turned around, facing Frank. His eyes wandered back to Frank's neck. He frowned. He wanted to pull at that stupid little necklace with the stupid little cross off his stupid little neck so he could stomp it into the ground. It made his head hurt so much.

Frank felt Gerard's eyes on him and he turned to see Gerard staring at his neck. His eyes widened, as he had assumed that Gerard was staring because, well, he was a vampire. Biting peoples' necks and all that jazz. But after he realized Gerard wasn't looking at the middle of his neck, and more where his collarbone and neck met, he finally understood.

Without warning, Frank grabbed at the string around his neck, pulling at it so hard that the string snapped. He looked at Gerard, then at the necklace. It was as if he was reading Gerard's mind. Because one second, he had the necklace in his hands. The next, it was on the ground being crushed into little, itty bitty pieces by the sole of Frank's shoe.

Neither of them knew it yet. But that would be the biggest mistake of Frank's life.