The Florence Theory ☆ FRERARD

Chapter 2

How many things have been lost to time? Surely, there must have existed thousands of languages and millions of people, but they have been forgotten over time. How long would it take for me to be forgotten to time? What if no one remembers me in the next fifty years, or heck, even the next twenty? Are humans really that insignificant?

"Gerard's a nifty guy. You're lucky to know him," the cab driver told Frank, turning into a street that glowed lively with twinkling street lights.

"You know him?" Frank asked, resting his head in his palm while gazing at the passing scenery of concrete and glass.

"Everyone knows him. He's a little awkward when you first meet him, but after that initial period, he can hold up a great conversation. It seems like he has connections everywhere," the driver spoke, occasionally glancing at Frank in the mirror. "Anyways, we're here. Would you like me to wait until you find him?"

Frank unbuckled his seatbelt. "Yeah, that'll be great. Thank you." He stepped out of the car and glanced around him, looking for that familiar face of Gerard's. A part of Frank was also curious if he was still wearing those leather gloves. He was sure he'd have his questions answered eventually.

"See him?" the man in the car asked, pulling down his window and sticking his head out of the car.

"Hm. No, not yet. Maybe we're too early." Frank bit his lip in thought and then spotted Gerard talking to a lady wearing an elegant black dress. "Oh! There he is."

Gerard turned his head and looked directly at Frank, and then his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He waved goodbye to the woman and headed outside towards Frank.

"I'm so glad you could make it," he greeted, pulling Frank into his arms and giving him an embrace that lasted a little longer than Frank expected. "Did you get here okay? Good cab?"

"Yeah, it was excellent. The driver was awesome too," Frank complimented, glancing appreciatively back to the middle-aged man in the car.

"Good, good," Gerard stated, handing the driver a fifty-dollar note. "Keep the change."

"Wow! Thanks, Gerard." He grinned and then waved at him and Frank before taking off.

"You know, you didn't have to order me a cab." Frank smiled, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

"Oh, Frankie," Gerard started, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I expect the best, so I don't give anything less than." He winked at Frank and then gazed thoughtfully away from him. Gerard wore a tasteful black suit consisting of an ironed white dress shirt, a bow tie and a blazer that matched the colour of his hair, reaching his neck in fluffy wavy strands. "Speaking of which, I have something for you."

Frank glanced down at Gerard's gloved hands and noticed a box with a navy blue bow stuck to the top of the white and silver wrapping paper. "Oh, Gerard, you didn't need to buy me anything." Frank chuckled.

"Oh, come on. Just open it. I know you'll love it," Gerard insisted, handing Frank the box and stepping back a little, gazing at Frank in anticipation.

Frank gave a shy grin and then pulled off the wrapping paper, revealing a brown box. "Wow, thank you for the box."

Gerard laughed. "You're welcome. Now why not take a look at what's inside the box?"

Frank opened the box and was greeted with a copy of The Catcher In The Rye signed by J.D Salinger, the author. He stared at it with wide eyes and then threw his gaze back to Gerard who was wearing a satisfied yet meek expression. "Oh, my God. Where on Earth did you find this?" Frank asked, almost out of breath from shock.