The Florence Theory ☆ FRERARD

Chapter 4

Do we, as humans, have a right to happiness, or is it something that is fought for? Of course, the ideal life is to have all that you want, and then you'll achieve happiness, but what if happiness is more than a good family, or enough money? Why do some people seem so happy while others are so miserable? Could happiness just be a souvenir that people display to gain validation, or maybe to even gain real happiness, if that even exists?

"Surprise!" Gerard exclaimed in a monotone voice which came off as sarcasm, throwing his arms in the air and furnishing an excited expression. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

Frank looked up from the pavements to see Gerard leaning against the wall with a knee propped up against the surface, wearing black jeans, leather boots and a long-sleeved black 'Palaye Royale' shirt, as well as a pair of sunglasses. He looked like a completely different person when he wasn't dressed formally. Perhaps it was his clothes that made him seem older. "What are you doing here?" Frank asked, wondering why he was waiting for Frank outside his college unannounced.

Gerard chuckled. "Good one." He hung an arm over Frank for a moment before removing it, ready to start walking. "Let's get going now, yeah?"

"What?" Frank asked, staring at Gerard in question. "Where are we going?"

The smile on Gerard's face seemed to fade away like rain on the pavement as soon as the Sun came out. "You forgot about our date?"

"Oh. It's Thursday. No, I didn't forget—I thought it was Wednesday," Frank cleared up with a tender smile, wondering how he could forget about something that had been on his mind for days.

"Oh," Gerard stated in a hushed tone, and then his lips curled into a smile. "That's fine. Happens to everyone every now and then," he said, pulling his car keys from his pocket and unlocking his Mercedes.

Frank followed Gerard into his car and a moment later, they were on their way to their date destination.

"What flavour are you gonna get?" Gerard asked, turning off their current street and entering one of the busier roads.

"Um...I don't know, maybe cookies and cream." Frank shrugged, tweedling with the fabric of his backpack that now sat at his feet on the floor of the car.

"Something on your mind?" Gerard asked, initially noticing something off with Frank.

"Just tired from today," Frank filled in vaguely, leaning his head against the glass window.

Gerard placed a gloved hand on Frank's thigh. "That's what everyone says. What's really wrong?" he pushed, looking at Frank more than he was looking at the road ahead of him.

"Just sick of college, you know? I try hard every day, and I still fail." Frank sighed and now moved to pick at the loose fabric of his ripped blue jeans. But then a glossy card of white and black on the dashboard captured his attention. "What's this?"

"Invitation. I found it on the hood of my car just before I came to pick you up. It's for an art showcase." Gerard picked up the card and briefly inspected it again. "I'm not going though because it's obviously fake. I went to this exact yearly showcase two months ago."

"Hmm," Frank hummed, "I wonder who put it there. They obviously want to see you."

"Or maybe they just want to exhibit art," he said, laughing. "Anyways, talk to me about college. What's so wrong with it?"

"Well, I had to write an essay on this book, and I thought I did really great. I did everything I needed to and...I failed." Frank pressed his lips together.

"What did you get?" Gerard asked.

"Forty percent."

"Which book?"