// Okay, this is still in Gerard's point of view. I'm sorry I haven't been updating much, no motivation really. I suggest reading this chapter kinda slowly, it just sounds better if you do.Anyway, I hope the tension doesn't kill you. //
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Bob Byrar was standing outside my door. I nearly fainted. He had found me after all these years, five to be exact. He looked the same as he always did, hair long, tangled strands of horror. He had gotten a lip ring since my last encounter with him. His nose was still crooked beyond repair, it made him look like someone who snorted pounds of cocaine, which he did. At least he did five years ago.
"Bob... I uh, uh-"
"I see you weren't expecting me Way. I've been scouting you out since a week before the phone call. I followed you and your boyfriend here from the library. You should be more cautious you know?" He smirked that evil, child eating smirk of his.
"I wouldn't have to be cautious if you'd leave me the fuck alone. And he isn't my boyfriend." I added the last part in quietly.
"Yeah whatever, anyways, you've got some explaining to do..." He pushed his way inside my house and sat down harshly on my couch. His dirty ass, which probably hadn't been cleaned in ages, was on my couch. I shuddered.
"I don't have anything to explain, will you please fuck off before I call the police?" He stood up.
"You do to have explaining to do. Why did you run off? Why the fuck did you take part in the crime but not the punishment Way? WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LET ME GET IMPRISONED WHILE YOUR DUMB ASS GOT TO GO FREE?" He had moved close to me, fist raised in boiling anger. I could smell the tuna fish on his breath.
"I'm calling the cops." That was the only thing I could respond with. I hadn't committed any crime, he was the dumbass who tried to sell cocaine to a fourteen year old. I had only been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
At least that's what I tell myself.
"Call them." His anger was gone, it was now replaced by a murderous tone. "I'm leaving anyway, not out of town, just back to my motel. I'll be back, but you won't know when." With a smirk plastered on his hideous face, he left in a rage of maniacal laugher.
-
As you can imagine, I didn't sleep well at all. I kept thinking about my past and every mistake I'd ever made. Meeting Bob was one of them, calling Bob a friend was the biggest. But that didn't matter, Bob wasn't going to fuck with me anymore, I had Frank. I had a date with Frank today. Nothing could bring me down in this moment.
It was only 8:00am and Frank probably wasn't even at work yet. I had plenty of time until 12:00pm, Frank's lunch hour. I was going to go and talk with him then, then we'd meet again at 5:30pm. Four hours was an awfully long time to do nothing. I guess by doing nothing, I was actually doing something. I decided to make the nothing useful by painting. I normally don't like to paint, I'm more of a sketcher, but I felt painting was better for releasing your emotions. You could mix and create thousands of shades to describe your mood.
I got up and put on some fading, monstrously hideous jeans. The color alone was enough to make me vomit; baby shit yellow. The fabric was like straw, itchy and horrible. I owned these pants for painting purposes only but sometimes I still wandered if it was worth it.
I decided to paint in three colors only; black, red, and green. I liked to challenge myself to paint something meaningful using as few colors as possible. It usually never worked in honesty, but this time it would for I was painting Frank.
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Paper Kingdom
Fanfiction17 year old Frank sits at a table, strumming his guitar. His loser of a father comes home in a rage of yells, Frank promises himself he'll do something with his life in that moment. 6 years later and Frank is nothing and he has nothing, his life is...
