Blood Stains

This City Is Stupid

What a prick

That's what Gerard thinks as he listens to the man in front of him in line yell at the barista; all because she didn't put enough fucking sugar. Gerard shakes his head and sighs, knowing now the guy will make her remake the entire drink. Gerard can't stand people like that. I mean, Gerard is no saint, but he's fairly close. Gerard knows he's above yelling about coffee. After another 10 minutes the guy has his coffee and leaves. Gerard steps up to the counter and sees that the barista's eyes are slightly watered.

"What can I get for you?" She asks in a shaky voice.

"I need an iced coffee with lots of cream and a little sugar."

"Okay, can I get a name?"

"Gerard."

"Okay, that'll be 4.56- I mean 4.59 s-sorry."

"Hey, sweetie, it's okay." Gerard says with a small smile, holding out a ten.

She smiles slightly and takes the ten, grabbing the change. She holds the few dollars and change out for Gerard, but he simply shakes his head no. Her eyes widen and she mumbles out a small thank you. Gerard just waves her off and walks over to the pickup counter. He stands with his shoulders slumped and his back slightly hunched. He knows he shouldn't be standing in such a way, but too many things are going through his mind to worry about it. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his black coat, not looking forward to what is going to come after he leaves the coffee shop.

"Gerard!"

The yelling of Gerards name breaks him from his thoughts and makes him immediately turn around and see his coffee being held out by a male barista. Gerard gives him a nod and grabs his coffee. He immediately walks out into the gloominess of Belleville, New Jersey that has been waiting for him ever since he entered that coffee shop. Gerard takes a sip of his coffee, making him wince. She forgot the sugar. Oh well, guess it wasn't her day

He begins walking along the sidewalk, feeling the nervousness in his stomach become even more difficult to ignore the closer he gets to the dreaded place he's headed. He wouldn't be that nervous if he didn't know what was coming. He is meeting with a guy to help him with his next job. He knows who it is but doesn't know his name or anything about him for that matter. All Gerard knows is what he looks like and the restaurant they are supposed to meet at.

Gerard looks out over the gloomy city. He observes the people walking in every direction, but looking like they have no place to go. He hates this city but loves it at the same time. One thing he does love about it is the fucking stupidity. The cops here are so dumb, it takes them 6 weeks to catch someone knocking off convenient stores.

Gerard arrives at the restaurant and throws away his almost empty coffee cup into a trashcan outside of the door. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head quickly, trying to shake the nerves off. He pushes open the door and walks past the host. He walks towards all the tables and see's the guy he is supposed to meet. He looks exactly how he was describes to Gerard; a messy black and red fohawk, a lip ring, a nose ring, painted black nails, jeans , a black coat, and a cigarette hanging from his lips. The sight of that cigarette makes Gerard crave one even more than he already is. He walks up to the table and sits down without a word.

"Ah, finally my date has arrived." The guy says with a smirk on his lips.

"This is not a date." Gerard retorts, slight annoyance in his voice.

"Whatever you say babe."

"Don't call me babe."

"...Then what shall I call you?" He says with a sigh

"......Gerard."

"Well, Gerard, I'm Frank."

"Frank...."

"Yep. I'm Frank. And I kill bad people." Frank says casually, as if it's the same as a desk job or selling cars.

"....I know."

"And I know you do too."

Gerard looks up and sees that same fucking smirk smeared across his face.

What a prick.