Graffiti Heart (Frerard)

Ch.2 - Frank's Lying Skills, As In Both 'Lie' and 'Lay'

Chapter 2

"Is that paint on your finger, dude?" Nathan said, attempting to grab Frank's forefinger, which was undoubtedly stained from pressing the spray can, fucking shit took years to wash off.

Frank pulled his finger back on reflex, and Nathan stared at him with his brow furrowed. Shit, he had to come up with an excuse, and quick. Although Nathan was his friend, he couldn't know Frank tagged— well, couldn't is a strong word, more like Frank really didn't feel like telling him.

He liked that tagging was like his secret, a secret he only shared with Octavia and Pencil, and himself.

When Frank still wasn't answering, Nathan pushed, "Your whole shirt is stained with green,"

"Uh, yeah, I was finishing an art project the other day, stained myself," Frank shrugged, hoping it would be enough, and then filling his mouth with a huge turkey sandwich bite, as if to avoid further talking.

"Is that why you look like you haven't slept in forty years?"

Perfect excuse, thank you, Nathan. Frank nodded, "Yeah, it was like real last minute, so I finished it at like six in the morning and didn't even have time to sleep, that's why these are the same clothes as yesterday," He motioned to his outfit, and Nathan seemed satisfied with the answer, digging into his own plate of spaghetti.

It wasn't like Frank didn't like Nathan; they wouldn't be friends if that was the case. Actually, Frank didn't necessarily have a group of friends; he just kinda had well-known people all around school, so he had someone to talk in like every class and not feel like a complete loser.

Nathan was the one he talked to the most, him and his girlfriend, Delilah, and he often sat with them in lunch, like right then. Although Delilah hadn't bothered showing up to school, so it was just him and Nathan.

So yeah, Frank's only real friends didn't go to his school, and they were only two. As for the kids at school, Frank only talked to them in there, in classes, as soon as he stepped foot outside of the lot, he really didn't feel like chatting to any of them.

He didn't think he was superior or that they were idiots or anything like that, he enjoyed their company at school, but that was it... Just at school.

If he ran into someone outside the building, of course he'd go say hi, he wasn't a douche, but he honestly preferred not to have any contact with any of them, even if his mom called him anti-social. He was fine with it, really. Despite not having many actual friends, Frank was still deathly scared of any of the people at his school finding out he tagged.

Because that would lead to parents finding out, and the school finding out, and his own parents finding out, and the answer to that equation meant nothing good.

Perhaps that's why Frank kept mostly to himself outside school besides his two friends. He loved tagging, and it wasn't easy to not blurt it out, because he was good at it too, and he wanted to brag, he wanted to tell Nathan 'Hey, you know that fucking tank with a skeleton in it at the Highglass Building? Yeah, guess who did it, motherfucker. Me'; have everyone in his school in awe, and he wanted to be called 'Frank the Tagger', he wanted to be called a 'Banksy wannabe'.

Because if it meant people would recognize his art, he'd do it.

But then again, his mom, the cops, all the shit unknown taggers had to deal with day to day. He couldn't just confess that he was the maker of most of the street art in the city.

Besides, if he spoke up, people would know Pencil and Octavia were in it too, and she would most likely go to jail, because she was nineteen –a legal adult- and tagging was considered a crime. If Octavia went to jail, Frank would no longer have half-the-price tattoos, duh.