Crimson And Clover

3

It was too early for this shit.

It was only 10:30 and Frank was already dealing with the same girl from yesterday. Candace, or whatever her name was, was complaining in her high-pitched nasal voice that her coffee was cold, her scone wasn't toasted enough, blah, blah, blah, et cetera. At that moment, she was complaining about her cheese roll.

"It's too cheesy. It's cold. It's weird."

Frank sighed. "Look. If you're not happy with the service, then please leave."

The girl stood up incredulously, picking her handbag up and storming off without paying for any of her food. Frank just sighed. Why did some customers have to be so difficult?

He heard a soft chuckle from table 19 and looked over to see Gerard, who was stirring a coffee with a spoon.

"Having lady trouble, huh?" The boy chuckled and Frank nodded, sighing dramatically.

"They're always like this." Frank groaned. "Especially her. But Grandma and Grandpa don't have the heart to ban her." He ran a hand through his greasy hair, sighing quietly and shaking his head.

"It's probably because she likes you." Gerard chuckled. Frank rolled his eyes, smiling, watching as Gerard absentmindedly served the coffee. Wow. He definitely had artist hands, with long, pale, slender fingers that Frank could definitely picture holding a paintbrush or pencil or something.

"God help her if she does. She's not my type." He chuckled, trying to distract himself for a moment.

"What is your type?" Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly in what Frank determined was an inquisitive way.

"Hmm...I'm not really sure." Frank shrugged, twiddling his fingers and looking down at his tattooed knuckles. "...But definitely not her. She's got more tits than sense." He laughed a little, rolling his eyes when he saw a flock of teen girls head to the counter.
"I gotta go, dude. See you around?" He smiled and Gerard nodded.
"See ya, and good luck."

Frank sighed as he stepped behind the counter and the girls practically swarmed in.
"So that's three skinny lattes, four donuts and a jam roll?" He sighed, ringing up the order and handing it to Lindsey as the girls charged to a table. He looked over at Gerard, who was engrossed in drawing something. Something that Frank couldn't make out, as he had to turn away to avoid getting engrossed in that. He liked his job, after all.

Lindsey brought the order out and Frank carried it to the table, placing it down. "That'll be $9.20."

Four of the girls on the table fake rifled through their pockets, only one coming up with twenty cents. They all looked over at the other girl on the table, a small, bookish one with mousy hair and glasses, who sighed and pulled nine dollar bills out of her pocket.
"I don't even know why I come out with you guys. I only ordered a jam roll and you expect me to pay for everything!" She sighed and got up, grabbing her jam roll and making her way over to a table on her own.

"Is it okay if I have an orange juice, please?" She asked and Frank nodded.
"Have it on the house. You paid for all their shit." He shrugged and headed back, pouring an orange and giving it to her.

"Thanks." She smiled. "You don't have to do this for me."

Frank watched as the other girls scowled from their table, and he gave them a huge smirk on the way back round.

"Enjoying your food?" He smirked, walking off behind the counter and sighing quietly.

"Can you serve for a little while?" Frank asked Lindsey, who nodded.

"Sure, why?" She questioned, tearing open a sugar packet with her long nails and emptying the contents into a cup of tea.

"I'm going for a walk on the beach.'

_____________

Frank headed out to the beach, beat-up Converse crunching on the sand as he walked. The sea air rushed through his nose and he smiled at that, closing his eyes and letting childhood memories rush through him for a moment.

He opened them and smiled faintly, perching on a smooth rock and tossing small pebbles, seeing how far they went, enjoying the faint satisfying splash from the ones that hit the sea. He vaguely remembered there being boats at one point when he was younger, smaller vessels bobbing up and down. He remembered queueing up for an ice cream and frantically licking it to save it melting into a puddle, dripping through his fingers into the sand below.

"Hey." A familiar voice made him look up and he smiled when he saw Gerard.

"Hey." He replied and smiled, running a hand through his greasy hair.

"How come you're out here?" Gerard asked. Frank shrugged and tossed another pebble, watching as Gerard recoiled a little.

"Don't do that." He mumbled.

"Why?" Frank raised a brow.

"They have feelings." Gerard mumbled. "The rocks, and the sea. Everything has feelings, because everything contains life. That rock could have had a bug on it. The sea contains millions of creatures." He explained, and Frank raised a brow. "They're not feelings like we have feelings, but they contain the essence of life which gives everything feelings."

Frank sat silently for a moment, surprised at how profound Gerard was. The other man sat next to him and leaned back on the rock, motioning for Frank to look at something-a tiny crab had settled on his hand. "This is what I mean. This rock has feelings because it's home to these creatures. Home is where the heart is and so home therefore must have feelings.'

Frank thought about that for a moment.

"So, what exactly is home?" He questioned. Gerard shrugged.

"Home is somewhere you're happy, content, and loved. My true home is the beach. Because I don't feel happier anywhere else. Drawing here makes me feel content."

"And loved?" Frank questioned.

"I love the nature, and it in turn loves me back." Gerard shrugged.

Frank was enthralled. He sat there, asking questions as Gerard pulled out a picture and began to edit it, rubbing out some parts and smudging the others.

Frank was so content here, he was sure this was somewhere close to Gerard's definition of home.