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Chapter 3

When Frank woke, he was more than a little bit confused. For one, he couldn’t see anything. He also couldn’t move his arms or legs. Frank blinked a few times to assure himself that, yes, his eyes were open before trying to move his arms. A few moments of fruitless struggling brought Frank to the devastating conclusion that he was tied up to a chair of some sort. He couldn’t feel a blindfold against his face and he could still feel his eyeballs in his skull, so that must mean all the lights were off. Frank took in a deep breath and began yelling for help.

“Help! Someone! Jesus Christ, goddammit, HELP ME! AHHHHH! HELP, HELP, HELP!”

A hand over Frank’s mouth made him fall silent. “Shush, Frankie. You’ll wake the neighbours…”

The lights were suddenly turned on and Frank blinked against the sudden harsh lighting. “Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?” he coughed, feeling for the first time how dry his throat was. “Why are you doing this exactly?”

Gerard wandered around the kitchen, where he had tied Frank up, and thought to himself. “Well…. I like you. You’re cute,” he smiled at Frank. The light hit his eyes and Frank shuddered. He still had those freaky-ass black contacts in.

“Ok, I get it. You think I’m cute. You’re also a massive Supernatural fan, I can tell. But don’t you think it would’ve been more effective to ask me out to a movie, maybe?” Frank reasoned, trying to free his arms.

Gerard laughed. “You think these are fake?” he asked, pointing up to his eyes.

Frank titled his head to the side. “Well, yeah. You can’t just have black eyes, Gerard it’s not possible.”

Gerard walked forward and stuck his face next to Frank’s, smiling wide. He tilted his head and for a bizarre moment, Frank thought he was going to be kissed by a mental patient. But Gerard’s eyes changed. Frank wasn’t talking the whole “the light hit his eyes the wrong way” sort of change. He was talking “from pitch black to flecked hazel” kind of change. And to be honest, that freaked Frank out a little bit. “Really?”

“Ok, so maybe you aren’t faking. Ok…” Frank turned his head and looked toward the window. “So, um, Gerard…. How long have you been like this?” he asked conversationally.

Gerard stood back and hoisted himself up onto Frank’s kitchen counter. He pulled his legs up and crossed them, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Well, to be completely honest, only a few hours. But I feel great!”

 

Frank nodded slowly, scoping the room. “Uh-huh… so what made you like this?” he asked nonchalantly.

Gerard was seconds away from answering but the doorbell rang. His head snapped to the right and he sighed. “Be right back, Frankie!” he promised, jumping down from the counter and flicking the kitchen light off. Gerard stepped into the hall and turned on the lounge light. His body flickered and appeared by the door, scaring the crap out of Frank.

“What the hell…” Frank whispered to himself, his eyes wide. “What the hell is going on....”