The Wrong Body [Frerard AU]

Chapter Nine

Just like that, it was New Year's Eve. Frankie dreaded the holiday. Every year, she was forced to dress up for her mother's annual work party and wasn't allowed out of the kitchen. Which meant she had to watch over the food, she had to serve the champagne, and she had to talk to whoever wandered into the room.

Bad cooking and social anxiety don't mix.

She didn't know how to cook. Hell, she couldn't even pronounce half the dishes her mom made her serve. And when a hundred or so people were counting on good food, it made her nerves to up.

But this year, she was lucky. Someone from her school was throwing a party, which Lindsey begged her to attended.

"No," Frankie had said countless times.

"What if I told you Gerard's gonna be there?" Lindsey had said.

Those nine words had persuaded her to go. Frankie and Lindsey were huddled in one of the corners of the giant house, doing nothing in particular, just trying to stay away from everybody who was drunk or high.

"Where's Gerard?" Frankie asked after a while.

"He's running a little late," Lindsey responded. "I think Mikey has a cold."

Frankie nodded. The crowd of people were starting to scare her. "I'm gonna run to the bathroom."

Lindsey fiddled with her ponytail. "'Kay."

Frankie ducked around the swarm of people in order to get to the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door and breathed a sigh of relief. So many people.

She pushed her hands through her hair, noticing little beads of sweat in her forehead as she did so. She needed to get out of the damn house.

Frankie crossed over to the door and pushed it open. She was just about to leave when she noticed a bottle of cologne on the counter.

She stood still for a while, the door just barely open. Surely a little bit wouldn't hurt, she decided as she unscrewed the cap.

---

Gerard entered the party to find Lindsey leaning against a wall, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. Frankie was no where to be seen.

"Hey," Lindsey greeted with a grin as Gerard made his way over to her. "Is Mikey better?"

"Yeah, there's just a bug running through the orphanage," Gerard responded. "He'll be okay."

"That's good."

They watched the party in front of them for a while. The people dancing were starting to hear things up a bit; grinding on each other and grabbing their partner's ass.

"Some party, huh," Gerard joked.

Lindsey giggled at his words. "Do you remember your eighth birthday party? Where we all made crowns?"

"I do!" Gerard exclaimed as he started to laugh as well. "Your mom told you that you looked like a princess and you looked her dead in the eye and told her that you were the prettiest prince in all the lands."

"Lindsey Ballato, defying gender stereotypes at age eight." Lindsey giggled harder.

"Hey, is Frankie here?" Gerard asked, changing the subject.

Lindsey frowned. "Yeah, she's in the bathroom. I'm gonna see if she's okay; she was in there for a while."

"Alright."

Lindsey headed to the basement, where she guessed there was a bathroom there. She passed a couple doors when she heard a voice. She froze.

Retracing her steps, she came to a stop at a door that was just barely open. She peered through the crack.

There was a girl standing in front of the mirror, gazing at her reflection. "Soon," she whispered to herself.

Lindsey's stomach turned. She knew who that voice belonged to. That was Frankie.

Frankie was talking to herself again. "I'll get to be myself soon. I'll get to be a boy."

Lindsey couldn't help but to smile sadly. Frankie was transgender. She– he– was a boy. She– he– had hidden himself for sixteen years. Lindsey couldn't imagine doing that.

She gave a soft rap on the bathroom door. "Frankie? Are you in there?"

She heard a small crash and flinched. That didn't sound good.

Frankie's voice came out shaky. "Y-yeah, I'll be o-out s-soon."

Moments later, the door opened and Frankie walked out, a frightened expression on her face. She avoided eye contact with Lindsey and hurried back to the party. Lindsey followed her, the smell of cologne tickling her nose.