Winter Screams and Starbucks - littleblackghost

Part 3

The next few days were almost the same. Each day, Gerard would sit in his regular spot by the window, and he'd be shaken out of his thoughts as his table was bumped by Dewees or Frank, who never really spoke, only smiled, nodded, or waved.

It was odd, really. There was Gerard, sat in a coffee shop, and his favourite band were pretty much walking in and out each day, acknowledging him, and he would just sit there, a confused look on his face, not quite sure what to make of it all.

When the weekend came, Gerard had to drive out to New York for a few days, handing in his work which he knew was nowhere near as good as he wanted it to be, but if his boss was happy with it, he could deal with it.

On the Monday, Gerard was back at his usual table by the window, the light drizzle falling down the glass, as he worked away on a Hawaiian shirt for Séance, when he felt his table shake slightly.

He looked up, his stomach jumping when he saw Frank leaning on his table, hands grasping the edges, a small smile on his face.
"You been hiding?" The small man asked.
"Huh?" Gerard replied, running a hand through his hair.
"You haven't been in for a few days."

Gerard stared at him, before he shook his head. "I was in New York...work stuff..." Why was he explaining this to Frank Iero.
"Ahh," Frank said, straightening up. "Cool."
Gerard nodded, pursing his lips slightly.

"I thought you'd ran away," Frank said in a mischievous tone, just as Dewees walked through the door, shaking the light rain from his hair.
"Missed your face," Frank grinned, before he made his way over to the counter, and engaged in a conversation with Dewees.

Gerard stared at the two men, a feeling of sheer non-comprehension flooding his body.
Had Frank...had Frank Iero just flirted with him?

No. That was insane! That was more than insane! It was Frank Iero. And Gerard was, well, Gerard. He wrote comics, painted a little, and watched too many horror movies.
Frank Iero was the insane, three foot singer (ok, maybe he wasn't that small) of Gerard's favourite post-hardcore band, who liked to make out with random guys in the crowd for shock value.

Gerard was returning to his colouring when his table was bumped, and he looked up to see Frank and Dewees waving, before exiting the shop.

Really, Gerard thought, sighing at his drawing. If they were gonna keep up with the table bumping, they should really start buying him new sketchpads, if they were gonna ruin so many of his drawings.