The Enigma's Anomaly

Opportunity Knocks

I need to get him alone. Alone. Why is he never alone? Coffee shops, grocery stores, what have you. This guy is never by himself.

My initial research on Gerard Way had been entirely accurate. He keeps his schedule so freakishly similar and boring that I can't even be bothered to understand it. The first day goes by rather slowly but it leads into the second where he surprisingly enough, does the exact same thing he did the day before. I arrive around eleven and see him sitting there, still with his back turned to me. Someone is trying to kill you Gerard, the least you can do is face the entrance. He's literally asking for an assassination, Jesus Christ.

I walk over to Gerard and instead of taking the seat across from him I grab the seat to his right so that I can get a little closer. He might start to trust me more if I come off as friendly, and if he trusts me more, he's more likely to be alone with me at some point. I would <em>so</em> love to be alone with him for none homicidal reasons. Focus, Frank, you're on the clock!

"Hey, Frank!" he says and looks at me brightly. Well at least he remembered my name. I look at his hair which is sticking up in odd places and I want to run my hand through it or something. He's got such a soothing personality which makes it so that I don't even find it hard to pretend I like spending time with him. It's not pretending, he's just an honestly sweet person. A little eccentric, but sweet.

He's got an unhealthy attachment to coffee so that he probably can't function without it, but I think it's cute. I also think the way he laughs is cute. The way he puts his whole body into the act, and it's kind of high pitched, but contagious.

We talk for a little while and I get lost. Pretty mouth. Gorgeous hair. Sexy hands. Tiny voice.

"You can't have always known you wanted to be a comic book artist, though," I say. I'm so far wrapped up in conversation with him now that I have to remind myself that this is a target. I don't have friends, not in my line of work, so it's refreshing to get to talk to someone. Especially someone like him who makes it easy to have a conversation.

I can't have emotions for this person. I can't like him or want to make him laugh. It's easier if I don't see him as human. See him maybe as cattle. I'm a fucking vegetarian.

"Yeah, I wanted to be Han Solo," Gerard answers nodding. It looks like he's reminiscing, and I laugh at his goofy expression. The tone of his voice is absolute sincerity. This beautiful boy really did want to be Han Solo. He probably had his own laser gun and shot stormtroopers with his brother. What was his brothers name again? It doesn't matter. Stop seeing Gerard as a person.

"Who the fuck doesn't want to be Han Solo?"

"Valid point," he answers, "Seriously, though! That guy is so cool. Nifty spaceship, and a bunch of awesome weapons and shit. I'd sell my left foot to be him."

"Or maybe an arm," I say, admiring my own reference. "You would also have a Wookie and a hot chick."

"Not really my style," he says with a shrug, "though Wookie's are pretty cool." That's no surprise, he's not straight. Like there was ever really a doubt. Heterosexuals aren't that articulate. It's information I'll keep in my back pocket, though. If I meet him in the afterlife, I'll be sure to give him my number. I kind of hope that that won't be for a while on my end, which is a hypocritical thing to hope for. I'm not in this job to die quicker. I'm in this job so that I have the money to live longer. I'm not a great person.

"So what did you want to be?" He asks.

"Me? God, I don't know... I wanted to be in a band," I conclude. I wanted to shred peoples faces off.

"That's universal too!"

I guess he's right. Everyone is kind of cliché when they're younger. Bands, celebrities, firefighters. We've all been there. Though I decide to leave out my childhood dream of becoming a cheerleader. Some things just shouldn't be said out loud.