She's The Prettiest Girl At The Party. (Frerard)

Trigger warning (?)

Okay, so to be perfectly clear, Frank was totally NOT a creepy stalker. He just happened to suddenly walk into a bar he'd never been into before after he saw his ex-band mate/ex-boyfriend walk in. Well, it looked like him. He wasn't exactly 100% sure it was Gerard, but it was good enough for him.

Frank hadn't talked to Gerard since the breakup, and that had been around maybe two or three years ago. Yeah, of course he'd occasionally talk to Ray or Mikey, because things between them were perfectly fine, but Gerard was a completely different story. Frank would text him every now and then, but he would never get a response. Which tore him up from the inside out, Frank didn't even know what he did wrong. He once asked Mikey, to which the lanky man claimed he had no idea as to why Gerard wouldn't even glance at him. But Frank wouldn't believe him since he knew Gerard told Mikey everything, and also the fact Mikey was a terrible liar.

As soon as Frank had walked into this completely new atmosphere in the form of a bar, he felt a rush of warmth bombard him like a smack in the face.There was around 5-10 people inside, which he mentally thanked God for. He shrugged off his jacket, taking a seat at the front of the bar, eyes scanning around for a certain orange-haired man. He soon spotted him a couple seats away, a warm smile on his face as he looked down at his phone. Frank then quickly adverted his eyes, a flood of emotions hitting him like a tidal wave. He felt the emotions built up over the years tear him apart like a lamb cornered by a pack of wolves. Crying or throwing up was probably his best bet of what he'd do next, a broken sigh erupting from him. Frank covered his mouth with one hand, the other gripping onto the bar in hopes of helping him not fall over. The memories of him and Gerard flooded into his mind, along with all of those nights filled with vodka, tears, a microphone, and his guitar.

Frank nearly toppled over as he heard the giggles and remembered the kisses he exchanged over the course of many years. His head was screaming, and Frank sat there, his heart breaking into billions of pieces, while Gerard sat a few yards away, completely oblivious to Frank's existence in the bar.

"Sir, are you okay?" The bartender asked, looking down at him in a concerned manner. Frank looked up at the lady, his throat raspy and his eyes red. He cleared his throat, nodding and removing his hand. "Uhm, yeah, I'm alright. Thank you." Frank rasped out, looking back down and propping his elbows up onto the bar and resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. The bartender nodded, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice cold Jack Daniel. She slid it over to him, grabbing a rag and wiping down some sticky spots on the bar where people had been previously. "Wanna talk about it?" She asked, causing Frank to look back up at her, a sympathetic look on her face.

*

Eight glasses of vodka and a heart pouring conversation later, Frank was sobbing to the bartender about his failed relationship and his coping mechanisms.

"I just miss him a lot, you know?" He choked out, finishing up his ninth as she slid him another. "And he just fucked off and got married, you know? And had a fucking kid. He didn't even invite me to the wedding. I didn't find out until he announced it one night on stage! I thought I had gotten over it by now, but fuck. Seeing him again, just completely smacked me in the face. Like of course I didn't get over him, I was in love with the guy for years." He rambled on, resting his head on the counter.

The bartender thought for a minute, pursing her lips. "If you can't get through to him at all, then Frank, I think its time to let go." She said in a hushed voice, as she noticed Frank staring at the orange-haired man for the billionth time tonight. "Thats him, isn't it?" She asked quietly, following Frank's line of sight, only to look back at him. Frank let out a sigh and nodded. "What am I gonna do with myself?"