Frerard-Complicated

Chapter 2: Home life

Frank:

It was eight at night, and Frank sat on his bed with his phone in his lap. He had come home, grabbed the phone and sat like this for hours, even though Gerard had said he wouldn't be calling until the evening. His eyes were fixed on the wall in front of him, but he wasn't really looking at it. He hadn't done any homework that evening. The only thing he could think of was Gerard's smile, and the way he had said Frank's name. He punched his pillow with frustration. Why couldn't he get that  damn man out of his head? Anyone would think he was attracted to him for fucks sake! But of course that was stupid. He wasn't gay, and he was in love with Jamia. He conjured up her face in his mind. He felt a deep sense of affection, but that was all. Was he really romantically attracted to Jamia, or just clinging to someone, just needing to be loved? He had never had the feeling in his stomach that he had felt in the shop when he looked at Jamia. Frank shook his head, chastising himself. Of course he loved Jamia. She made him feel happy, or at least secure. Anyway, reflected Frank, he was beginning to feel that he maybe didn't deserve happiness.

Deep in thought, he almost jumped out of his skin when the phone rang. He grabbed it: "Hello ?" he practically yelled down it. "Hi there, its Gerard here. Is this Frank?" Gerard's voice sounded lower and rougher down the phone. "Anyway, I called my boss and he's happy to give you a job. Would it be okay to start tomorrow?" Frank knew it wasn't; it was Thursday tomorrow and he had to go to school. However, he couldn't bring himself to say no. He hated school. Everyone there looked at him as if he was a freak, and no one spoke to him all day. "Yeah, tomorrow sounds good", he heard himself saying. "Great, I'll see you tomorrow then" Gerard said. "Bye Frank." The line clicked and Gerard was gone. Frank rolled over on his bed, clutching the phone to his chest. He heard the slam of a door downstairs. Oh great; his parents had started up again. He heard his father shouting, and then his mother's hissed retort. Frank pulled his pillow over his head, trying to block the noises out. A tear ran down his cheek, and then another, and another. He switched his light off, climbed fully dressed under his covers, and cried himself to sleep for the thousandth time.