Frerard-Complicated

Chapter 5: Drawings

Frank:

Gerard left Frank standing in his room while he went to get blankets and stuff. Frank looked around the room. It was a mess. Clutter covered every available surface, and there was a thick blanket covering the only window, blocking out the light. Dirty clothes littered the floor, and and an overflowing trash can stood in the corner. Frank walked over to a large desk on one side of the room. It was covered in sheets of paper. Frank picked a stack of them up. They were all covered in sketches, black and white and colour. They were all of the same thing: Frank. Frank looked through them all, seeing his face from every angle, every expression. There were detailed drawings of his hands, folded on the counter, and the shape of his body as he stacked CDs. Suddenly the reason Gerard slammed his sketchbook shut weeks ago became abundantly clear. Frank turned to the last picture in the stack. It was an exquisitely detailed black and white drawing of his hand, in his fingerless skeleton glove, intertwined with another hand, which he guessed must be Gerard's. He recognised it from when he had helped Gerard off the store floor a few weeks ago. All this time he's been obsessed with me, realised Frank with a start.

Gerard:

Gerard came bouncing into the room holding two blankets in his arms. When he saw Frank standing by the desk, he froze. Frank turned round. He held the sketch of their hands up in an accusing manner. "What the fuck is this?" he asked, in a menacing way. Gerard dropped the blankets on the floor and stammered: "It''s a....well.....an art project?" Frank laughed harshly. The sound made Gerard flinch. "Really? Somehow I don't believe that Gerard." Gerard blinked furiously, trying to think of something to say in reply. But Frank wasn't done talking. "So all this time, you've been watching me, you freak? Why? Did you want to get into my pants or something?" Gerard shook his head frantically: "No....Frank...I just...." "And when I turned up on your doorstep, you thought it was your lucky night, am I right? Well too bad because I'm not like you. I'm not messed up and wrong like you are." Frank snarled. "What are you saying Frank?" Gerard shouted back. "Oh you know exactly what I mean. Good luck with your 'art project', you faggot. Stay away from me!" Frank spat back. He ripped the drawing in half and stormed out of Gerard's room, bumping hard into his shoulder as he did so. Gerard heard the front door slam in the distance and fell to his knees on the floor.

Note:  Hope you like it so far please vote and comment. I know its depressing at the moment but things will get better. thanks for reading x