M A N I A ''Frerard One-Shot''

M A N I A

Trigger Warning: mentions of drugs and violence

Gerard

My toes start tapping themselves on the ground. I'm waiting for him to get back. He always leaves the house, and he always leaves me alone. He probably goes to bars and strip-clubs, getting wasted and throwing money at sluts.

I'm pretty sure he's cheating on me.

I envy his friends. They get to spend more time with him than I do. Its like Frank's love for me has disappeared.

My love for him hasn't, and it never will.

I start pacing around the house. We bought it with all the money I've earned from selling drugs. Frank hates that I still sell them. He tells me not to, but how else are we supposed get through life?

Job interviews take a lot of time, but when you're in the drug business, you meet up, hand over the drugs, and start selling. Its easy money.

I'm not very patient, as you can see.

Of course, the drug business has its ups and downs. But I can handle it. I'm not some weakling.

The door swings open, revealing the small man. I smile at the sight of him.

"Hey, baby." I greet, and he walks right past me.

"Frank!" He doesn't turn around, "Aren't you going to say hello to me?"

He keeps walking, and then he turns into the bathroom. The door closes and locks. After a few seconds, I walk to the bathroom door and listen.

"No, no, he's here." Pause. "You want to meet up tomorrow?" Pause. "Okay, yeah, I can do that. Won't be a problem." Another pause. "Alright, I'll be there tomorrow. Love ya, hun." A short pause, and then he laughs. "Okay, bye. Have a good night." He hangs up.

He's definitely cheating.

He opens the door and looks shocked to see me.

"Who was that?" I ask furiously.

He ignores me, and walks to the kitchen.

"Who was that?!" I'm yelling now.

"None of your fuckin' business." He mutters.

"I'm your boyfriend! It is my business!" He rolls his eyes at my words, "Are you cheating on me?" I ask quietly.

He laughs, and then sits on the barstool by the counter.

"Answer me, goddamn it!" I want to throw something. I need to throw something.

"What do you want me to say? 'Yes, Gerard, I'm cheating on you.' Or 'no, Gerard, I'm not cheating on you.' Either way, you're going to be angry. You're just some clingy freak who wants to spend every living second with me." He says.

"Get out."

"Excuse me?"

"Get out." The venom drips thickly from my voice, "Get out, Frank! Get out!" I yell, and I throw the nearest object at him.

The lamp hits his arm and shatters when it hits the ground. A few pieces of glass fly up and hit him. He sits there in shock, a few pieces of glass stuck in his knee. Blood starts to drip from the wound.

"Why should I get out?" He asks quietly but dangerously, "I'm your boyfriend, right? Right?!" He yells.

I stare at him silently. And then I explode.

"This is my house! Not yours, mine! I worked hard in the drug business for this house! I worked hard! Selling cocaine on the streets, selling whatever drugs Ray handed to me! I did all this work, not you!" I scream, and Frank smirks.

He gets up and starts to walk to the door.

"No, Frank, please." I beg, "Don't leave me, please, Frank. I love you, I'm sorry. Don't leave."

He leaves.
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I sit on my bed, crying and yelling at myself. I can't believe he did that. He was supposed to stay.

"Why didn't he stay?" I whisper to myself, voice cracking mid-sentence.

I stare at the wall before throwing my fist at it. There's a hole, now. Why can't I punch myself and have the same result?

I hear a door swing open and I rush out of my bedroom.

"Frank?" I call out.

The short man closes the door and sits on the couch.

"Frank." I say, my heart filling with joy, "You came back." He ignores me and stares at the carpet.

I stand in front of him and kneel down so I can look at him.

"Frank." I say softly, but he doesn't look at me. I place my hands on his cheeks and he flinches.

"Frank." He doesn't look up, and I place myself under his gaze, "Love me."

He looks away and gets up, tearing himself from my grasp.

"Frank!" I yell, grabbing an empty glass bottle that used to be full of alcohol, "You went to go meet that slut, didn't you?" He stays silent.

I throw the glass bottle at him, and he dodges it. It shatters when it hits the floor. All of a sudden, red and blue lights are flashing outside the house.

"Frank, its the police!" I say in a hushed voice.

"I know." He turns and he finally looks at me.

The police kick down the door and aim their guns at me.

"Put your hands up in the air!" A male officer shouts.

A female officer walks to Frank, and she hugs him, envy filling me up.

"You did good, Frank. After all those recordings and stake outs, you finally helped us close the case." She says, and it all comes flooding back to me.

Frank was an undercover investigator when we met, and he still is. He wasn't at the bar or strip-club all those nights. He was at his workplace, plotting his every move to capture me.

The memory renews itself in my mind.

--

"So, what do you do for a living?" I ask, smiling drunkenly.

"I'm an undercover investigator. I trick people." He answers with a grin.

"Are you sure you're not tricking me?" I giggle, and he laughs.

"I'm pretty sure." He says, raising the glass to his lips.

--

Anger boils inside of me as the police handcuff me.

Frank betrayed me.

A few officers come in with canines and start searching around the house.
Moments later, an officer shouts, "I found it!"

He brings back my drug pouch that I had hidden.

"Sir, you are under arrest for holding and selling drugs. You have the right to remain silent." The officer says.

Frank looks at me one last time and says, "Goodbye, Gerard."
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Authors note: Sorry? Jesus Christ, I watch way too much General Hospital.

-Karen