[ENG] Far Away Stars 'n Shattered Glass

2. Nothing Wrong

       

Gerard "Nox" Way had met a lot of people in the course of his life, so many that sometimes Mikey had suggested he keep a notebook for posterity. Even if he'd always been good with words, he'd decided to avoid the idea: some things were best kept hidden, while others were simply too absurd to be described. Only after a long time he understood that his brother had meant it as a joke; maybe spending all that time in the same room with Tyler was making him become too serious, or at least, Gerard told himself that as an excuse, because Tyler claimed the same thing to Gerard. It was like a vicious circle.

Anyway, the young barman in front of him didn't look too well. With a grayish complexion, tending towards green, the boy had been standing stiffly for more than two minutes already. Uncomfortable, Gerard darted his eyes to one side and then the other, before going back to staring at the barman, who apparently was named Frank, or at least that was what the tag on his button up shirt said.

For a second Gerard was scared that the guy had recognized him, but it seemed highly improbable: he hadn't ventured often on this part of the galaxy, and not a lot of people had ever seen his face, or knew his name - his real name, other than Nox. After all, if he stood up now and announced that simple word, probably a lot of those not so honest gentlemen would have run off - or they would have taken a weapon out to shoot him in the back. He could never know, but Gerard loved that side of his life as well.

It was a constant race against time, surrounded by space, chased by the world. He and the other Strays knew that well.

To tear him from his train of thought was a sharp pain on his side, but Gerard grinded his teeth and didn't make a sound. He only had to drink something, and he would have taken care of all his other problems later.

***

"Uhm - yes, c-coming right up," answered Frank, stumbling on his own tongue but finally managing to unblock himself from the instant of stillness he'd got himself caught up in – an unpleasant sensation that had almost reminded him of his old panic attacks, dating back to his school days.

Deathly Smackdown, his brain reminded him quickly, and Frank turned around to shoot an anxious look to the door James had disappeared behind, but it didn't seem to be about to move again. Sighing, the young man grabbed the alcoholics (some of the strongest in his stock, this was one of those drinks with which people had all the intention to get drunk) and he ignored the awkwardness of having the stranger's eyes on his back, because he knew that his light gaze was observing each of his movements.

Moving automatically, Frank grabbed a glass without even looking and started pouring the ingredients, stirring with a long spoon and nibbling on the silver ring on his lip -  a habit of when he felt stressed and under pressure, and then Frank started really asking himself why the arrival of this dude was working him up so much... was it because the conversation with James had upset him more than he thought? Or because he'd retired to the back to suddenly, leaving Frank with a vague signal of alarm? Frank swallowed and shot a short look behind him: the stranger was still there, wrapped in his dark cape, arms crossed on the counter, fingers interlaced and thumbs touching. He'd lowered his head again, so that the hood and the hair left his face shadowed. He looked lost in who knows what kind of thoughts.

Frank darted his eyes back to his work, jumping when he realized just in time that he almost made the alcohol spill out from the border of the glass. Feeling betrayed by his own mind, he gritted his teeth and shook his head, trying to wake himself up.

Taking a big breath, Frank turned around and handed the drink to the man. "Here you go, uhm - mister"

The strange customer raised his head and straightened his back, clearly relieved that his order was ready, and when his light eyes met Frank's ones, his lips curled on one side, in a somewhat polite, but at the same time forced, smile. "Thank you," he answered. "And there's no need to calm me 'mister', I don't consider myself that old".