The first thing Gerard thinks, is that he must be deaf because the words forming on Frank’s lips make no sense to him, the sound is lost somewhere between them and the message never gets carried across the gap of air. The second thing Gerard thinks, is that he’s dreaming again, another one of those fucked up nonsensical dreams he’s been having so many of recently.
It takes him a few moments but eventually he manages to open his mouth. “Frank?” he croaks and is shocked when the solitary word simply reverberates off the glass and back into the room.
It’s sound proofed.
Alice looks at Gerard for a long minute then switches her gaze onto Frank, she doesn’t appear to recognise him, not exactly, but something must click in her brain because she’s soon scrabbling out the room and calling her goodbyes.
Gerard goes back to looking at Frank, his mouth is a little O and his eyes are wide, the two men stare at each other for a long, almost painful, moment then Frank finally moves. He takes a few timid steps towards the phone on the wall and gestures something vague with his hands. It takes Gerard a few seconds to work out what Frank’s saying, but soon he too is moving across the small room and picking up the old wire phone.
“Gee?” Frank croaks and Gerard watches his mouth move, slightly out of sync.
“Frank.” Gerard says for lack of anything better, his thoughts are too muddled, covered in something thick and gooey, incomprehensible and more than slightly scary.
“Why are you here?” Frank asks, his voice wavering.
Gerard looks harder at Frank, at the tight clothing and glossy lips, at his short hair and pale skin a little slick with sweat; it’s hot in there, Gerard can feel the heat clinging to his own flesh.
“Are you drunk?” Frank asks when Gerard doesn’t reply.
“Frank,” Gerard says, and then, “No! No I’m not.”
Gerard watches some of the tension slip from Frank’s shoulders, but it’s not enough; he still looks drawn and a little pinched, a little hazy round the edges like the wind may just carry him away at any second. He looks towards the timer on the wall, next to the vending style box; the red text flashes eight minutes.
“Why are you here?” Frank asks again, his voice horse and anxious. He looks so fragile, smaller than normal and even younger; his eyes wide and scared. Gerard gets a funny feeling in his gut. “Gerard, answer me.” Frank’s voice rises slightly, a crease forming between his brow.
“I was with Alice, she- I.” Gerard rushes to get the words out, his breath catching and hiccupping in his throat, he does sound drunk, a little bit.
“Is Alice?” Frank lets the phone fall a little as he asks but Gerard can see he hasn’t finished the question anyway.
“Why are you here, Frank?” Gerard’s mouth asks without his permission, he’s not too bothered; he hasn’t got it in him to think right now.
“I work here.” Frank says, his voice empty and smudging at the edges, lost to the static of the line.
“Frank, you?”
“Meet me round the back in half an hour, I get off then.” Frank interrupts. “Please.” He adds, his eyes desperate.
Gerard nods but doesn’t put the phone down straight away, their eyes catching for a few lucid moments before Frank moves to push a few buttons and the curtain retreats to the floor.
-
Gerard’s hands are numb and his nose is starting to drip. It’s really late now and he’s not sure where Alice went, the feeling of abandonment washes over him in pulses, making him sick and uneasy. Gerard hates waiting, hates the nausea ripping at his stomach, he hates the nagging feeling at the edges of his brain; telling him to go home, to forget. Gerard pushes the itch away, he’s waiting for Frank, Frank needs him.
