Death Is Strange

SIX

Gerard stared across the wharf, seated crosslegged on the dock, but his eyes didn't see. He sensed Frank talking, but his ears didn't hear.

Frank's hand clamped onto his arm, gently shaking him.

Please don't make the cuts bleed again, Gerard thought, staring down at Frank's tattooed fingers, at the chipped black nail polish on his thumbnail...

"Gee. You okay?"

Gerard nodded, finding his tongue. "Just thinking about a lot. I had no idea Quinn and Bert..." he stopped, burying his face in his hands. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he sat up, pulling it out. "What the hell," he snapped, turning shakily to Frank. "Mikey's been getting harassed by the fucking janitor and he didn't tell anyone. Said the guy was trying to get information out of him about Danny. Mikey doesn't even fucking talk to Danny!" Gerard typed furiously for a minute, then shoved his phone back in his pocket. "I'm so done. I can't handle myself, let alone anyone else." He sighed, and lay down, putting his head in Frank's lap. "I'm done talking to people about Bert today. I almost had a fucking panic attack at those policemen and then I find out Quinn fucked my boyfriend?"

Frank absentmindedly combed his fingers through Gerard's hair, realizing Gerard had definitely washed after last night, because though it still was unkempt, it was soft and silky.

"Do you want to just chill somewhere? We literally have all weekend and nothing to do."

Gerard bit his lip. "Yeah. I guess. We could go to my house. My stepdick is gone until seven o' clock."

"I'm hungry."

Gerard sat up, a glint in his eye. "Me too."

"No, for like actual food."

Gerard giggled. "I know."

Gerard ransacked the kitchen, searching every cabinet. "We have cereal. That's about it. You good with Lucky Charms?"

"Yeah, sure." Frank turned his attention to the family portrait hanging in the dining room. "I'm surprised your stepdouche doesn't mind having a picture up that has your real dad in it."

Gerard shrugged, sliding a bowl of cereal across the counter and grabbing the milk. "It's not like there was a falling out. My dad died in a car accident. He was going to pick my mom up from an appointment but never made it. They could hardly pry the car open to get him out." Gerard nonchalantly took a bite of cereal. "I was thirteen. It ruined me."

"Goddamn." Frank picked up his cereal, stirring it slowly.

"Yep. My life's been dipped in shit ever since." He paused. "Well, until I met Bert."

Frank stopped mid-chew. "Is everything shit again now?" he mumbled.

"Nope. I'm okay. Also, you're here..." his voice trailed off. He dumped the rest of his cereal down the sink and put the bowl in the dishwasher.

"Dude, how are you not hungry?" A shadow of an idea formed in the back of Frank's mind, but he shook it away. There's no way he has body issues. He's godlike.

"Uh... I need to lose weight."

Frank's heart sank. "Really?"

"Yeah, um. I was a fat kid, you know, still got a way to go. Just look at that family picture again. I'm huge."

Frank glanced at it. Twelve-year-old Gerard had been chubby, and his boyish haircut didn't help the look, but he wasn't fat. Frank nodded around another spoonful of cereal. "Okay. In my opinion, and from what you... feel like... you're slender. Like, Legolas or something."