Dying In LA ||Frerard/Ryden/Petekey||

Chocolate

A/N: yo

Gerard's POV:

I wheeled around in the new spinny chair in my office, my black shoes squeeling on the floor as I pushed myself away from my desk towards the door, then back again.
I looked off at the small window in my office. Bert would have loved the view. It was a very indstrial city, Bert loved the look of tall buildings and bright lights bouncing back off of the atmosphere. But Bert wasn't here anymore.

Turning back to my desk, I grabbed a chocolate out of the bowl on my desk, tore off the wrapper, and popped it into my mouth.

These were Berts favorite.

I have always taken losses well in the past. Now is not the time to grieve, now is the time to work.

But this is different.

Bert was my everything. He was my world, maybe even more. We were truely solemates, no matter what came between us we always managed to work it out. No matter what I did, how bad I felt or how much worried he was always there to comfort me in my time of need.

It's time to let go and move on to other things.

I slowly stood up from my desk and brushed off my black trousers.

I ducked out of my bland office and walked down the long hall, draped in industrial carpet with common lights hanging above that look as if they could belong in a school.

This place could really use some lamps for soft lighting and a house plant or two.

Maybe i'll go shopping for some later with Phil, he quite likes the large green leafy specimens.

I softly knocked on the door of Mr. Howell's office dwelling.

"Come in." A strong, deep voice murmered.
I twisted the metallic doorknob and pushed the door open.
"Good morning, Mr. Howell, do you mind if I take the afternoon off? There's a few-" "Say no more way, you can take off tomorrow as well if you'd like, but i'm afraid thursday we'll need you for a briefing to the local police at 10 and a private questioning later that day at 3." He said sternly, but sounded softer when he mentioned everything was mandatory on thursday.
"Of course!" I said enthusiastically, "i'll see you later, Daniel." I finished, making my way to the door.
"It's Mr. Howell to you, Mr. Way." He said, scolding me.
"But Mr. Lester calls you by that name, doesn't he, Mr. Howell?" I said with a wink.
I could practically hear him blushing as I exited the room, shutting the door gently and taking a left at the end of the hall towards the elevators.

XXX

Dan's POV
Damn it, Gerard.
That cheeky fucker. He knows me and Phil's relationship is nothing but professional, but still insists we're a thing.

I wish.
No Dan, bad Dan. You know that's probably illegal in your industry.

I grabbed a stack of paper work I needed to fill out, mostly about our recent findings.
It's a shame Bert was murdered, i've only met him a few times but he seemed like a good guy. He definitely made Gee happy, they both were like soulmates from what I saw.

As I signed the last paper my phone buzzed.

Phil ^_^: hey, wanna grab a coffee from the place down the
street??

Maybe this would be good to get my mind off of things for a bit,
take a break.
Me: Yeah sure, which coffee shop?
Phil ^_^: i found this cool cafe that is themed around infamous
criminals

Sounds like something Phil would happen upon.
Me: Why not? I'll be over in a few.

Phil ^_^: k sys xx
I turned off my phone, shoved it into my pocket, and made my way to the door. I should probably stop by the bathroom to make sure I look okay.

Incase I see a cute girl at the coffee shop, obviously.

I don't know who else it would be for.

I exited my office and turned down a hallway to the closest bathroom, tripping a little over nothing.
I'm so giddy about getting coffee with Phi- Mr. Lester, it's a bit ridiculous. I see him practically every day.
I shouldn't get this excited over one little trip to a cafe up the street.

I ducked into the extreamly industrial looking bathroom. Whoever invented fluorescent lighting should be arrested. You could be the worlds prettiest person and still look like a hot mess under this shit.

I starred at myself in the mirror, barely recognising myself.

My eyes look tired, like they have taken shelter from the world by sinking into my skull the slightest, they toted dark eye bags, hanging low underneath. My lips are light and chapped, drained of life like the rest of my body.

Holy fuck, I look like a damn zombie.

I sighed, turning the water on.
Cool liquid flowed from the metal faucet.

I made a cup with my pale hands and collected the water, closed my heavy eyelids, then gentley splashed myself.
I opened my eyes to see an absolute tragedy.
Tiny water droplets made their way off of my face onto the ugly counter top and my shirt.

"Fuck me." I mumbled to myself.

I better look less dead inside for ruining this shirt.

I turned to the paper towel dispenser and began to ferociously dab away the water from my shirt.

Hopefull this doesn't suck.