frerard oneshots | ✔︎

bridge

tw // suicidal thoughts
[lowercase intended]

—

some days the world just felt numb for frank. he was so sad and didn't see a point in living. he was ashamed of who he was and felt like a failure, but didn't know how to tell his parents. everyone noticed an attitude change in the once happy boy, but when people asked him if he was okay, it was denied.

frank would often stay up late and walk to the bridge where he heavily debated ending it all, but yet didn't. every night, he saw a boy sitting at the edge, swinging his legs back in forth over the body of water, the fog swirling around the figure. he never had the courage to say hi, so he just never said anything.

the moon was covered by the clouds, giving the night an eerie look. frank walked down the path, his feet crunching under leaves, gravel, and twigs. he could see his breath and imagined himself smoking a cigarette, debating whether he should pick up that habit or not.

he arrived at the bridge, swinging his legs over the ledge, looking down into the still water. suddenly, he saw a figure walk over towards him, smoking a cigarette.

"want one?" the mystery guy asked, swinging their legs over the ledge as well.

"uh, sure." he replied, scratching the back of his head, taking it from the box. frank twiddled it between his fingers.

"you probably want to light that."

"yeah..." frank said nervously.

the mystery guy flicked the lighter open, illuminating his face. he had deep brown eyes, pale skin, hollowed in cheekbones, dark bags under his eyes, and long, black hair. frank also saw a huge bruise on his face.

he moved towards the flame, the cigarette in his mouth. it lit up, smoke starting to come from it. he remembered what the people on tv did, so he tried to replicate that. it kind of worked, except frank coughed a few times.

"what's your name?" mystery guy asked.

"frank. what about you?"

"gerard. i see you here every night for the most part. why?"

"well, gerard." the name rolled so smoothly off of his tongue as he blew out the toxic smoke. "i really don't want to be here anymore, but for some reason i'm still here."

"me too." gerard agreed, running a hand through his hair. "you're pretty memorable, you know? bright red hair in the moonlight looks pretty cool."

"hah, thanks. i've never really seen your face." frank replied.

"i'm a sore sight to see at the moment." gerard laughed dryly, inhaling the smoke, then exhaling. "i come here every night for the same reason... yet i'm still here. and i don't know why... but i think it's because of you."

"i've always wanted to talk to you, but i never did, so i just kept coming back. i guess you're the same reason why." he replied.

"how old are you?" gerard asked, staring out into the night.

"16. what about you?"

"17."

"well frank, i think we should be friends."

"mhm. now, put your number." frank replied, handing gerard his phone.

he quickly typed in his digits, handing the phone back to frank. "there you go. just a fair warning, i suck ass at responding."

frank chuckled, "me too."

the boys sat there in comfortable silence for the rest of the night, smoking the entire pack of cigarettes till the sun rose.