Frerard oneshots

It's been eight bitter years since I've been seeing your face

My heart was about to burst out of my chest. I couldn't believe that I was actually doing this. How was I supposed to start this conversation? Would he even remember me? God, this was so stupid. I should back out. Should I?

I paced around my living room, staring at my phone with furrowed eyebrows. This was such a weird moment, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. I tried, trust me, I tried so hard to get this out of my head but it didn't work. Fear came washing over me again.

Even if he would remember me, would he remember the situation? And if he did, would he just laugh at me? It's been so long.

But what if he did remember? What if he didn't laugh at me?

Before I was able to back out again I just quickly pressed the call button, causing my heart to miss a beat because I actually did it. I started to panic and was about to hang up again but he had already picked up. I took a deep breath and put the phone to my ear.

'Hello?'

It's been so long since I've heard his voice.

'Hi, uhm, Frank?'

'Oh my god, is that you?'

I squeezed my eyes shut and smiled slightly. He did remember me.

'Yes, it's me. Gerard.'

My heartbeat didn't seem to slow down any time soon. I couldn't believe I was actually talking to him again.

'Wow, I didn't see that coming. But I'm glad. How-how are you? What have you been up to all those years?'

I took a deep breath.

'Nothing special, really. Finished college, moved out, got a job, lost the job, got a new one, the typical shit. But I'm good. How about you?'

I was talking so fast, I would be surprised if he was able to understand me. But I could hear him laugh on the other side.

'Yeah, I'm doing alright. I got a job, I was able to play a few shows, nothing big though. Yeah, I-I'm alright.'

I smiled at his words. I remembered how he always talked about being a rock star some day. There was a short pause before he continued.

'God, I can't believe that I am actually talking to you. How long has it been? Eight years?'

I nodded slowly, thinking.

'Seven, eight, years. Something like that, yes.'

I started to chuckle slightly.

'And you still have the same phonenumber.'

He started laughing as well.

'Yes, and you still have the number.'

Obviously, he was right. I could never get myself to delete his number. I shook my head in disbelieve. This was actually happening.

'Tell me more, c'mon. What's your job? Do you still live in Jersey?'

I could hear him laugh again and it was taking me back to all those years ago.

'As if I could ever leave Jersey. I just live here with my like ten dogs by now. Well, maybe not ten but you get the picture. And I'm working at this bar in town, as I said, sometimes get the chance to get on stage. Yeah, theres really not much more to my life right now. What about you? Are you still in Jersey?'

'New York actaully. I moved here to become an artist but it didn't really work out so I got a job at a comicbook shop. Nothing special, but it pays the bills, so.'