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a/n: hihi !! good news- there's a double chapter upload next week. i'm so excited to show you guys what i've got written down ;). for now, here's this...

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Frank's POV

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"You're so cute, Gee," I say, blushing.

"No, you are!" He shuffles closer towards me on the graveyard bench.

"Aw, fuck. C'mere, baby." I wrap my arms around him as our lips quickly collide, the spring breeze hitting our faces.

"Faggots!" A voice shouts from the near-distance.

We pull away quickly, each spinning our heads to see where the noise came from.

"Come look at this, Rob!" It shouts again.

"Oh my god, what are those?" another voice, presumably Rob, laughs.

I look over to Gerard, who, by the look on his face, seems to be becoming increasingly enraged as the two voices continue to talk about us.

I look over to the cemetery gates and see two teenage boys, howling with sarcastic laughter at the sight of us. Gerard gently places a hand on my forearm, possessively.

"Gee-"

"It's okay, Frank. I'm gonna go after them," he murmurs, half drowned out by the sound of the chanting and laughing of the two boys at the gates, still gawking at us.

"No you're not." I stop, pulling him back down onto the bench as he stands up.

"And why's that? We can't let them get away with this. You already have to go through this shit with your parents," he huffs, "And I don't want you getting hurt anymore. You don't deserve that."

"No, Gerard, please don't."

"I want you to be safe-"

"And I want you to be safe too, but this isn't the way to go about it," I cut him off. "Look, watch this."

I stand up from the bench and grab the boys' attention. "Hey! Look at this!" I yell.

I grab onto Gerard's coat collar and kiss him passionately, trying to put on a show for them as they watch in utter disgust.

"Oh my god, that's fucking awful," I hear one of them pretend to retch.

"Fuck you! Look what you've done to us!" the other one clutches his stomach, exaggeratedly hunching over, before they both dash off in the opposite direction, bursting out with laughter as soon as they've run out of our view.

"Fuck you too!" I shout, letting go of Gerard, before turning back to him. "That's how you do it."

He looks shocked to say the least. "W-well, you scared them off, I guess." He blushes.

"See, you don't have to beat the shit out of them to scare them away, baby." I peck him on the cheek. "I promise you don't have to protect me all the time. I can fend for myself too, y'know."

He smiles and cups my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks like I'm a small toddler. "You're so cute."

"Get off me!" I giggle, scrunching my nose.

"Nope!" He smiles, kissing me again.

I pull his hands away from my face, remembering we're in the middle of a graveyard. "Oh, there are dead people under here."

"Shit, you're right." He bites his lip, embarrassed. "We should probably stop."

"Yeah," I agree. "Hey, you know what we've never really done before?"

"What?"

"I don't think we've ever looked around this place properly." I stand up, placing my hand out in front of me for Gerard to take hold of it. He slips his fingers in with mine, and we make our way around the small concrete path across the lonely cemetery.

There are two unmarked graves near the bench we sit on that stand out to me in a way. I've always wondered why they're unmarked. What are these people's stories?

There aren't any headstones past those two. Just land, waiting to be filled up with more people, tragically swept away by time.

"Look at that!" he says, pointing to a headstone behind me. I turn around to see several blood-red roses, scattered at the foot of the marble slab. "I didn't notice these
when we first got here."

"Ghost flowers, maybe? How mysterious." I shrug sarcastically, giggling a little. "They're fucking gorgeous, though. Like, look at them- they're so... elegant."

"Yeah, they're really pretty."

"You should totally get me some one time," I joke. "Just make sure my parents don't see, or they'll kick me out for being too 'feminine' or some shit." That part isn't a joke.

"One day, Frankie."

We continue to walk around the graveyard, our hands interlocked. This seems to be the only place we can find constant peace.

Eventually, we stop at the gates. "You wanna go somewhere else?" I ask Gerard.

"Yeah, sure." He nods as we make our way outside. The feeling of exiting the cemetery is surreal. It's like walking into another dimension, leaving behind the tranquillity of the dead and re-entering the normality of life once more.

"Where should we go?"

"The record store?"

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I pull a tattered Life on Mars single from one of the second-hand singles boxes. "You got this one?" I show Gerard.

"Are you saying that just because I'm a pretentious art kid that listens to David Bowie?"

"Maybe."

"Yes, of course I have that one."

I chuckle, continuing to flick through the hundreds of singles, placed neatly against one another in their box. "You know what?"

"What?" Gerard looks up again.

"Working here would be fucking sick. Like- imagine working in a record store. That'd be so cool," I exclaim. "I don't even know why. It'd just be... rad."

"You know what would be even better?"

"Hmm, go on."

"Playing a gig here. Y'know- with that band you wanna form at some point." He tilts his head slightly, signalling my eyes to the small wooden stage in the corner of the room.

The black-painted wooden crates, which have seemingly been drilled together to make a makeshift performance area, are worn and chipped. A single amp sits upon it, turned on its side.

"Yeah, I've been to a few shows here, actually." I say, recalling the several overaggressive punk bands I've seen here in the past, making a scene in front of an audience of primarily middle-aged ex-punks and music fans with no idea how to act. "It'd be pretty cool to play here, I guess."

"Well, if you guys ever need flyers and stuff, I'm your guy," he jests.

"I'm gonna need some actual members first, Gee."

"Well you'll just have to look for some then."

"Give it two years' time, and I'll be in a band- I swear on it."

"Ooh, you swear on it, huh?" he mocks me, playfully.

"Aw, shut up!" I laugh, resuming to look through the singles boxes.

Most of these bands in here are long-forgotten. It makes me wonder who actually listened to all of this and why they were dropped off here in the first place. The majority of them seem to have been collecting dust for a while now, sitting there, waiting to be claimed by some record collector, or a forty-year-old woman, reminiscing her teenage years with singles from 80s boy bands, lost in time.

"Should we leave, then?" Gerard asks.

"Oh- why?"

"We've been here for like half an hour already. Let's get going, okay?"

"Yeah, alright," I shrug.

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