NO FUN CLUB

6

Gerard was really trying to ignore his crush on Paco.

He really was. He knew it would go nowhere, and he'd only get hurt.

But it was almost impossible to ignore it when every night as he came in, Paco would greet him with the fucking biggest and cutest smile, and throughout the night he'd pull faces in an attempt to make him laugh, or would look at him, brows raised and then laugh. How could someone be so fucking attractive?

But Gerard had to remind himself that at the end of the day, he'd leave with the tall guy who worked in the back of the house, or some random guy.

He had to remind himself he would never do that with Paco, and the thought depressed him a little. But he tried his best not to show it.

When he was cleaning that night, he could hear Frank talking on the phone. He was talking to a guy named Victor, and giggling, and he said he couldn't wait to see him.

It hurt. He would never notice you anyway, Gerard reminded himself and kept mopping the floors. He knew Jamia was looking at him, but he ignored her too. He just wanted to go home and feel sorry for himself for being so stupid and liking a guy who was so out of his league.

After clocking out, he headed out through the back door, and Jamia was smoking with Paco – and a very tall, attractive guy whose hands were all over Paco. 'Hey, you wanna join?' Jamia asked, offering a cigarette. Gerard noticed Frank was busy kissing the guy, so he didn't even consider it. 'I'm fine. I'm actually really tired, so I'm going home.'

'Okay. See you tomorrow, then.'

Gerard couldn't sleep all night, though. He couldn't stop thinking about what would it feel being the one kissing Frank, and going out on dates with him, and maybe their bodies pressing against each other too close, but he stopped before he got hard.

It hurt more knowing that was the only kind of sexual experience he'd have, and it depressed him more, and that was enough turn off.

He'd end up alone forever, watching everyone else fuck and kiss and be happy with someone else, while he just watched from the sidelines, as if he wasn't allowed to be part of anything. He was just a spectator.

And he was tired of it.

He was tired of feeling like that.

It hurt to be alone. It wasn't just mentally. It physically hurt. Like something was pressing hard on his chest and he couldn't breathe. Like his body ached, longing to be touched but there was no one there. He just wanted someone to hold his hand all night and tell him it was going to be okay, but no one did.

He cried himself to sleep, not sure when he actually dozed off.

He thought he'd feel better by morning, but the anxiety just got worse.

It was going to be one of those days.

***

Gerard's anxiety was almost under control.

He'd lived with it long enough to know how to hide it in public, and at home he'd focus on video games or comics or sleeping through the day to ignore it.

But there were days when it was just impossible.

And it got so bad to the point it turned into a depressive episode and the suicide thoughts would creep in because what was the point of living a life by himself. When his parents had each other, and Mikey had a different girlfriend every week, and he'd still be alone at the end of the day. When he could barely make friends and the ones he made, had a significant other too. So it was just him, by himself, for the end of time.

And it hurt.

It hurt.

He was so tired of the pain, and that's all it was.

Why did it matter so much to him? If he knew he couldn't have it, why couldn't he just move on without it? There were people who lived their whole lives without a partner and they were perfectly okay.

But he was not one of them.

He was a fucking hopeless romantic. And listening to music, writing stories about lovers who died together after running away, it was impossible not to want something like that too. As tragic as it was.

So he cried all day, didn't eat anything, and spent an hour in the bathroom, staring at a razor blade, fighting the urge to use it.

He almost considered going to work, but he knew he couldn't do it. He'd be in a bad mood and probably start crying in front of everyone. And to be honest, seeing Frank wouldn't help. It wasn't his fault. He was just too fucking attractive and it was impossible not to notice. Or was it his fault for being nice and getting his hopes up?

In any case, he decided he had no choice. He hated to use his mental health as an excuse to call in sick, but he was sick, he had the right. So he called the bar.

'No Fun Club, how can we help you?' Out of everyone, the last person he needed to hear was Paco.

'It's me, Gerard.'

'Oh, what's up, man?'

'Nothing, just to let you know that I can't come to work.' He paused, not sure how to continue because that's how Paco always made him feel. 'I'm not feeling well.'

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. Just a cold or something, but I feel weak.'

'It's fine, man. Just take care okay?'

'Okay.' Why was he so nice?

Gerard stayed in bed all night, watching horror movies. Throughout the night, Jamia texted him to check on him. are you okay?

Yes, just sick, Gerard replied.

Paco was rude to you or something? Cause I can beat the hell out of him if you need me to.

Lol no, I wish he was rude to me, though. he's so fucking nice sometimes it's hard not to like him more

Geez, you really like him

Gerard sent him the see no evil monkey emoji. Anyway, I'm just not feeling well.

Okay, I hope you get better <3

He almost called Mikey to tell him, but he knew he'd give him a speech, so decided against it, and just took a nap.

He ended up sleeping through the night, and woke up at nine in the morning the next day, still feeling like shit, but it felt like he was finally reaching the shore and could finally breathe.

He still didn't feel like doing anything, but he could at least eat something, so he grabbed a donut and coffee, and sat to watch Netflix with Ray.

When he made it to work, Jamia asked him if he was feeling better, and Gerard nodded, because he was.

And then Paco came out from behind, and seeing Gerard there, he almost threw himself at him. 'How are you?'

'Better,' he said, in a monotone voice.

'Good. I missed you last night.'

'You don't have to say that if you don't mean it,' Gerard insisted.

'But I do!'

'Whatever.' But he couldn't help smiling at him. Fuck, he was a lost cause.