The soul that could sing a million words and never be able to say half of what he felt inside. (Frerard)
Typical coffeeshop romance. Frerard.
Gerard misses Frank.
He can’t hear Frank’s heart. And he can’t hear anyone but himself. Not the overly made-up teenagers or the suit-wearing multi-tasker. (Frerard-ish)
I cant think of a summary review!!!
Eyes don't lie. Not.
She's talking to the fans. Mini oneshot
from an icon
Hollywood 'It' girl, Trinity Fox is in over her head. Can Frank help her clean up the mess?
(Frerard) I flung myself toward the beam, leaning over and expecting to see his body sprawled below in a mix of materials that nobody should ever be exposed to, but there was nothing, not a single ...
Frerard in mind; no names mentioned. Poem/fic type thing.
At the beginning they were just as they had always been, friends, they always had been and they thought they always would be just friends.