I was dreaming about being a successful artist, living in a large mansion, when my brother Mikey woke me up, whispering my name and shaking my shoulder. I would have told him to leave me alone, but I didn't have the strength to even open my mouth at that moment. I saw a pair of shoes - different and much more expensive than any of the others I had seen at that place - and I looked up. I noticed a young man, around nineteen, looking at me. He was defiantly from a rich family, he looked clean, and I wondered why he was in such a filthy place. As I stared at him, I noticed that he was the most striking man I had ever seen. One of the best things about him was his hands. If I had charcoal and something to draw on, I would have drawn his hands over and over. Suddenly, Mikey spoke.
"Gerard, this is Frank. He's going to help you get better!"
So his name was Frank. I liked it. It was probably short for something elegant, though as a rich person like him would never have such a common name. I closed my eyes briefly, and when I reopened them, Frank was smiling down at me. He placed a hand on my forehead; I sighed and closed my eyes again - his hands were so soft. After Frank asked me (and sometimes Mikey) questions, he went silent for a while. I opened my eyes and looked at Mikey, who locked eyes with me and shrugged.
"Frank?" My croaky voice asked.
Frank looked at me, before grinning and extending an arm. "Stand up."
"Why? I'm, not okay." I frowned, and then started to cough.
"Trust me?" Frank asked, biting his lip.
I nodded, taking his hand. I tried standing but to no prevail, as I ended up falling back down into an uncomfortable position (my knees tucked up to my chest and one arm nearly being pulled out of its socket). Mikey giggled at me and I glared at him, earning a glare back. I continued glaring at my brother until I felt an arm wrap around my waist. I was being pulled to my feet by Frank. I could feel a blush creeping onto my cheeks, as I wasn't used to being held this way. Frank smiled at me and started to walk, going slow so I could keep up.
I enjoyed helping Gerard walk. I could hold a beautiful man's waist without looking suspicious? Great! I went to say something to Gerard, when Mikey spoke.
"Where are you two going?"
I grinned at Gerard, before simply answering "Home."
Gerard stared at me like I were odd. "I don’t have a home."
"You will soon. And you too, Mikey."
Mikey and Gerard just looked. Looked and looked at me, even when we were out the room. I smiled all the way, happy that I could help even two people in that awful place.
Mikey and Gerard weren't the only people that were staring at me - everyone else was, too. But I didn't care. I was grinning all the way to the carriage - even when my mother got into the carriage and glared at me, I still couldn't care less (even though I had stopped grinning - I didn't want to die young).
My mother took the ride home suprisingly well, though I should have known she would shout at me when we got home.
"I can't believe you Francis!" She shouted, as soon as Gerard and Mikey had been taken to their new rooms. "Taking two ... lowerclass people from the workhouse? I should have known better, letting you go there! What will we do with them?"
"I'm going to take care of Gerard. I'm going to make sure he gets better. I'm going to let Mikey have a chance at having a family"
Mother went quiet and nodded. "Don't let them leave their rooms if guests are here."
I frowned, but nodded. I knew I could change that rule once the time came.