Will it ever come?
So...yeah.I've written two chapters today,I'm very proud.(House of Cards,Salute Your Solution,this one will make three.) this is a filler,there is something to come.
Oh yes,and I don't know the Way family motto,so I used mine instead because it's the only one I know.My one is "by virtue and love" and so I just translated it to Italian.
anyone else digging the new Thursday album?
oh and the "la casa più antica e nobile di Via" is Italian for "the most ancient and noble House of Way",which is taken from the House of (Sirius,Regulus) Black in Harry Potter XD
First of the Gang to Die
Frank was dreaming.He was dreaming that he was back in his mother's house when he was a kid.He was tied to a chair,and he could smell something in the air.Strawberries?Smelled like it.Although that was extremely strange,his mother hated strawberries,or any fruit,with an unyielding passion-
He woke up with a jerk when he heard laughing.He was back in his normal,black bed,the one with he shared with his husband.He grinned.He was the new-and-improved Frank Way,twenty three years old,married to the most vicious gangster in the city of Los Angeles.
That settled warmly in his stomach.
The laughter was loud,and gruff,and carrying.He recognized it of that of Bob,who was probably guffawing at Ray or Ray's hair or something Ray did.Frank really enjoyed his new found life and glory-when he wasn't hanging out with his friends,and when he wasn't doing that he was rubbing shoulders with the most powerful people in California state politics,and when he wasn't doing either of those two,he was spending time with the man he loved.
He was really loving life at the moment.It was a feeling he had rarely experienced in the past.
He fell from the bed and made his way to the wardrobe.As a simple affiliate of the gang,and not an actual member,Frank only had to wear suits at occasions and commitments;on normal week days he wore shirts,dress trousers and waistcoats.It was formal,but at least he was allowed to wear his Converse high-tops underneath.
This was also possible;Converse was actually founded in 1908.
After donning a white shirt,black pants and waistcoat,Frank found his way to the dresser.He brushed his hair,twirling it at the sides,and checked the bruises on his stomach.It was a habit he had gotten into recently,after it was brought to his attention that even after three months of recession,James' handiwork still remained (much to Gerard's rage.) There were just two left now;a poppy yellow bruise on his right hip and a purple gash on his ribs.Both were not hideously gaudy but hurt all the same if disturbed.
However,this morning,a note was slipped underneath the glass of whiskey that Gerard kept on the corner of the dresser.The datum was completed in large,swooping italic script that belonged in some eighteenth century reprint of the Bible.Frankie couldn't help but smile at the name used as a greeting.
January Twenty Seventh Nineteen-Thirty-Four
Mister Frank Anthony Way-
Am out for the day,working w/ the Irish for completed ambush against R's next week.Left at five this morning,decided to let you sleep in.
Raymond and Robert are in the kitchen and will spend the day w/ you-I think Raymond is considering acquiring new attire and may spend the day trying them on-in which case you shall consume approximately five hours at the tailor's-trust me,I know him a long time.
There is an alleged bulletin that the R's have recruited new men and are stalking the streets of Los Angeles.For that reason,after reading this,look in the drawer of my bedside table and take what it contains.I am aware that it is not your prerogative but I obtain the divine right to protect you and so help me God if something happens to you,Frank.
I had the object specially made because I feel it will be beneficial in the future.I apologize for my intruding on your pacifism,baby,but if you're married to me we have to lay down some boundaries here.Please use it,sweetheart,and put my mind at ease.
I have left my bracelet on the dresser due to the fact that that is mine and everyone is aware of that.If you are to meet with someone of a foreign gang persuasion they will know you belong to me.I appreciate that you currently wear the ring I gave you,as well as the wedding ring,but please wear it,if only to humor me,honey.
If you are ignorant as of how to the object,ask Raymond,he is an expert.Do not worry,the probability is that nothing will arise but use it just in case.
I shall be home this evening,around ten post meridiem.Rest assured that I will find it extremely hard to get through the day without you,sugar.
All my love,
Frank was surprised at that.Half of the words he didnt understand,and the other half seemed to be angry,the bold outlined by how hard Gerard had pressed on the quill.At times the pressure had been so intense that the nib had scratched through the paper.He started to nibble at his lip when he read about the Romano's,and when he was instructed to use the object within the drawer he was even more worried.
Despite his anxiety,however,he did find the last lines extremely sweet.The last three words had filled Frank with girlish joy,not to mention the fact that Gerard had referred to him as his own surname.And the repeated usage of fond nicknames.
But still.The drawer.
He raced over to the bedside table and yanked open the chest,revealing into view a leather holster.It was smaller and less bulky than Gerard's,but nonetheless carried the same sentimental value.The letters F A W decorated the rings of the compartments,and the same engraving that had been on Gerard's gun was on both of the two pistols-"alla me famiglia".There was a carving knife,with in virtù e l'amore gleaming down the gilt blade.On the handle was insrcibed la casa più antica e nobile di Via.The last chamber was filled with smaller,yet equally as deadly items;silver bullets,seeing stars,brass knuckles,tiny petrol bombs.
Frank regarded it with odd fascination.It looked very expensive,and a lot nicer than other people's,it even had his initials and shit-but he came to the fact that this went against everything he stood for.He hated guns,violence,WMD's in general.
But Gerard had made it quite clear he wanted Frank to wear it.And so he would.
He also took the arm band from the table and let it fall on his wrist.It was reassuringly heavy.
Frank didn't know how to put on the holster himself,so he went into the kitchen,carrying it awkwardly in his hands,as it was too heavy to hold in a palm.
"Frank!"Ray was cooking at the stove,a ridiculous pink frilly apron over his suit."We were getting worried."
"Ray was getting worried,"Bob corrected,who was sitting at the kitchen table,taking a bite from some toast."He refused to believe you were asleep."
"It's fairly plausible,Bob,I mean really-"
"No it's not, it's a Saturday morning and he's in his bedroom,hardly planning a fucking missile attack now is he-"
"Frank,would you like eggs?Bacon?Or you can dine with the culinary retarded like dear Robert here."
"Hey,there ain't nothin' wrong with Coco Pops,Toro,so shut your fat old mouth-"
Frank,grinning,took a seat next to Bob."Uh,yeah,eggs'd be good,Ray,thanks.But I was wondering if you guys would help me with this."
He plopped the holster on the table,letting the compartments fall carefully onto the mantle.
Toast fell from Bob's mouth as he gaped at the sight.
"Where the-where the fuck'd that come from?"
"Bob,must you really use that sort of language-oh my God,Frank,who did you kill?!"
Frank was getting worried now.The fact that they were treating him like a criminal terrified him.
"Gerard left me a note this morning saying that I should take this today and I don't-"he sighed brokenly-"I don't know anything about guns."
"Holy shit,"Bob whispered,"can I touch it?"
"Of course,"Frank gabbled."Why?What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing,"Ray breathed,"but you gotta fucking...fucking Magnums."
A .357 Magnum was the newest gun at the time
"What does that mean?"
"Guns,"Bob said,nearly in a trance,admiring the barrels,"he got you the best guns a guy can get."
"But I-I don't know how to use a gun!"Frank stammered."I don't even know what a...what a...what did you call it?"
"Right,"he said,exasperated."I don't like guns."
"Coro's right,though,"Ray said grimly,"Romano's are up and at it again.We're gonna be on double time from now on."
"What does that mean?"
"More midnight raids,more random killing sprees,more meetings."Ray sighed."Dammit.This is really gonna blow."
"Well,we have had it easy for the last few months,"Bob admitted,"so it was bound to get heavy again."
That was bad news to everyone,especially Frank.He hated the fact that he would have to be around exploding things and dying people for the next few weeks,and that Gerard would be more busy than ever.
"Anyway,"Bob brought Frank back to reality,"that's one helluva belt ya got there.Must really wanna protect you."
"But what good will it do?I can't even hold a gun."
"S'not about that,"Bob said,snatching Ray's own breakfast when his back was turned,"it's about how you look.Gerard knows that.That's gonna look beast around you."
"Oh,er,yeah.But how do you-"
"Here,like this."Bob unbuttoned his jacket to flash his belt."Just sling it around your waist."
Frank took the belt in his hands and clipped it around his hips.It felt oddly snug and heavy on his abdomen,like ten normal belt buckled upon each other.
"Is it meant to be this loose?"Frank queried as Ray lay the plates on the table.
"But I look like a douche bag."
"You're meant to.The more of a douche you are,the more dangerous you appear."
"Oh."He felt more empowered now,as he leaned forward and it slipped down his thigh."And thank you,Ray."
"No problem,Frank.Bob,did you spill orange juice on your shirt?"
"Dammit,Bob,I ironed that yesterday!That was so white yesterday it fucking hurt to look at!"
"Don't get your panties in a bunch,Ramona,it's all good."He dabbed at the bright stain with a napkin.It didn't go away but stayed the exact same."See?Perfect!"
Ray scoffed and began to scrub the dishes.Bob and Frank casually ate their breakfast.
"So,Toro,what's this I hear about you getting a new suit today?"
"Yeah,what's wrong with that?"
"Oh...nothing.Nothing.Just...y'know,we will be there for about five hours."
Frank smiled a small beam as he remembered Gerard's notations.He decided to hush and eat the remainder of the breakfast.
"It will take as long as it takes,"Ray muttered vaguely,settling at the table with some pancakes.
Bob rolled his eyes."You make it sound like you're torturing someone.Although that could be the case."
"Oh shut up,Bob,I'm just getting a fucking suit,it's not like it's gonna be a trek or something."
"Alright,alright,no need to get shirty,Ramona-"
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"
"-just settle down now.Shouting won't solve anything,Ray-Ray."
"Oh God,that's almost worse."He finished eating."Here,hand me that slip of paper over there,I'm getting a new belt as well."
"One as swanky as Frank's?"Bob giggled."You should get a pink one,Ray."
Frank glanced up,grinning."With flowers."
Both men were heavily surprised that the boy made a joke.Nonetheless,Bob laughed a hearty cackle.
"And butterflies.Ooh,ooh,and sparkles!"
Ray glowered at them."I will stab you both with tailoring pins."
"And maybe a compartment for the anti-PMS pills,"Bob guffawed,"looks like you could use em now,Toro."
"Bob,that's just obscene-"
"Are you wearing make-up?"
Frank spit out some of the cereal he had been chewing,and looked to Ray,who was scowling.
"I have skin issues."He set down his fork."That is all."
"Is that Dior foundation?"Frank asked timidly.
Bob's entire muffin fell out of his mouth.Ray beamed.
"Yeah,"Ray answered."Why?Do you-"the beam widened-"use it?"
"Sometimes,"Frank admitted."It's very good."
"Well,Bob,there you have it.You are the only one here who is not slightly in touch with his feminine side."
"Ray,at least Frank is open about it,"Bob said,"for God's sake,you're still married to a woman."
"Oh,fuck off,"Ray muttered.He looked to the other two."We ready to go?"
"Okay,Ray-Ray,Frankie,if we all have our tampons and our concealers,let's go."
"Powder blue.Definitely powder blue."
"No way,man,Frankie is a liar.Bleu de France all the freaking way."
"Oh,Bryar,shut your face!Powder blue really brings out your eyes,Ray,it looks great!"
"No,no,no,no,no.Bleu de France is better."
"I'm the gay one,I should be the fashion adviser!"
Roberto Costello,the finest Italian tailoring service in all of Downtown Los Angeles,looked onto the scene with the same reaction Frank had obtained with the holster;avant-garde enthrallment.He recognized all three of them;the guy with the fro accompanied Way almost everywhere,and the blond man had been busted for possession of explosive arms two years ago,but had escaped the stockade by shooting up the pigs.And then,then there was the boy.Famed in song and story.
He was smaller and skinnier than had been said-Costello cast his expert eye over him and guessed about five four,maybe about one hundred and thirty pounds,all in all much too little for a man,regardless of stature.He had chocolate brown hair,twisted at the ear,and for the full three hours the group were there Roberto noted that he bit on his lip constantly.The skin was ghostly pale,and he wore the all-black ensemble that members of that family always did.
The boy-Frank,Roberto had been told,but who was currently being addressed as Frankie by the blond-was sitting on one of the stools next to the mirror,chatting and bickering with both men amicably.Roberto was sensible enough not to badger or irritate them-despite the fact that guns were meant to be forbidden,almost every customer belonged to either gang,and so brought full holsters along with them.He saw with alarm that the kid was wearing a 16 gauge handgun duty holster.He stiffened immediately,and decided to intervene.
"Is everything alright,gentlemen?"He asked quietly,skimming over to the three and smoothing down his hair.
"Which do you think looks better?"Bob quizzed,and the boy started to giggle."The powder blue tie or the Bleu de France?You gotta say the French,man,just look at him-"
Bob was cut short by the short tinkle of a bell.Someone else was in the store.Or several men,by the sound of it.
"Sonuvabitch,"Bob whispered,staring at the men,now entreating into their space.They were all wearing grey,and the guns slung across their hips said a lot more than if they had shouted from the heavens.
"Gentlemen,"the tallest greeted,chomping a cigar between his teeth,a cloak hanging on his shoulders."Always a pleasure."
"De Luca,"Ray spat,putting down both ties to stare at him in the same begrudged trance that Bob held.
"Leave us to talk,please,"the tall,dark haired man instructed.The tailor ran away,closing the door to the private room.He dived into his staff room and locked himself inside.
"Bryar.Toro."The man nodded at them respectively."And this must be Frank."
Frank's lip was bleeding from the amount of chewing.
"Of course,I should know,"he said softly,"you did steal him from our family."
Now a leather glove was resting on Frank's shoulder.He began to shake.
"You get your fucking hands off him,"Bob growled,guns drawn,"or I'll blow your fucking bollocks off."
"Such language!"de Luca laughed."So typical of you,Robert."
Bob didn't move,but Frank could hear his heavy breathing across the room.
"I hope your mongrel family knows that we will get him back.And when we do,we will kill him."
"Over my dead body,"Ray seethed.
"That could be arranged,Toro,"his two henchmen chuckled behind him.
Then something whipped Frank across the face,catching his eye.He cried out in pain and whimpered,before being grabbed again by de Luca.
"GET THE FUCK OFF HIM!"Bob roared,before being tackled to the ground by the henchmen,Ray by the other.Frank felt tears rolling down his cheeks-he was proper fucked now.He could feel his eye tightening and cracking where he had been punched.
de Luca smiled a sick grin and flipped a knife from his belt.He pinned Frank down and grabbed his arm.Iero whimpered and struggled,but the man was much too strong.The blade inched nearer and nearer his skin,and eventually broke it.Fresh scarlet flooded Frank's arm and gushed down the seat.He was too shocked to scream.
"You're my bitch now,"de Luca spat,"Imma fuck you senseless once I get the chance."
As soon as de Luca was finished carving,he retracted the knife and left the chamber,followed by sprinting partners.
"FRANK!Frank,are you alright?Fucking God-"
Then Ray caught sight of what had chiseled into Frank's forearm;a red,pumping,vibrant R.
Next chapter:Gerard gets angry.