The plan is set into action!
Gerard bites into his cereal bar, his mind emptying of all thoughts. He zones out; his surroundings are blurry and his hearing impaired. It's as if the world has slowed down around him, and all that matters is his rhythmic chewing and the soft snap and crack of the cereal as it breaks between his teeth.
He takes another bite and chews nervously, then stares regrettably down at his plate. Underneath his burnt toast lies the nuts. Peanuts, to be precise. The devil's food, as far as Gerard's concerned. He's about to risk his life to gain it back, which to him seems idiotic. But Bob was sure it was an excellent idea. A stroke of genius is what he had said as he walked Gerard to breakfast.
"G-Gerard?! You look white! Have you taken the nuts? Can you breathe?!" Frank whispers frantically, sitting next to Gerard and pushing the older man's face up to look at him.
Gerard shakes his head and knots his eyebrows, before placing the bar down and crossing his arms. Just like a stubborn child does when they're refused ice cream. "I don't want to take them, Frank." Gerard says.
Frank sighs and rips open his own cereal bar, courtesy of Marty, before studying Gerard's face further. He looks tired, very tired, and ill. Extraordinarily ill. His eyebrows remain in their tight knot, his nose is scrunched up and his back is tense. "It'll be fine, I'll get Bob immediately." Frank reassures, his cheeks like a Chipmunks; filled to the brim with food. He swallows down the clump of food painfully, then smiles a lopsided, worried smile.
Gerard scoffs, un-knots his face then exhales deeply. "Don't say things you can't know for sure. You think you know everything!" He huffs, before munching the final bite of his bar.
Frank tilts his head to the side and frowns. "You don't know me, Gerard."
"You're Frank Iero. You're orphaned and you tried robbing a bank. You're very sarcastic and you find yourself funny, and you're mischievous." Gerard runs a finger around the edge of his glass, staring down into the murky water. It's rippling slightly, probably due to the heavy footsteps of the prisoners. Gerard cringes as something floats to the top. He pushes the plastic glass away. "What else is there to know?"
Frank smiles sardonically. "Well for starters, I'm gay."
Gerard's jaw almost hits the floor. Almost. He did not, in any way, pin Frank as gay.
"I also support the Giants, and my personality is far more complex than you give me credit for." Frank finds himself grinning from ear to ear as Gerard turns to look at him, still shocked from his confession. "I have a bad temper and I play guitar. When I first arrived in prison and saw who else is here, I thought, 'Fuck it, I'll show the angry, swearing side of my personality'. I'm actually all for animal rights, and human rights, obviously." Frank sniffs and bites into his cereal bar, watching emotions unfold on Gerard's face. First there's shock, then a slight pride, then consideration, adoration, admiration and finally, shock. Again.
"Wh.. Really?" Gerard asks, watching Frank chew smugly. "You're really gay? And for animal rights?" As Frank nods, Gerard blows out a puff of air and laughs shakily. "Didn't have you pinned as that kinda guy."
Frank rolls his eyes but smiles. "Just eat your nuts. I'll get Bob now, okay?" Frank takes a bite out of Gerard's toast and winks once, before getting up and walking to the door, still clutching his cereal bar.
Gerard takes a deep breath and looks down to his plate, before budging away his toast. The nuts reveal themselves and taunt Gerard; calling out to him in a hushed, breathy, mocking tone.
Gerard scowls at them, only worrying about his sanity for a split second, before he picks up all three and shoves them in his mouth. He swallows them immediately before panic washes over him, and he feels the urge to chuck up. However, just as his jumbled thoughts increase in number and his chest starts thumping with anxiety and worry, his lips start to tingle. It's almost instantaneous. His breathing becomes erratic and fast-paced as a sense of impending doom washes over him and his throat starts tightening and clogging up. As Gerard's palms start to sweat and clamp up due to the overwhelming amount of anxiety, he starts clawing desperately at the table. His eyes widen as his breathing becomes labored, thick and heavy.
Gerard starts wheezing, and a lump, which he's sure has nothing to with the reaction, builds in his throat. Gerard's stomach churns unpleasantly as his throat closes in more and more, and his mouth starts tingling with his lips. Just as his head starts spinning and he starts to feel faint, Frank appears with Bob, rushing to the table with a couple more police officers. He tries to talk to them, he really does, but as his skin gets red and his throat closes up completely, Gerard reaches a point where his feeling of impending doom grows more certain, and he feels as if he'll definitely die.
Little does he know, he's right.