How will Frank react to Gerards rude question? Is there going to be any awkwardness between them? Gerard wants answers. Now.
"Tell me." He prompted. "Tell me whats wrong. You're very jumpy and your acting so weird."
"No I'm not!" Frank protested. He was getting scared, now. Gerard suddenly seemed so much more stern, so much more angry. "Or maybe all homo's- I mean hobo's! Maybe all hobo's are like this, huh? Maybe you shouldn't pick things up from the street. Just let me go and forget about me, okay?" Frank tried to go for the front door, but Gerards arm wrapped around his waist as he tried to walk past.
"You aren't going anywhere. It's so cold outside, you'll be frozen to death."
"It's the day I've been anticipating since I got kicked out of home!" Frank almost screamed into Gerards face. "Now let go!" With one forceful push, Frank was straddling Gerard, pinning him to the sofa.
"You never said... I mean, you've never lead on to believe that you were... you are... suicidal." Gerard was a lot more shocked, even sympathetic, than angry. Maybe he'd been depressed at some point in his life too? But how impossible was this? Gerard had everything! Money, talent, a band. Frank was having none of it.
He leant forward, his face just a breath away from Gerards. "There are lots of things I haven't told you, now let. Me. Go." Gerard bit his lip, before giving in.
"Fine." He said, angry again. "You wanna freeze to death, be my guest." Frank got off of him, and Gerard opened up the door. The cold draft brought Frank back to his senses. Oh god, now he'd fucked everything up! He knew he had some form of anger problem, he didn't have to tell Gerard he wanted to die. He didn't have to pin him like that! When Gerard asked about his 'problem' why couldn't he have just laughed like any ordinary person would? Oh, thats why. Because ordinary people have office jobs and wives. He was homeless and irrivocably gay.
"Well? GO ON THEN!" Gerard shouted, his face as red as his angry coloured hair. "Or have you lost all that bravery, now?"
"I- I'm lost, Gerard..." Frank mumbled under his breath. "If you had any idea what things are like for me, you wouldn't be kicking me out."
"What was that? Are you mumbling about me? I told you to go!" Gerard stepped away from the door, his fists balled. Frank took it as a good sign to run, before Gerard got violent. Forgetting his two coats, he fled the apartment, down the stairs and onto the street. The air was bitterly cold, numbing his feet through his socks, but he didn't care. He had been kicked out, again. Maybe he wasn't meant for civilisation. There might have been a place, somewhere far, far away, where people like him could go, right? Frank didn't care. He ran hard and fast, away from his problems once again. The snow was falling harshly now, his thin, white shirt going seethrough. Through it, he saw his tattooed body. All of his failures, his rebellions, everything that ever went wrong in his life, was following him. It was stuck to his body, clinging like a shadow. Why was he like him? Angrily, he clawed at the tattoos, and soon he was also covered in scratches. He slung his arms over his back, trying to tear away the Jack o'lantern. He was aware he'd opened up some of his grazes from the fight, the day before. Well, it was only the day before because it was the early hours of the morning now. Frank fought with himself, clawing and gripping and tearing at his skin, until once again, he was covered in blood. He collapsed onto the floor, screaming out as the cuts collided with the cold of the snow and the rigidness of the ground.
Thats when he saw it. Just in front of him was a small-time comic book shop. He crawled onto all fours, the way he deserved to walk, and crashed into the front door.
"Gerard!" He cried, tears falling down his face. "Gerard, I'm sorry! I fucked up! Forgive me! Please, dear god, let him forgive me!" Then he collapsed, the snow somehow freezing yet burning his limbs at the same time. How he wished he might just die there... alone... how he deserved his death...
"Frank? Shit, Frank!" A familiar voice cried. "I'm sorry! Oh my god, you're all bloody! Come home, you come home right now!" Arms picked him up from the doorstep, but then set him down again. "But... I'll loose my job if I don't open up today. Right, looks like you'll be working with me." The arms came back, flinching away this time. "You're so cold. Frank? Wake up. Wake up!"
One of Franks eyes slid open, to see a man he barely recognised. It couldn't possibly be Gerard, could it? He looked so different today. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he was even wearing the same clothes as the previous night. Over his shoulder, Franks two coats were slung.
"G- Gerard? Gerard, I'm sorr-"
"Don't be sorry, I'm the one who should be sorry. I was just curious, and... Frank! Don't go to sleep!" Gerard picked Frank up, opening the store and bringing him inside. Frank knew he was falling in and out of conciousness. The only question was, after last nights breakdown, was he going to be okay? I mean, he'd probably live but... there'd be some sort of emotional scar. It wasn't like he had enough already.