Would he still be like this is he knew there was a lonely, poor, hooker under his roof?
He needs to go home. I say to my Boss. Greg, he's called. He's sympathetic when it comes to family problems but with this situation, he's not beinf very co operative. Gerard he's a grown man. He can take care of himself. You have priorities. Number one should be this job. The exact reaction i had feared yet expected all the same. I don't know why i even offered him my home. He probably already has somewhere anyway. I know nothing about this person. Who was that horrible man? Why was he telling me to remove the smaller's tattoos? Surely if the smaller man wanted his tattoos removed he could've asked me himself, plus he looked terrified. It just didn't fit together.
Look Greg, something isn't right about this. He needs to be helped okay? And i might be his only hope. I say trying to reason with the determind businessman. His business is his lifeline pretty much.Kind of the way Sophia depends on me for our money, his wife is exactly the same. The only difference is he has two kids to put through private education and a mansion to keep running. Yeah, I know the dream life but it's also a fucking curse for the one making the money. He comes into work when he's sick, he came in when his Dad passed away. Fucking effort. Gerard, you're needed here. He says eyeing me with an irratated glare. I leave his office pissed off at his selfishness to find Frank sitting with his head in his hands. Fuck it.
We arrive at my house after a silent, awkward drive home. And of course Sophia and her mother are playing scrabble at the coffee table. Hey Soph, Hello Mrs Ridley. I say with zero enthusiasm. Sophia is enough work, her mother's a fucking nightmare. Can i talk to you for a second Gerard? Sophia asks pointing to the kitchen, treating me like some kind of lapdog. I obey of course, like i really have a choice. Yes? She stares before me with an evil twinkle to her grey green eyes. She was attractive, it was just her personality.
This isn't working
Okay then, go home with your mother.
No, i'm not breaking up with you Gerard. You just need to change. Pathetic music blasting in your car, ridiculous clothes. You need to grow up a bit.
I grew up ages ago. I'm only twenty three regardless.
Yes and i'm twenty two but i am mature and adult. You just think you're still fifteen.
I leave the kitchen and return to where i left Frank. He looks shifty as Sophia's Mother stares him out. Come on Frank. Let's get you sorted out. I say ignoring the two women.
I'm getting sick of them both.
Okay, you take a shower and i'll get your clothes in the wash. You can borrow my dressing gown until they're finished Gerard smiles switching on the shower. The temperature dial is this one. Turn it left for hot and right for cold. He's being really nice to me. He varely knows me though. Would he still be like this is he knew there was a lonely, poor, hooker under his roof? G-Gerard I say the name for the first time. There's something foreign about that name on my lips but i like it. I like the sound of his name, i like the butterflies i get when i think of the person associated with that name. Luke was like him, before he started to beat me. What if he's the same? What if he's going to use me as a cash production tool aswell? I don't think i could take that.
I climb into the shower, the hot water running down my body and gradually turning purple with dried blood and excess scabs falling away. The matted, greasy hair of my head begins to feel heavy with the water cleansing away the past. Working it's soothing embrace through every memory and comforting me in the best way possible. Ending the phyical pain, my tense muscles become looser and the roughness of my skin begins to wear away. I haven't felt this content in years.
I cling onto the shower curtain as i rest my feet on the furry mat by the side of the bath tub. I sigh, wrapping the huge dressing gown around me. There is a knock on the door. Frank? Frank? Are you done? It's Gerard. I reply yes with a tired, grovelled voice. Gerard opens the door and smiles at me. Your clothes are in the wash, i've got you something to eat in the bedroom. He says. He really is a saint. A complete life saver.
Thankyou. I reply simply, really looking forward to actually eating something for the first time in days. He beckons me through into his bedroom and sits on the bed. He pats the space next to him and i reluctantly join him on the soft mattress. We didn't have much in but i though this would be okay for now. He says passing a plate across to me. Rice, Salad and a Mushroom omelette. I couldn't contain myself then, my emotions got the bestter of me, nobody had ever cared before now. I began to cry.
He's crying. Frank, what's wrong? I say shuffling closer to him. Fuck, i'm awful at comforting people. He's fragile too. What if i'm too full on? I don't want him to leave, he could get hurt. I place one of my hands flat on his back and begin to rub it gently. At first i feel him tense, but then he relaxes, moving closer and resting his head in the crook of my neck as his warm breath tickles my skin.
Slowly but surely he calms down. S-sorry Gerard. He says between shaky breaths. I stayed silent for a few moments just letting him calm down. Hey, don't be sorry. Frank? I think you might need to tell me about yourself. If that's okay. I need to help you but i have to know your situation. I say worried that i've asked way too soon. He's obviously been damaged by something. Something scarring. Something awful. Part of me wants desperately to know what happened yet another part of me is terrified and reluctant to know, because who could hurt someone so beautiful?
Hey, don't be sorry. Frank? I think you might need to tell me about yourself. If that's okay. I need to help you but i have to know your situation* Gerard says calmly, although the hitched breath in his chest tells me he's scared to ask. I know i have to tell him though. It's better out than in or so they say.
He passes the plate over to me again and allows me to remain close to his chest. Sitting comfortably in his lap. I eat in silence, savouring every bite until every last crumb of the meal is gone. The hunger is still there, yet part of it has completely disappeared. Not only the physical hunger but the hunger of having someone to care. Wait, he might just pity me. This may all be him feeling sorry for me might it? I don't want sympathy. I don't want to be pitied, i just want someone to actually give a damn.
He takes the plate from me and put it to one side. Now, Frankie. Tell me about yourself. This is the part i've been dreading.