Another unpleasant encounter and Frank's fear of flying.
and families during the holidays this weekend :)
Oh and if you’re in the mood for some smut, check out this one shot I wrote the other day out of boredom. And yes, it’s Frerard ;)
"Flight 103 to London, England is now boarding. Please make your way to the designated gate and have your tickets ready"
The uninterested, monotone voice coming from the PA system a few feet above my head snapped me out of my day dream. The flight had been delayed 45 minutes so my thoughts had taken over my mind out of boredom. To my surprise, I had actually begun to rethink what I was about to do. Do I really want to leave my whole life behind and travel to some far away, strange place where I won't know a soul? What if something happens to me? What if I can't make it on my own? I know I'm searching for some kind of change in my life but what if everything back fires and all I turn out to be is some run away high school dropout living on the streets of London, begging for food?
I jolt up from the uncomfortable plastic seat I had been glued to for the past almost hour and busy myself with fixing the tags on my carry on in an attempt to clear my mind of all these negative thoughts. I spot a man sipping on a coffee in a to-go cup, similar to the one I had been drinking earlier, and I suddenly remember the annoying guy from the bus. I know I don't know his story or what drove him to be drunk and high in the middle of the afternoon, but something about seeing others intoxicated hits a nerve in me and I automatically despise the person. I guess that's just the aftermath of being abused by my junkie of a father for the past seven years of my life. Although I found the whole encounter with the stranger severely irritating, I couldn't help but feel bad for spilling my coffee on him. From the way I acted earlier he probably thinks I did it on purpose. Hopefully he didn't miss his flight or anything. Wait, why do I care so much? I don't even know the guy. Just some stranger I unpleasantly crossed paths with that I will probably never see again.
"Last call for Flight 103 to London, England"
Oh, crap! I was so busy starring off into space like an idiot that I lost track of time. I rush towards my destination for the second time today and take my ticket out of the pocket of my tight black skinny jeans. I hand it to the flight attendant at the front of the boarding area and she hands it back to me with an obvious fake smile on her face. She closes the gate once I step through and I realize that I must of been the last person to board. Great. Hopefully I don't get too crappy of a seat.
I step through the entrance of the midsized plane and look around for an empty seat but find none. I continue down the aisle, meeting eyes with elderly couples, middle aged adults, business men and women, young children, teens around my age, and a very familiar face wearing ridiculously dark sun glasses. Oh no, this moron's on my flight?
By this point I had made it to the back of the plane, right next to the aisle leading to the bathrooms and flight attendants quarters. And of course, the only empty seat left was next to Mr. Hot Shot over there. Who does he think he is going around wearing those sun glasses anyway? We're indoors for fucks sake. I sigh heavily before placing my bag in the over head compartment. He must have heard me because he instantly snapped his head up from starring at his hands that were twisting nervously in his lap and looks at me. I can't see his eyes so I can't read his expression. But judging by the frown placed firmly on his lips, he isn't too happy to see me either.
This day has been complete shit so far and looks like it's only going to get worse. I was still fuming from getting coffee spilled all over my Smashing Pumpkins hoodie and the plain black t-shirt I was wearing underneath. I had to quickly run to the nearest bathroom and change into an Anthrax t-shirt I stole from Mikey before I missed my flight. Luckily it was delayed so I had time. I was looking forward to never seeing that fucking midget ever again and here he is, loading his carry on into the over head compartment, about to take the empty seat next to me. I guess it's not his fault, it's the only one left on the plane. And by the looks of it, he's just as unhappy about the whole situation as I am.
I was relieved to have an empty seat next to me. The steaming hot coffee whatever-his-name-is spilled on me sobered me up and now I'm feeling like shit. My head is pounding and I'm ridiculously thirsty from the cotton mouth the pills gave me. All I wanted to do was doze off during the flight and hopefully sleep these horrible side effects off. But now with someone occupying the seat next to me, I won't be able to fall asleep comfortably. I notice that butter fingers is having trouble reaching the over head compartment door to close it and I decide to offer my assistance. He sure as hell doesn't deserve it after acting like such a prick to me and coating my favorite hoodie in coffee, but I'm gonna be stuck with him for the next seven hours so I might as well try to make peace with him.
"Need some help?" I ask nonchalantly.
He flashes me a glare before saying "No."
"Are you sure? 'Cause you're never gonna reach the compartment door on your own."
I didn't mean for the comment to be offensive but of course he took it the wrong way.
"Spare me the short jokes, I've heard them all."
At that moment, a flight attendant that towers over the boy passes by.
"Here, let me help you with that sir." He closes the compartment easily before waiting for an answer from the boy.
He utters a sarcastic "Thanks" and then throws himself in the seat next to me, scooting as far in the opposite direction as he can manage without falling off.
"I don't bite, you know."
He shots me a glance from the corner of his eye.
I don't know if it was the boy's attitude towards me, the stress of flying cross country by myself, or just the after effects of the drugs I consumed, but I lost it.
"Look, I don't know what the fuck you have against me, but I'm not gonna sit here and take crap from someone I don't even know. First you snap at me on the bus, then you spill your fucking coffee all over me, and now you're acting like a prick just 'cause I offered my help. We're gonna be stuck next to each other for the next couple hours so I'd appreciate it if you found an ounce of decency in that pretty little head of yours and treated me like a normal human being."
Following the strangers sudden outburst is a deep and almost awkward silence. I know he's expecting me to say something, but I'm too dumbstruck to form words right now. Half of me wants to hate the guy in front of me and the other half knows that everything he just said is true. I have been really unfair to him. And did he just call my head pretty?
Realizing that I'm not going to reply any time soon, the black haired teen next to me takes off the sun glasses that I was beginning to think were permanently fused to his face and squeezes
the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb.
"You're making my headache even worse."
I was about to retort to his acquisition when he opens his eyes and makes eye contact with me for the first time without those glasses obscuring his eyes from my view. The first thought that comes to mind is: Holy shit. The eyes that are currently glaring at me with hatred and frustration may just be the most beautiful ones I have ever seen. They are an amazing shade of hazely green and make his face appear that much more gorgeous. You could read all his emotions just by gazing into his glowing orbs. All hostile feelings towards the person sat next to me are forgotten, all I can think now is how undeniably stunning he is. I can also tell by the pain and sadness hidden in his eyes that he's suffering emotionally, maybe even more than I am at the moment. I instantly regret being so horrid to this stranger and decide to try and make things right.
"I'm sorry, I really am. I don't know why I've been such an ass, just having a bad day I guess."
That's obviously a lie, I know exactly why I didn't like him off the bat, but I'm not about to tell him about my father.
"Why don't we just start over? Hey, I'm Frank."
I hold my breath and await his reaction. He seems hesitant at first, but then seems to follow my lead.
Gerard. Whoa, what a unique name. I don't think I've ever met anyone by that name. It suits him. I offer him a weak smile that instantly widens when I gaze down at his shirt.
"Anthrax? Oh my god, I fucking love them!"
He smiles in return before replying.
"Yeah, they're cool. This is my brother's shirt though; I'm more of a Misfits fan myself."
I almost squeal in glee, relieved that we have the same taste in music and therefore something to talk about.
"We're gonna get along just fine."
I say, and he flashes me another adorable smile. Adorable? Gee, Frank, learn to control yourself a little. You're lucky he's even talking to you after the way you treated him, no way is he gonna be interested in you. I bet he's not even gay.
The next half hour is spent rather pleasantly. Gerard and I continue to converse about our favorite bands. We're so caught up in our conversation that we fail to notice that the plane hasn't taken off yet. A man who appears to be in his early fifties and is seated in front of me speaks up and calls over a flight attendant, clearly pissed off.
"What's taking so long? We were suppose to take off half an hour ago."
"I'm sorry sir, the pilot is about to make an announcement concerning the manner."
True to her word, a couple seconds later a husky voice begins to speak over the PA system.
"I apologize for the delay ladies and gentlemen. We were having some trouble with the engine but the matter has been dealt with and we expect to be taking off in the next ten minutes."
A low murmur rises throughout the plane once the pilot has finished speaking and I instantly go pale. When I was younger, I was always afraid of flying. I'd start crying and making a scene when ever my mother forced me on a plane. I thought I had grown out of that, considering that I had handled getting on the plane very calmly. But after hearing the pilot speak about engine problems, all the negative things that could possibly go wrong float into my thoughts and I begin to panic. Gerard obviously notices and looks a bit worried.
"Hey, Frank? Are you okay?"
I swallow hard, forcing saliva down my raspy throat and try to swallow my fears along with it.
A flight attendant makes her way to the middle of the aisle and instructs everyone on how to properly fasten the seat belts. I follow her lead and buckle mine, hands shaking terribly as I try, and fail, to fasten it.
"Are you scared of flying? Is that it?"
I nod once in agreement, half expecting Gerard to make some snide remark about it and get me back for being so rude to him earlier. But to my surprise, he reaches over and helps me fasten the buckle on my seat belt. I feel the back of his hand brush against my arm and a jolt of electricity runs through it, all the way to my head and clouds up my mind in the best way possible. The pleasant contact momentarily distracts me from my panicked thoughts. That is, until I feel the plane move forward and the frames of the windows begin to shake slightly. My breath hitches in my throat and I feel like I might just throw up due to the nauseous, nervous feeling in my stomach. I'm about to escalate to a full blown panic attack until I feel a soft, cold hand on top of my own that is currently clutching on to the hand rest closest to Gerard for dear life. I turn to meet eyes with Gerard and he gives me a reassuring smile.
"I know how you must feel, my younger brother, Mikey, freaks out whenever he needs to fly somewhere too. Just take deep breaths and try to think of something, anything that will distract you enough that you won't think about lifting off. Maybe a girl you find attractive? A girlfriend perhaps?"
I laugh at that last bit before saying,
I catch a hint of...relief? in his eyes before he continues.
"Well, then maybe a boy you find attractive."
I feel the ground underneath us begin to lift, which means in seconds we'll be airborne. Gerard gives my hand a squeeze and I decide to take his advice. For the next few minutes, while the plane is in the process of settling itself in the air, I find myself deep in thought, thinking about a certain pale, raven haired, green eyed angel that currently has a firm grasp on my right hand.
Woo hoo, the Frerard-ness has begun :)
It'd be insanely awesome if you could please R&R and let me know what you think of
the story so far!