The grass is not always greener on the other side.
For those that asked though, I am thinking of doing something with ‘Trust Me’, but it will have to wait until all of this is done with. In addition, a one shot sequel to ‘Reflection’ should be up this weekend!
Chapter Six: Angela
While Gerard spent his time withering away in the quiet imprisonment of his home, Frank was not so silent. Making good use of his advantage over Gerard, a cell phone, he spread word to the rest of the Iero clan as to what had happened and his current location.
He was, in fact, staying at a friends home in the city not more than one hour away from his former home.
Angela was a younger girl he had befriended through their old manager Brain. She was a lesbian -- she left no doubts about that in her appearance. Her skin was dark, her eyes slanted, and her hair was propped up in a stylish faux mohawk. She had agreed to take Frank in for the time being, but she could not seem to see eye to eye with him on the reasons that he had left in the first place.
"You should have given him a chance to explain." she would remind him from time to time, in a condescending tone that reminded him of his grandmother.
"What is there to explain? I saw what I saw, there's no way I misunderstood two guys naked on a bed." Frank would snap back testily, his default reaction to conversation topics that he disliked.
"Maybe he had a good reason." She would then say thoughtfully.
"What good reason is there for cheating?" Frank would scoff, "I never treated him badly enough to justify what he did."
To which she would reply "Well maybe he doesn't see it that way. But I guess you'll never know since you didn't let him explain. Maybe his reasons might have been stupid, but at least you wouldn't be wondering like you are now."
To which Frank would mumble something annoyed and begrudging sounding, but have no further response. And Angela would feel like her point had been made, thus dropping the subject until they were reminded of it next.
Yet what Frank always failed to mention during this routine was the fact that there was still the factor of fear in his reasoning. Sure, he had thought of going back to their house and talking it out with Gerard, granted that he was still there.Gerard would tell him his usual sob story, his bottom lip quivering and his eyes soaked in heartache. The sightwould break Frank and all of his resolve, and instinct would set in. Frank would give him a hug and tell him it was alright, and all was forgiven. They would have make up sex, and while he moaned under Frank's caress, Frank would think about Gerard making those noises for some other man, but he wouldn't say anything because of the sensation of Gerard's anus wrapped around his cock, or the sexy way he looked when he was drowned in sweat. And then everything would be the same, like nothing had happened at all.
Well I'm tired of Gerard's sob stories.
...I think I might just be tired of Gerard.
Frank sighed, his phone vibrating in his pocket. He fumbled for it, seeing Ray's name in bold on top of smaller text that read: "Dude what the fuck is all this I've been hearing about Gerard cheating?"
Frank tapped on his touchscreen, "yea, its true. where did you hear?"
Suddenly there was a small, soft amount of pressure on his leg. He looked down and his own green eyes were met with chartruse orbs that looked back up at him admist hairs of orange and white. The cat.
Frank never really liked cats.
"Schrodinger!" he heard Angela's voice carry out from her bedroom. The cat leapt away from Frank and ran for his owner, while Frank scowled behind it.
His phone sounded off again. He picked it up to read Ray's reaction:
"THE FUCK?!? I can’t believe that shit. I heard from Ricky, your whole family is in an uproar dude. I’m coming over on Friday. Where you at?”
Frank replied that he was at Angela’s, and he exited out of the messaging app. He thought for a second about what Ray had said. He had notified his family, and while they did seem upset, he had never thought it would become an issue with them. That kind of thing was always reserved for the press and the magazines.
A small circle that sat on top of his phone icon reminded him that he had unheard voicemails. His thumb hovered over it lightly, hesitated, hovered again and then retreated.
I’ve had enough sob stories.
…but what if its something important? What if something has happened to him?
Frank shook away the pestering thoughts. He was just worried about Gerard like he always was. It was a thing of habit by now.
Long before their romance, his concerns for Gerard had always been a large influence in his day to day decisions – even in things where Gerard really did not belong at all. It had been like this with Ray and Mikey as well. Gerard was problematic, and always seemed to be giving people things to worry about. Frank wondered if they were the ones at fault for constantly continuing to care, and leading him into thinking things would always be that way.
Even Mikey had begun to distance himself after a while. Gerard never understood why. Frank loved him too much to tell him.
You still love him.
He would, at least, admit that he did miss Gerard – or at least certain things about him. He missed having someone to hold at night, and Angela nor her cat were not exactly options for replacements. Yes, he could hug a pillow or something of that sort. Yet it was Gerard’s scent jammed against his nostrils through locks of red hair that he missed. He missed his cute quirks and even the little things that annoyed him. He missed making him breakfast (believe or not), and kisses in the bathtub.
Every time he slammed a door, he expected to hear a scolding that would be groggy sounding because he had just woken Gerard up again.
Frank deliberately slammed the door to the guest room as he went inside for the night.
How could he have done this to us?
Didn’t we mean as much to him as we did to me?
He sat on the bed; his phone had just received another text message but he suddenly felt too tired to look at it. He placed it on his charger at the bedside table and unfurled himself onto the mattress. The sadness was nagging him once more, tugging persistently at the bathrobes that he always wore whenever indoors. He blinked back the droplets of tears that his eyes were trying to break out into the surface.
The stench of sex filled his lungs, and for a moment he found himself back in room 212.
I guess not.