Frank works in Starbucks, Gerard is a day dreamer who has a thing for guys in drag. Warning: cabaret. FRERARD oneshot Read and review?
The first time Gerard had not been expecting it. The first time Gerard had been very much unprepared. He had been rushing to catch the last train so that he could get back from Midtown New York and into North Jersey before it got dark and well a little stabby. However even the idea of getting on for that, bustling, crowded and generally horrific train ride un-caffeinated, was un-thinkable. So Gerard had made the decision then and there, a little recklessly, and very hysterical, to take a left at Madison Street and down to 43 East Street in order to stop at his favourite Starbucks.
Now, though most Starbucks are supposed to be the same, each one a carbon copy of the last and pretty much the same deal wherever you go, in that massive franchise kind of way. This one is different. This Starbucks is the Starbucks that Gerard insists makes the best coffee.
However the shop is, well, a little out of his way meaning that most days he has to settle for standard, overpriced, Starbuck’s coffee and while yes it is still made from the same beans, in the same process at the same damn shop a few blocks away it is very very different.
So Gerard doesn’t get heaven in a mug very often, but on that Monday evening Gerard wanted to reward himself. Wanted to cheer himself up with a little caffeine filled perk, he wanted to console his threadbare spirits with his favourite drink, from his favourite shop.
This is the one Starbucks that Gerard remembers has a pull door, it is the one that never has too much of a queue and it is the one that has the best serving staff, all of whom know him by name.
There’s Schechter, the short tattooed manager that aspires one day to kill the world. He’s always around and always watching and Gerard wouldn’t think twice before crossing the road away from him on a dark night.
Lindsey, the petite blonde with the wicked smile and a ‘take no shit’ attitude. She hasn’t worked there long but she fit in easily with the rest of the crew and Gerard has seen her tackle many ogling teenagers away from the café and her short, cropped skirts with little more than a glare and a middle finger.
Tay, the energetic and slightly off centre collage student from Poughkeepsie, probably the exact kind of girl protective mothers want their little boys to bring home to marry.
Then finally there’s Ryan, the youngest of the Starbuck’s trio and possibly the most sexually explicit guy Gerard has ever met. He only graduated from high school a few months ago, and though the ‘yo momma’ jokes along with the constant supply of ‘that’s what she saids’ would suggest that Ross is a twelve-year-old virgin, Gerard has never seen anyone pull more chicks whilst doing a crappy job part-time.
So this is not the first time Gerard went to the Starbucks on 43 East Street, dear lord no. This is just the first time Gerard ever felt flustered and awkward in the Starbucks on 43 East Street.
This is simply the first time Gerard met Frank.
Frank was new on the team and cleaning a table when Gerard first walked in, bent over and out of the way so Gerard didn’t even notice him as he pulled open the pull door.
Now if Gerard had seen Frank sooner on that first time, he may have been a little more prepared but as it was, Gerard did not, so he was not. He strode with confidence up to the counter with only two teen girls blocking his way to the front of the queue. It was Schechter’s turn to serve the customers and Lindsey was steaming milk and pressing beans a couple of feet away, Ryan was leaning against the wall like he had no intentions of working any time soon, talking to some girl about whatever the fuck he decided was a good topic for that day, be it dragons or physics or Gerard didn’t even care.
Gerard couldn’t see Tay, so he just assumed that she was in the back, or on a break, he assumed this because he hadn’t seen Frank doing what would normally have been the Nineteen-Year-Old’s job.
The only difference in the way Gerard ordered his ‘Tall White Mocha to go’ had been the slight speed of his words, his eyes still lingering on the invisible clock in front of his face back to Jersey before dark or bleed down an alley.
Schechter had even smiled a little as Gerard struggled to flick the dollar bills from his worn leather wallet and Gerard had begun to relax a little because if Brian Schechter is smiling than life isn’t all that bad.
He waited at the end of the counter while Lindsey chatted idly about how Forever 21 were totally ripping off her style and about how she couldn’t even walk through Central Park without seeing at least five other girls dressed in tartan and lace. He laughed a little as she told him to not even get her started on the lipstick! And was just about to leave with his frothy mocha when a small, speeding body crashed directly into him and his fuck scolding hot fuck beverage.
This is the exact point in time that Gerard first laid his eyes on the small, tattooed, clumsy punk boy, Frank Iero.
“Oh I am so sorry” He spoke with a lisp and blinked rapidly before moving out of Gerard’s space
“No, it’s fine” Gerard stumbled over his words, apparently over come with lust for the tiny Mohawk in front of him.
“No, no it’s not, Lindsey make this guy another drink please! OMG I am so sorry” he pleaded forgiveness with the frantic flapping of his arms and big cow eyes.
“Oh for God’s sake Frank, again?” Lindsey had scolded from the other side of the counter not even looking up from the steamed milk machine.
“I didn’t mean to!” He cried thrusting his inked arms into the air “Sir, are you okay?”
Gerard was not okay. He was in love. Or he was pretty sure.
“Don’t call Gee Sir, we’re only that polite to real customers” Schechter called over, ignoring the businessman trying to order his black coffee, yeah polite
“No, no really! It’s fine. I have to go” Gerard had said all in a rush before exiting the shop swiftly.
That was the day that everything changed.
The second time was only second by default Gerard wasn’t counting.
The second time was no less traumatizing, but at least Gerard had been a little more prepared.
On this second time, Gerard hadn’t been rushing he had however been very busy. Gerard was an art student in the middle of finals but he was also a slacker, procrastination may as well have been his middle name, if he was being honest with himself. So he had found himself with at least three billion art reviews to be doing in less than four days.
Gerard had decided that if he was going to get any of this work done, he would have to move away from the study hall and Ray and Bob who managed to make Gerard forget all about degrees and coursework with simple phrases like “Star Trek marathon at my place” or “There’s this new waffle house opening across the street!”
So Gerard had decided to take himself and his laptop over to 43 East Street.
Of course Gerard probably knew somewhere in the back of his mind that Frank would be working there again but the thought never really occurred to him until he pulled open the door and spotted the punk serving at the counter.
The time in which it took to walk from the door to the counter was not nearly enough for Gerard to pin his thoughts together yet somehow be it a chance of fate or luck from the gods Gerard’s stupid brain managed to choke out,
“One grande black coffee, drinking in please” with zero faults
Frank of course recognised him straight away and started flapping his arms around like a goon as he apologises repeatedly, “Oh god! Sure yes, sorry! Let me give you it on the house. Brian can I do that? Give Gerard a drink on the house?”
“No” Schechter shouts back from somewhere in the shop
“It’s really fine you know” Gerard says because it’s fine, everything is fine as long as he can get away from Frank and into his coursework
“Oh okay” Frank says, finally catching his breath and stilling his formerly flailing limbs “So that was a grande black coffee drinking in for Gerard?”
Gerard is surprised that Frank remembered after his little panic attack but he still nods, twice and moves towards the end of the counter where Lindsey gives him an exasperated look, a smile, a roll of her eyes then finally his coffee.
The third time is lucky. The third time is magic, blessed and completely unexpected.
Gerard knows by now that his trip to his favourite Starbucks will not be the same as previous trips had been. He knows that and he’s getting over that, or he was trying, he really really was.
But the thing is, the third time Gerard had been pooped, completely and utterly. He was tiered, stressed, hung over and so not in the mood.
The night before had been awesome, it was one of those typical frat parties with girls making out and boos and sex and drugs and just everything. It was like anything you could watch in a cliché sitcom but more, and Gerard had gone fucking wild. He hadn’t gotten laid or anything, try as he might, he could not get his dick out his pants for anyone, but he had danced and drunk and popped and all the rest of it till the sky was pink and he was passed out in a pile of his own vomit. The tell tail sign of a good night.
However goodnights are always followed by bad days and now, as Gerard tries to push open the door, he is feeling the full effect of this philosophy. His head hurts, and his stomach is churning with a velocity that makes Gerard want to die.
So Gerard is so glad to see Ryan serving at the counter, smiling at the women he’s serving like a Cheshire cat, but Jesus Christ they must be nearly forty. Gerard all but tumbles to the counter and waits his turn trying to decide whether it would be a good move to try and brave one of the pastries. In the end he decides against it and moves along the counter to order something with lots of cream and flavourings from Ryan.
Except when he looks up, loyalty card in hand, it is not Ryan that Gerard sees, no, Ryan is leaving the shop with one of the soccer moms on his arm calling to Frank to take his shift. Calling to Frank. Right.
“Hey Gerard, what can I get you today?” Frank smiles
“ Tall caramel macchiato with cream please” Gerard’s words, thankfully, leave his mouth with no permission
“And is that drinking in or taking away?” Frank asks, scribbling down the order.
Gerard has noticed Frank is a lot more organised today and he wonders if maybe Schechter has given him an earful about scolding customers while on duty.
“In, please” Gerard says and then pays Frank who smiles warmly before dropping the mug in his hands
By the time Gerard has his drink and is sitting in one of the comfy chairs near the back of the shop, he’s not sure any amount of coffee could keep him awake. Thing is, he keeps getting distracted by the way Frank is moving around the shop, it’s only him and Schechter in today and Frank has been banished from the counter to clean up the empty tables.
Gerard has noticed, that when he’s not fumbling with stupid things like mugs or words or people, Frank is actually very graceful. He swans around with a cloth wiping up the coffee rings and cake crumbs with an elegant ease. It shouldn’t be so hypnotising, watching some tattooed kid flaunt around with a wet rag but Gerard can’t tear his eyes away.
He can imagine Frank on ice skates, like on that show that his mom loves and he pretends not to watch because he is a man and he likes Top Gear and South Park but really there is nothing he likes to do more than curl up with his Ma and watch the couples twirl around on the ice.
Gerard thinks that Frank would be good at it, there’s something fluid, lucid about the way he moves.
He pulls out his sketchpad and decides that- he’s an art student, if he can’t be creepy and draw people in cafes now then when the hell can he? And starts drawing. The lines are rough at first, just black scrapes on a page but as he begins to pad out and shade and curve not only does the drawing develop but a whole new scene is created.
A whole new world for Gerard to explore.
Everything in the room is either pink or black, there are deep comfy seats around the outside of the stage then room for people to stand, and watch behind that. Gerard has bagged himself one of the seats, it wasn’t a hard task considering he is the only person in the shop.
Gerard is pleased with himself for finding a good seat never the less. Next to the seat is a box of tissues and a mug of coffee, both on a small black table. The stage is only half a metre away and would be about shin height if Gerard were standing up. But Gerard is not standing up, he is sitting down in one of the good seats.
At the back of the stage is a door, or more a door shaped hole in the wall, covering the door is a pink curtain. It is through there that two girls appear.
Gerard recognises them instantly as Lindsey and Tay, though, it is weird for him to see them out of the regulation Starbucks uniform. Except, Gerard thinks, it wouldn’t be that weird if they weren’t dressed as what Gerard can only describe as show girls.
They grin at him in their red and black lace, suspenders on show and small, delicate top hats fixed onto their glossy curls.
“Hi, Gerard” they say in unison, their usually brash voices an octave higher and girlish
They move so that there is a girl on either side of Gerard’s chair and Gerard gets a lungful of cheap perfume and coffee beans.
“Can we get you anything?” Lindsey asks, batting her eyelashes and leaning low on the chair
Gerard can feel Tay playing with his hair on his other side and he just has enough time to mutter something about being fine when the lights flash bright, then dim.
There’s a voice from somewhere, Gerard’s not quite sure and then a spot light whips around the stage as the crowd, Gerard is pretty sure wasn’t there before, beings to cheer and clap madly.
Entering the stage in a black, penguin suit and pink silk tie is Brian Schechter. In his hand is a silver microphone and he grins, bright and seedy at the audience as he makes rounds across the stage. The crowd go wild, all hooting and throwing black roses onto the stage when Schechter winks with his new heir of charisma, and Lindsey and Tay clap delicately with easy smiles, either side of his chair.
Gerard is not too sure what to think so he is glad that he isn’t given too much time to dwell on his thoughts.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Schechter’s voice is deeper than usual, more booming and slick “Welcome to notre masion; Guy Bucks!”
And with that Schechter burst into song.
Three songs later, Schechter finally stops, the crowd, once again go berserk and Gerard is still very confused. Lindsey pats at his hair and smiles brightly when Gerard raises an eyebrow at her and her suspenders and Tay is no more help.
The lighting changes as Schechter braces himself to speak again, he is a little out of breath and during one of the numbers he lost his blazer and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, his tie esque.
“Thank you! Thank you!” he cries “Merci my petitie canards!”
He hushes the crowd with his hands before beckoning them in closer.
“Now this next act” he says, dropping the faux French accent “Is something very special”
Gerard finds himself leaning in close, catching every word thrown at him.
“I present to you, ladies and gentlemen, Guy Buck’s own phenomenal, stunning and bendy contortionist, Mr Ryan Ross!”
And with that the lights go down and all Gerard can see is his own hands sitting awkwardly in his lap. When the lights go back up there is nothing on the stage but a small pink box.
Gerard gulps and Tay squeezes his shoulder, her and Lindsey still smiling brightly and if Gerard didn’t already know what was coming, with the start of Womanizer blasting through the shop and the squealing middle-aged women behind him, Gerard knows now.
The lid of the box is pushed off to reveal a delicate hand, the fingers are curved like the extension of a ballerina’s and the nails are painted a sparkly black. The hand pushes upwards and more of the arm is revealed, all tanned bare skin, smooth like a girl’s but strong and definite. As more body is thrust into view a small, husky voice begins murmuring
“Have you ever dreamt you were in a sunflower field?” The voice asks, a voice that definitely belongs to Ryan. “You see your loved one on the distance”
There’s a smile in Ryan’s voice now as he fully removes himself from the box, clad only in a pink leotard “You run for them”
Ross makes his way to the front of the stage and kneels so that he is face to face with Gerard. His eyes are something deep and intent and Gerard can hear the women around him screeching and cackling but he can’t look away from Ryan and his big brown eyes.
“And lean in for the perfect kiss” and Ryan’s lips are so close and it’s as if he’s speaking only to Gerard.
But just for a moment, then he’s gone and standing with his hands on his hips, centre stage
“Well this isn’t that kind of a dream!” He shouts with a grin and the soccer moms all hoot and yell “This is about sweaty, angry, crazy, monstrous fucking!”
And with that the dance begins.
Ryan’s body can do things that Gerard didn’t even comprehend, he’s still not sure what he just watched but he’s very glad he isn’t watching it any more.
Then Schechter is back with his silver microphone and sleazy tux and he’s hushing the wild crowds who demand more and more of Ross.
“Oh now I know you’re all going to miss him terribly,” Schechter coos
Gerard would object if he could handle any attention being drawn to himself in this place
“But I promise this next act wont disappoint”
Lindsey and Tay grin slyly each leaning lazily against the chair, slutty but still graceful somehow.
“Our next act,” Schechter begins “is something quite special” He grins, greasy and wolfish
“There are many stars in the sky, all glitter and golden like the gods that birthed them. But those stars, as lovely as they are, are very far away” Schechter pouts a little at his words
“However there is one star that isn’t at quite such a distance” The slick grin is back “In fact there is one star amongst us tonight, and if you’re all very quiet he might just come out”
The lights dimmed and the audience was still and silent. Then above their heads a hundred stars, like tea candle lights, began to ignite gentle and twinkly, bright against the black room.
From somewhere, or everywhere, piano began to flood the room, tinny and off key, but still pleasant. Gerard feels the fine hair on his arms beginning to rise and his stomach flips as a small, sweet voice fills the air.
“The French are glad to die for love”
Gerard holds his breath as something else, silver and sparkling, enters the space above him, a swing of some sort.
“They delight in fighting duels”
The swing lowers and Gerard can see a slender figure, outlined against the black
“But I prefer a man who lives and gives”
The figure is Frank
He looks like a girl is the first thing Gerard thinks, the second thing is hot damn and the third is Why am I suddenly in the Milan rouge?
There is a lighting, key and tempo change to follow these thoughts as Frank continues to sing, draping himself over the swing in his silver gown.
“A kiss on the hand may be quite continental”
He kicks his legs to cross and leans forward on his arms, chin resting in his palm as Lindsey and Tay chorus “But diamonds are a girls best friend!”
He makes a pleased face and flutters his lashes and Gerard doesn’t know quite where to look.
“A kiss may be grand but” The swing lowers to the floor and Frank hops off “It wont pay the rental on your”
“Humble flat” Tay and Lindsey sing, removing themselves from Gerard’s chair and joining Frank on the stage
“Men grow cold as girls grow old” Frank pouts into the audience
Gerard sits back in his chair, unable to tear his eyes away from the terrible, terrible scene playing out before him.
“And we all loose our charms in the end!” He leans as if he’s telling the audience a secret
“But diamonds are a girls best friend!” he belts ripping away the skirt of the gown to reveal a leotard style number and fishnets.
Gerard is having a serious case of Car crash syndrome.
The next few minutes are made up of elaborate dances and flips and twirls and more singing and Gerard thinks he might actually die, then the music stops and Frank is left centre stage feather boa dangling from his shoulders.
Schechter’s voice booms around the stage then, though he is nowhere to be seen
“Give it up for Guy Buck’s own shining Star!”
The crowd goes mad, roses and bras are thrown at the stage from every direction and Gerard finds himself clapping along as Frank blushes and tells the audience that they’re far too kind.
“Thank you, thank you!” He grins, catching a rose and blushing more deeply “I have one more song for you tonight” He tells the crowd earnestly
The next song is as bad as the first, but that doesn’t mean that Gerard didn’t enjoy it, it most definitely doesn’t mean he doesn’t scream for more with the crowd and it and there is no way that it means Gerard isn’t so hoping Frank will notice him.
And then Frank does, he looks at him, singles him out from the crowd and Gerard is two foot tall and a grinning mess
“Gerard” Frank says
Gerard doesn’t reply
“Gerard” Frank says again
And Gerard wants to reply, but suddenly everything is heavy and bright and he simply turns away from Frank burying his face into his chair”
“Gerard, wake up” Frank says “Gee”
And so Gerard does
“Huh?” He says rubbing his eyes and squinting at the Frank standing before him, not in drag and not dancing like a whore
“You fell asleep” Frank says kindly
Gerard feels his cheeks heat up “Oh, sorry” he says
“You drew me” Frank says
And Gerard looks down at the sketchpad in his lap, on it is a Frank standing on a table singing, in drag.
"Uh... yeah" says elongating the nouns as if he thinks there should be more than there are
"I like it" says Frank
So my friend Maple came up with this idea when we were discussing the cute as guy that works in our starbucks and she called him The Star From Guybucks, consequently I wrote this. I also made one of my male friends read this and I think he enjoyed it. Ha. Ha. If you read please leave a review and rate if you thinks this worthy
Thank you so much for the amazing reviews and rates so far I love you all