Frank, who's struggling with August's Summer heat, meets Gerard. A pale, mysterious guy who's making it a game for Frank to meet him again and find out who he is. .:Frerard:.
It was Summer. Again. You'd think after Mother nature realised humans couldn't function well in the blistering heat she would have stopped it years ago. But then again, I think she likes to watch us suffer, walking around with horrible red, first degree burnt faces. I don't even bother trying to impress anyone in the Summer. I just know that if I do, everything about me will look okay apart from the fact my eyeliner has melted down my cheeks in two dark black rivers and my shirt is soaked through by my own sweat. It's why I stay indoors moaning on the couch about how hot it is and repeatedly asking if the air conditioner can go any higher. That last part is also why I've been banished from the house for the day because my own Mom was annoyed. She gave me no time to change either. So she forced me out into the boiling streets in knee length black shorts and a red shirt with "Homophobia is Gay" scrawled across the front of it in black marker. She at least let me put on shoes.
I gave up walking down the bright, seemingly endless path when I came across a park. In it's old age, the paint had lifted from it's wooden body and the chains on the swings were slightly rusted, making them screech loudly every time you swung forwards. It didn't bother me much today because even though it was what any normal person would call a "lovely day" no one was here. No kids, no parents, no dog walkers and no teens scribbling their names on park benches. It was quiet and I was alone. No one to complain and whine to.
I sighed loudly and kicked at the honey coloured bark beneath my black converse. There never was anyone around when I turned up. Well, not anyone for me anyhow. Being openly gay doesn't really get you far in the friend zone, nor the date zone. It was as if I were the only homosexual in the entire city of New Jersey. It actually made me feel like I was destined to be alone for the rest of my life. At least until I escape God's waiting room that is.
Shielding my eyes from the blinding and burning sun, I looked around the park again. Maybe a dog had gotten lost and needed some company, like me, I thought. Perhaps I could sit and play with the poor thing until it's owner turned up, accused me of stealing the canine and leave, dog in tow. Instead I saw a dark figure sitting in the shade of an old oak tree hunched over a book, writing. Maybe they'd talk to me.
It took a small while for me to walk over there. I hesitated because they seemed really into what they were doing, and when I annoy someone, I can throw off their entire groove. But mostly they just get angry and get up in a huff, leaving me to watch as they storm away and glare at me from afar. Either way, I didn't want to do that to them, the heat can make me extra irritable. But there I am, striding over to them-well I'm almost dragging my half melted body across the extremely hot pavement-but I'm almost there now. Just a few more steps and I'm in the shade. That's when it happened. I tripped and tumbled into the shade, my face pressed into the cool, prickly blades of grass as I grunted. The poor, un-expectant person jumped and threw their pencil away.
"Erm..." I pushed myself up on my palms embarrassedly and looked down at my face print. "Can I share your shade?"
They cleared their throat awkwardly, almost hesitating in answering with a quiet "Sure" as they hunted for their pencil. I felt bad for making them lose it.
"I'm sorry for scarying you" I said as calmly as I could manage while I to searched for their pencil. "I didn't mean to, I tripped over the..." I looked over my shoulder and frowned. "The nothing. I literally just tripped over air"
They laughed. "I do it all the time. Sometimes I think it's just ghosts doing it for laughs" he fell quiet. "Sorry, I'm um, weird I didn't mean to... You know"
I looked up just as he hid his face behind his long raven locks, embarrassed and ready to run. "Hey, if it helps I think ghosts are the cause of memory loss" I said with a shrug. "You know, like when you walk into a room fully aware of what you want to do and then BAM! Gone, just like that and you're left standing in the doorway imitating a goldfish"
He laughed again and shook his head. "I don't know, it doesn't happen to me very much and I trip over a lot" he said as he looked up. "I think they'd do it to me too"
I smiled and looked down at the grass, already knowing why I had suddenly felt nervous. In front of me sat a pale, black haired boy wearing black jeans and a faded black Iron Maiden shirt. Let me translate to my view. He.Was.Good.Looking. I was attracted to the poor guy. Great. Now I had to try this Summer.
He sighed softly and sat back on his heels. "I'll just have to use another pencil" he frowned and sat back against the tree trunk again, obviously unhappy about the lose of graphite.
"Sorry for making you lose it" I said quietly, pushing my damp, dark brown hair from my face. I forgot I was supposed to be trying with my appearance. "If you want I could buy you a new one?"
He shook his head and pulled another pencil from his bag, looking up at me with a faint smile. "You'd have to buy a full set and, well, it's kind of expensive" he gave a small shrug. "It doesn't matter"
"Are you sure?" I asked, afraid this little mishap was going to cost even a friendship. "I could get them, it's really no trouble"
Again, he shook his head and smiled wider, obviously happy that I was insisting. "It's okay" he almost whispered, brushing his dark fringe from his deep, green eyes. "It was just a pencil"
Biting my pierced lip, I leant against the tree beside him, leaving an appropriate gap for strangers, and said "But it's not just a pencil" as I stared at my converse. "It was an expensive pencil" I turned my head. "You needed that pencil, and I made you lose it"
He turned and looked at me, his smile turning into a smirk. "You'll pay someday"
I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. "I will?"
Nodding, he stood up, putting his book and pencils in his bag. "Karma" he answered, nodding once. "It always comes around, right?" he looked across the park and wrinkled his nose. "I've got to go. If you see my pencil" he looked down at me with that same, small smirk. "Find me"
Eyebrows still furrowed, I watched him turn and start to walk away. "Wait! How will I know where to find you?! I don't even know your name!" I called after him, watching him turn and start walking backwards with his bag slung over his chest.
"August Arts!" he called back, his smirk not faltering, not even as he turned around again.
"And your name?!" I almost yelled, sitting forward as I watched him walk out of the park's gate confidently, completely ignoring me. I knew fine well he heard me.
Frowning, I looked down at my lap. How was I meant to find him if I don't know his name? And what is Autumn Arts? I asked myself, staring down at my hands confusedly. I didn't even know where his pencil was, so wasn't I getting ahead of myself?
I groaned quietly and looked down at the grass beside my leg, jumping up onto my knees as I snatched the skinny wooden pencil from the prickly blades of grass, almost smiling. Now I had a reason to find... I turned the pencil around in my fingers and watched as neat hand writing came into view on a small, carved spot on the end of it. Gerard.