In the basement that they now had, was all of Mikey’s things that Frank knew he would need back. Frank hadn't told Mikey they’d moved though, so if he wanted his things, he would have to call and arrange to meet up at some place. Frank refused to let anyone know where they lived now, like Gerard had said, Mikey was all up for Frank dying and who knows what Gerard’s parents could do.
It would be untruthful for Frank to say that the decision to move to a more deserted area of the state was not influenced by his fear of what could happen to him. Of course it was mainly for Gerard’s benefit; Gerard could go into the back garden of the house and not have to feel like a neighbor could see him, because they didn't have neighbors anymore.
The house was old looking on the outside, the pale wood color being striped with black wooden beams. It looked a lot like a Gothic fairy tale house, and it had attracted both of the boy’s attention. The inside was different in ways, the interior being more modern, but it still had the feel of old love. Maybe like the first owner intended to leave their mark forever in the house - both boys like that.
But one thing was wrong; Frank couldn't help the obsessive need to voice the question that had been in his head for months now. He needed to get the question out, it had been too long awaited, and it was too momentous. Yet the question, made Frank think of the end. The end of everything. So the end of everything, surely meant that Frank would be left homeless if it turned out badly. Despite that, Frank was more worried about the possible end to his relationship with Gerard; It had only just started it couldn't end now.
Frank waited for most of the day for Gerard to wake up, they had had a late night and so it wasn't so surprising that Gerard didn't make an appearance before noon. They had unpacked their bedrooms. Gerard had told Frank that he didn't want to share rooms, and Frank agreed, because he had no reason to disagree. They could hug anywhere in the house, and they were no where near the stage of being comfortable enough to see each other naked.
"Hey Frank? How long have you been awake?" Gerard asked he as the old brown couch in their living room. They decided that the room be shared more than any other, because this room would be where they spent the most time. Their DVD and game collection had been mixed and stored together, as well as photographs. Though Gerard's were usually just of his Grandma, while Frank's were of his mom and dad.
"Not that long," Frank mused and gave the generic answer, he knew it was false but he didn't know the real answer. "Listen, you remember when I said I had something to ask you? And then you got really excited about showing me your superheroes?"
Gerard shook his head, but Frank had guessed he wouldn't remember. "Okay so, A few days after Christmas I went to sell that painting you did. And the guy, he was called Justin and he was really nice and we had coffee and-"
"And now you want to be with him?" Gerard interrupted, "Is that what you want to tell me? That you've finally met an artist who can actually leave his own house?!"
"No!" Frank looked genuinely shocked that Gerard had thought of such a thing, but then Frank remembered Mikey telling him about Gerard's insecurities. "Gerard, that's not what this is about. I'm sorry I made you think that. But anyway, he said something about your art and that it costs so much because nobody has ever met you. Did you know that?"
Gerard looked uncomfortable. He looked more uncomfortable than he ever had before. And that was saying something, because Frank had seen Gerard in the most uncomfortable situations that the latter could have been involved in.
"I- I'm. It wasn't my idea."
"What? You fucking knew?!" Frank scowled, clutching the couch pillow with a tight fist. "That's fucking, disgusting. It's like. It's like cheating people!"
"For a while I was lonely," Gerard started, not looking directly at Frank and his features were distant like he was thinking. "I was 16, and I was all on my own. Still living with my parents and feeling dejected. Everyone hated me and so I didn't speak."
"I thought you didn't speak, because of y'know," Frank gestured widely to Gerard's whole body and hoped he didn't offend Gerard.
"That was part of it," Gerard shrugged, "But I was mainly selfish with my own reasons. Nobody listened to me, and so I just talked to myself in my head. It was so lonely. I could have said the funniest thing, the best thing or even the smartest thing, and nobody would ever be able to hear it."
"I still don't get it Gerard," Frank sighed.
"Soon my Grandma found me and told me to put my thought into art. It got dark, a lot darker than I intended. Sometimes I would draw people dead. And then skip a few years and I started to draw professionally. Only a few people would buy my art, and it was barely enough to live on for a few days," Gerard sighed, and twisted his hands in his lap. Frank noticed that his passionate hand gestures were gone.
"So, you said it wasn't your idea. Who's was it?"
"Mikey's. He said I would get more money and be able to live comfortably. And then, I guess I got more caught up in the idea when it started to work. People got more interested and the whole thing got bigger than I ever imagined. And it's not like I'm lying? I couldn't actually go and meet these people even if I wanted to."
"That's not the point Gerard," Frank's voice was soft, almost wary, "The point is they are believing in something false. That's not fair."
"But you don't get it!" Gerard stressed, "My whole life I've been walked all over, left lonely and abused in more than one way. God cursed me with this shit, and now it's my turn to get something out of my life, to be more comfortable. There's no way anybody is going to take this from me. It's my life and my choice."
"You can't do this to people Gerard, I won't let you, I-"
"Oh you won't let me? How are you going to stop me Frank?"
Frank sighed trying to think of what he could do to help Gerard live with the same stability but not hurt so many people with fake dreams. He needed a good plan.
A/N: THIS HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR WEEKS. LIKE SERIOUSLY. I CAN'T EVEN WRITE ANYTHING WITHOUT THIS COMING UP LIKE 'WRITE ME WRITE ME.'
I guess I had an okay couple of days, like I don't know, they were funny and I guess normal? But then today I just felt so.. alone. I felt so alone in myself and in how people view me. I have friends, obviously, but they don't like me. They like how I act, and how I pretend. They'd never be there for me fully. I have a few close friends who are like that, but I'm still pretty lonely. And I just felt so trapped in my mind, like nobody would really notice me if I didn't talk. It was pretty disheartening.
But, anyway! I hoped you liked this, and yeah. Opinions are great. xoxo