“Hey, Frank. Would it be ok if I went shopping for a little bit? You can come if you want…” Gerard said, peering round Frank’s door frame, to see him perched in his armchair with his guitar perched on his knee, plectrum poised in his right hand at the ready. He hadn’t quite got the hang of it yet, and Gerard could tell it hurt him inside.
“Yea, sure! I’ll stay here!” Frank replied, tongue poking out in concentration as he slid his hand up and down the fret board trying to place his fingers in the correct positions
Before leaving, Gerard went through the usual “Call me if you need me” routine and then exited the house to leave Frank have some alone-time, which everyone had a right to, and which Frank was lacking.
Shopping. It had never been one of Gerard’s strong points - all the crowds, all the rushing, all the decisions, not really his idea of a good time. It had become increasingly annoying in the past five years, having girls scream in your face when you’re trying to pick out a nice tie can be a real downer. His dark Sunglasses and Black hoodie disguised most of his features today as he walked quietly down a bustling sidewalk. People jostling past with shopping bags clasped to their limbs, bright decorations near blinding you as they attracted people towards their “Christmas bargains”. Gerard had been sure to get Frank into the Christmas spirit, twirling tinsel around his bedposts and placing a humble Christmas tree next to his bed. Reminded of Frank, he continued searching for a perfect present.
Gerard exhaled a breath of exhaustion and started up his car, the drive home wasn’t far, but too far to walk. He reflected on the present he had bought today. A big silver watch, with a thick strap and Time, Date, Temperate and Compass features. Also, he had got the back engraved / To Frankie, Lots of Love, Gee/. He thought it was perfect… Pricey, but perfect. He was secretly triumphant that he had even thought of such a great idea. As he pulled into the driveway of his house, he thought happily of Frank’s reaction. Hopefully he would be happy. Possibly the other present he was going to give to Frank on Christmas day would make him even happier, though….
He unlocked the door and stepped inside, from that instant he knew something was wrong.
“Frank??” he yelled, with no reply, he sprinted up the stair, two at a time to Frank’s room, he wasn’t there, but yet what was in there came to a huge surprise to Gerard.
There, on Frank’s bed, lay his guitar, the neck splintered in two, the white body cracked and ruined, a chunk of the side lay on the floor. It was beyond repair.
Who would do this?
He knew Frank couldn’t be far, unless he had been carried. He checked around the room, every corner, wardrobe and under his bed. Continuously calling his name, and begging he would be ok.
He went beck out to the remainder of the second floor and made his way to the bathroom, the door closed firmly, but not locked. He pushed it open lightly and felt his heart leap to his mouth. There stood Frank, deathly pale and leaning against the wall, A bottle of Vodka lay next to him, empty on the cold tiles, but what covered the tiles shocked Gerard the most. Deep pools of Scarlet were dotted on the ground, mingled with shards of glass from the cabinet mirror. Gaping wounds shone in the light from Franks pearly skin. The skin on his hands was torn and still bleeding, His beautiful guitarist hands….
He gave Gerard a Goofy smile, before crumpling over to join the wreck on the floor.