Frank makes up his mind about his future
Anyways, I'm writing a new Ray based Fic, about how the band changed his life. I know its not Frerard but I would REALLY appreciate it if you would give it a chance. Thanks!
Oh Great! Just what Frank needed! Gerard to come blazing in and shouting at him.
Gerard’s face was emotionless, if it wasn’t for the pain reflecting in his eyes Frank would’ve assumed Gerard had fallen asleep standing up.
It was up to Frank what he wanted to do in life, why did everyone have to interfere? With their preaching tone and their “Experience.”
To be honest, he couldn’t have cared less if at that moment he had been in a Drugs Therapy course, NOBODY could understand him. He cast his memory back to the times when he had told Gerard how wrong it was to take drugs. Frank sneered at himself, he was such a hypocrite! It didn’t seem to matter though, he wasn’t the same person that he was contradicting, he wasn’t the same Frank.
The old Frank could play guitar at ease, jump on and off Bob’s drum kit and do back-flips all in one show, now he couldn’t even be in the show because he had no talent.
It wasn’t as if he had his fans to set an example to anymore. His life had ended all those months ago. Maybe it would have been better if….
He snapped back to reality to realize that Gerard was still awaiting his reply. Frank assumed Gerard was probably laughing in his mind, laughing at Frank’s stupidity, basking in his superiority over his band-mate – no, wait – Lover.
Gerard was overwhelmed. Why?? The man he loved, his life. It was all slipping through his fingertips, like the contents of the sand pit in his childhood backyard, like his sanity. Yes, they had all been stressed recently, but Gerard had never once thought that Frank would resort to drugs. Why would such a great man destroy the drugs-free atmosphere he had helped create through music and messages to his fans? However, this man stood in front of Gerard wasn’t Frank, not the Frank that could entertain crowds of thousands, who fan sites upon fan sites based solely around him, not the Frank Gerard fell in love with so long ago.
Frank mumbled something vaguely, inaudible, Gerard asked him to repeat it.
“I said,” Frank roared, causing Gerard to lose his stony expression and look up at Frank in shock, “That it makes me feel good.”
“But.. Don’t I?? Don’t the fans? Or the band?”
Frank laughed at his friend’s ignorance, for someone who had apparently been through this he had no idea….
“Gerard,” Frank leaned in closer to stare Gerard right into his eyes, “You of all people should know, that there’s simply no comparison.”
The drugs had completely taken away the real Frank, leaving a cheap and heartless imitation in its place. Gerard had been through it all with Frank, good and bad, rich and poor, in ill health and happiness. So much for gratitude…
He could have shouted at Frank, tried to make him see sense in the situation, anything but what he actually did. Just what Frank least expected.
He slid down against the wall to his left and let his painful emotion override his whole body, his whole body began to shake with choked tears. His sobs weren’t the silent type, where you’re upset but trying to be quiet about it. No. They were wails. Whines and whimpers. The sort of tears even overdramatic 7 year olds were incapable of producing when they fell off their bikes. He rocked back and forth, his head buried deep with in his arms.
Frank didn’t need to see this sad scene, he decided to himself. He stomped out of the bunk area to wreak havoc upon the other members of the band. They had all obviously heard the heated row in the other room, but had felt it better to stay out. Mikey’s bleeding nose had cleared up quite successfully, but he kept a safe distance between him and the Artificial Frank they had once known as their friend.
“Hey, Frank. You’ve got a nosebleed to, did you know??” Jack notified, obvious concern in his voice.
“Oh, of course I knew!” Frank replied sarcastically as he roughly rubbed his nasal area with the back of his hand staining it a deep crimson. Why did Jack care if Frank was messed up?? The longer he had to stay off, the longer Jack stayed. Maybe Frank not being able to play benefited everyone….
Ray eyed Frank wearily and continued sipping his coffee, Bob avoided making direct eye contact and picked at a frayed end on the sleeve of his jacket and Gerard continued to wail in the other room.
God, the stress was just building up so much for Frank at that moment. He turned away from his friends (and enemy) and walked back into the bunk area. Stepping over Gerard’s sobbing mess of a human he brought out the bag of white powder from under his pillow. He didn’t care if Gerard was in the room, he had seen enough anyway. He sniffed the powder quickly and stood there, waiting for the rush to kick in expectantly. Gerard let out a tiny whimper from his place on the floor and then clambered back into a standing position, he outstretched his hand and clasped Frank’s in his own.
“I still love you.” He insisted, voice hoarse and eyes red and swollen for crying. “We all make mistakes, Frank. But I’m still here for you. Forever, Frank, Remember? You’ll bounce back again, like you always do.”
But Frank had persuaded himself one thing that night. He couldn’t bounce back this time, no matter how hard he tried, there was nothing to bounce from, no ledges to help him on his way up, he was a lost cause. And pulling Gerard down with him wasn’t going to help anyone in the world, Gerard was an amazing person, Frank felt unworthy of him. Frank knew in himself that he should just be left to his own destruction.
Even in his heavily intoxicated state, he knew what the future held for him and Gerard as a couple. Even thought it hurt him to say it, and probably hurt Gerard to, it needed to be done –
“Gerard, I think we should break up.”