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And so a week passed quickly for Frank, who lived it in a kind of trance. A few times being with Gabe, he had imagined it was Gerard he was fucking, and let slip his name on more than one occasion. Gabe didn't notice the first few times it had happened, but every so often, he said it so loud that Gabe had to pretend not to notice.

On the day of his trial, Frank's mother brought him a nice suit to wear. He took out his piercings and combed his hair, shaved the light stubble that had built up over the past few weeks. When he emerged from the facility, handcuffed, a balloon of nerves began to swell in his stomach. He took deep breaths as they drove to the courthouse.

His mother was there, waiting anxiously on the steps. She smoothed out his jacket and placed her hand on his cheek.

"It'll be fine, okay honey?" she said, doing her best to smile.

"Yeah, Mom," he said, not knowing if he quite believed it, not just yet. "Let's go."

Together, they walked into the courthouse, and down to their room. Frank stood at the defense table, still handcuffed, his tongue nervously and obsessively going over the hole in his lip where the ring should be. The judge entered and everyone stood, then sat.

"Mr. Iero," the judge read off, pronouncing his name right. "Please take the stand," she nodded to indicate the bench. He nervously walked up and sat down, bouncing his knee up and down. "Please state your name,"

"Frank Anthony Thomas Iero, Jr."

"Raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

"You may sit."

He obliged.

"Do you remember the events of September 12, 2009?"

Frank gulped. "Uhh...yeah..."

"Do you believe you were wrongfully imprisoned, or imprisoned under false pretenses?"

"No, I did what I was accused of."

"And...?

"And...I'm very sorry. If I could, I would give anything to go back and have just...stayed home that night." Frank looked down. He wasn't bullshitting, either. Gabe had proven to be a great friend, but he'd give up no-strings quickies for someone who really loved him any day.

"I see...And..."

And on went the trial, climbing past one hour, on into two, stopping just short of three.

"Well..." the judge said. "I will assess everything and all the facts. You will know in three days' time what will happen."

Frank nodded and got up to leave. He followed his mother out into the hallway, where she gave him one last hug before he had to be taken back to the juvenile center.

When he got back to his cell, Frank sighed and loosened his tie, throwing it on the bed. He shrugged off his jacket and snatched his tongue, nose, and earrings off the desk, putting them back in. He had completely bombed.

He had stuttered, tripped over all his words, lost his train of thought, and just all-around made a fool of himself. Of course they would misinterpret his nerves, probably get him locked in here for God-knew how long.

"What's cookin' good-lookin'?" Frank jumped. He hadn't realized that Gabe was there. He sighed again and ruffled his hair with his hand. "How did the trial go?"

Frank shrugged. "Okay, I guess. As well as can be expected. The only thing left to do now is wait."

"When do you find out?"

"I'll know in three days."

"Hmm...Well, I'm bored..." Gabe said pointedly.

"Not now, man," Frank said, collapsing on the bed. "I'm just...too tired." He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, trying to relax.

"Iero!" Barked the guard, pronouncing the name wrong, yet again.

Frank got up, groaning. He opened the door and said sourly, "It's Iero,"

"I give a shit."

Frank shook his head and walked out. He wondered if maybe his mom had gotten the results extremely early and was coming to tell him.

But no, it was Mikey. For the first time in a week, he was back.

Frank sat down. "Hey Mikey," he said picking up the phone.

"Hi Frankie-boy."

"What's up?"

"Nothing really..." he trailed off, and Frank knew that something was up.

"Okay..." he said.

"How was your trial?" Mikey asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Okay," Frank repeated, and searched his mind for something to say. "So...How are--"

"I met a girl, Frank," Mikey interrupted.

Frank's eyes grew round as plates. He gaped at Mikey through the glass, wondering if he was being punked. "...Really?"

"Yes."

"What's her name?"

"Her name's Alicia..." Mikey said, beginning to get bashful.

"Does she go to our school?" Frank asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah. Her last name's Simmons."

"Alicia Simmons? She was in my English class..." Frank thought about it. She had lent him a pencil for tests a few times, so she was nice enough.

Mikey winced. "Was she...?"

"She was nice," Frank assured him. Mikey sighed, relieved.

"Good. She really is great, Frank. You should meet her."

"Does she know...?"

"Gerard never let it get out," Mikey told him. "He went to everyone who knew, including Ray, and 'convinced' them that none of it was true. Ray didn't believe it, but he promised not to say anything."

"Oh. Alright then, I guess that's for the best."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So...your feelings for me were just..."

"No! No, it's not like that at all! I did love you, and I still do, but...you know...it just didn't work out between us. So I moved on. And I think you should, too," he added.

"I know...I think I have."

"I'm glad, Frankie-boy," Mikey said, smiling.

Frank nodded, smiling, feeling a little pang of jealousy. He was happy for Mikey, right? Bullshit. But, he had gotten over him, hadn't he? Yes...But that didn't change the fact that Mikey still had someone to love him.

When Mikey left, Frank walked slowly back to his cell. Once the door was closed behind him, he turned and jumped onto the top bunk with Gabe, planting a kiss on his lips. Their lips meshed, tongues colliding and intertwining.

Gabe pulled away. "Bad visit?"

"Not at all."


If you spend the night crying in the shower, and no one's around to care, do you really matter?