The Greaser Gang
Frank runs his very own gang in LA, 1952. Gerard's the boy stuck in the diner, whilst Ray plays role of advisor for Frank and his trigger happy self...
Anyways, I got the inspiration for this after listening to 'California (Hustle And Flow)' by Social Distortion about twenty times. Listen to it whilst reading this if you like the song. The song really suits the mood (particulary at the beginning)
Fairly historically inaccurate, by the way.
The sun was beating down on the flat grey tarmac that was the road. Dust swirled and twisted in the stifling air – it felt like the whole desert was going to be set alight from the sun itself. The road was completely empty, and the only building seen for miles was a small tired diner. Off in the distance a bright green Cadillac shoots down the road, swerving across both empty lanes, quickly chased by a red Dodge-5.
The Cadillac easily had the lead on the Dodge and curses were being yelled out of the windows of both cars, although laughter was jumbled in with the oaths being tossed back and forth. Both of the cars approach the diner – the Dodge slows, but the Cadillac speeds up before performing an impressive 180 drift and screeching to a halt outside of the diner in a swirl of dust and grit. A small black haired tattooed boy jumps out of the Cadillac before sliding across the bonnet and landing right in front of the door to the diner, shooting a massive shit-eating grin at his curly haired friend who rolls his eyes whilst slamming the door of his Dodge.
“Beat cha again Ray! Losing your touch dude”, the tattooed boy jeers, smirking all the while. Ray rolls his eyes again and goes to swipe the back of his friend’s head, but the smaller boy ducks and Ray misses.
“Only cause you got the better car Frank. That is the only reason.” Frank grins again.
“Whatever you say, man, whatever you say. Hey, hide your piece before going in, yeah? Don’t want to be scaring no pretty ladies”
“Or pretty men, in your case.” It’s Frank’s turn to roll his eyes, before stowing his Colt Python under his leather jacket and made sure Ray did the same before pushing the glass-paneled door to the diner open.
The cool air inside the diner washed over Frank and he shivered slightly, suddenly grateful for the jacket that he was damning to the pits of hell only moments before. This diner looks like the hundreds both him and Ray have frequented before for whatever reason, all white Formica topped tables, neon lights on the wall and leatherette booths.
Frank slides into one near the door and Ray quickly sits opposite him, both of them grateful for the shade and chance of a drink after their getaway from the Jets. Frank grabs the laminated menu from the corner of the table, and leans over it pondering what he could grab to eat – he’d had to organize a rumble tonight on the Javelins, and he was kinda hoping it wouldn’t end too quickly, even though the Javelins were notorious for punking out. He snorted to himself, and Ray glances up and recognizes the look on his friends face.
Ray is the schemer of the gang, the brains behind Franks down kiddie rep. Frank could punch the fucking daylights of anyone stupid enough to get in his way, and is an excellent leader – but his judgment could easily be clouded by his temper and he had a habit of not thinking everything through.
Ray’s grateful for that though, he’s Franks opposite in every way, which is why he’s Frank’s right hand man. They balance each other out and their operation was as smooth as a machine slicked with oil. Frank runs his hand over his immaculately styled hair; he always makes a point of looking good because it does wonders for business even if he is seen as ‘that tattooed hood kid’. He gets his shit done, and his rep speaks for itself. Ray looks around the diner hoping to see someone who works here – both he and Frank are dying for a beer and possibly some food.
As if Ray had summoned him by thought, a bored looking guy appears at the edge of the table. Ray runs his eyes over him. Usually Frank would too – he’s always hunting for more guys to fuck – but he’s still busy examining the menu. The guy’s dressed in the same rolled up blue jeans as Frank, with battered black converse adorning his feet and a black and white Daddy-O shirt with the name of the diner: “Buddy’s”, over the left side of his chest.
“What can I get you guys?” Oddly, his voice lacks the California accent that neither of them hears anymore; instead, the guy talks with their native Jersey accent and that’s enough to make Frank look up and - once the guys looks seems to catch his attention - practically undress the guy with his eyes. Ray rolls his. The diner guy seems completely unfazed by Franks eye fuck and continues to stand there with a disinterested look on his face while he waits for either of them to reply. Frank’s face spreads into that smirk Ray knows too well – it’s the look Frank gets when he wants something. Frank leans forward and looks the guy dead in the eye, with a flirty smile on his face as he finally answers.
“Two beers, and a couple of meatloaf sandwiches, if ya don’t mind” Frank adds a wink to the end of the sentence, and Ray’s gotta give the guy credit; usually if the guy wasn’t interested, they’d be a look of disgust on their faces and if the guy was into Frank’s flirting, they’d be bright red and stuttering by now. The diner guy simply raises an eyebrow and says something about how of course he minds and walks back off in the direction Ray assumes he came from.
Ray turns his gaze to Frank who is leaning back in his seat with that smirk still on his face, and knows that Frank is probably turning over all the lines he could use to convince the guy to sleep with him in his head. Ray shakes his head, and then fumbles in his pockets for his cigarettes, knowing he needs something to stop himself making some remark about the diner guy Frank now wants.
This isn’t the first time Ray’s seen his happen – somehow Frank manages to convince almost every guy he wants to fuck him – but he knows that Frank’s never dealt with someone who didn’t even blink at his advances. Franks flirting always gets a reaction, even if it’s not always a good one. Ray lights the cigarette then holds the pack out to Frank out of courtesy. Lower ranks always offer higher ranks cigarettes if they take them out in the greaser gangs; it’s the only polite thing to do. However, Frank is one of the rare down kiddies that hardly take up the offer – he always smokes his own if he has some. As Ray expected, Frank shakes his head and digs out his own packet and quickly lights one up before puffing smoke rings up into the air.
That’s the moment the diner guy returns to the table with a couple of beer bottles. He still has that neutral expression on his face and it doesn’t even flicker as Frank peers up at him through his lashes and purrs a “thanks” at him. Then the guy does something Ray has never seen anyone do – he digs out his own packet of cigarettes, and upon removing one of the white cancer sticks from the packet, lightly dangles it from his mouth and lights it using the lit end of Franks cigarette. Ray gapes; fuck giving the dude credit, the guys got balls.
The diner guy has a smirk on his face to rival Franks, but he moves off smoothly after murmuring a “thanks” of his own at Frank. Both of them watch him walk away, gently blowing out smoke from the cigarette whilst tipping his head back. Frank lets out a breath (as well as a lungful of smoke) and falls back in his seat. His cheeks are tinted fucking pink and Ray hopes that this cool collected guy can be the one to stop Franks whoring around. The guy returns after a couple more minutes with the sandwiches, but hovers with them just out of reach as he flashes a cheeky grin at Frank.
“I don’t know about you personally, but I think it’s kinda rude to strip someone with your eyes without knowing their name, so I’m Gerard. What about you?” Ray grins at the diner guy’s – Gerard’s – charm and confidence; both him and Frank scream dangerous what with their jackets with the Condors symbol – a vulture bearing a gothic style ‘C’ – on the back as well as the tattoos on Frank that can be seen because he’s got his jacket sleeves rolled up. Yet this Gerard still had enough magnetism to make Frank blush slightly. Ray has to give Frank his due as well because he looks Gerard right in the eye and answers without stammering.
“Frank. Pleasure to meet ya”
“The pleasures all mine”, Gerard purrs before placing the sandwiches down in front of them and walking away from the table, swaying his hips ever so slightly. He walks across the customary jukebox, before calling over to them if they minded. Neither of them does, so Gerard turns to jukebox to one of his favourite songs and begins to sing along unconsciously as if neither Frank or Ray is present and staring.
They’re staring cause Gerard has a fucking brilliant voice. He’s leaning casually against the wall of the diner, eyes shut and taking puffs of his cigarette during the guitar solos. Somehow though, Ray knows that Gerard’s not putting on a show for Frank – it looks like he does this every day when he’s lonely in the almost forgotten diner, and Ray kinda pities him.
As much as his and Frank’s life is hard, dangerous business, it is never dull. Fights and rumbles, raids and deals roll and blur together as he and Frank commandeer the Condors and they’ve managed to rise into one of the most feared and wanted gangs in LA. But Gerard… he was stuck in this tired old diner, day after day, probably often without company to earn a tiny wage.
Ray ran his eyes over Gerard again, but this time it was checking him for obvious defects. He seemed okay physically though, and the gang could use a negotiator as smooth and confident as Gerard. Ray grinned and when he saw Franks gaze constantly flickering between his sandwich and the guy still leaning against the wall, but more often that not staring at the latter, he decided he’d excuse himself and let Frank make his move on Gerard. Ray scans the diner and quickly locates the toilets, and a back entrance that he’d be able to slip out of. He’s practically Frank's brother and he didn’t really need to see him all over some guy. Frank watches Ray mutter something about going to the toilet and almost laughs as Ray’s plan to leave him and Gerard alone becomes evident to him.
Once Ray has vanished out of sight, Franks gaze quickly leaps to Gerard, and is (pleasantly) surprised that he was suddenly a hell of a lot closer than leaning against the opposite wall. Gerard is about half way across the small diner now, smirk lighting his features in a way Frank can only describe as delicious as Gerard saunters towards where Frank’s sitting. Rather than sitting opposite Frank though, Gerard pushes Frank against the back of leatherette seat before sliding over and straddling his lap.
“Finally” Gerard whispers against Frank ear, voice low and husky “I thought he’d never leave.”
“Well, he’s gone now, isn’t he?” Frank responds in just as rough voice, settling his hands around Gerard’s waist as Gerard slithers his hands around Frank’s neck.
“He’d better be. I’m not big on having an audience”
“An audience for what?” Frank murmurs, looking into Gerard’s unusual green hazel eyes as if looking for the answer to his question.
“For this” And with that simple statement, Gerard presses his lips to Frank’s. It’s sweet for a moment, as if both are testing how much the other wants it, before it quickly dissolves into lust as Gerard slowly licks his way along Franks lower lip, pausing to nip it in the middle before continuing that hot line. Frank opens his mouth and feels Gerard’s tongue slide in beside his and begin to explore his mouth. Frank groans and wonders when he’s suddenly become such a little bitch – usually, he’d be the one doing the straddling and being the dominant role. Instead, Gerard’s weight is firmly on his hips, and Gerard tongue is in his mouth and Frank doesn’t want it any other way. He isn’t even fighting Gerard for dominance in the kiss. Gerard pulls back slightly, his lips red and slightly swollen, with a challenge in his stunning eyes.
“C’mon Frankie, I know you have more fight than that, being in a gang and everything” Gerard teases, purring the words softly into Franks ear. Franks abdomen tenses at the test in Gerard’s voice, that murmured challenge turning him on more than he thought possible.
“You want me to fight?” Frank smirks at Gerard, whose eyes glint at him. “Be careful what you wish for babe.”
Frank leans forward and shoves his mouth against Gerard’s, quickly forcing his tongue into Gerard’s awaiting mouth. This time, their tongues twist around each other, as if both are daring the other to come apart and submit first. They carry on like this for a few passionate moments that slide by too quickly for Frank’s liking, neither of them giving in until Gerard bites down hard on Franks bottom lip, and just like that, their fight for dominance is over. Frank gasps and Gerard quickly captures Frank’s mouth with his tongue and smiling against Frank’s lips.
Gerard’s smile quickly becomes a smirk as he grinds down on Frank, and that smirk grows wider as Frank moans – a deep guttural moan that almost makes Gerard come right in that second. Gerard pulls back and swings his leg off of Frank before standing up. Frank glares up at Gerard muttering the word tease at him a few times before shutting up as Gerard bends down and kisses him full on the lips, making it everything it wasn’t a minute ago – slow, sweet and gentle. Frank sighs happily and loops his arms around Gerard’s neck and savors the moment.
Ray hears the silence and figures it’s probably safe to go back inside without seeing the scarring image of Frank being tangled up with Gerard. As he walks in, the pair has obviously just broken apart and Gerard has his hand on Frank’s cheek, thumb carefully stroking Frank’s cheekbone delicately. Ray is surprised to see Gerard standing over Frank, and not the other way around and once again hopes Gerard is the one to stop Frank’s constant manwhoring and actually mean something to his friend.
Gerard has this smug teasing smile on his face and Frank looks desperate, so Ray concludes that they didn’t have sex. He likes this Gerard guy more and more by the second – he’s ballsy, has a slick manner about him and clearly knows when to stop. Ray thinks he would probably fit in with the gang like he’s always been there and they could do with someone with brains. He’d discuss at length with Frank like they would when considering adding anyone else to the gang, but Ray knew Frank would hardly say no.
Ray was right. But of course he was right. He might of sucked in school, but when it came to the gang and running it, he had an uncanny gut instinct that had yet to be wrong. Frank’s always had the decency to allow Ray to come to him when Ray’s gut tells him something, rather than constantly pester Ray about how he felt about this, or how he felt about that. If Ray has a gut feeling one way or the other, it’s unquestionably listened to. If he doesn’t, he and Frank discuss it at length and decide together what’ll work best for the gang. Ray’s grateful for this – he’s not an oracle, he just sometimes has good or bad feelings about certain situations.
Bringing Gerard into the gang had definitely worked. The black haired guy was still as smooth as he was the day they met him, but could now throw a powerful punch and shoot whatever target had the unfortuneate experience of staRing down the barrel. He was clever too, and often helped Ray and Frank organize raids and rumbles as well as dealing with their more difficult customers due to the fact he could sell bloody ice to the eskimos, without the client ever feeling pressured. He’s been with them for nine months now, was a great asset to them and seemed to enjoy his work, but that wasn’t the real reason Ray liked him so much.
The main reason was he made Frank so damn happy. They’d been together since that day in the diner and had carried on in bliss ever since. Gerard was the perfect companion for Frank; he had enough balls to argue with Frank and didn’t back down easily, was clever enough to talk to for hours, he wasn’t intimidated by Frank’s ‘work’ seeing as he was part of it and was very protective of him. Not that Frank really needed it physically, but Ray knew that someone having your back no matter what you did was a feeling Frank needed.
Ray had always had his back, but Gerard did it for a different reason – he loved Frank and that was something Ray couldn’t do. Gerard took care of Frank in a funny sort of way; he was happy enough to listen to Frank rant for hours and would then calm him down by kissing him. Ray was close to Gerard too, they could both talk for ridiulously long periods of time and Ray often enjoyed Gerard’s bizarre sense of humour. They’d made Gerard high up in the gang very quickly – some members objected saying that Gerard was only doing that well cause he was fucking Frank – but soon mostly everyone who mattered agreed he was the guy for the job.
Another rumble with the Sharks had to be organized, as well as a shipment of moonshine whiskey that was coming into their turf tonight and needed a welcome party to make sure that the transaction was properly completed. Frank hated overlooking alcohol runs, because there wasn’t enough violence for him and Gerard hated them because he couldn’t stand in being charge of a group of people that didn’t respect him and listen when they needed to. Ray wasn’t a big fan of violence, and so it was agreed he’d take care of the whiskey whilst Frank and Gerard went and made sure the Sharks knew whose turf they were fucking with.
Ray leans back in his chair and watches the pair strap each other’s holsters on snatching quick kisses in between. Frank still prefers the Colt Python, because it’s quite light and small for him to swing around with ease, whilst Gerard likes the Smith and Wesson .38 revolver for its precise look and feel in his hand. They’re both tooled up now, and look absolutely lethal. But that’s the general idea. It’s possible that someone will die tonight, but more likely story is; they’ll show up, make lots of noise and scare the Sharks off unless they’re willing to pay rent.
Gerard’s arm is curled around Frank’s waist and he’s running his other hand down Frank’s tattooed arm. Ray takes that as his cue to leave and so he does, deciding to go and check on the team accompanying him tonight. Once the door swings shut, Frank tugs at Gerard’s shirt pulling his face closer and buries his fingers in Gerard’s black hair. He groans and grips Frank’s arms a little tighter, pressing their bodies flush together. As quickly as it starts, it’s over and they smile a little sadly at each other knowing full well that either or both of them could die tonight.
“Y’know,” Gerard says idly, sitting down and pulling Frank into his lap “You really can’t die tonight.” He begins to play with Franks hair and Frank tips his head back and rests it on Gerard’s shoulder.
“I don’t plan on it. It would mean leaving you behind. But any particular reason I can’t die tonight?”
“I want to give you something later.”
The Sharks all punked out as both Frank and Gerard knew they would and they were high on the adrenaline that soared through their veins. They piled into the house they shared with Ray, giggling and playfully kissing each other as they walked through the hallway. Gerard heard a soft growl form behind him and two arms snaked around his waist and yanked him back towards his boyfriend. Frank holds Gerard right against him and gently grinds against his leg.
“You know, Ray will be out till about two am…” Frank mouths against Gerard’s ear before gently running his tongue over the pink shell. Gerard smirks and turns around so he’s facing Frank and leans down slightly to kiss him hard while he rubs their semis against each other. Frank really does growl then, and quickly breaks the kiss to yank Gerard’s jacket and shirt off, revealing the ivory skin of his chest that Frank loves so much. Gerard smirks and then shudders with pleasure as Frank slowly licks a stripe from his neck all the way to his belt. Frank grins and helps Gerard to remove his own shirt. Once it’s off, Gerard begins to suck on the scorpion tattoo on his neck and Frank starts to tremble as Gerard slowly rolls one of Frank’s nipples between his fingers.
“Fuck…” Frank breathes and Gerard smiles that smug smile as he hoists Frank into his arms. Frank wraps his legs around Gerard and they continue to press their lips together as Gerard quickly climbs the stairs and heads for their room immediately. He slams the door shut with his foot and drops Frank onto the bed, before clambering over him and straddling his waist. Frank once again tangles his legs with Gerard’s waist and tugs him closer and running his hands through Gerard’s hair.
Gerard begins to suckle along Frank’s jawline, before moving back to his neck and sucking hard enough to leave a mark that’ll be visible to everyone tomorrow. Gerard pulls back a little and then starts to work his way down Frank’s chest, kissing and sucking and occasionally biting until he was nosing Frank’s crotch through the Levi’s. He quickly worked on the belt, deftly sliding it out of the loops, before pulling Franks zipper down with his teeth. Frank’s mewling desperately now and gripping Gerard shoulders trying to make him go faster. But Gerard just chuckles and begins to lightly sup at the head of Frank’s cock, tasting the pre come.
Ray walks in the house and finds it mysteriously quiet. He pauses for a moment, hoping that he wouldn’t hear any moaning like he had done in the past; he had no objections with Gerard and Frank sleeping together - they were bloody well dating for fucks sake – but that didn’t mean he had to hear it. But it seemed safe enough for now, until Ray hears a huge squeal from Franks and Gerard’s room. He looks warily up the stairs, and hopes like hell he hadn’t walked into another flipping sex scene.
Gerard smiles at Frank sleepily as both come down from their orgasm high, and as Frank leans forward to kiss Gerard on the mouth, he feels something cold on the skin directly above his heart. Looking down, he sees Gerard holding a gun against his chest. His breath catches, and he looks into Gerard’s eyes quizzically, but there’s some emotion Franks never seen before in them. Gerard gently kisses Frank, before taking the gun off of Frank and handing it to him instead. Frank holds the gun tightly in his hand – it’s perfectly balanced, the right weight and size for his hands, and has ‘Frankie’ engraved in flowing graceful script down the sides of the barrel.
The last thing to catch Franks eye however, is the heavy band of what looks like platinum that’s hanging off the barrel. He carefully pulls the ring off the gun, and on closer inspection, has the word ‘Forever’ etched on the inside. Frank peers up at Gerard again, who takes the ring off him, before muttering against Frank’s tattooed neck.
“I love you so fucking much Frankie. Marry me?”
Frank prides himself on his tough attitude – it’s what made him so dangerous to all the other gangs. He hadn’t cried for over ten years. He didn’t show negative emotions to anyone but Gerard and even then, he’s never been too emotional.
But when he thinks about how perfectly Gerard’s done this, how thoroughly it represented their life together and their relationship, as well as the simple classic ring Gerard’s got him because he knows how much Frank hates fussy over-the-top jewelry on men, makes his eyes prick with tears. He pulls Gerard off of his neck and cups his face gently, running his fingers over the delicate cheekbones and thin lips that are now his forever.
“Fuck yes.” Frank whispers in Gerard’s ear. Gerard’s lips crash onto his as he feels the ring slide onto his finger. There’s an odd high-pitched noise, and he realizes it’s coming from him. Him, the tough, violent, previously manwhoring, unemotional gang leader is fucking squealing, he’s that happy.
There’s a tentative knock on the door.
“Are you guys okay?” Ray calls cautiously through the door. “I’m coming in in twenty seconds, so say now if you’re having sex or cover yourselves up if you’ve just finished.” Gerard sniggers, and pulls the covers over him and Frank, so that only their arms are on display. He tangles his legs with Franks and watches with amusement as Ray pokes his head round the door and sighing in relief when he saw they were decent enough. Frank’s beaming, it’s not an expression Ray’s seen on him before but it doesn’t look out of place when he spots the ring on Frank’s finger.
“YOU’RE GETTING FUCKING MARRIED!” Ray yells, his excitement for his two closest friends getting hitched threatening to bubble over. Gerard smirks at him and Frank curls up under Gerard’s arm and they both look so blissfully happy that Ray is trying not to cry. He grins suddenly.
“Y’know Frank, I think a wedding is the one thing we haven’t planned.” Ray muses and Frank smiles.
“And everything we plan turns out perfectly in the end, doesn’t it?” Ray nods at Frank and then stands up and turns to leave. He waves to the pair, and both Gerard and Frank sit there for a moment until they hear the music trickling through the door and smirk at each other. Frank pushes himself against Gerard and whispers seductively to his fiancé.
“Now, where were we?” Gerard just smiles deviously before kissing Frank long and slow. Ray’s grateful for the music.
The day they’ve been planning for just over three months has finally rolled around: the final suit fitting. Neither wanted to wear a suit, but Ray said that no way in hell was he letting his two best friends get married in their usual clothes. Levis, A-shirts and leather jackets were not suitable for anyone’s wedding day apparently. Ray wanted them to look back on the photos in sixty years time and smile about how prefect their day was. Gerard pointed out that what they were doing was illegal anyway, and that no church would even consider letting them step of the threshold because of their sexuality, they were hardly going to let them stay long enough to get married and therefore posh fancy formal suits weren’t required.
Ray had sighed and sulked and in te end Gerard let him win. Ray was always right about shit like this anyway. They had decided to get hitched in the now derelict diner where they’d first met because it held special value to them, and was also a long way out of any rival gang’s jurisdiction, making it as safe as it could be when two gang members were getting married. The seamstress woman was getting angry with Frank, because he didn’t like the collar of his shirt, because it covered his neck tattoos. When the woman said that was the point, Frank flipped and demanded a collarless shirt to wear. The fact that they insisted on wearing all black suits with bright red ties infuriated Ray – he’d wanted a pale blue for Frank and white for Gerard, but the pair had fallen about laughing when he told them and had just about been able to stop long enough to tell Ray fuck no before carrying on laughing.
Despite Ray’s initial horror at the black funeral suits, he had to admit they looked pretty good. The matching red ties and handkerchiefs poking out of their breast pockets made them look smart and refined, and stood out at blazingly against the flat black of the rest of the outfit; a black shirt and dress trousers with black braces and black converse. Ray hadn’t been able to convince them out of the converse. Frank said he wanted to look back at the pictures and see himself there, not some dolled up, fake version of him. Gerard agreed.
Unsurprisingly, Ray was the first one up on the day of the wedding. It seemed to him that he was the most excited about this, and he wasn’t even the one getting married! He paced outside Gerard and Franks door, where right at that moment Frank had his mouth around Gerard’s dick and was slowly sucking and grazing his teeth up the vein on the underside. Gerard was gasping quietly as Frank murmured to be quiet around Gerard’s dick, sending vibrations up the shaft. Frank rolled his tongue around the head and dipped into the slit, tasting salt, and with a shudder Gerard came down Franks throat. Frank was whining quietly and Gerard quickly wrapped a hand around his dick and began to pump slowly, adding a twist at the end the way Frank liked it. He let his other hand feel for Franks balls and he rolled them in his palm whilst pressing his thumb to Franks slit and suddenly, Franks back arched and he came all over Gerard’s hand and his own stomach.
Just at that moment, Ray pounded on the door and demanded that they get up now. Frank smirked at Gerard and called through the door to Ray that they were showering now.
An hour later, and they were finally at the diner. They’d cleaned it and made a friend dress up as a priest, so they could at least pretend they could marry in a real church. The vows were simple; they matched the inscription on Frank’s engagement ring: “Forever”. Despite Ray's best intenetions and hopes, the wedding ended up being a massive joke - mainly due to the grooms: Frank hurled cake at Gerard, Gerard set fire to part of Frank's trousers and both them vanished for a hour and returned with massive grins and seriously disheveled hair. Ray decided to not ask questions.
But as they drove away for their honeymoon in the very Cadillac Frank had raced Ray the first time they met, Gerard was reminded of the last line in the song he was singing in the diner on that very day.
“Life gets hard and then it gets good, like I always knew it would”
Yes, I know it's not really the last line of the song, but I though it gave it some finality.
Whew. This was a long one! Rate and/or reveiw for me? :D
WOW! This has gone freaking green! YAY! (happy dance)