Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 100 Gerard/Frank Fics
For Prompt #065
Alone
She's like one of those little shaking dogs, Gerard thinks to himself, She's like a little tote bag.
Frank's running around, meeting and greeting and being who everyone thinks he is. Frank is who he is in every aspect of his life.
He's the guitarist onstage. The enigmatic one (combated only by Gerard's blatantly sinful behaviour to score a rise from the crowd). He's the trustworthy friend on balconies outside of luxury hotel rooms, where Gerard finds himself spilling out every swallowed depression and sinful action like a adolescent boy in Confession. He's the laughter in the group when all form of entertainment fails, and Gerard can't help but smile longingly at Frank's ability to capture anything he wants with such effortless attempts. Because that's the thing. Frank never means to.
That was my fault, Gerard smiles sadly, My fault. I fell hard.
But right now, Frank's playing boyfriend. Attractive, attentive, adorably arrogant boyfriend. And her hand is clasped tightly around his as they finally step out of the bus and bid their welcomes and thanks to the surrounding people that support them tonight. That help make the show run. And after every nod and every hello and every 'how do you do?' Frank tilts his head in next to Gerard's and whispers a little story or quote that adds just enough of stupidity and zaniness to the situation that Gerard can't help but break down into silent laughter, biting his cheek as Frank hisses (between little giggles), anecdotes that break down these strangers' lives into ridiculous tales worthy only in their own little world.
And he tugs on her hand to keep her up, and she's smiling as she trots along at his side with her college sweater hanging over her worn in jeans and bright eyes that stand out against a naturally tanned complexion.
She's lovely, Gerard would think to himself sometimes. She's lucky. So very lucky.
And when the show is finally over, they decide to stop for a movie before hitting the hotel, because there's never any time for things like this on the road. And they all miss it. He takes her hand and leads her into the nearly empty theatre, holding down the seat for her while grinning like a loon, before glancing up and waving Gerard over frantically, like there was a mob of people just waiting to take the seat next to Frank and his girl.
Because that's not third wheel at all, Gerard thinks with a snort, pausing quickly to abolish that disturbing thought before he takes his seat next to Frank, who immediately turns his face and starts making obscene moans while pressing his palm to Gerard's mouth and placing his own against the back. The illusion earns laughter from his girlfriend--
Fiancée? Gerard thinks. I don't remember what it is this week.
--and flying popcorn from the guys, who can't seem to decide between making hooting noises or gags of mock disgust. Mikey shouts something along the lines of 'if you can't share him Gerard, then just back off,' and the words send a jolt of unpleasant realization through his body. Frank seems unfazed as he leans off and stretches, yawning widely and giving Gerard a lopsided grin. She's tugging on his arm and pointing to a commercial on the screen, trying to get him to listen to her story, but he waves her off with a 'just one minute, sweetie!' finger in the air, turning back to Gerard to whisper, 'that was amazing, darh-ling, we must do it again sometime.'
You don't know what you're doing, Gerard thinks, staring at him with a look he's sure conveys more than is acceptable, but Frank actually returns it, his hand making a sudden movement as if to touch Gerard, before remembering that his fingers are intertwined harshly with hers.
Things like this happen far too often for Gerard to really focus on it; it's a normal occurrence, and dwelling on it would be as pointless as trying to remember how he came to be what he is now. He doesn't want to try and recall how the two of them got this close.
It's nerve wracking. He gets jealous. Angry. Frustrated. But strangely enough, it's not Frank that he finds himself mentally banishing from the population of Earth, but her. Her, the girl that stole him away in tenth grade, who attached herself to him as he glued their hands together, years and years and years ago, because no one at the time would ever love him as much as she did (the same glue still held, even as Frank leaned across the chair to swipe Gerard's hair out of his face and stretching the distance between his and her bodies distractedly). Her, the girl that had supported him and became his rock before the band. But what was she now?
Nothing, Gerard growled. She was nothing. She doesn't need to be here.
But when he looks over at her, her hand holding his tightly as her glassy eyes never leave the movie, he realizes something.
She's just as alone as he is.
Alone
She's like one of those little shaking dogs, Gerard thinks to himself, She's like a little tote bag.
Frank's running around, meeting and greeting and being who everyone thinks he is. Frank is who he is in every aspect of his life.
He's the guitarist onstage. The enigmatic one (combated only by Gerard's blatantly sinful behaviour to score a rise from the crowd). He's the trustworthy friend on balconies outside of luxury hotel rooms, where Gerard finds himself spilling out every swallowed depression and sinful action like a adolescent boy in Confession. He's the laughter in the group when all form of entertainment fails, and Gerard can't help but smile longingly at Frank's ability to capture anything he wants with such effortless attempts. Because that's the thing. Frank never means to.
That was my fault, Gerard smiles sadly, My fault. I fell hard.
But right now, Frank's playing boyfriend. Attractive, attentive, adorably arrogant boyfriend. And her hand is clasped tightly around his as they finally step out of the bus and bid their welcomes and thanks to the surrounding people that support them tonight. That help make the show run. And after every nod and every hello and every 'how do you do?' Frank tilts his head in next to Gerard's and whispers a little story or quote that adds just enough of stupidity and zaniness to the situation that Gerard can't help but break down into silent laughter, biting his cheek as Frank hisses (between little giggles), anecdotes that break down these strangers' lives into ridiculous tales worthy only in their own little world.
And he tugs on her hand to keep her up, and she's smiling as she trots along at his side with her college sweater hanging over her worn in jeans and bright eyes that stand out against a naturally tanned complexion.
She's lovely, Gerard would think to himself sometimes. She's lucky. So very lucky.
And when the show is finally over, they decide to stop for a movie before hitting the hotel, because there's never any time for things like this on the road. And they all miss it. He takes her hand and leads her into the nearly empty theatre, holding down the seat for her while grinning like a loon, before glancing up and waving Gerard over frantically, like there was a mob of people just waiting to take the seat next to Frank and his girl.
Because that's not third wheel at all, Gerard thinks with a snort, pausing quickly to abolish that disturbing thought before he takes his seat next to Frank, who immediately turns his face and starts making obscene moans while pressing his palm to Gerard's mouth and placing his own against the back. The illusion earns laughter from his girlfriend--
Fiancée? Gerard thinks. I don't remember what it is this week.
--and flying popcorn from the guys, who can't seem to decide between making hooting noises or gags of mock disgust. Mikey shouts something along the lines of 'if you can't share him Gerard, then just back off,' and the words send a jolt of unpleasant realization through his body. Frank seems unfazed as he leans off and stretches, yawning widely and giving Gerard a lopsided grin. She's tugging on his arm and pointing to a commercial on the screen, trying to get him to listen to her story, but he waves her off with a 'just one minute, sweetie!' finger in the air, turning back to Gerard to whisper, 'that was amazing, darh-ling, we must do it again sometime.'
You don't know what you're doing, Gerard thinks, staring at him with a look he's sure conveys more than is acceptable, but Frank actually returns it, his hand making a sudden movement as if to touch Gerard, before remembering that his fingers are intertwined harshly with hers.
Things like this happen far too often for Gerard to really focus on it; it's a normal occurrence, and dwelling on it would be as pointless as trying to remember how he came to be what he is now. He doesn't want to try and recall how the two of them got this close.
It's nerve wracking. He gets jealous. Angry. Frustrated. But strangely enough, it's not Frank that he finds himself mentally banishing from the population of Earth, but her. Her, the girl that stole him away in tenth grade, who attached herself to him as he glued their hands together, years and years and years ago, because no one at the time would ever love him as much as she did (the same glue still held, even as Frank leaned across the chair to swipe Gerard's hair out of his face and stretching the distance between his and her bodies distractedly). Her, the girl that had supported him and became his rock before the band. But what was she now?
Nothing, Gerard growled. She was nothing. She doesn't need to be here.
But when he looks over at her, her hand holding his tightly as her glassy eyes never leave the movie, he realizes something.
She's just as alone as he is.
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