FicWad

OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhFuck.
I sat down opposite him. OhGod. What was I thinking? This guy had completely rejected me, then ignored me till now. Yet he was practically pulling a muscle trying to get me to sit with him.
Silence. Nothing but awkward fucking silence.
I opened my mouth to say something. But he beat me to it.
“I guess you’re wondering what the hell you’re doing here?”
I looked down at the dirty table, playing with some leftover sugar, “Yes. Apart from you were waving like a maniac…I figured I should come over before you pulled something.”
He giggled nervously. “I had to make sure you came over here… Mikey threatened me.”
“Oh.” Disappointment sank into my stomach and the strange feeling of grief that was oh so out of place threatened to engulf me. I felt like I’d been hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer.
A look of concern flitted across his face as mine crumpled in pain. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I muttered tightly, concentrating on the sugar again.
“Okay then…” He lapsed into silence.
“About yesterday morning Frank...”
“What about it?” He said defensively.
“What was the deal with that? you kissed /me/, remember? I don’t understand why you reacted the way you did.” I hissed, frustrated and annoyed at Frank, but not enough to make a scene in Starbucks, where it would most likely make tabloids that morning.
“I was caught off guard, Gee.” His hazel eyes met mine. “Mikey, walking up on us like that… it was so sudden. I reacted badly, I know that.”
I sighed, looking down at the table again. It didn’t help that he used his nickname for me – ‘Gee’ – no one else ever called me that.
“You confuse me so much, Frankie.” I said slowly, weighing my words. There, my turn to remind him of how close we are…were…could be. “I ne–“
“I confuse you, Gee? What about the fact I felt the strangest urge to kiss you the other morning? You! My best friend, a band-mate and definitely not least, a guy. A fucking guy Gee.” His hands were strangling the coffee mug it’s contents now forgotten.
There was a long silence. I was vaguely aware of the fact I was in Starbucks, though whenever I was with Frank I always had troubles remembering my name, let alone where I was. I inhaled sharply and felt my stomach fall away as I asked the question that had been on my mind ever since that morning.

“Do you regret it?” I whispered, my eyes still on the sugar triangle I’d shaped. If I concentrated on it any more it’d probably blow up. I nearly smiled at that thought.. Then I noticed he wasn’t answering. I thought he hadn’t heard me so I opened my mouth to ask again.
He looked me dead in the eye, leaving me with my mouth hanging open. “No, Gee, I don’t regret it. I just need to figure some stuff out in my head before it happens again.”
My breath caught in my throat, like my heart was trying to throw itself across the table and it had gotten in the way of me breathing. I swallowed with difficulty, managing to get “Okay…” out.
He paused, his hazel eyes seemingly questioning me [probably more specifically: my sanity] before he shrugged the thought away.
“We’d better head off before either Mikey finds us here or that damned paranoid manager of ours figures out we’re gone.” He grinned, that one where he knows exactly what he’s doing wrong but doesn’t really give a shit. “Though, we could stay here, I’m sick of that hotel already and I was only there five minutes.” He smiled again, looking at me. Unfortunately I’d been halfway standing up already, so I tripped and nearly axed myself on the table.
He caught my arm, steadying me. “Fuck, you’re eager, you’re nearly flying out the door.”
I giggled weakly, “Yeah, I think I need a cigarette, then shower, then bed.” If only he knew the real reason for my unco-ordination – he quite literally took the breath right out of me.
“Hmm, that actually sounds like a bloody good idea. You’re not gonna fall over again right?” He asked teasingly.
I poked my tongue out at him, turning to stalk off but only running into some poor lady. I pushed around them with a “sorry…” thrown in before I pulled out a smoke and walked out the door, ignoring Frank as he dissolved into hysterics. I was halfway down the block when Frankie caught up with me, short of breath already.
“Bloody cigarettes are gonna kill me.” He gasped as he lit one.
“Oh yeah, they kill you just to keep you alive.”

We made our way back to the hotel in silence, not able to talk as our smoker’s lungs struggled with the light exercise.