Anywhere But Home: Part 1 of ? Fuck if I know
Frank has a secret that's not so secret anymore. Warning: self-destructive behavior
Frank pulled away from the tree, leaning on it as he stood up. He steadied himself against the strong bark before wiping his hand on the grass and scraping his tongue with his teeth. He rolled his pants back down from where they were bunched above his knee, grabbed his bag, and set off for home.
He was a long way out and it would take almost a half hour to get back home if he didn’t go anywhere but straight. But that wasn’t what Frank wanted to do. He didn’t want to go back to the bandhouse or to his room. He wanted to go…somewhere. Somewhere else, far away or even close by, it didn’t matter so long as he didn’t have to see the look on Linke and Juri’s faces. Or David’s, either, now that the guitarist had started to realize the things going on around him.
Timo didn’t know yet but soon David would tell him. David told Timo everything. Frank couldn’t see that conversation going well. Timo would likely confront him, yelling the same words Linke already had and Juri, too. It would be messy. Timo would want to do something about it, especially once he started connecting the dots, once he started understanding all the little clues that Frank hadn’t been able to hide.
The strap of his bag finally cutting too deeply into his shoulder, Frank sighed and took his phone out. With a shaky, barely controlled movement, he settled on the sidewalk, his feet stuck out into the bicycle lane. He took out his phone and pressed the keys. His phone rang once before it was picked up.
“Juri?” Frank asked quietly. “Can you come pick me up?”
ØØØ
Frank could not look at Juri as they drove through the dark streets. It was nearly midnight and the sidewalks were almost empty, only a few drunken teenagers stumbling their way to the nearest disco. Thursday was never a popular time to go out.
“You want to tell me where you’ve been?” Juri asked, his lips thinned and the anger more than obvious in his voice.
“No,” Frank said simply. Juri shook his head, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
“Fine. But you’re explaining to Jan why I took his keys to come get you.”
“Please don’t make me talk to him,” Frank said, looking at Juri for the first time. Juri glanced at him from the corner of his eye and sighed.
“These are your choices that you're making, Frank,” Juri said.
Frank could have sworn Juri’s next word was “idiot” but, try as he might, he couldn’t be sure. It did not matter; Juri was angry, had been angry for a long time, and a few moments alone together weren't going to fix that.
Frank pulled away from the tree, leaning on it as he stood up. He steadied himself against the strong bark before wiping his hand on the grass and scraping his tongue with his teeth. He rolled his pants back down from where they were bunched above his knee, grabbed his bag, and set off for home.
He was a long way out and it would take almost a half hour to get back home if he didn’t go anywhere but straight. But that wasn’t what Frank wanted to do. He didn’t want to go back to the bandhouse or to his room. He wanted to go…somewhere. Somewhere else, far away or even close by, it didn’t matter so long as he didn’t have to see the look on Linke and Juri’s faces. Or David’s, either, now that the guitarist had started to realize the things going on around him.
Timo didn’t know yet but soon David would tell him. David told Timo everything. Frank couldn’t see that conversation going well. Timo would likely confront him, yelling the same words Linke already had and Juri, too. It would be messy. Timo would want to do something about it, especially once he started connecting the dots, once he started understanding all the little clues that Frank hadn’t been able to hide.
The strap of his bag finally cutting too deeply into his shoulder, Frank sighed and took his phone out. With a shaky, barely controlled movement, he settled on the sidewalk, his feet stuck out into the bicycle lane. He took out his phone and pressed the keys. His phone rang once before it was picked up.
“Juri?” Frank asked quietly. “Can you come pick me up?”
ØØØ
Frank could not look at Juri as they drove through the dark streets. It was nearly midnight and the sidewalks were almost empty, only a few drunken teenagers stumbling their way to the nearest disco. Thursday was never a popular time to go out.
“You want to tell me where you’ve been?” Juri asked, his lips thinned and the anger more than obvious in his voice.
“No,” Frank said simply. Juri shook his head, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
“Fine. But you’re explaining to Jan why I took his keys to come get you.”
“Please don’t make me talk to him,” Frank said, looking at Juri for the first time. Juri glanced at him from the corner of his eye and sighed.
“These are your choices that you're making, Frank,” Juri said.
Frank could have sworn Juri’s next word was “idiot” but, try as he might, he couldn’t be sure. It did not matter; Juri was angry, had been angry for a long time, and a few moments alone together weren't going to fix that.