Cover To Cover [part 3]
Cover To Cover
[ index] - [ one] - [ two] - [three] - [ four] - [ mixes]
Hey, so… My boyfriend and I just broke up last night. I’m actually totally okay with it. I broke up with him. Well, it was mutual. He broke up with me at the same time. It was really the best break-up I’ve ever been through. I mean, we’re still friends and he’s got his eye on some hot drummer or something, which is cool. I’m happy for him.
So now I’m unemployed and single and still living with my ex while he’s moving on and having a life and a career. And he’s probably going to start moving out soon and I’ll be alone for real. On top of all that, I woke up this morning coughing up a lung. Wow, I suck at life. Uh. Sorry for the awkwardness of this email. I just… thought you should know.
xo
f
Gerard’s heart leaps-it’s a false hope, he knows it’s a totally false hope, but he just can’t help feeling hopeful-and that, more than anything, convinces him to bite the bullet and end things with Brian.
You don’t suck at life, he writes. He takes a deep breath.
You’re moving into some new stage of life. It’s a good thing. I’m doing that too. I’m actually about to go break up with my boyfriend, because we’re not in love and I’m holding him back by keeping him tied down like this. I hope tonight goes as well for me as last night did for you. And I’m sorry you’re sick, that totally sucks. Make some tea and get some rest, that’s what my mom always told me.
Gerard hits send and snaps his laptop closed.
***
“I can’t keep doing this to you. To both of us.”
“What are you talking about?”
Brian’s in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, and he’s still clutching a spiral-bound notebook with a pen stuck in the binding.
“Can I come in?” Gerard asks. “I need to talk to you.”
Brian gives him a bewildered sort of shrug and opens the door wider to let Gerard through. Gerard looks around; he’s never quite prepared for the amount of clutter in Brian’s apartment. It just doesn’t seem right. But he supposes Brian knows exactly where everything is.
“Is everything okay?” Brian asks slowly. “You wanna sit down?”
“No. I mean. No, it’s not really okay, but yes, let’s sit.” He follows Brian to the couch and perches on the very edge. “I can’t keep us in this weird grey area,” he says. “Mikey says I’m needy and clingy, and I just realized that he’s totally right, Brian, and I’m really sorry for being so dependent on you.”
“Gerard, shut the fuck up for a minute,” Brian snaps. Gerard shuts up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think we need to break up,” Gerard blurts out. “I love you, Brian, I do, I just-”
“Whoa, hold on,” Brian says. “Slow down, okay?”
Gerard keeps his mouth shut and lets Brian process whatever spewed out of him a minute ago. He should have planned this better. Thought of something to say, at least, so he wouldn’t stumble around and let it all come out like a stream-of-conscious crazy person speech.
“You think we need to break up,” Brian says. “You and Mikey think you’re too needy and clingy, and this means you need to be independent?”
“Essentially.”
“Is there something else?”
“Mikey says I’m holding you back. And I totally am, Brian, I’m so selfish. I didn’t even think about you, before. I was just so scared of being alone forever that I didn’t want to admit that things weren’t the same anymore, and I didn’t even think that maybe you felt trapped.”
“I don’t feel trapped…” Brian replies slowly.
“What do you feel, then?”
Brian’s quiet for a moment. “I guess… I didn’t really think about it at all.”
“You’re not in love with me, are you?” Gerard asks.
“Gee, I-”
“No, I understand. I love you, but I’m not in love with you like I was last year. And I think it’s the same for you, right?” Brian lowers his eyes and nods. “It’s okay. We just grew up, I think. You got really serious about the store-”
“And you didn’t,” Brian teases.
“-and I didn’t want anything to change, but it did. But now we can both move on, right? Now we can both be happy?”
Brian reaches over and squeezes Gerard’s knee. “Yeah, now we can be happy.”
Gerard scoots closer and gives Brian a sideways hug. “I just didn’t want to lock you into this relationship anymore, because it’s not right. You get that, right? I just want you to be happy.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Brian assures him. Gerard takes a deep breath and feels most of the tension drain out of him. “Is this what’s been bothering you lately?”
“Some of it.”
“Will you tell me the rest?” Brian prods.
“I think I’m falling in love,” Gerard whispers. “I’m not leaving you for him; he doesn’t even like me. But it just made me realize that our relationship isn’t like that anymore.”
Brian kisses the side of Gerard’s head and rocks him a little bit. “You’re going to find someone that will make you happy, Gerard. Stop worrying about it so much. It’ll happen.”
“What about you?”
“I think I’ll get over you.”
“Seriously, Brian.”
“I think I’ll find someone too,” Brian replies. Gerard suddenly remembers Frank’s email about his friend ‘Rob’, and Brian hiring Bob Bryar from Frank’s shop. “Besides, I’ve got the store to worry about now. We survived the grand opening, but now it’s my job to make sure we turn a profit.”
Gerard breaks into a smile. Brian somehow manages to turn every conversation into one about work. At least he’s dedicated.
“Hey, I was thinking. The guy with the shop, Frank? I was thinking about offering him a job at the store. A manager or something. I mean, he’s obviously capable, and it would probably be a pay raise, and he can work with his friends again…”
“He’ll never do it,” Gerard says confidently. Frank’s too proud to accept a job at the place that put him out of job. He probably wouldn’t accept even if he was living in a cardboard box on the street. “He holds grudges.”
“Yeah,” Brian sighs. “I figure it’s at least worth a try.”
“Do you ever feel bad? About his shop, I mean?”
“It’s business, Gerard. You can’t let your personal feelings affect business, you know that.”
Gerard nods and falls silent for a moment. “It sucks, though.”
“Yeah,” Brian agrees quietly. “It does.”
***
Frank sneezes violently into a tissue and then holds his head in his hands, waiting for the dizziness to pass. When his doorbell rings, he groans loudly.
“Go away.”
Of course, the person ringing the doorbell can’t hear him, and it rings again.
Frank forces himself to his feet and over to the front door, and then leans against the wall to speak into the intercom. “What?”
“Frank? It’s Gerard. Uh, Gerard Way. May I please come up?” comes the crackly response.
“Fuck,” Frank breathes, then sneezes again, nearly braining himself on the doorframe. He presses the button. “What the fuck? Go away. I mean, uh, why are you even here? I’m kind of-” He sneezes yet again, and then makes a face at the intercom and tries to pretend there’s not snot all over it. “I’m kind of sick.”
“That sucks,” Gerard replies eloquently.
“So go away,” Frank says. “Besides not wanting to see you, of all people, in my own apartment after you put me out of a job, I’m really not in any-” This time he turns away from the intercom to sneeze, and he wishes again he had his tissue box. “I’m not in any state to talk. And as much as I hate you, I don’t want to pass this fucking cold or whatever it is-”
There’s a knock at the door. Frank yelps and stumbles away from it, grabbing at the table to keep himself upright.
“Frank?” Gerard asks, voice muffled by the door. “You okay?”
“Shit!” Frank whispers. “Shit, fuck, shit, what the fucking fuck-”
Frank looks through the peephole and sees Gerard’s gigantic bobble-head and a bouquet of white and purple flowers and he looks so goddamn amazing that Frank actually kind of does want to let him in. He groans and turns around to look at the room. There are used tissues on every surface, because he filled up the trashcan and hasn’t had the energy to take it out yet, and there’s a pile of dirty blankets on the floor by the couch, and Frank has been wearing the same fleece pajamas for days and hasn’t had a shower and he probably looks awful. And he’s dripping snot. He wants to bash his head against the wall.
He sneezes again and actually does hit the wall, but only with his shoulder. He wipes his nose quickly and shakes his head to clear the fuzziness, and then he looks back through the peephole. Gerard is leaning closer to the door now, looking concerned. Frank watches him lift his hand and knock again, softer this time.
“Frankie?”
“Fuck. Hold on a second!”
He wipes his nose on his arm and yanks his winter coat off its hook by the door. He wraps it tightly around his body and shuffles quickly back to the door.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, flinging it open.
Gerard smiles at him. “I heard you were sick.”
“Uh. Yes. I am. Obviously.”
Gerard holds out the flowers. “I brought you flowers.”
“That’s… sweet.” Frank takes them and holds them up to his face, but with his nose all stuffed up, he can’t smell anything. It feels nice against his skin, though, the cool petals and leaves brushing his cheeks. “Thanks?”
“You’re welcome.”
“You shouldn’t be here-”
“You look hot, Frank,” Gerard says, and Frank rolls his eyes. “I mean. Well. I mean that, but I also mean you look like you’re about to pass out. Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” Frank whines. “I’m fucking sick and I can’t smell my flowers.”
Gerard reaches towards him and presses the back of his hand to Frank’s forehead before Frank can recognize the action and stop him. He plucks the flowers out of Frank’s hands. “Frankie, you’re running a fever, you need to sit down and rest. I’ll put these in water and make tea. Do you have tea? Or soup, do you have any of that? Are you hungry?”
“I’m-” Frank watches in blurry confusion as Gerard shoulders his way into the apartment and starts heading for the kitchen as if he knows exactly where everything is. “Okay. Okay, yes,” he finishes, mostly to himself.
Gerard comes back a moment later without the flowers. He turns Frank around and marches him toward the couch, and then disappears into the kitchen again. Frank grabs his box of tissues and holds it close to his chest.
“Do you have medicine?” Gerard calls. “Do you need to take something?”
Frank sneezes and gives no other response. He doesn’t need to. Gerard comes back with a bottle of Nyquil, squinting at the instructions on the back. He then looks down at Frank.
“You should really be in bed.”
“Why are you here?” Frank asks again. He’s trying to hold onto his anger, but it’s fading fast; he’s always lonelier when he’s sick.
“I heard you were sick, and I felt kind of bad,” Gerard admits.
“For ruining my way of life and destroying my shop?” Frank replies bitterly. He tightens his fist around a tissue. “You’re not going to offer me a job, are you?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that.”
“Your boyfriend sent me an email about-”
“He’s not my-”
“Oh, so you just fuck him sometimes? You probably fuck a lot of your employees, don’t you, Mr. Big Shot. Well, excuse me for not jumping at the chance to work for you.”
Gerard’s jaw drops. “We broke up,” he finally replies.
“Oh,” Frank says stupidly. “Fuck, everyone’s breaking up. You, me, this guy I know online… Hey, maybe now Bob can make a move.”
Gerard sinks down on the couch next to him. “Frank, I’m sorry I put you out of business. It wasn’t… It wasn’t personal.”
“It wasn’t personal. People always fucking say that. It was fucking personal to me. That was my dad’s shop. That was my grandpa’s shop. That was the only fucking thing I had left of them, and you swooped in and took it all away with your stupid superstore.”
“I never meant to do that to you,” Gerard says quietly. “But I’m not a superstore. I have my reasons for doing things the way I do them.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re fucking rich, and rich people are always thinking about the fucking money. There’s no spirit in your store, Gerard.”
Gerard actually looks hurt, and Frank inwardly cheers in victory. His triumph doesn’t last long, though. Gerard stares sadly down at his lap and Frank feels the creeping shadow of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m sorry you think that,” Gerard says. “I created my store the way I did because I wanted something for everyone, and I wanted a fucking coffee shop, and I wanted cushy chairs and big tables and so many books, Frank, I wanted it to be a place for me. And it is, and I’m not going to apologize for that.”
“Sorry,” Frank says, ashamed. “I’m sick, I don’t mean half the shit that comes out of my mouth.”
“You meant that,” Gerard replies, smiling a little sadly. “I’m making tea.”
“You don’t have to-”
“Shut up, Frank.”
Frank shuts up. Then he sneezes.
“You need to go to bed, Frank. I’ll bring you your tea and your flowers.”
“Okay,” Frank says wearily. He lets Gerard pull him up off the couch and start him walking down the hall.
“Bedroom?”
Frank nods at the door on the right and Gerard steers him toward it.
“Coat off.”
“Nngh,” Frank mumbles, trying to cling to it, but Gerard just yanks it off his shoulders, and Frank’s left standing there in his fleece pajamas with little smiling yellow stars and moons staring back at them.
“Nice pjs,” Gerard murmurs, and Frank sees the hint of a smile in Gerard’s lips. “I guess if you can still fit into kids’ sizes…”
“Shut up, I’m not that fucking small.”
“I’m just joking. They’re cute.”
Frank rolls his eyes. Gerard pushes him onto the bed and throws the blanket over him and says he’ll be right back. While Gerard’s out of the room, Frank blows his nose and tries to clear all the used tissues off the nightstand. There’s nowhere for them to go but the floor, though, so he puts them all in a little pile on the edge of the nightstand, a little tissue pyramid.
Gerard returns carrying a steaming mug of tea, the flowers in a vase Frank didn’t know he had, and the bottle of Nyquil tucked under his arm. He arranges everything on the small nightstand and then tucks the blankets in around Frank, pulled up to his chin.
“Drink your tea, and when you’re done, drink the Nyquil and get some sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“Gerard-”
“I’ll see myself out. Goodnight, Frank.”
“Gerard, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Gerard mutters, looking sad again. “I probably deserve it.”
“No, you don’t. I’m just being an asshole. Thank you for the flowers.”
Gerard gives him a steady look and whispers, “You’re welcome.” He backs out of the room and eases the door closed behind him, and Frank listens to him walk through the apartment and leave through the front door.
***
The weirdest fucking thing happened yesterday. That guy heard from someone that I was sick, and he showed up at my apartment and brought me flowers. I don’t know if it was some fucking apology for putting me out of a job or what, but I was an asshole to him (again), and this time I know he didn’t deserve that shit. I think I should apologize for real, but… He still ruined my career and took away my last connection to my dad and my grandpa, and that fucking stings. He can’t just waltz in and expect us to be best friends, you know?
Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve just been ranting these past few weeks. Totally self-absorbed. I’m such an asshole! I’m finally feeling a little bit better, so I think I’m going to take a walk through the market and enjoy the fresh air. It’s been forever since I’ve had time to do that. But I’ll shut up now! How are you? How’s your brother and sister-in-law? Tell me about your day.
Gerard shakes his head in amusement as he reads Frank’s email. He doesn’t just expect them to be best friends immediately, as Frank says, but it seems like Frank’s starting to open up a little, which is progress.
Gerard feels like a total creep.
But he still grabs his keys and heads out the door.
He spots Frank, bundled up in a coat and fuzzy scarf despite the mild weather, after about twenty minutes of blatant searching, and heads casually in Frank’s direction. They bump into each other at a booth selling asparagus, which Gerard thinks are gross, but apparently Frank likes them.
“Hey, you feeling better?” Gerard asks.
Frank whips around, surprised, and nearly drops the asparagus. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you,” Gerard says slowly. “I live around here, and it’s a nice day today.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling a little better,” Frank finally answers. “Thanks for the flowers. And the tea, and… everything. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Gerard replies, shrugging.
“How’d you hear I was sick, anyway?”
“Oh,” Gerard hedges, “you know, through the grapevine. We know a lot of the same people.”
“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be at work?” Frank asks pointedly.
“Brian pretty much runs the place. I don’t have to be there all the time.” Gerard watches Frank put back the asparagus and move on to a display with strawberries. “I get kind of bored during the day, sometimes,” he finishes.
Frank glances back over his shoulder at Gerard, a guarded, considering look on his face. After a long moment, he says, “What are you doing tomorrow, then?”
Gerard shrugs. “Not much planned.”
Frank nods and doesn’t reply. He pays for the carton of strawberries and gestures for Gerard to follow him through the market. They end up at a deli, and Frank bites his lip nervously. Gerard decides to take pity on him.
“You want to grab something to eat?” he asks, tilting his head toward the entrance.
Frank meets Gerard’s eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
They stand in line to order together, but they’re both uncomfortably silent until they sit down at a table. Frank sneezes into a tissue and proceeds to fold it up and tuck it back into his pocket with intense concentration.
“So, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Gerard begins awkwardly.
“Me too. Uh, sorry about you and your boyfriend,” Frank replies.
“Thanks. You too.”
Gerard is intensely aware of the fact that he and Frank are both recently single, and they’re out at lunch, and it feels almost like a date. Except about a thousand times more awkward than any first date Gerard’s ever been on, which he didn’t think was possible. He takes a long drink of his soda and when he puts down his plastic cup, he gives Frank a determined smile.
“So you know that time we met at that coffee shop? You were waiting for someone? Did you ever meet him?”
Frank relaxes a tiny bit. “He never showed up.”
“He stood you up?”
“Oh my god,” Frank says, rolling his eyes. “He apologized later. He’s a really nice guy!”
“Hey, I’m not judging,” Gerard says, throwing his hands up in a gesture of peace. “If he’s so nice, how come you haven’t met him yet?”
Frank shrugs. “It just hasn’t come up.”
“You should ask him out. You’re single now, and you said he’s single, right? Maybe there’s something-”
“Shut up!” Frank laughs. He seems to catch himself and quiet down, though, which is a little sad to watch. Gerard hates that Frank feels like he has to censor himself like that. But Frank just accepts the challenge with a satisfied look in his eye and says, “Maybe I will ask him out.”
Gerard nods skeptically. “Okay, sure.”
“As friends. We haven’t even met yet.”
“Yeah, Frankie. Ask him out. See what he says.”
“I’m going to ask him,” Frank says confidently. He takes a bite of his sandwich. “I’m thinking of going to the park tomorrow. Maybe if you’re not busy-”
“Maybe I’ll see you there.”
***
Gerard isn’t at all surprised when an email comes in the next morning asking if they could try again to meet in person. He rattles off a lame excuse and goes to meet Frank in the park.
“He said he’s got a big project at work.”
Frank is wrapped up in his scarf and coat again, sitting on a bench with one foot on the opposite knee. Gerard sits down next to him.
“Could be the truth,” he offers.
“It’s totally the truth. He’s not a liar,” Frank insists.
“He could’ve come up with a better excuse,” Gerard mutters under his breath.
“Okay, shut up, he’s just busy!”
“What did he say, exactly?”
Frank sighs and doesn’t meet Gerard’s gaze. “I wish I could, but I just got a huge project dumped on me at the last minute. I’m swamped, sorry.”
“Yep, the old ‘stuck with a sudden project’ excuse. Dude, I was using that in college.”
Frank gives into a quick laugh. “You’re such an asshole.”
Gerard doesn’t know how to reply to that. He’s not sure if Frank’s still a little serious about it.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Frank asks after a beat.
Deciding he should at least say something to look like he’s not going to be stalking Frank, Gerard answers, “Might go see a movie. Want to come?”
Frank looks around the park for a long moment. “Yeah, sure. Nothing better to do.”
“Yeah,” Gerard says quietly.
“You have my number?”
Gerard nods and stands up, reaching down to pull Frank to his feet as well. Frank’s hands are warm and he takes a second too long to let go.
***
Frank sees Gerard’s tangled mess of black hair from across the street. He walks up quietly and taps Gerard on the shoulder, grinning when Gerard jumps in surprise.
“Hey! Uh, hope you don’t mind, I bought you a ticket already. Didn’t want it to sell out while I was waiting for you.”
Gerard holds out a movie ticket and Frank takes it carefully out of his hand. “No, it’s cool, thanks. What are we seeing?”
“The original Halloween. Seemed like your kind of thing.”
“My birthday’s on Halloween,” Frank says. “Totally my kind of thing.”
Gerard’s answering smile is a lot softer than Frank expected, but he’s pleased to see it anyway. He takes Gerard’s arm and pulls him toward the door.
“Come on. You bought the tickets, I’ll buy the popcorn.”
***
After the movie, Frank follows Gerard as they walk aimlessly through the streets. He loves the city at night, the way all the lights make the sky glow a little. He’s getting the feeling Gerard likes it too.
“You hungry?” Gerard asks, after they’ve walked a few blocks from the theater.
Frank doesn’t bother answering. Gerard leads him to a little Italian restaurant and requests a table for two. It’s hard for Italian restaurants not to look romantic, with the candles and the cursive font on the menus. Frank licks his lips nervously. This feels like a real date.
“You totally planned this,” Frank says, smiling to take the edge off. Gerard shrugs and gives him an innocent look.
The waiter comes over and asks what they’d like to drink, and Frank glances at the menu then up at Gerard. “Bottle of wine?” he asks.
Gerard meets his eyes steadily. “I actually don’t drink anymore.” He turns to the waiter. “I’ll just have water, please.”
Frank can’t think of anything to say, so he stares back down at his menu. The waiter’s hovering beside him, waiting on his order.
“You can have it if you want, Frank,” Gerard says softly.
“Make that two waters, thanks,” Frank tells the waiter, so they can finally be left alone again. He looks up at Gerard and raises an eyebrow questioningly.
“I had a rough time for a while,” Gerard answers simply. “I was in a bad place, and I thought drinking would help. It didn’t, so I don’t try anymore.”
Frank still doesn’t know what to say. He’s not sure what the etiquette is, how to respond to a story like that. Is it appropriate to say I’m sorry? He finally settles on, “Thanks for telling me,” which is honest, at least.
“You didn’t have to do that for me, Frank, it doesn’t bother me.”
Frank rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna sit here and drink in front of you.”
“Suit yourself.”
“I am.”
Gerard looks down and fiddles with the corner of his cloth napkin, and Frank can see a hint of a smile at the edges of Gerard’s mouth.
“So,” Frank says, changing the subject awkwardly, “apparently my friend Bob and your ex-boyfriend are dating again.”
“Each other?” Gerard asks with wide eyes.
Frank gives him a look. “Yes, Gerard, why else would I have mentioned it?”
“I didn’t expect Brian to move so fast.”
“What do you mean?” Frank asks, cocking his head.
“When Brian and I got together, we were both kind of on the rebound, which is probably why it didn’t work out between us. He needed to get over his old college boyfriend-Bob, apparently-and I’d just broken up with a crazy girlfriend so I needed to get my life back in order, and, well. You know how organized Brian is. I thought he could help, and he did. I think it was what we both needed.”
“I didn’t know you dated girls,” Frank chuckles.
“Of course that’s what you focus on. Man, she was insane. Like, legit crazy and obsessive. I had to get a fucking restraining order. She even started stalking Mikey.” Gerard shakes his napkin out of its creative folds with a violent snap.
“That’s pretty fucked up. Why the hell did you…” Frank trails off, because he thinks he knows.
“I was pretty fucked up, at the time,” Gerard replies simply, and Frank nods.
“You’re better now,” he says, not a question.
Gerard grins. “So I’m told.”
It’s late and the restaurant isn’t very busy, so they take their time. Even after spending a few days with Gerard, Frank is surprised at how easy it is to talk to him, and how much they have in common, despite their differences. Gerard is charming, smart, pretty damn nerdy, all the things Frank looks for in friends and, yeah, boyfriends. By the time the candle at their table burns itself out, Frank finds himself wishing things were a little bit different.
Gerard snags the check, when it comes. Frank wrinkles his nose, but Gerard shakes his head sternly.
“You’re unemployed and it’s my fault, let me get this. Besides, you were right, I totally planned this dinner. My treat, okay?”
“I’m taking you out for coffee tomorrow,” Frank counters, and Gerard breaks into a smile.
“I have an idea, actually.”
Frank waits, but Gerard doesn’t continue. Gerard pays the bill, they don their jackets and head out the door, and Gerard insists on walking Frank back to his apartment. They don’t speak the entire time, but the silence is weirdly companionable.
“What’s your idea?” Frank finally asks as they approach his building.
“Come to my store, Frankie,” Gerard requests softly.
Frank turns away. “I don’t know if I can-”
“Please,” Gerard interrupts. “Frank. I want to show it to you. I want to explain, I want you to understand why.”
“Why what?”
“Why I don’t have a little shop like yours. Please, Frank. There’s a coffee shop on the first floor. Meet me there tomorrow. You don’t have to stay long, if you don’t want to.”
Frank really never intended to go inside Gerard’s store. Ever. The whole idea of it still makes him want to punch Gerard in the face, and things were going so well between them. Gerard doesn’t say anything more, but when Frank looks at him, he realizes he can’t refuse. Frank nods, not trusting his voice, and turns around to go inside.
He closes the door behind him and looks through the window. Gerard waves goodbye. Frank waves back before he can talk himself out of it.
***
Frank shows up at the store in a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and an unhappy expression on his face. He looks like a teenager about to steal something. Gerard watches Frank’s face as he takes in the large, open space and the aisles of books, and finally, the grand staircase to the second and third floors. Frank’s eyes eventually catch on Gerard and he peels himself away from the banister to greet him.
Frank doesn’t take his hands out of his pockets. His shoulders are hunched up a bit, and Gerard had no idea this would be so uncomfortable for him.
“Well, I’m here,” Frank mutters.
With an encouraging smile, Gerard takes Frank by the elbow and leads him toward the café. “You still gonna buy me coffee?”
“Deal’s a deal,” Frank says.
They give their orders and move to the line in front of the register. “You don’t have to pay,” Gerard murmurs under his breath.
“Fuck you,” Frank replies stiffly. He pays for the coffee and tells the barista to keep the change. She glances at Gerard, uncertain, and he rolls his eyes and nods at her to keep it.
Gerard lets Frank choose the table and waits for him to sit down before pulling out the opposite chair.
“So why am I here?”
Gerard’s a little put off by Frank’s hostile attitude, but he smiles and tries not to let it affect him. “I want to tell you a story about me and Mikey when we were kids. Will you listen?”
Frank nods grudgingly.
“We weren’t all that popular in school, as you can probably imagine,” Gerard begins. “We both skipped class a lot, stayed in our rooms most weekends, things like that. After a while, my parents kind of got fed up with us. They said we needed to go out and make friends, have fun, go to parties… They basically wouldn’t let us stay home all the time.”
“You’re like the opposite of runaways,” Frank says wryly.
“Yeah, totally. And we were nerds, Frank. We went to the library. We’d hang out there for a few hours, go home, and pretend we’d been out with our friends.” Gerard catches the ghost of a smile on Frank’s face and he goes after it. “I was the biggest loser ever, all through high school. I’m sure it’s not hard to picture.”
“It’s not.”
“Thank you. So me and Mikey spent a lot of time together, reading books. Lots of comic books, lots of young adult stuff. Sometimes I’d read them aloud to him, because he said he liked when I did the voices.”
Frank’s actively trying to contain his smile, now, and Gerard’s pretty sure he’s won this round.
“We both went to college in New York, and we came home one summer and found out the library near our house had closed. It turned into a fucking strip mall or something. So we started looking for a place in New York to start up a store just for us. Well, everyone, obviously, but it was like, to pay homage to that library where we basically grew up together.
“That store went through… I think three expansions? And sometime during that, Mikey met Alicia and moved back to Jersey, and I kind of decided to follow them home. We were lucky to have enough money to start up this place. I think it’s obvious why we did, right?”
Frank nods and glances around a little. Gerard stands up and offers Frank his hand.
“Walk with me? I’ll give you the grand tour.”
Frank allows Gerard to pull him to his feet.
They wander through the first-floor shelves together, pausing occasionally to pull out a book and glance at the cover. When they reach one of the cozy little seating areas, Frank gestures around them.
“Why this? Why not a shop like mine?”
Gerard flops into one of the cushy chairs, holding his coffee aloft so it doesn’t spill. “I had a lot of trouble deciding what I wanted to do with my life,” he says. “For a while, I wanted to draw, but I didn’t have the patience. Then I wanted to write. Mikey’s always said I’m a good storyteller-”
“You are.”
“-but I guess I didn’t have a knack for putting words down on paper. I’ve gone through so many books, taken so many classes, trying to figure myself out. My problem was that I was interested in everything, so I couldn’t narrow it down.”
Frank shrugs, looking confused. He perches on the arm of another chair.
“I wanted this place to have everything. The New York store isn’t as organized, since it started much smaller, but I planned this one. With Brian’s help. I wanted it to have everything I like, everything anybody likes, because I want everyone to feel comfortable here. I want everyone to have a place like me and Mikey did, where we could explore and grow up, and I was tired of being the fucking outcast, so I made it a place for people.”
Gerard feels his cheeks flush and looks down quickly. Mikey’s really the only person he’s told that story to, and since Mikey was there for most of it, he doesn’t count. He stays quiet, waiting for Frank’s response. It takes a long time to come.
“I like…” he begins slowly, “that you know what you want, even if not knowing is what made you realize it. I like that you’re obviously passionate about it.”
“What don’t you like?” Gerard asks hesitantly.
“I don’t know what I want,” Frank admits in a whisper. “I’ve never been passionate about anything the way you are about this place.”
Frank gets to his feet and turns his back on Gerard before he can think of a reply. Gerard lurches out of the chair and stumbles after him, still searching for words.
Frank obviously doesn’t want to talk, though. He pulls a book off the shelf and hands it to Gerard when he catches up. “Have you read it?” he asks.
Gerard looks down to read the title. “No. You?”
Frank shrugs. “Thought I’d ask.”
Gerard puts the book back with a sigh and Frank moves on.
“I think I should go,” Frank says. They’re nearing the exit, and white noise of the busy store comes back into focus. Gerard catches Frank by the arm and holds him still.
“Finish your coffee with me,” he murmurs. “Don’t leave yet.”
Frank shakes his cup so Gerard can hear the muted rattle of liquid. “Not much left.”
Gerard holds up his own and shakes it in reply. “I do. Stay with me. I want to ask you about your internet boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Frank groans, rolling his eyes. He follows Gerard to the café again.
“But you want him to be, don’t you?” Gerard presses.
“We haven’t even met yet!”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been too busy hanging out with you.”
“Is that so terrible?”
Frank gives him a look. “Don’t make me say yes.”
“Okay, okay, calm down,” Gerard says, flapping his hand at Frank.
“I’m gonna meet him soon. We just haven’t figured out when and where. He’s the one with the suddenly busy schedule,” Frank explains quietly. He drains the rest of his coffee and stands up to throw away the cup.
“What’s his username?” Gerard asks on a whim.
“Why?” Frank asks suspiciously.
“Calm down, I’m not gonna email him. I just want to know.”
“Coffee Addict,” Frank says in a low voice. He glances at the gigantic paper cup in Gerard’s hand and laughs. “He kind of reminds me of-”
Gerard holds his breath, chanting Finish the sentence, finish the sentence desperately in his head.
But Frank just shakes off the thought and says, “Never mind. I have to go, okay? Thanks for the tour.”
“No problem.”
Frank scratches his head, looking quite suddenly very uncomfortable. “Thanks for the story,” he says under his breath. “I… I appreciate it.”
“Thanks for listening,” Gerard tells him sincerely.
Frank nods, waving at Gerard but refusing to meet his eyes, and hurries out of the shop, leaving Gerard to finish his coffee alone.
***
I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but I really want to meet you. I know I can talk to you, and you’re such an awesome person, I just really want to see if we click as well in person as we do online. I’ve been so confused, lately, about what I feel for someone, but I know how I feel for you and I just need to know that connection is real.
Don’t freak out. I think I’m falling in love with you.
Gerard rubs his eyes tiredly. Frank is falling for him in real life, maybe has already fallen for him; he can’t keep up this charade much longer. It’s torture, lying to Frank’s face like he is, and it’s high time he ended it. He just hopes Frank will forgive him.
I’m dying to meet you, Frankenstein. I’m so sorry my schedule’s been shit. But I’m free tomorrow, and I know a place. There’s a little courtyard with a fountain, on 7th Street. Meet me there at 4:00 tomorrow? Let’s not dance around it, this time. I’ll be there, waiting for you, by the fountain. I hope you won’t be disappointed.
He pushes away from the computer and calls Frank.
***
“We can’t hang out all day,” Frank says as he locks his apartment door behind him. “I’m meeting someone later.”
“Oh really?” Gerard leers, hitting the button to call the elevator. “Don’t tell me you finally got a date with your virtual boyfriend.”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” Frank replies smugly. They go into the elevator and Frank jabs the button three times before it lights up. “And he suggested it, too.”
“Liar.”
“Hey!”
“You begged him to meet, didn’t you?” Gerard teases. Frank doesn’t want to let on how close that is to the truth, so he shoves Gerard into the elevator wall.
“Bastard.”
“Asshole.”
The doors open, letting them out into the lobby.
“So where are we going?”
“I figure we could hit that comic book shop over on Liberty, maybe swing by a Starbucks on the way back,” Gerard suggests, and Frank nods his acquiescence.
The hours pass quickly-too quickly for Frank’s liking. All too soon, it’s three in the afternoon and they’re heading back to Frank’s apartment.
Gerard is quiet as he walks. Frank stays half a step behind him, watching Gerard’s profile, the way he tucks his hair behind his ears. Every time Gerard glances back, Frank stares quickly down at his own feet.
“Lost in thought?” Gerard finally asks.
“Kind of,” Frank admits.
“Worried about meeting your guy?”
Frank shrugs. He is, a little. He’s nervous, but he figures that’s normal. He’s mostly worried about Gerard, really. He’s worried about falling in love with Gerard. He’s afraid it might be too late to worry about that.
“You’ll be fine,” Gerard says gently. “If he’s a dick, just tell him to fuck off. Or punch him in the face. I suspect you’d be good at that.”
“Yeah, I think I would.”
“You’ll be fine,” Gerard says again. They fall silent for another block and a half, then Gerard speaks again. He sounds hesitant, almost scared. “Do you think you’ll get together with him?”
“I don’t know,” Frank replies honestly. “I don’t know how he feels about me.”
“How do you feel about him?”
“I wouldn’t say no,” Frank hedges.
“You haven’t even met him, Frank,” Gerard says sadly.
“It doesn’t matter. I know him.”
“But you don’t know him, and now you’re practically in a relationship with him already.”
Frank sighs. He knows exactly where Gerard’s going with this conversation, and he can’t let it happen. “Gerard, we can’t be-”
“He’s got you convinced you won’t love anybody like you love him.”
“That’s not true,” Frank whispers.
“He’s the perfect man for you. He says exactly the right thing, every time, and now you’re in love with this person that’s completely in your head.”
“Stop.”
“Frankie, what about-”
“No. Gee, I’m going home.”
“I’m sorry,” Gerard murmurs, bowing his head. “Let me walk you back; we’re almost there.”
Frank nudges Gerard’s shoulder with his own and they start walking again. Gerard stuffs his hands into the pockets of his tight pants and Frank crosses his arms, snuggling into his hoodie. By the time they get back to Frank’s apartment, the silence isn’t quite as awkward.
“Thanks for walking me back,” Frank offers.
“Glad to,” Gerard replies.
“Okay, well. I’ll see you later, then. Let you know how it goes.”
Frank’s just about to turn around and head up the steps to his door when Gerard says, “Frank, wait,” and catches his arm. Gerard’s hand slides down from Frank’s elbow to his wrist, and then he slowly takes Frank’s hand.
“The day we met,” he says, his thumb drifting lightly over Frank’s knuckles.
Frank stares down at their joined hands. He can’t look up, hearing that pained tone in Gerard’s voice. He can’t look up and see the face that matches it. “I know,” he replies quietly.
“You didn’t know who I was.”
Gerard strokes up and down Frank’s fingers, one at a time. Frank’s breath catches in his throat. It’s unbelievably intimate, and Frank doesn’t know how to respond. Gerard just holds Frank’s hand and opens his mouth like he’s about to speak, but nothing comes out.
“Gerard…”
“If I wasn’t-”
“It doesn’t matter. You are Gerard Way.”
“It matters, Frank.”
“Gee, I can’t do this right now,” Frank says desperately. He can’t quite bring himself to pull his hand out of Gerard’s grasp. “I’m going to be late,” he tries.
Gerard lets go of his hand and Frank looks up in time to see him nod sadly. “Wear your Frankenstein shirt. It looks good on you.”
Frank gives him a weak smile. “I will. Thanks.”
“I’ll see you, Frankie.”
Frank watches him turn around and walk down the street, back the way they came. He doesn’t go into his building until he sees Gerard turn the corner and disappear.
***
[ part 4]