Words Mean Nothing.

Frank stared at Gerard who looked like he was having a staring contest with the wall from the corner of the room. He refused to move anywhere near Gerard while he was intoxicated and in this mood. Frank was honestly scared. He'd never seen Gerard in such a hateful mood towards himself. Whenever Frank had talked to him he'd always been so confident so cocky. This was a side of Gerard Frank had wished he'd never seen.

"Fucker." Gerard broke the silence, Frank's eyes darted over at him. He was trying to stand up, but kept falling every time he did. Frank rushed over to his side.

"Here…let me help you." Frank reached down to grab Gerard's arm to balance him. Gerard flinched and slapped his hand away.

"I can dooit..." he slurred, "you don' need to help me. I nevah he-he-elped you."

"Alright…" Frank said throwing his arms up defeat. With an exasperated sigh he plopped himself down on the bottom of Gerard's bed. He wasn't about to waste his time arguing with a drunk, he'd done that enough with his father when he was alive. Frank's heart dropped.

Gerard was just like his Father. Escaping reality because it was too hard to bare with the bottle. Unable to think about Gerard any longer frank rushed over to his duffle bag on the floor by the basement and pulled out a bottle of black nail polish. He made his way back over to the bed and began to paint his thumb nail black as a raven.

Not that he knew why, but, Frank always loved the smell of nail polish. It calmed him and being a punk he had the ability to paint his nails. Hell. He was already called a fag, what's a little nail polish? He had finished his left hand when Gerard came over and plopped onto the bed making him paint his knuckle black.

"Fucker." Frank muttered, trying his best to rub the nail polish off on his jeans.

“What are youu doing?” Gerard asked studying the nail polish brush in Frank’s hand.

“Painting my nails, what does it look like?” Frank asked working on scratching the nail polish on his knuckle off.

“Why? I thought g-girls did that.” Gerard muttered, then giggled. “Fwankie baby, are you a girl?”

Frank froze staring up at Gerard. Being called baby when Gerard was drunk frightened him.

“I suppose it could be, but, it’s not like I’m painting them bright pink. Just black. It adds...um..character.” Frank muttered trying to save his little dignity he had left.

“Character? Like Ren & Stimpy?” Gerard asked curious.

“What?....No! No!”

“I want to be a c-character? Gimmie!” Gerard reached his hands out towards the bottle. Frank snapped it away.

“No, no no. If you want nail polish, I will paint your nails. Heaven knows what you’d do with it, drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” Gerard slurred.

“And I’m a Fairy.” Frank muttered, grabbing Gerard’s hand and turning it over.

“Fwankiee the fairy.” Gerard slurred watching intently as Frank moved the bristles of the brush across his finger. “Where are you wings?”

“Revoked.”

“WHY?!” Gerard exclaimed pulling a face directly out of an emoticon.

“Because I’m a horrible person.” Frank sighed finishing Gerard’s middle finger.

“No you’re not. You’re one of the n-nicest people I know. I fuck you up everyday and you’re here, helping me pain my nails. You’re helping me, and I treat you like fucking dirt under my feet. I’m the horrible person. I deserve to go to hell. You probably hate me.” Gerard’s odd moment of lucidity in his drunken stupor through Frank off guard.

“I don’t hate you.” Frank muttered, switching hands. He stared down at the bottle in his hands, he wasn’t sure what his feelings were towards Gerard right now. Before the last few hours he hated the boys guts, and wanted nothing to do with him. But, now....he was sharing a room with him. He was painting his nails. He was having heartfelt conversations with him. They were saving one another’s lives. Did that make them friends?