Words Mean Nothing.

Gerard woke up dis-oriented from the pounding in his head. The sunlight from the tiny window near the celling was like a bullet to the skull from a revolver. He stumbled out of bed and tripped over something falling flat on his face.

“Fuck!” he yipped rolling over to see that he’d tripped over. A small boy curled up in a blanket on the floor. Frank. “Ugh...Why is Princess on the floor?”

Frank appeared to be unawakened by the occurrence, so Gerard headed back to his original mission to find an Advil.

What had happened last night was a lost to Gerard. He prodded at his brain for information. He remembered drinking himself into oblivion, the sexual tension and of course trying to get Frank to join him in oblivion.

Did Frank join him? Gerard couldn’t remember. He didn’t think he did, but, he couldn’t be sure. Even the time was a mystery to Gerard as he swallowed down three Advil’s in attempt to kill his headache, wandering over to the clock he almost jumped out of his skin. It was eight-thirty in the morning, school started at nine and he needed at least an hour to look presentable. He dashed up the stairs and hopped into the shower.

The warm water cascaded onto Gerard’s naked body, embracing it in it’s warm hug. He lathered soap onto his body lost in thought about the night. Frank was the friend Gerard had alway’s hoped for. Not like Jonathan, or even Mikey. Frank made Gerard feel like he really belonged, when he wasn’t trying to show off by being a total asshole to him. Being an asshole came naturally to Gerard. He had always been brutally honest, and sassy. It was just...him.

Gerard stumbled out of the shower, and dried his hair into the white towel on the counter he’d left there. The towel was tainted red by Gerard’s fading hair dye, but he knew from experience it’d wash out in the washer since it had been in his hair for at least two weeks already. Wiping the condensation and fog off the mirror he stared at his hair, his brown-black roots coming in already almost a half an inch. He really needed to get on top of re-dying his hair, before he became a ginger. He was about to turn away when he noticed the gash right next to his eye.

“What the hell?” he moved closer to the mirror to examine the gash in his head. Where the hell had he gotten that? Where the fuck had it come from. So many things from the night before weren’t making sense to him. Why was Frank on the floor? Why did he have a scratch on his eye and did Frank decided to try the pills and booze?

Gerard wished his hangover wasn’t so bad or he’d have been able to think a little more clearly about everything going on in the real world. As he headed out the bathroom it was all he could do to remember to cover up as he made his way back to the basement. Almost falling down the basement stairs.

He glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand and had a mini-heart attack. He had 15 minutes to get to school or he was late. In full panic mode, he rushed over to his closet. Pulling on a pair of boxers he hurried over to Frank.

“Frankie...baby..” Gerard muttered shaking the small frail boy a bit. Gerard bit his lip. Why did he like the way those words sounded so much? Sighing, he tried it again;

“Frankie baby.” a tingling sensation engulfed Gerard’s body. It was the first time he’d ever said that phrase and actually meant anything of it. Sure, he’d been a tremendous flirt but, none of the meant anything. He shook Frankie a little more trying to get him to wake. The boy was barely moving.

Something was wrong. Gerard could feel it in his bones and as he rolled Frank over he realized that his breath was really shallow, beneath his body lay a small pool of blood, coming out of his arm.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.