Wanna Be Somebodies

FRANK’S P.O.V.
I hardly sleep that night; I’m so pissed off. I lie there in bed, so utterly livid with the entire situation, yet completely helpless. I can’t take it back; I can’t change anything. There’s nothing to be done except suck it up and everything is awful.
Shit, if I can’t sleep, I can only imagine how Gerard is feeling. I wonder how he’s doing right now, although a big part of me knows it can’t be all that swell.
My attention drifts briefly to my sleeping roommate, Coulter. The bastard is out like a light, snoring and practically drooling on his pillow. Babies envy that level of slumber.
I slowly shift my weight so as not to wake him. My bed creaks loudly in protest as I sit up, planting my feet softly on the floor. I reach across to the nightstand for my phone, it’s glaring light telling me that it’s nearly three in the morning.
Man, alive. I roll my shoulders back, cracking my neck on either side before standing. Gradually, I creep across the wooden floor to the door, stepping outside into the hall.
Damn, the school corridors look strange after dark. It feels almost like a campus reboot of 28 Days Later as I roam the empty halls to Gerard’s dorm.
Almost knocking out of instinct, I stop myself, not wanting to wake his roommate. August hardly gets sleep as it is; I’d hate to see how he’d function without a proper four hours.
I try the doorknob to see that it’s locked. Originally writing it off as Gerard’s general paranoia, I feel like the biggest asshole when I realize that he’s probably more scared than ever after being raped, for good reason, too.
An air conditioner kicks on particularly aggressively, sending chills up and down my body. After all, I’m just dressed in a freaking tank top and boxers, of course I’m freezing. I don’t think these things through.
I could text Gerard, I realize. He’s bound to be awake; I’ll shoot him a quick text to let me inside. Realizing that my phone’s not on my person, I head back to my own room, terrified when I try the knob to realize it’s locked. Shit, it must have locked behind me; my stupid ass didn’t bother to double check.
Caught between a rock and a hard place, I ask myself a troubling question: Who am I more afraid of, a sleep deprived August, or a half-awake Coulter? Figuring Coulter sleeps like a rock and I wouldn’t be able to wake him anyway, I put my money on August, which I’m still not thrilled about.
Tail tucked between my legs, I march myself to Gerard’s door and give a timid knock. Knocking a little more abrasively, I wait for someone to answer.
It’s August, much to my displeasure. His hair is ruffled to the extent of an umbrella bird and his eyes are narrow and glazed with sleep. He growls lowly, “What?”
Grinning sheepishly, I scratch behind my head. “Is Gerard awake?”
August shakes his head, telling coldly, “No.”
Well, shit, there goes my entire game plan. Quick, think of an excuse. “I got locked out of my dorm trying to go to the bathroom.” Nice Frank, nice! “Can I crash here till morning?”
“You’d rather wake up me than your roommate?”
Rats, he’s onto me. “Coulter is a heavy sleeper.”
August nods, considering this to be a fair answer. His eyes flicker downward and he smirks, scoffing, “Nice duds, Iero.”
Glancing down at my black tank top and too-small Avengers boxers, I blush a little. I had not taken the possibility of who would mock me more into account.
He lets me in nonetheless, ordering, “Wake me up again and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Love you too,” I respond jokingly. I crawl into bed with Gerard, who is sleeping soundly. My poor boy; he looks like he fell asleep crying. I cuddle up next to him, getting under the covers and leeching off his body heat. Hopefully, he’s not feeling so damn used in his dreams. There must be some sort of escape.
Waking up to the sound of his alarm, I open one eye, then the other, seeing Gerard already stumbling across the room to silence the damned thing. He looks like shit; he isn’t even walking right. I am going to find Matt Ellis and I am going to wring the rat’s throat.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
Gerard jumps a little at my voice, his eyes darting from me, to August (who is zoning in and out of sleep as he tries to wake up), back to me. “Fine.”
“No like,” I sigh, pressing, “Any… pain, or anything?”
Gerard furrows his brows. “Shut up.”
“What?”
“Shut your trap,” Gerard scowls. “I don’t want to talk about it, alright?”
I pout, pleading, “Gerard, I need to know. I want to talk about it.”
Gerard strips off his shirt, declaring, “I don’t.”
I swing my legs over the bed, striding towards Gerard, “You can’t bottle this stuff up, Gerard.”
He slams his shirt down, snapping, “Fine, alright! I am sore as shit and I have an awful headache. I have to take a shower but I’m too scared to and so I might just settle for the sink!” Seeing my crestfallen expression, his voice wavers as he retorts, “There, are you happy now?”
I take his hand, comforting, “I can go with you. To shower, I mean. With all the rules here, we can’t share a stall but… I can take one next to you, keep an eye on you a bit.” I pick up his drooping chin, asking, “Would you like that?”
“Why are you afraid to shower?” August asks sleepily.
Gerard’s eyes widen in panic. He looks as me desperately.
“There’s uh… bugs. Bugs in the shower, big spiders. Gerard’s afraid of spiders,” I lie. There was some truth to that.
August, still half asleep, agrees, “Ah.”
Gerard grabs me, whispering, “He’s going to find out!”
“Calm down; he won’t remember this,” I assure. “Look at him, he’s barely awake. Give it five minutes, he’ll forget this ever happened.”
That seems to calm Gerard down some, for he takes my hand and pushes me towards the door.
I put my brakes on, reasoning, “Look at me; I can’t go out like this.”
Gerard, looking me up and down, nods, offering, “Want something to wear?”
Dressed in a baggy pair of pajama pants and one of Gerard’s old t shirts, I head down the hallway to the joint bathroom of the floor, my boyfriend in tow. I enter slowly, of course doing an initial scan for any associates of Matt Ellis or the demon himself before entering.
Grateful that the room is mostly empty, I strip down next to a shower stall, hanging my clothes over a nearby bench along with a towel. Gerard does the same, only much more tentatively so. Everything he does seems to be in slow motion as he slumps towards the shower.
He always used to hum, even sing in the shower. But now he’s not, and it’s driving me mad hearing nothing but the sound of sprayed water slapping tile. Something’s not right with him, and I’m positive that the other day has everything to do with it.
We both get out and get dressed, Gerard more conservatively than ever. I head out alongside him, lacing my fingers with his as we reach my dorm. I can’t imagine what he’s going through; only try to make it easier.

Notes

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