Just Like Spiderman, Only A Bit Creepier

Frank walked into the coffee shop, finding it emptier than he would have expected. For a winter night it was suprisingly warm, so Frank was wearing black skinny jeans and a Smashing Pumpkins hoodie with nothing underneath.
"Hello, welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you?" A boy looked up from his phone, sounding bored and the smile on his face looked forced. Frank almost took offence to that, but then he realised this guy was probably doing a shift after school; he himself is exhausted, and he didn't even show up to half of his classes.
When he looked Frank in the eye, he had only a second to realise it was that Gerard kid, before his smile got shy and he hid behind his black hair, pulling his sleeves over his hands.
"Uh, a Vanilla Bean Frappuccino, with 3 pumps of Caramel Brulée sauce, and 1 scoop of java chips, please?" Gerard almost made a face at Frank's order; he had tried the vanilla bean frappuccino before with different things, it was so sweet and for a week after that he was convinced he got diabetes. He just nodded, mummbling a 'coming right up', and turned around, leaving Frank to take in the half empty Starbucks.
Only about three booths were taken; in the far right corner, an old married couple was arguing about something, the wife rolling her eyes constantly and the husband raising his voice here and then and flailing his arms dramaticaly. A couple of booths away from them was a group of teenagers; Frank ercognized them from school, that was 'the popular crew' and he was often rumoured to be seen hanging out with them, and even though nor Frank nor the boys denied it, they barely knew eachother.
There was the guy with the crazy afro, Ray Toro, then there was Ryan Ross, that shy kid who was one of the rare people who talked to Gerard (no one knew how the fuck Ryan became one of the popular kids, but Frank suspected it was all Brendon's fault), which brings him to looking around and yes, Brendon Urie is right next to Ryan, laughing about something and slapping Ryan's arm. Brendon Urie was.. a literal ball of excitment, basically, and he mostly hung out with Ryan. Pretty much everyone knew both of them were crushing on each other, except for the two of them. Theer was a guy on his phone, and Frank didn't recognize him at first but as soon as he looked up to crack a smile at Frank: it was Pete Wentz, who was a pretty nice guy, despite the rumours that he is the biggest asshole ever. Also, he was the one who made guyliner a thing in their school, and Frank was thankful for that; a trend isn't a simple thing to start in their school, and at least now he isn't the only one with thick black lines around his eyes.
In the other corner, a girl was deep in thought, writing into a brown notebook furiously and crossing out most of it even more furiously.
Frank knew that she was writing a song; he was exactly like that when he tried to get his words to make sense. She looked really young, younger than Frank at least about three to four years, but he recognized her from some of her classes; she had short brown hair and purple glasses, she always had earphones in her ears and band shirts and hoodies, but still somehow managed to get good grades. She was some sort of a genious, Frank guessed, and he kind of liked her; in the most non-pedophilic way possible, you know.
He wanted to compliment her Iron Maiden hoodie but decided against it when he realised he'd been standing in the middle of the coffe shop, and sat down.
He started tapping his fingers against the surface of the table, then a warm hand stopped his fingers mid-air.
"Don't do that." he looked up to see Gerard's eyes have gone darker - wow Frank that's creepy, you memorized his eye colour?-and he had Frank's frappucino in his hand, the sleeve still pulled over it. "It makes them- uh, me, it makes me nervous."
Frank just nodded and ignored the cold air that hit his hand when Gerard put his Frappucino on the table and took his hand away from Frank's, turning away and walking up behind the counter.
And if Frank had noticed his pronoun slip-up, he didn't say anything.

Notes

Really short, but oh well.