Night falls, and still Frank hasn’t called me from his speaker to get me to come to his service. I sigh, loudly, as I take off my tie and black trousers, leaving me in my black shirt and boxers. I decide I will sleep in this. I’m just about to get into bed, when two knocks echo throughout my room. I quickly pull on my jeans and crack open the door.

“You have to get up at 8, shower, and then get changed. Sir will expect you in his room with breakfast and coffee at 9.” It’s just Travis.

I nod, silently and Travis leaves. I watch him go, his footsteps falter. I examine the area around me, and then step outside, closing my door. I tip-toe in bare foot across the landing and I silently sneak past Frank’s bedroom. I’m hungry, and I know where the kitchen is. I press my back against the wall, witnessing Travis step into the elevator. It zooms down, silently, apart from the same ding at the end. I swallow, hard and then step into the elevator. The stairs will take too long and it passes many floors for the servants. The elevator whips down, and the bell dings. I gulp, softly, hoping no one heard it, and the doors quietly slide open. Its pitch black, apart from a few electric candles that are attached to the walls. I find my way to the kitchen, and breathe a sigh of relief. I yank open the fridge.

“Are you sure you’re meant to be here?” A soft, sweet voice asks, politely. I spin around on my heel, my heart thumping in my chest, to see a girl. Around my age. She has long, silky, shoulder-length, glossy black hair and pretty eyes. She wore a simple black waistcoat with a striped tie and a white blouse. She’s wearing a black skirt, with fishnet tights too. Frank must’ve felt like making her wear that skirt. What a pervert. It does honestly look very attractive on her, though.

“Um… I’m just hungry…” I say, scratching the back of my neck, the open fridge’s chilly temperature making me shiver.

“It’s okay. I understand. My name is Lindsey Ballato.” She introduces herself and holds out a hand.

“I’m Gerard. Gerard Way.” I shake her hand, formally and the corner of my mouth raises into a smile as we lock eyes.

“I’m the maid here. I clean at night, though, because it’s far more peaceful that way,” Lindsey explains.

“Yeah, I get you. I’m… Frank’s butler.” I say, sighing. Lindsey’s eyes widen.

“Shh! If someone hears you call Sir by his actual name you’ll be dead meat,” Lindsey exclaims. “He hates it when people call him by that. He wants to seem superior,”

“Ha. Superior? He’s an asshole,” I mutter.

“Agreed. Keep your voice down, though. The punishments can be very severe here. I haven’t had any though; I like to stick to being good.” She giggles.

“He’s hit me, and hurt me before,” I shrug, moving my face; therefore, she can see the bruises dotted across my jawline and the bright red mark that is still on my cheek.

“What an idiot,” She scowls. “Anyway, I’m cleaning the kitchen, currently.” She gets out the duster and starts to wipe the surfaces. I look through the fridge and pull out a simple sandwich. White bread and cheese. I take it out from the plastic bag and scoff it down. I place the plastic bag in the bin, and then turn to Lindsey.

“Thanks for this,” I say, honestly. “You could’ve just turned me in,”

“No, that’s just silly, why would I do that?” Lindsey grins. I grin back at her.

“So, I’ll see you around… Hopefully?” I cock an eyebrow.
“
Hopefully.” She confirms. And with that, I go back in the elevator and step out on the top floor again. As I walk past Frank’s room, the door opens.

Ah, shit.

“Gerard,” His voice is stone cold. I look right at the floor. “Get in, now.” Anger coats his tone, and I obey, straight away. He shuts the door behind me. The pile of papers has risen, and there are empty mugs scattered on his desk. “Don’t you ever think that you can get away with things.”

“I’m sorry, master,” I whisper, staring sadly at the floor.

“You’re not really, though, are you?” He hisses. “You loved going downstairs and meeting that fine lady, didn’t you? I saw the spark in your eyes when you saw her,”

“H-How-”

“I have cameras monitoring the place, Gerard. Do think I’m that thick to not have cameras? How would I know if people try to escape or not? You’re the only one who knows I have cameras, though. Everyone doesn’t know, but they should do. It’s pretty obvious, as I know what everyone is doing, when I choose to look at them, that is.” Frank explains, his piercing gaze never leaving me. “Hopefully.” He mimics Lindsey’s voice and I automatically flinch. It sounds nothing like her.

“She’s-”

“Oh, don’t you worry,” Frank interrupts. “I’m not going to punish your little friend.” He smirks and continues looking at me. “You stay away from her,”

“Why? Why can’t I at least have relationships and friendships here? Haven’t you taken away enough from me!? I hate you, Frank.” It feels satisfying, disobeying him, calling him by his first name, it feels satisfying shouting at him, hating on him, truly satisfying. But, only for a second, because, after that, I then realise what deep shit I’m in. Frank eyes flash to black, but then they’re normal again. Frank doesn’t even do anything. Imagination, that’s what it is.

I don’t even see it coming, the punch across my mouth. I stagger backwards, my back against the wall. I feel blood dripping from the corner of my mouth, and a painful sting on my bottom lip. My teeth feel as if they’re about to break. Frank’s fucking strong, alright. He could easily kill me, he just chooses not to. Frank strides over to me, and pulls me by my shirt, so I’m very close to him.

“Oh, baby, have you got a little cut on your lip?” He purrs, lifting the other hand, and running his finger along my bottom lip. I shiver at the touch, but grimace when his skin touches the cut. “I’m so sorry,” He coos, and then rushes to get some tissues. He comes back with a box full, and takes some out, pressing the tissue against my lip. His face is so close to mine.

“You’re being sarcastic, you don’t actually care if you hurt me,” I say, my voice is slightly muffled from the tissue on my lip. It hurts when I speak. Frank doesn’t reply. He takes the tissue away and peers at the cut. It’s stopped bleeding now. He chucks the used tissues in his bin.

“You’re staying in here tonight,” He murmurs. He doesn’t look at me, and his eyebrows furrow slightly, like there is something bothering him. “I don’t trust you alone, and I can’t watch the cameras all night.”

“Why did you capture me?” I whisper, softly and cautiously. “I just want to know, please! Please.”

Frank looks at me, and shakes his head, causing my heart to drop.

“Somethings… Are better left alone, alone and unrevealed.” He replies, in a gentle tone. I sigh, and nod as if I understand. Frank checks his watch. “Get changed and get in bed, I’ll be back in 10 minutes, and don’t you think of disobeying,” I nod, limply, and I walk him open his bedroom door, and then shut it. I swallow a little bit. What if he’s going to Lindsey?

“Wait…” By bed does he mean… I look at the massive bed in his room, and scratch my head. “It could’ve been worse,” I whisper. I mean, sharing a bed isn’t bad, I mean, it’s not like-… I need to just shut up. I strip off my jeans again, and fold them neatly beside the bedside cabinet on the right side of the bed. I climb in the right side, as my jeans are there, and snuggle underneath the duvet. God, it’s so comfy. Far more comfy than the bed in my room. I hear the door open and Frank is in the room again. His eyes land on me and a small smile spreads across his face.

“I see you like my bed,” He comments, sitting at his desk and scribbling down on another piece of paper.

“Well, you told me to get in it, but yes, it’s nice…” I reply. I watch him writing. I yawn, loudly.

“Sleep, Gerard.” Frank says, breaking the comfortable silence. “I’m not going to be going to bed until around midnight.”

“Oh,” I mumble, staring at the grandfather’s clock hanging from his wall. It’s only 10:30pm.

“Okay,” I answer. Frank is actually being kind of nice. I have no idea why… Maybe sometimes he feels regretful and guilty. I look at him, one last time, and focus on his face. He’s a very attractive person. There is no denying that. I close my eyes, and drift off to sleep.

---

I wake up the next morning, and rub my eyes. I sit up again, leaning my back against the headboard, and I allow my eyes time to adjust to my surroundings. I peer at the time. 6am. Well, I woke up early. I look beside me to see an empty space. What? Does he wake up at like 5am then? I glance at the desk, to see, no doubt, Frank sitting there. He’s shirtless, with just a pair of trousers on. He has tattoos on his back, and probably some on his chest too.

“Rise and shine,” Frank speaks, not even staring at me. He must’ve heard me awakening. “It’s good you got up early,”

“Do you wish for your breakfast now?” I query, sleepily, tugging on my trousers again.

“No. I do not wish for any breakfast at all.” Frank states. “Just a coffee,”

“But, breakfast is good for you, master…” I protest, but Frank holds up a hand, that has his pencil slipped between two fingers.

“I do not need breakfast, but thank you for your concern, Gerard,” Frank’s voice is like velvet, so soft and smooth. I could listen to it all day. It’s still just his back that faces me. My eyes move from the back of his head, to his shoulders and to his arms. He has toned arms, with art decorated across them both. “Is there anything delaying you or bothering you, Gerard?”

“Um,” I shake my head, trying to get out of my trance. For fucks sake, it’s just his back and his arms! It’s not even his chest… And I HATE him anyway! “No,”

“No what?”

“No, master.” I mumble.

“That’s better. Such an obedient boy,” Frank remarks. I automatically shiver at how his words are so suggestive. I tell myself that the shiver is of horror, not pleasure. Horror. Horror. Horror.

I create a coffee in his kitchen, and slowly make my way over to his desk. Frank stands up and faces me, taking the mug from my hands.

“Thank you, Gerard.” Frank smiles. My attention isn’t on his face, though, it’s on his chest. “And I’d be grateful for you to look at me in the eyes while I’m talking to you,” Frank’s voice is firmer. I tear my eyes away from his body and to his face.

“Sorry,” I apologise, a light blush dusting over my cheeks.

“I don’t need your apology,” He dismisses it with a wave of the hand. That’s kind of rude. “And you can leave now,” Frank seats himself at his desk. My eyes follow him.

“Oh- okay,” When I say that, Frank’s head snaps up and he stares at me, quirking an eyebrow.

“Why do you sound so disappointed? After all, you hate me. I’m an asshole.” He drawls, smirking at my reaction.

Shit, he heard that from the cameras.

“Too right,” I mutter. Frank’s smirk fades.

“My, oh my, you are bittersweet,” Frank says.

That’s hypocritical coming from you. I say in my mind. One minute he’s hot, the next minute he’s cold. He’s angry then nice. But, my opinion on him will never change. It still remains hateful. And it always will be like that. Until he finally lets me free.

That’s when it dawns on me.

How long am I going to be here?

---

I rush out of his bedroom, closing the door behind myself. I sprint to the elevator, press bottom floor. Once it lands, I check each room, hopeful to find Lindsey. Then, I find her. Dusting the staircase and looking around at the other people here that are running around like crazy. I witness her take a large sigh.

“Lindsey!” I say, scooting to her side.

“Gerard,” Lindsey smiles warmly at me.

“I need to ask you a question,” I begin. Something brightens in her eyes. “How long have you been here?” The brightness dies away. What? What does she expect me to ask her?

“Oh.” Lindsey just looks at the spiral staircase. “I don’t know, I’ve lost track.”

“You’ve been here for that long!?” I exclaim. “You’ve never gone home?!”

“Never. I don’t… Even remember home.” Lindsey whispers.

“You’ve got to, c’mon…!” I growl.

“Gerard! I can’t! Did you hear that, CAN’T?” Lindsey repeats. “I’m sorry.” She shortly says, obviously feeling guilty.

“It’s fine. So, I’m never getting out of here?” I question.

“I’m sorry,” She just repeats.

“Mikey… Mum… Dad… This is fucking crazy!” I shout, maybe a little too loud, because a few servants stare at me. “He can’t keep people like this!”

“Yes, I can.” Frank’s voice makes my hair stand up on the back of my neck. Lindsey looks at me, her eyes wide, apologetic. The whole floor downstairs goes silent and all the servants work twice as hard at Frank's presence, obviously scared to death. I face him, hesitantly. He leans close to my face, and his mouth is by my ear, I can almost feel the cold metal from his lip ring graze against my skin, and somehow I... Like it. “What did I tell you about disobeying me, hmm? You’re such a naughty boy,”

Fuck. My. Fucking. Dirty. Mind.

“Now, why are you down here, sweetheart?” Frank queries, although he knows the answer.

“Just… Talking…” I stutter.

“I can see that.” Frank’s voice is firm, no longer high-pitched. “Come with me,”

“Yes…Master.” I mumble.

“Master?” Servants echo.

“Master?” Lindsey repeats. Frank looks worried for a few seconds, but his face is icy cool again.

“Yes. A little change in the name won’t do any harm, will it? He is my butler. He calls me something different to all of you.” Frank says, looking at them all in the eyes. “I hope no one will complain.”

They all swallow hard, and nod. Frank grabs my wrist and pulls me along with him. I manage to keep up with his hurried strides and he pushes me lightly into the elevator, and got inside himself. He presses the number to the top level.

“Don’t,” Frank breathes, staring at me right in the eyes. “Ask me why I want you to call me master,”

“Okay. I won’t.” I say, although the curiosity just grows. I watch him as he leans against the walls of the elevator, casually. “Will I ever be free again?”

The question hangs in the air like an irritating dark, grey stratus cloud.

Frank closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his teeth. He opens his eyes again. He looks as if he’s about to say something, however, the elevator ding interrupts him. We walk in silence as we approach his room.

“Fetch me some coffee,” Frank orders. I nod.

“Um, master,” I ask. “Could I make myself some food…?”

“Yes.” Frank just replies, plonking himself on the bed.

I prepare myself some simple pasta, from the cupboard, and I put a random sauce that would go well, with it. I place the food on a plate, and balanced that on my arm, whilst I hold two mugs of coffee in my hands. When I walk into the room, Frank’s eyes are on me again.

“You look like a waiter,” Frank laughs. He has a really, really nice laugh. I don’t say anything, I just hand him a mug of coffee.

“Where should I sit?” I question.

“The desk, you can move my stuff so you can place your plate on the desk,” Frank answers. I do as he says, and then begin to eat.

“Back to topic, what I’m saying is… I told you to stay away from Lindsey,”

I continue eating, silently. The pasta is very tasty.

“But… You still ignore me. See, whenever I inflict pain on you, it’s only because you argue back. But all the while, I always make up for it afterwards. But you. You just keep screwing up. Do you really know what a butler is?” Frank sighs.

“You’re fed up of me,” I say, swallowing my mouthful of pasta.

“No.” Frank hears me swallow, loudly. “I’m not fed up of you… Just… Agitated.”

“Because I don’t listen,” I finish.

“Precisely.” Frank states. He walks over to me, and stands behind me. It’s extremely off-putting; however, I manage to finish my food. I feel Frank’s hands run along my back. He leans down; therefore, his face is level with mine. “Start listening to me or you’ll be in a lot of trouble,”

“Yes, master.”

Notes

a/n: sorry i havent updated in a while but please /rate the story 10 stars/ because that counts as votes !! thank u !!