It's Not a Fashion Statement

gerards pov
Frankie’s clothes were dirty and worn out. They look like they've not been washed in a few weeks. In fact, they probably haven’t. I can't help but feel so bad for him.

I don’t even realise what I’m doing. When I said he could stay at mine, I never actually considered it, It just fell out of my mouth. Now I’m washing his clothes and making him dinner. It’s not a problem though.

After he’s washed, I’m going to let him watch TV and chill out, bring him some soup and blankets and I might even join him on the sofa. That's only if I’m not annoying him, he might feel a bit uncomfortable with his boss about all the time. Although, I don’t really think him as someone who works for me, I don’t feel like his boss. Maybe that’s just because we haven’t actually started work yet, but even when we do, I don’t think I can ever put on my professional face around him and treat him like the rest of my workers. There's something about him that's so distracting, and make me so weak.

I don’t even know the darn kid and I feel so attached to him already. I know his name and that’s about it.

That reminds me, I finally have the model for my new line. I don’t know when i'll actually get to work with Frankie, I really don’t want to push him too quickly or anything, but at the same time I really need to get at least 5 outfits on the line photographed by Sunday. I’ll ask him how he feels tomorrow, and hopefully he'll be good enough to come in with me and get a few shoots.

I shove the worn out items of clothing into the washing machine, when a few dollars and a pill falls out of the pocket. I pick it up and examine it. I check the rest of the pockets, to find about 20 more of the huge pills. What the fuck were these for? If he has any medical condition I really need to know about it, that way I can buy him more tablets and make sure he's okay. I really don’t want him getting ill.

I’ll ask him later. I can’t help but feel a bit uneasy.

I put the pills in a small container and bring them into the kitchen, after switching the washing machine on. I place the container on the counter and scan over the contents of my fridge. What would frank want for tea? I don’t know what he likes. Thinking about it, I don’t know anything about Frankie.

I pick out a pack of long pasta strands, an onion, several tomatoes, and various herbs. Everyone likes tomato pasta.

I fill the kettle, flick the switch, and wait for the water to boil. Meanwhile, I use a large knife to slice the onions and tomatoes on a chopping board. When the water is done, I fill the pan of pasta with it, and bring it to the heat. I turn around to find Frankie awkwardly standing in the doorway.

“Erm… Mr way? I really don’t want to disturb you but…where do you want me to go now?” he kept his voice low and quiet.

I can tell he is nervous. His body is tense and he looks really uncomfortable.

“Do what you like, I’m cool with whatever. Go sit on the sofa and watch some TV or something, or you can put on a movie-hey, actually I bought a new game the other day. I’ll bring you a hot chocolate and some pasta in a bit-“

“You’re feeding me?” his eyes lit up, his face portraying a mixture of shock and happiness. Of course I’m going to fucking feed him, oh my god.

“Of course I’m going to feed you, silly. Just make yourself at home Hun.” He looked around, hesitating for a minute. I told him the lounge was next door with the TV and Xbox. He thanked me and turned on his heels, making his way next door.

About five minutes later the pasta was done and I brought it into the lounge. He was curled up on the sofa, comfortable, until he noticed me and tensed up all of a sudden. I passed him the plate and a glass of orange juice. He looked up through his long eyelashes.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked him.

“Mr. Way… this is your house,”

“I know, but, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I honestly can’t thank you enough. Everything you’ve done, don’t worry about me being uncomfortable. I could be dead by now if you hadn’t invited me back here, this is the most comfort I’ve ever felt in years,”
I smile at him and sit myself down on the other end of the sofa. I grab the television remote and flick over a few channels until I decide I can't be bothered and leave it on some movie. I watch Frankie take a bite of pasta, and swallow it down.

“Oh my god this is so good Mr way,”

“It's just tomato pasta sweetie,” I chuckle under my breath and eat my own.

I take Frankie’s plate and glass back to the kitchen, along with my own. That reminds me, I need to ask him if he needs any more pills.

I walk back into the lounge and sit on the sofa, this time closer to Frankie.

“Frankie, I wanted to ask you something,” he shifts his gaze to the floor, and nods his head. I get the feeling he's expecting what I'm about to ask.

“When I was washing your clothes I found some pills in your pocket… what were they for? I can go out and get you some more if you need them, I don’t want you ill-“

I trail off my sentence when I notice a tear slip down his face. Sudden realisation hit me. What he said earlier… I hope it’s not because of what I think it is-

“Frankie?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you have so many pills in your pocket?...”

There was a minute of silence

“…I was…going to kill myself-“


I swear my heart just ripped in two. If he weren’t found by Andy, if I didn’t offer him a job, If I hadn’t let him stay here… he would have… he’d be dead by now? I look down at the small boy, curled up crying in the corner of the sofa. Things got so hard for him, he wanted to end his own life?

I reached over and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, letting him silently sob.
“Hey, it's okay, I’m here for you honey,“
I rubbed my hand up and down his back a few times, until his sobs had turned into soft sniffles.

“Mr way… you don’t have to-“ I held on tighter to his small figure and hushed him.

“You can just call me Gerard if you like. Frankie, you can talk to me. I know I haven’t exactly known you for long, but… I promise I’ll take care of you. What was so bad you wanted to… end your whole life?”

I took my sleeve and wiped under his eyes, passing him a blanket from across the sofa and letting him curl up. I sat crossed legged, ready to listen.

“My mum has never really… taken any interest or bothered about me. Neither has my dad. They’re both working, well paid citizens, expecting a lot from their kids. My siblings have always been smart and academic, whereas I, I’ve always been into art and music. A few months ago, my mum found out I was kicked out of college straight away, in the first week there. I wasn’t bothered, in fact, I was glad, and started to street busk in my spare time. She got pretty mad, and told me if I wanted a life, making no money on the streets, then that’s what I can do. So she kicked me out. I lived on a street for about a week, until I went back home, expecting my parents to have forgiven me. But no, instead they took all my bags and clothes, and told me to get out of their sight forever, and that I wasn’t welcome. So that’s what I did. I had no idea where to go, so I started walking. After about a month, I found myself in New York. I was too tired and exhausted to move. So I’d just sit on the curb or against a building, hungry and tired, often getting kicked around, ending in the middle of fights, getting constant dirty looks. It was awful Gerard, so awful-I ran out of money and I had absolutely nothing. So I wanted to put an end to my pain.”

By the end, he was in tears again. God, it hurt so much to see this poor innocent boy in so much pain. He didn’t deserve any of this. I wrap my arms around him again, holding on tight. I don’t want to ever let go.

Notes

hey guys, I'm here ^_^

I'm sorry if this sounds rushed, I'm on holiday and i don't have long. i really wanna update my other fics too, but I've only wrote this one and yea, i don't have time rn.

i will get back to them all tomorrow, i have a free day.

pls check my other fics out, it means a lot.
ily, comment/rate/subscribe :)