Keep Your Distance.

The lack of excitement was overwhelming. I should be home, crying over my father--instead, I'm holding onto a suitcase, going up quantities of stairs of Gerard Way's mansion. My hand gripped onto the suitcase, dragging it into my room. I tossed it onto the bed and sighed in disbelief. Today, I moved in. I had to take all my clothing, personal belongings, and move into one of Gerard's-no, Master's available rooms.

I don't know him very well. I met him once or twice, but I never actually go to know him. He had barely talked to me, but his eyes always seemed to looking at me.

I straightened out my tie before heading out the room, making my way through the long hallway. The white walls framed the portraits of art by the Master. He was well known by speaking through his paintings. I stopped when I came across a woman wearing a black hoodie. She wiped a piece of cloth against the frame of one of the pictures.

I sighed, "Dee-"

She squealed in shock, dropping the cloth. She looked at me, "Frank! Uh--" She quickly yanked off her hoodie, "I wasn't--"

"You know the Master doesn't like it when you wear that faded black attire."

Dee sighed, "I know...but I've had it for so long." She looked at me again before asking, "You moved in?"

I nodded, "Yeah."

Dee smiled, a small giggle mixed with her joke, "You're in charge now, kid."

I smiled softly, not really entertained, "Keep that hoodie off." I walked past her, continuing my walk to the Master's office. I heard Dee call out, "Kay!"

It was a longer walk then I had remembered--the last time I was here was last year and I remembered I would hope I would never have to come here soon again. It was nice getting to know Gerard's servants--I mean, Master's servants. Though, I wasn't ready to be in charge of all of them.

I stopped by the Master's door and knocked softly. A voice called from the other side, "Come in."

I hesitated, but walked in. The office was larger than expected. I walked a great deal before asking, "I was thinking of telling the cook to make--"

"Whatever." He said, not looking away from piles of paper, "Whatever it is, I'm up for it. Don't overdue the spices." The Master kept writing on a piece of paper, "Make sure there's salad to whatever you're making, you understand?"

His voice was soft, but something about it seemed very strong.

I nodded, "Y--yes, Gerard--"

"What did you call me?"

"Master--I mean, Master."

Gerard didn't flinch, "Are we done here?"

I nodded very heavily, "Yes...we're done." I took a small bow before sadly, making my way out of the office. I didn't know why I was upset. I figured it was because this was going to be my life from now on. I was a 34 year old, taking orders from a man who was the same age as me--a man who doesn't even care about me or that my father, his previous butler passed away--

"And Frank,"

I stopped in my place when Gerard called. I faced him, "Yes?"

He glanced up at me quickly from his paperwork, "I'm sorry for our loss." He gestured me with his hand to 'go away now' and I did. And for some odd reason, I smiled. Because it wasn't just my loss. My father just didn't mean a lot to me--he meant a lot to Gerard as well...he was our loss.

I mean, Master as well.

Notes