I woke up earlier the next morning than I had the previous day and so Gerard wasn’t awake yet. I grabbed some clothes and made my way into the bathroom to have a shower. This time I checked that my towel was there before I quickly showered, using Gerard’s coconut shampoo again, loving the way the amazing smell soothed my senses.

I climbed out of the shower and pulled my clothes on. I was wearing the same skinny jeans as the previous night, but this time I had gone for a baggier white t-shirt. I inspected myself in the mirror briefly. My bruises were already fading incredibly quickly and I figured that they could even be completely gone by the end of the week. Now my cut lip wasn’t so swollen, my lip ring was starting to look better as it was no longer stretching uncomfortably over raw skin. It was also no longer painful to nibble at, which was good because that was often a habit of mine.

I thought I heard sounds coming from the other side of the bathroom door, so it seemed it was time for breakfast. I exited the bathroom and walked into the kitchen to find an already flawless looking Gerard gliding from side to side as he collected various pots, pans and ingredients. Even when he noticed I was there he continued to whirl around the room before dropping all the things he was holding carelessly onto the counter, surprising me when nothing fell off the counter or broke. He spun around to face me, his shaggy hair whirling around like a skirt as he did so and looked at me completely seriously. “Please, for the love of everything that is good in this world, tell me you like pancakes.” I laughed at his tone before stopping short when I realised he was being completely serious. “Of course I like pancakes!” He sighed loudly in relief and turned back to the counter, already beginning to rip open bags of ingredients and throw them into a plastic bowl.

I would’ve offered to help him, but I was hopeless when it came to cooking so instead I settled for making us both a fresh cup of coffee each. Sooner than I would have expected Gerard had laid out various toppings onto the breakfast bar and was dishing up a large stack of pancakes onto a single plate and dumping it in the middle of the table.

I kept eating until the plate was clear, not really keeping track of how many I ate. I just knew it was a lot. Whilst eating we continued some of the conversations about movies we had had last night. We managed to recite an entire ten minute scene from die hard together without a single fault and, although to the outside world it was probably way too weird, dorky and obsessive, to us it was the most awesome thing in the world.

I did all the washing up this time, not letting Gerard do any of the things he offered to do. I could tell he felt guilty about letting me do the chores, but I could also sense that he actually quite enjoyed someone doing things for him for once.

Before I knew it we were already in the car on our way to the store with The Misfits blaring loudly out of the car speakers. I saw some of the people walking the streets shoot us dirty looks as we went past, obviously able to hear the music but I couldn’t have cared less because Gerard was singing again, and this time I joined in.

We pulled up outside the store and Gerard shut the car off, silencing the music as he did so. I was just about to get out of the car when Gerard put his hand on my arm to stop me, sending shivers right through my body as he did so. I had a desperate craving to have those hands touch me all over, but I couldn’t focus on them right now because Gerard was giving me a very serious look.

“Listen, Frank, if today Matt leaves you working alone out in the front room at all and someone comes in who looks a little… shady… just go and get Matt, okay? Let him deal with whoever it is.”

“Gerard, I’ll be fi–” I started to say before Gerard interrupted me, sternly saying, “Just promise me, okay?”

“Fine.” I grumbled.

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.” I said, trying to match Gerard’s serious mood, but unable to with how absolutely irrational he was being.

“Good,” Gerard said, satisfied with my promise even if I wasn’t taking it seriously, “I’ll come bring you lunch again later.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to seem happier as I finally climbed out of the car, “See ya later, Gerard!”

“Later Frank!” I heard him call back as I threw the door shut and bounded over to the front of the store. I waited for Gerard’s car to pull out before I turned and walked into the store.

Matt was sitting on a stool strumming away at a beautiful fire burst coloured guitar that I couldn’t help but salivate at. He was lost in the world of music so he continued to play for a while before he noticed that I was there. When he did he quickly ended the song with an impressive riff that I couldn’t help but grin at when he scrunched up his face like he was on stage and posing for the cameras.

“Heya, Frank!” he bellowed in his loud voice as he put his guitar down and came over to envelope me in one of his big hugs. “So, y’know I said yesterday about puttin’ you on the till?” I nodded enthusiastically, “Well, if you’re still up for that I’m cool with it?”

“Yeah! I would love to!” I answered enthusiastically. It would mean I could just spend the day reading through his music magazines and getting up for a wonder round every so often all day like he had done yesterday. It involved a lot less actual hard work like I had done yesterday too, but it felt cooler because it felt like actual responsibility.

“Awesome!” He nodded, bobbing his head to a beat he obviously had in his head, “I’m gonna head on down to the recording studio. If you need anything, I’ll be down there.” With that Matt leant over and turned the ‘closed’ sign round to ‘open’ and disappeared quickly through the door in the corner of the shop.

I positioned myself behind the counter, resting on the edge of the wooden stool that sat behind it and waited.

I didn’t know what I was waiting for exactly. We hadn’t had any customers yesterday, but for some reason I had been expecting crowds of them to come through the door as soon as I took place behind the counter. I had only been sitting there for about ten minutes when I got up and picked up a few magazines off the rack in order to save myself from boredom.

Within about an hour and a half I had gone through all the magazines that had vaguely interested me and I had nothing else to do. I decided to take a wonder around the small shop, satisfied that browsing through everything should occupy at least some of my time here. I was already regretting agreeing to work the counter. It was boring as fuck and I had no idea how Matt could just stand around all day doing nothing like he had yesterday.

I was flicking through a ‘cold play X&Y’ guitar tab book, trying to memorise the pages to ‘fix you’ when I heard the front door of the shop open and tap shut again. I waited a few seconds as I heard a pair of heavy footsteps and a small quick pair of feet following after, before I heard them press the bell that signalled for assistance.

Unable to stop the excited grin spread across my face I bounded behind the counter so that I was facing the man and his daughter. He looked like he was roughly in his early 40’s, with a balding head but with kind eyes, whilst the little girl looked about 9 or 10. She hid behind the man slightly when she saw me, gripping onto his hand tightly. He chuckled down at her before looking back up at me and saying, “Don’t mind her, she’s just shy,” he stretched out his hand for me to shake as he said, “I’m Paul.”

I took his hand as I said, “I’m Frank. How can I help you today?” I was quite proud when my voice came out friendly and helpful, and I noticed the girl come out from behind her father (at least I guessed he was her father) slightly, obviously deciding that I wasn’t quite as unfriendly and scary as she had first thought.

“This here is my little girl Francesca,” He said proudly whilst pattering her head, “It’s her birthday today and we’re here to buy her her first guitar!” I grinned at his words. He was encouraging his daughter to take up the one thing I loved most in this world, so he was an okay guy in my book.

“Well, I can certainly help you with that! Would you like to follow me, you two, I’ll show you everything we’ve got. I can guarantee that we have the perfect thing for her somewhere under this roof.” I wasn’t making it up either. When taking inventory yesterday I found that we stocked basically every guitar in existence, both full size and child’s size, so we were definitely going to find Francesca something she loved. I walked out from behind the counter and lead them both over to the wall that displayed some of our wide range of guitars. “So, where would you like to start?” I asked, grinning at the man and his little girl excitedly, as they both looked back at me with the same look of anticipation.

I lost track of how long I was helping them. I couldn’t deny the fact that I was probably enjoying it more than them. The first guitar I had showed her had been a pink acoustic one but before she had even tried to use it her first remark was, “Ugh, pink!” Both myself and her father had laughed at how she literally shied away from the brightly coloured object as I placed it back on the rack and picked up a shiny black mahogany one. From the moment she saw it her eyes lit up and she started grabbing for it as she shouted, “Please, oh pretty please, can I try that one?!” From that moment onwards I showed her every guitar I thought she’d like, and every time she would fall in love with a new one until I showed her the next. At some point her father had suggested we tried some of the electric guitars, and that just set me off again.

Francesca instantaneously fell in love with a red fender that I gave her after a few tries of other guitars, but this time it was different to all the other guitars she had said she loved. Before, I had been able to tell that it had just been the excitement, but this time there was that certain glint in her eyes that showed she genuinely adored the precious object she held in her hands. “I think we’ve found it,” I murmured as she strummed randomly at the strings joyfully, playing along to a tune in her head. Her father nodded in agreement, grinning at the look of pure happiness spread across his daughters face.

“Can you teach me how to play something?” Francesca asked suddenly as she looked up at me hopefully with her big, innocent blue eyes.

“Fran, I’m sure he’s very busy,” Paul said softly.

“But the shop’s empty?” Francesca pointed out innocently.

Paul was about to say something else but before he could I quickly said, “I don’t mind, if you don’t. We rarely get customers anyway, and I would be honoured to teach your daughter her first song.”

“You would do that!?” Paul said, surprised.

“Of course!”

“Wow, this is the best service we have ever had! I’ll be honest, I was a bit unsure about coming to this place at first. It always kind of used to give me the creeps a bit, but now I see there really was no need to avoid it!”

“It kinda gives me the creeps a bit too sometimes. I don’t know why! We’re just an awesome music store, and nothing more!”

“Yes, you certainly are!”

“What would you like to learn?” I asked, turning back towards Francesca who was sat trying to figure out what the two of us were talking about. It took her a moment to process what I had said but once she had she grinned up at me and said, “I don’t mind! What do you know?”

“How about…” I paused, thinking for a bit before getting the perfect idea, “Wake Me Up When September Ends?”

“Oh my god! Yes!” She exclaimed, jumping up from the stool and almost dropping the guitar before Paul stealthy managed to catch it. Francesca didn’t seem to notice though as she continued to gush, “I love Green Day! They’re like, the best!”

“Well, take a seat again then and I’ll start to teach you!” I grabbed a piece of tab paper and a pen as she positioned herself ready with the guitar and her father pulled up a stool beside her. I quickly jotted the tab down from memory and placed it on a music stand so that she could see it. Finally I just needed my own guitar. I considered using the white Les Paul I had been swooning over for the last two days, but decided I would save that luxury for when it was actually mine. Instead I grabbed a Fender similar to Francesca’s and sat down to teach her.

The three of us lost ourselves in our own little bubble of music then. Somewhere throughout the endless lesson Paul grabbed one of the guitars and we started our own little jam session. It was clear that Francesca was a natural and was going to be very talented. Her dad was also very talented and knew a lot.

I vaguely noticed Gerard walk in the door holding a coffee and a sandwich bag, but when I was going to acknowledge he was there he just put my coffee down next to me and signalled that he would wait for me behind the counter. I nodded thankfully, not wanting this awesome jam session to end. I waved Paul off when he said something about leaving if I needed to talk to Gerard, and he complied happily, clearly enjoying this session just as much as I was.

Although, I did stop playing completely as Paul and Francesca continued when I noticed someone I didn’t recognise walk in. I just watched him walk in and check out his surroundings. He wore a black turtle neck jumper and a black open rain mac over the top of that. He wore loose fitting black jeans and clunky builders’ boots that crashed on the floor as he walked further into the store. I wasn’t getting good vibes off of this guy and I was just about to say something when Gerard leapt out of his seat and bounded up to the guy so that he was merely inches away from his face. I watched silently as Gerard and the mystery guy had a very heated discussion in whispers that I couldn’t hear, before Gerard shoved him just as quietly back out of the door. The crashing of the door shutting seemed to pull Paul and Francesca out of their trance as the both of them first looked towards the door, then to wear Gerard had been sitting and then back to me.

“Where did he go?” Francesca asked innocently.

“I – I don’t know,” I answered, just as confused at what had happened as her.

“Oh well. I didn’t like him much anyways. He was scary…”

“Scary? What made you think he was scary?”

She shrugged, not looking at me but instead fiddling with the volume knob on her guitar, “He was just… weird.”

“Francesca, don’t talk about people like that!” Paul scolded her, “That man was Frank’s friend!”

“No, it’s okay really. He often gives people weird vibes,” I shrugged, only really having experience of that one night when he scared off my muggers and almost me, but deciding that that was probably enough evidence to go by.

“Well anyway, I’m sorry,” he checked his watch and his eyes widened in surprise, “We’ve been here hours! Come on Francesca! Your mother will be getting worried sick! I guess we’ll take this guitar then please, Frank!” He said as he unplugged and handed me Francesca’s red guitar.

“Of course! I’ll just get the case for you.”

I rushed into the back room and quickly packed up the guitar that was still slightly warm from use before carrying it back out to the father and daughter who stood observing the items in the glass counter. “Are you paying by cash or credit?” I asked, Pauls only answer being the credit card that he handed me. I plugged the card him for him and as he entered his pin number he asked me, “So, do you do lessons or something? Cause Fran here says that she would love to learn some more stuff from you!”

“Uh, I’m sorry,” I murmured, genuinely sorry, “I don’t think I’m qualified for giving actual lessons.”

Paul and Francesca both seemed slightly disappointed before Pauls face lit up again with an idea and he said, “Well, they don’t have to be official lessons! We could just come and jam together, y’know! That way, I’ll be here with you guys and it would just count as very good customer service, given weekly, with a generous tip afterwards.”

I wanted desperately to agree with him, but the idea of them coming back here week after week just didn’t…feel… right. Still, as I looked into Francesca’s huge begging eyes and Pauls hopeful face I found that I didn’t have it in me to disappoint two such lovely people so I sighed and said, “Okay, to be honest with you that actually sounds pretty awesome!”

Paul grinned at me then as he removed his card and put it back in his wallet, “Great!” he exclaimed as I handed the guitar to him over the counter, “I’ll see you next week then Frank!”

“See you next week!” I called back to the man as he walked out the door of the shop, followed closely by his skipping daughter. I laughed at her happy mood, wishing that I could be that age again. You didn’t have a care in the world, there was nothing you needed to worry about and even the idea of growing up itself never even seemed possible to you luxuriously naïve mind.

I sat at the counter again, still grinning, for about another ten minutes before Gerard stormed back into the shop again. The anger was practically radiating off of him in waves and there was blood running down from a scratch on his forehead and down from his nose. His t-shirt also had a blood stain on it and his jacket that he had been wearing earlier was nowhere to be found. I couldn’t help but stare at him as he stormed up to the other side of the counter and slammed his hands down onto the surface. “Where’s Matt?” he practically growled at me.

“Uh, h-he’s down stairs, in, um, in the recording studio.” He pushed himself back up from the counter and began to walk towards the door in the back of the room, completely ignoring me when I called his name out to try to get him to come back and tell me what had happened.

I considered following him downstairs but I couldn’t find the courage within me to actually go through with the idea. Gerard was angry. Like, really angry. I’d rather not get involved with that, thank you. I waited for another ten to fifteen minutes before a calmer Gerard emerged from downstairs, all traces of the blood and scratch gone from his skin, although dried blood still marked his t-shirt. “C’mon,” he muttered, seeming quite tired now, “We’re going home.”

“Bu–” I tried to argue before I was cut off with a sharp, “Now.” From Gerard before he disappeared out of the front of the shop. Not wanting to see him get as angry as he was before again, I walked out from behind the counter. I briefly glanced back to the door leading downstairs to the basement, wondering if I should tell Matt I was going but the thought got interrupted by Gerard opening the door again and saying sternly, “Frank, c’mon. Let’s go.” I glanced at him, then back at the door, before looking at Gerard again and deciding that things would probably just be better right now if I kept Gerard happy. With this in mind I walked out of the door Gerard was holding open for me and climbed into the passenger side of the car. Gerard climbed in the driver’s side and peeled out of the car park before I even had a chance to put my seatbelt on. He didn’t put any music on or try to make any conversation. We just spent the entire drive home in a tense, fragile silence which I was afraid that if broken, then Gerard would literally explode next to me. I settled for turning away from the fuming man next to me and watching as the city streets rushed by outside.

Notes

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