You Are A Beautiful Human ((Frerard))
Chapter 1
Gee's POV
I check my phone and groan. Its 11:15am, the 88 comes every 15mins, the last due at 11:13. It'd better be late because I'm gonna be pissed if I have to perch on a crappy metal plank for 13minutes and freeze to death. I'm too busy mentally cursing my father for keeping me, the traffic lights taking an absolute age to change and the crowd I got caught in on the way, to notice something bumpy beneath my feet as I sit down.
"Sorry" I mumble apologetically as I realise the bumpy thing was a guys foot. He doesn't look at me, instead he tenses and looks scared but after a second he forces a smile, takes out an earbud and mutters a "Don't worry about it". He catches my eye and I watch him for a moment, although he's sat down I think he's quite short. He's wearing a misfits band tee, some skinny jeans, converses and sunglasses. He's looking away down the road but I have to admit he's a tiny bit cute. I tell myself to stop - he's probably straight and has a girlfriend, but although socialising isn't my forte, there is that cuteness. The cons of talking to him include the inevitable awkwardness, rejection and humiliation but the pros include the cute and I feel like that's a very important aspect.
I prepare the question in my head, gulping, and force the words out, against my better judgement.
"Has the 88 gone yet?"
Immediately I regret it, feeling myself shrink back slightly, slapping myself for how much of an idiot I must seem.
"Um I don't- I wouldn't know" he stammers "I mean I heard one but uh I'm blind, I'm just waiting for someone".
First, I feel my heart sink, aware of how horrific vision loss is. Then, I realise it's my turn to speak and I hadn't planned for a response like that and I'm sat probably looking like a goldfish.
"Okay" I mumble eventually "Uh. Right. Sorry"
"It's okay, don't apologize" he murmurs.
"Okay"
We go back to waiting for a bus which doesn't seem to be coming and I continue to slap myself this time for the flop that 'conversation' became.
I can't help but wonder about his sight. He probably wasn't born blind, his eyes are hidden by sunglasses and from this angle I can see they're open, and if he was born blind he probably would've never developed the muscles to - or a had a need to - keep them open. It could have been illness, cancer. He doesn't seem particularly thin or 'ill' but that's an unfair assumption to make. Nonetheless, it seems unlikely. And if it was, it was most likely a while ago, which may be why he's short, maybe illness stunted his growth. I chew on the skin around my nail, trying to work it out.
"What happened?" I question, my curiosity taking over.
"Huh?"
"To your sight. Sorry that's personal."
"It's alright, I lost it 3 years ago now, when I was 13" he answers, relaxing a little "I was in a car crash, and hit my head pretty hard, I got some brain damage and was in a coma for a few days, my optic nerve and the bit of the brain that processes vision was completely fucked and when I woke up I couldn't see a thing."
I stare at him, in shock. That's what nightmares are made of.
"That's terrifying" I breathe.
"It was" he chuckles.
"Still uh you survived and you're still here now which is awesome" I add trying to lighten the mood. He smiles and I find myself doing the same.
"You got any social media?" he asks.
"Tumblr and twitter" I reply, a little suspicious, I don't let just anyone in real life know me online.
"Oh awesome! I love tumblr" he exclaims "What's your URL?"
I feel my insides buzz slightly, as I realise he's not 'just anyone' and one of my people.
"Uh, 'Pancakes at the disco'" I tell him "But the second 'a' in pancakes and the 'i' in disco are replaced with an x and there's a dash after pancakes"
"The x's are where? And a dash? How do you expect me to remember that?" he chuckles "Panic! at the disco, though, good choice of fandom"
"Thanks um do you know braille?" I ask. He nods and a puzzled look crosses his face. "Hold on a second" I say. Opening up my sketchbook (it lives permanently under my arm) I take out a pencil, and begin pressing dots into the page. Once my tumblr URL is written out in braille I contemplate risking everything. Do I write my phone number too? I hate phone calls, and it's probably not appropriate considering we've had a conversation of about 8 sentences. But he's cute and I find myself once again against my better judgement, pressing some more indentations into the thick paper.
"Done" I announce a few moments later, tearing out the section of braille and handing it to the guy. I still haven't asked his name.
"I'm a little rusty, uh, it's been a while. Do you want- uh can you- maybe spell it out so I know I got it right?" I murmur.
"p-a-n-c-x-k-e-s-dash-a-t-t-h-e-d-x-s-c-o" he spells out, gently moving his finger across the bumps "And the phone number is 0-7-7-3-8-5-0-2-7-9-3, thanks so much"
"That's right" I confirm.
"But how do you know braille?" He questions. I gulp, having anticipated the question but sort of hoping he wouldn't ask.
"My brother had eye cancer and stopped being able to read or write, so he learned braille and I learned it too just because" I explain quietly looking at the ground.
"I'm so sorry, shit" he murmurs.
"Frank!" a call interrupts our conversation. He turns his head to the source of the voice, a woman with long blonde almost white hair dip dyed pastel pink, a fringe blowing back in the wind, dozens of bangles and patterned skinny jeans. Her garish appearance is borderline overstimulating. Darting across the road, she approaches us.
"Frank I bought McDonalds well I got you just chips seeing as you don't eat meat anymore. I don't know if there's lactose in them though but a bit won't hurt" the woman tells him.
"Thanks mom!" Frank, I now realise he's called, grins. The woman, his mom, glances over to me and I tense, her gaze burning my skin.
"So whose your new friend?" she asks cheerily.
"Um this is-" he starts before frowning in my direction.
"Gee" I force a smile.
"Yeah he gave me his tumblr and phone number, he knows braille" he tells his mum. I feel my heart sink but don't say anything.
"Wow awesome, well nice to meet you Gee" she beams shaking my hand "Want a chip?"
I frown, the clamminess of her hand making my skin crawl, longer after she's let go, but I still feel disappointed as I see the 88 pull up.
"Um I've got to go, this is my bus" I mutter, standing up.
"Okay Gee! I'll make sure Frank gives you a call!" Franks mom assures me, smiling.
"Bye!" I hear frank and his mum call in unision and I watch him smile and his mum wave as I scan my travelcard and the bus pulls away.
***
Once I get home I notice I have a new tumblr follower. 'frnkoutboy'. I gingerly open up his blog, for some reason quite worried about what to expect. Before I get to see anything the computer starts blaring the misfits and I practically throw it across the room in a frenzy to shut it up. I have a special hatred for blogs that hit you over the head with a radio when you open them.
Nevertheless, an almost meltdown later, once the music's safely muted I take a look at his blog. Its a simple theme, with a green color scheme but that's to be expected.
I take a look at Franks description '• Frank • 16 • pan • cis • he/him • Halloween • blind bookworm • punk af •'. Two things stick out at me about that, 1. He put his pronouns and the fact he's cis in his description, hopefully that means he understands there are more that two genders. 2. He's pan. That means he likes all genders. I come under all genders, that means he has the potential to like me. This is good.
(A/N: this note is meaningless to you)
I scroll through some of his posts, most of them are reblogs of, understandably, text or audio posts but there are some videos and the odd picture with an image description. He seems to mostly reblog stuff on bands, which is awesome, social justice, which makes me happy knowing he's not a sexist racist arsehole, bad puns, nothing wrong with that and the "take me to snurch (snail church)" meme, pretty cool if you ask me. Looking at the sidebar again, I debate which link to click on. There's 5: ask, archive, personal, FAQ and music. I click on personal first and read through all his own posts tagged personal. Half an hour passes with me still on this tag, reading his life updates, late night ramblings and even the odd photo of him. Saying I didn't save them all would be lying. I even reach selfies and posts back from when he was 13, before he lost his eyesight, there's only a few weeks worth, he can't have been on the website long but it hurts my heart nonetheless. I feel tears prick my eyes as I read anguished rants from 14 year old frank about how he was trapped and stranded away from reality unable to experience anything but crushing darkness.
Feeling slightly overwhelmed, I leave the tag and click FAQ. Sass wasn't the thing that struck me first when meeting frank or looking at his blog, but I can see it escaping on this page, making me giggle as I read his answers to frankly dumb questions he probably gets asked far too often. It is quite informative though, he explains his sexuality, the cause of his blindness including all the technical terms and for a 16 year old gives some damn good advice.
Having finished reading the page, I click on the third link, the one entitled music unsure of what to expect. I genuinely let out a squeal as I realise frank makes music and this is a tag full of audio posts of all his songs. With a lot of self control I keep myself from playing one, if I woke my dad up I'd be toast. There are a few texts posts in the tag which I read avidly, he mentions playing guitar in his FAQ but I completely underestimated how experienced he actually is. He has posts the length of the lord of the rings trilogy on the ins and outs of his guitar and apparently he played in bands in clubs from the age of 11 but had to stop when he was 13 because of the accident. He didn't stop playing however and has albums worth of songs written, which sometimes he records on his phone and puts on tumblr.
I'm gonna risk it. I turn the volume down incredibly low and press play on the latest audio post with baited breath unsure of what to expect.
"If we wait, it may be too late" Frank starts singing "We'll make everybody cry, we wouldn't even have to try".
I listen carefully, there's a steady bass line, I mean I think that's what is called and it has an eerie dark vibe to it. This wasn't what I expected at all but I fucking love it. The chorus kicks in and the guitar erupts.
"So let's laugh, let's laugh, let's learn to laugh at ourselves again" he chants. I adore franks voice, its a bit lower pitched than I expected especially in the verses but there's something about it. Its almost whiny, but in a good way, he's like some kinda lost puppy. Seriously though, the passion and emotion that is conveyed through his voice connects with me like nothing else has but as much as it hurts as the song finishes I don't let myself play anymore, too risky.
I go to send him an ask when suddenly a thought strikes me. He followed me so he must of been on my blog. But he hasn't sent me an ask or call or text even though he seemed sure he would. Why? Did it scare him away? Was he never even interested in the first place even just as a friendship? Oh god I'm such an idiot to of even thought he might think I'm an okay person. Why do I do this to myself? Why am I suddenly getting emotional over a stranger I met about 8 hours ago? Truth is he is far too beautiful for me and I was stupid to even think he was in my league. But that's the thing. He is beautiful and he needs to know that. I click on his ask and think for a moment before going onto anon. Carefully I type "You are a beautiful human ❤". I hit ask and as soon as I know its been sent I close everything and flop down on my bed.
I check my phone and groan. Its 11:15am, the 88 comes every 15mins, the last due at 11:13. It'd better be late because I'm gonna be pissed if I have to perch on a crappy metal plank for 13minutes and freeze to death. I'm too busy mentally cursing my father for keeping me, the traffic lights taking an absolute age to change and the crowd I got caught in on the way, to notice something bumpy beneath my feet as I sit down.
"Sorry" I mumble apologetically as I realise the bumpy thing was a guys foot. He doesn't look at me, instead he tenses and looks scared but after a second he forces a smile, takes out an earbud and mutters a "Don't worry about it". He catches my eye and I watch him for a moment, although he's sat down I think he's quite short. He's wearing a misfits band tee, some skinny jeans, converses and sunglasses. He's looking away down the road but I have to admit he's a tiny bit cute. I tell myself to stop - he's probably straight and has a girlfriend, but although socialising isn't my forte, there is that cuteness. The cons of talking to him include the inevitable awkwardness, rejection and humiliation but the pros include the cute and I feel like that's a very important aspect.
I prepare the question in my head, gulping, and force the words out, against my better judgement.
"Has the 88 gone yet?"
Immediately I regret it, feeling myself shrink back slightly, slapping myself for how much of an idiot I must seem.
"Um I don't- I wouldn't know" he stammers "I mean I heard one but uh I'm blind, I'm just waiting for someone".
First, I feel my heart sink, aware of how horrific vision loss is. Then, I realise it's my turn to speak and I hadn't planned for a response like that and I'm sat probably looking like a goldfish.
"Okay" I mumble eventually "Uh. Right. Sorry"
"It's okay, don't apologize" he murmurs.
"Okay"
We go back to waiting for a bus which doesn't seem to be coming and I continue to slap myself this time for the flop that 'conversation' became.
I can't help but wonder about his sight. He probably wasn't born blind, his eyes are hidden by sunglasses and from this angle I can see they're open, and if he was born blind he probably would've never developed the muscles to - or a had a need to - keep them open. It could have been illness, cancer. He doesn't seem particularly thin or 'ill' but that's an unfair assumption to make. Nonetheless, it seems unlikely. And if it was, it was most likely a while ago, which may be why he's short, maybe illness stunted his growth. I chew on the skin around my nail, trying to work it out.
"What happened?" I question, my curiosity taking over.
"Huh?"
"To your sight. Sorry that's personal."
"It's alright, I lost it 3 years ago now, when I was 13" he answers, relaxing a little "I was in a car crash, and hit my head pretty hard, I got some brain damage and was in a coma for a few days, my optic nerve and the bit of the brain that processes vision was completely fucked and when I woke up I couldn't see a thing."
I stare at him, in shock. That's what nightmares are made of.
"That's terrifying" I breathe.
"It was" he chuckles.
"Still uh you survived and you're still here now which is awesome" I add trying to lighten the mood. He smiles and I find myself doing the same.
"You got any social media?" he asks.
"Tumblr and twitter" I reply, a little suspicious, I don't let just anyone in real life know me online.
"Oh awesome! I love tumblr" he exclaims "What's your URL?"
I feel my insides buzz slightly, as I realise he's not 'just anyone' and one of my people.
"Uh, 'Pancakes at the disco'" I tell him "But the second 'a' in pancakes and the 'i' in disco are replaced with an x and there's a dash after pancakes"
"The x's are where? And a dash? How do you expect me to remember that?" he chuckles "Panic! at the disco, though, good choice of fandom"
"Thanks um do you know braille?" I ask. He nods and a puzzled look crosses his face. "Hold on a second" I say. Opening up my sketchbook (it lives permanently under my arm) I take out a pencil, and begin pressing dots into the page. Once my tumblr URL is written out in braille I contemplate risking everything. Do I write my phone number too? I hate phone calls, and it's probably not appropriate considering we've had a conversation of about 8 sentences. But he's cute and I find myself once again against my better judgement, pressing some more indentations into the thick paper.
"Done" I announce a few moments later, tearing out the section of braille and handing it to the guy. I still haven't asked his name.
"I'm a little rusty, uh, it's been a while. Do you want- uh can you- maybe spell it out so I know I got it right?" I murmur.
"p-a-n-c-x-k-e-s-dash-a-t-t-h-e-d-x-s-c-o" he spells out, gently moving his finger across the bumps "And the phone number is 0-7-7-3-8-5-0-2-7-9-3, thanks so much"
"That's right" I confirm.
"But how do you know braille?" He questions. I gulp, having anticipated the question but sort of hoping he wouldn't ask.
"My brother had eye cancer and stopped being able to read or write, so he learned braille and I learned it too just because" I explain quietly looking at the ground.
"I'm so sorry, shit" he murmurs.
"Frank!" a call interrupts our conversation. He turns his head to the source of the voice, a woman with long blonde almost white hair dip dyed pastel pink, a fringe blowing back in the wind, dozens of bangles and patterned skinny jeans. Her garish appearance is borderline overstimulating. Darting across the road, she approaches us.
"Frank I bought McDonalds well I got you just chips seeing as you don't eat meat anymore. I don't know if there's lactose in them though but a bit won't hurt" the woman tells him.
"Thanks mom!" Frank, I now realise he's called, grins. The woman, his mom, glances over to me and I tense, her gaze burning my skin.
"So whose your new friend?" she asks cheerily.
"Um this is-" he starts before frowning in my direction.
"Gee" I force a smile.
"Yeah he gave me his tumblr and phone number, he knows braille" he tells his mum. I feel my heart sink but don't say anything.
"Wow awesome, well nice to meet you Gee" she beams shaking my hand "Want a chip?"
I frown, the clamminess of her hand making my skin crawl, longer after she's let go, but I still feel disappointed as I see the 88 pull up.
"Um I've got to go, this is my bus" I mutter, standing up.
"Okay Gee! I'll make sure Frank gives you a call!" Franks mom assures me, smiling.
"Bye!" I hear frank and his mum call in unision and I watch him smile and his mum wave as I scan my travelcard and the bus pulls away.
***
Once I get home I notice I have a new tumblr follower. 'frnkoutboy'. I gingerly open up his blog, for some reason quite worried about what to expect. Before I get to see anything the computer starts blaring the misfits and I practically throw it across the room in a frenzy to shut it up. I have a special hatred for blogs that hit you over the head with a radio when you open them.
Nevertheless, an almost meltdown later, once the music's safely muted I take a look at his blog. Its a simple theme, with a green color scheme but that's to be expected.
I take a look at Franks description '• Frank • 16 • pan • cis • he/him • Halloween • blind bookworm • punk af •'. Two things stick out at me about that, 1. He put his pronouns and the fact he's cis in his description, hopefully that means he understands there are more that two genders. 2. He's pan. That means he likes all genders. I come under all genders, that means he has the potential to like me. This is good.
(A/N: this note is meaningless to you)
I scroll through some of his posts, most of them are reblogs of, understandably, text or audio posts but there are some videos and the odd picture with an image description. He seems to mostly reblog stuff on bands, which is awesome, social justice, which makes me happy knowing he's not a sexist racist arsehole, bad puns, nothing wrong with that and the "take me to snurch (snail church)" meme, pretty cool if you ask me. Looking at the sidebar again, I debate which link to click on. There's 5: ask, archive, personal, FAQ and music. I click on personal first and read through all his own posts tagged personal. Half an hour passes with me still on this tag, reading his life updates, late night ramblings and even the odd photo of him. Saying I didn't save them all would be lying. I even reach selfies and posts back from when he was 13, before he lost his eyesight, there's only a few weeks worth, he can't have been on the website long but it hurts my heart nonetheless. I feel tears prick my eyes as I read anguished rants from 14 year old frank about how he was trapped and stranded away from reality unable to experience anything but crushing darkness.
Feeling slightly overwhelmed, I leave the tag and click FAQ. Sass wasn't the thing that struck me first when meeting frank or looking at his blog, but I can see it escaping on this page, making me giggle as I read his answers to frankly dumb questions he probably gets asked far too often. It is quite informative though, he explains his sexuality, the cause of his blindness including all the technical terms and for a 16 year old gives some damn good advice.
Having finished reading the page, I click on the third link, the one entitled music unsure of what to expect. I genuinely let out a squeal as I realise frank makes music and this is a tag full of audio posts of all his songs. With a lot of self control I keep myself from playing one, if I woke my dad up I'd be toast. There are a few texts posts in the tag which I read avidly, he mentions playing guitar in his FAQ but I completely underestimated how experienced he actually is. He has posts the length of the lord of the rings trilogy on the ins and outs of his guitar and apparently he played in bands in clubs from the age of 11 but had to stop when he was 13 because of the accident. He didn't stop playing however and has albums worth of songs written, which sometimes he records on his phone and puts on tumblr.
I'm gonna risk it. I turn the volume down incredibly low and press play on the latest audio post with baited breath unsure of what to expect.
"If we wait, it may be too late" Frank starts singing "We'll make everybody cry, we wouldn't even have to try".
I listen carefully, there's a steady bass line, I mean I think that's what is called and it has an eerie dark vibe to it. This wasn't what I expected at all but I fucking love it. The chorus kicks in and the guitar erupts.
"So let's laugh, let's laugh, let's learn to laugh at ourselves again" he chants. I adore franks voice, its a bit lower pitched than I expected especially in the verses but there's something about it. Its almost whiny, but in a good way, he's like some kinda lost puppy. Seriously though, the passion and emotion that is conveyed through his voice connects with me like nothing else has but as much as it hurts as the song finishes I don't let myself play anymore, too risky.
I go to send him an ask when suddenly a thought strikes me. He followed me so he must of been on my blog. But he hasn't sent me an ask or call or text even though he seemed sure he would. Why? Did it scare him away? Was he never even interested in the first place even just as a friendship? Oh god I'm such an idiot to of even thought he might think I'm an okay person. Why do I do this to myself? Why am I suddenly getting emotional over a stranger I met about 8 hours ago? Truth is he is far too beautiful for me and I was stupid to even think he was in my league. But that's the thing. He is beautiful and he needs to know that. I click on his ask and think for a moment before going onto anon. Carefully I type "You are a beautiful human ❤". I hit ask and as soon as I know its been sent I close everything and flop down on my bed.
Notes
So @ 4am i decided to start a second fic! I'm not sure where i'm going with this but i'm excited. The tense might be a bit off in places, i normally write in past but felt like changing this up a bit. Also like i said i spent the hours from between about 3am and 5:30am writing this so it's probably a bit ://
Thanks for reading though
Also i'm revamping my tumblr, like changing the theme idk its still crap but plz follow frnktasy.tumblr.com
Plz leave comments n feedback n all that jazz.
Megan x
@snailthesaints (instagram)
@snailthesaints (twitter)
frnktasy.tumblr.com
@Gee'sCLUELESSgirl!
tysm for being so understanding omg <3
10/29/15