Follow Me Home (Frerard)

Gerard's POV
Oh shit, oh SHIT. This is so stressful, I'm incapable of even spelling shit correctly.
"ROBERT FUCKING BRYAR!" I yell at the top of my lungs. "Get your ass in here before I have to drag you in here by your balls!"
Only a second later, Bob appears in my doorway looking sheepish. He leans against the doorframe, feigning innocence. "Yes, Gerard?"
"You sent him a message!? And called him hot stuff?" I can feel my eyes bulging out of my head so far I'm slightly concerned they might fall out of my skull altogether. "What the hell are you thinking!?"
Bob sighs, coming farther into the room and shrugging. I notice that Jamia pushes past him in the doorway, making herself comfortable on my bed and pulling out her cell phone. She probably senses this is going to take awhile. I don't mind. I'm focusing everything I have at the moment on not strangling my roommate. I stand up furiously and grab his arm, dragging him into the hallway and pulling the door halfway shut to give us a little bit of privacy. "I was thinking you might actually want to get to know him," Bob says like it's suddenly his duty to play Cupid. I imagine Bob in a diaper, floating and waving around bow and arrow. Okay, that's disturbing.
I shake my head, trying to get the image out. "If I want a boyfriend, I can find one on my own."
"You already found somebody," Bob points out, gesturing with his hands. "I was just giving you a little push in the boyfriend direction."
I heave out a heavy sigh and close my eyes, feeling a headache coming on. I jab a finger toward the bedroom door, in the general direction where my computer is sitting. "Delete it before he sees it," I command.
Bob purses his lips and shakes his head a little. "No can do."
"What?" I narrow my eyes at him, attempting to look menacing. "Yes can do. Bob can do. BOB DO."
Bob just watches me with an amused smirk. "Bob doing is not the issue, Gee," He laughs. "It's already been delivered. Even if I delete the sent message, it will still show up to him."
I bite down on my lip and glare at the man before me. "Why do you hate me?" I ask.
"I don't hate you, Gerard," He laughs again. "I just want you to stop moping around the apartment, spending every waking moment on comics. I want you to stop being afraid of people. People can be nice."
"Last time I checked, you were just as much of a hermit as I am," I snap, crossing my arms.
"And then I met Jamia." His blue eyes flash to the girl relaxing on my bed, visible around the corner of the door. She's watching her phone with a serious, concerned expression. Bob smiles a little, his gaze softening with adoration. "I guess she brings my outgoing side to the surface." He shrugs, turning back to me. "I just want you to be happy. Maybe this Frank guy can make you happy."
"Or maybe he lives a gazillion miles away and I'm never going to meet him." I argue. "Maybe I want to be a hermit. Maybe I like my comics and avoiding people."
Bob shakes his head sadly. "Then why are you still talking to him?" He wonders. It sounds like a rhetorical question; He knows exactly why I'm still talking to Frank. It's because Bob is right.
I don't want to be a loner. Does anybody? I mean everybody wants at least a little human interaction, right? Sure, I love my comics, but I love working with Gabriel and Shaun on them more than sitting at my desk alone. I love posting the new drawings to Twitter and getting virtual feedback because even if it isn't in person, it still makes me feel special. Just like talking to Frank makes me feel.
Eventually I sigh and cross my arms against my chest, leaning back against the wall. "He lives in Florida," I finally say. "Odds are, I'll never even see the guy."
"Well if my Skype message works, then you'll see his face soon enough," Bob beams, looking proud of himself.
I raise an eyebrow doubtfully. "Or you scared the shit out of him and he'll never want to even tweet me again."
Bob shrugs. "Then I will just have to find you someone new."
"You're a horrible person," I state.
Bob nods. "Yeah, it keeps me awake at night." He laughs and moves back into the room, standing in front of Jamia, who is talking to her phone. Not into her phone, but to the screen. What the hell is she doing? Does she know how to work a phone?
He asks her something I can't hear, but she nods and follows him out of the room. They close the door behind them as the couple makes their way into the kitchen. I stand in the hallway for a few moments longer, contemplating everything.
I shouldn't care so much. Frank is just a random guy I met online. It's not like just talking can turn into a relationship anyway. I'm stressing about absolutely nothing. Why would I care so much if Bob's message does scare him away? I shouldn't care. I don't care....
I sigh, pulling my bedroom door open and going back inside. Falling onto my bed, I groan. Running both hands through my hair, I close my eyes.
"Oh, Gerard..."
The sudden voice makes me gasp and I roll over onto my stomach. Panic swells up like a tidal wave because I'm completely alone; Who the hell said my name?!
For a split second, I think that maybe I imagined it. But then I see it.
Jamia's phone is propped up a little on my pillow, oddly angled toward me but pointing more upward at the ceiling. The image moves a little before the face comes into focus and I lean closer, wanting to see every detail of it.
Hazel and bloodshot eyes stare back at me from under perfectly arched eyebrows. Red and puffy, they still look wet from tears. Tears? He was crying? Either that or he was hella baked...
I take in every detail from the curve of his rugged jaw, the bow of his pink lips, the piercings that adorn his mouth and nose. His black hair falls in every direction is a messy style.
Frank...?
The bedroom door is pushed open again and I jump up in an instant to face Jamia. "Hey, G--" I lunge forward, panic making me move as I wrap my arms around her small frame. Her face presses into my shoulder and my name is muffled against the fabric of my shirt. She laughs awkwardly and I pull back, my eyes wide. "I was lonely," I say because, well hell-- It was the first excuse that came to mind. "I just wanted a hug. I'm gonna go hug Bob, too." With that, I step around her and move into the hallway.
Resting my back against the wall, I sigh and try to figure out what the hell just happened. Jamia was talking to Frank? How the frick does Jamia know Frank!?
"BOB!" I yell and race into the kitchen.
He's leaning against the counter, eating a banana. With a mouth full of food, he looks up. "Huh?"
"You met Jamia awhile back, right?" I demand. "Where is she from? Like before she came here?"
Bob's eyebrows crease in confusion to my sudden interrogation, but he swallows and says, "Tallahassee... Why?"
Oh fuck. I was horrible at Geography, but I've watched Zombieland enough to know that Tallahassee is in Florida. My eyes widen at the sudden realization and my breath seems to be stuck in my throat. She's from Florida. Frank is from Florida.
Jamia saunters into the room, smiling and with her phone in her hand. "What's up?" She asks glancing between Bob and I.
"You fucking Floridian!" I yell and practically sprint back to my room. Slamming the door behind me, I mentally curse myself. Am I having a mental breakdown? That's probably it. I'm having a breakdown.
I try to control my breathing and slowly move to my desk, falling into the chair and putting my head in my hands. I hear a faint ringing noise, but figure it's just in my head. Ringing ears is a sign of a mental breakdown right?
"I'm such a fucking idiot," I groan and slam my head down onto my desk, hitting the keyboard of my laptop instead. The ringing stops and I look up, wondering if my breakdown is over. But when my head raises, I'm met with that same familiar face, this time showing through the screen of my laptop.
"Umm..." I manage to say awkwardly. "Hi?"

Notes