Follow Me Home (Frerard)

Gerard's POV
Nearly three weeks pass. Nineteen days since deactivating my Twitter account. I would be lying if I said I didn't pull the same webpage up every single day, staring longingly at the little blue icon and regret my decision. A few times, I even clicked sign in, typing in my old username and password. But each time, I would close out before hitting continue.
I tried to keep myself busy, but it was hard since I didn't want to come out of my room. There's only so much I can do in the confines of a fifteen square foot bedroom. At first, I focused all of my attention on school and finishing up the projects that were due before Thanksgiving. I finished everything within the first week and was left to my own devices. After that, I tried to work on Umbrella Academy, but that was even worse than doing nothing. As I sat on my bed, sketchbook in my lap, I found my own hands creating the eyes I'd only ever seen once. Frank's. Needless to say, I ripped that drawing up and actually burned the pieces in the ashtray beside my bed.
Bob only tried to talk to me a few times since the night I talked to Frank on Skype, the night that I kicked Bob out of my room and told him to stop helping me. I think, after a few days, he got the point that I was still pissed at him and wanted to be left alone.
Of course, it was on the nineteenth day that everything changed.
It was Thanksgiving day and I was curled on my bed, watching The Matrix on my laptop, when a black pop-up appeared across the screen. It was an incoming call from Skype. Seeing the words "MikeyMouse" flashing, I sigh and answer the call. Almost immediately, I'm confronted with my brother's cheerful face. "Hey bitch tits!" He grins. "Happy Thanksgiving!"
"Yeah, whatever," I grumble and shift on the bed so I'm more comfortably holding the laptop.
Mikey frowns at me and his eyebrows crease. "Whoa, you look like shit."
"Thanks."
"When's the last time you slept?" He asks.
"Yesterday," I reply vaguely, leaving out the fact that I only slept for a total of three hours.
"What about eating?" He wonders. "Please tell me you didn't have microwavable lasagna for Thanksgiving."
"I did not have microwavable lasagna," I say honestly. Mikey smiles approvingly for only a second before I mutter, "I had frozen pizza."
My brother rolls his eyes at me, sighing. "Where's Bob?"
I shrug, not really caring. "Out with his girlfriend, I think. I don't know. I haven't talked to him in like three weeks."
One of Mikey's eyebrows shoot up. "Why? Did you guys have a fight?"
I groan, giving Mikey a harsh look. "Does it matter?"
Mikey sighs and rolls his eyes. "Fine, if you don't want to tell me, don't. I'll just call Bob and--"
"I met somebody," I blurt out, but immediately bite down on my lip. A small smirk appears on my brothers lips when I eventually continue. "A guy. A really cute, awesome, fantastic guy."
"Awww," Mikey coos. "My big brother is playing the dating game! Fucking finally!"
"Yeah," I smile sarcastically. "And then your big brother's roommate fucked it all up and this fantastic guy called me a creep and told me to never talk to him again."
"Oh..." Mikey's enthusiasm disappears and he frowns. "Well what happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I say, crossing my arms and slinking back in my pillows.
But Mikey just shakes his head at me. "Yes, you do. Now spill."
So I do. I tell Mikey everything, from Frank's very first message on Twitter to the message Bob sent him on Skype and even about the Skype call itself. When I finish, Mikey's brow is furrowed and he looks deep in thought. "That doesn't make any sense," He finally says. "You guys were talking perfectly fine until Bob barged in, right?"
I nod slowly and shrug. "Maybe that was when he came to his senses and realized that I am just a freak."
"You're not a freak, Gerard," Mikey says and suddenly he sounds like the older brother, seeming more wise. "You just need to get out, okay? You've been cooped up in your dorm for three weeks. You need to get out and go do something."
I laugh once without humor. "And do what? I hate people, Mikes."
"Then go see Gabriel," He suggests. "You haven't been to the comic shop in forever. Buy a copy of your comic book and send it to me. And you better autograph that shit, I'm gonna sell it on eBay."
I chuckle and roll my eyes. "Fine. Tell Alicia I say hi."
"And tell I Bob I said to mind his own damn business and leave your love life alone." Mikey grins. "I'll talk to you later."
The call ends and I sit there on my bed for a few more minutes, staring at the screen. Frank and Mikey are the only contacts I have on Skype and my eyes are drawn to the first. I could call him. I could just press a single button and see his face just one more time. I chew on my bottom lip, contemplating it before exiting out of the page and standing up. He was right-- I was a creep. But Mikey was right, too; I needed to get out.
The air is thick with smoke, normal for New York, and bodies bustle on the sidewalks. Even with it being a holiday, taxis line the road and the sound of honking fills my ears. It's getting colder, but the winter weather hasn't settled in just yet and we haven't seen any snow.
When I push open the door to the comic book shop, I'm disappointed to see Becky sitting behind the desk instead of Gabriel. Still, she greets me with a chipper, "Hey, Gerard!" and I nod, returning the smile. I wander through a few aisles before reaching the shelf where my comic was placed a few weeks ago. It's not a new release anymore, so I shouldn't be surprised when I don't find them there. But, moving through the different aisles, my frown deepens when I don't see a single copy anywhere.
"Hey, Becky," I say, coming to the front of the shop and stuffing my hands into my coat pockets. "Did Shaun ditch my comic? I can't find any and my brother wanted a copy."
"Oh, I think there are a few left in the back," Becky says, pointing a pen toward the back room. "All the others sold out."
I freeze at her last statement and my eyes widen. "What?"
"Oh yeah," She nods, grinning. "Last one sold like a week ago. Shaun was talking about getting more ordered in, but with the holiday..." She moves her hands around in a weird gesture. "Everybody was kind of busy. But I think there are a few more copies back if you wanna go check."
I swallow hard and nearly run into the back room. All of my comics sold out. There had to have been at least seventy and they all sold. I find myself grinning when I find four more copies of my own creation lying on Shaun's desk. I grab two of them and head back out to see Becky. She's scribbling away on her iPad when I step up to the desk and pull my wallet out. "How much?" I ask.
Becky looks at me incredulously and laughs, shaking her head. "No way. Gerard, they're yours. Take 'em. I bet Shaun hasn't paid you yet anyway."
She rolls her eyes when my own widen once again. He's going to pay me? It seems logical; He's selling my work. I'm the creator. I should get paid. And yet the thought of earning a profit had never occurred to me. Becky laughs, shaking her head again. "Take them," She repeats. "I'll tell Shaun you stopped by."
I nod and smile before grabbing the comics, waving, and going back out into the cool air.
When I get back to the apartment, I am disappointed to see that the front door is unlocked, meaning that Bob is home. However, he's hidden in his room-- with or without Jamia, I'm not sure-- and I shut myself back in my bedroom without seeing him. When I turn on my laptop, though, I feel my jaw clench and I let out an angry huff of air. A notepad comes up as I log on and I instantly realize that Bob has, once again, been using my laptop. "Bob, stop hacking my fucking computer!" I yell through the walls, but I'm already reading what the note says.
'Gerard, Jamia found something you might like.'
After that is a link. I follow the link, which leads me to YouTube. As soon as the video loads, my heart falls into my stomach and I glare at the screen. Within the first two seconds, I can make out the front person, standing behind a microphone with a guitar in his hands. There's another guitarist and a drummer I don't recognize, but I pay them no mind. I'm focused on only Frank. I watch as he begins strumming the guitar slowly, the drums kicking in behind him. When Frank's mouth presses to the microphone, I hear his voice.
I don't recognize the song and I absently wonder if it's original. But as the words he's singing hit my ears, I feel a swarm of emotions building in the pit of my stomach.
'I'm trying, to let you know how much you mean to me.'
It's mesmerizing, watching him with his guitar. The passion flares in his eyes, seeping into his voice with raw emotion and desperation. When the song suddenly stops, I think the video is over, and the sadness that sinks in my heart is almost too much. But when the second guitarist and drummer continue, I realize it's not yet finished. Frank sighs, his eyes drifting closed, his parted lips shining with saliva. He looks so... Raw. It's pure and passionate and I can see the pleasure that's coursing through him when he's playing, and then he starts singing again.
When the screen does finally go black, I'm left staring at it for a long time. I don't know how to react. Why would Bob and Jamia want me to see that? Why would they want me to see the guy that called me a creep? But when I close the window and pull up my Skype, I realize that they, against my wishes, were just trying to help once again. A new message was sent to Frank from my Skype.
'I'm really sorry if you think I'm a creep, but I just wanted to let you know I saw the video of you playing and it was awesome. I get it if you want me to leave you alone now..."
I sigh, shaking my head. Frank was going to think I was obsessed with him. But maybe I was. He was all that I could think about, but I didn't want him to know that. I'm about to delete the message and hope Frank never saw it, but just as my mouse hovers over the small button, a new message pops up, this time intended for me.
"Gerard? OMG I thought you were pissed at me. I'm so sorry! I'm gonna call you..... If that's okay?"
A trace of a smile graces my lips as I read the message, having no time to reply before the black window pops up, asking if I want to accept the call. I bite down on my lip before swallowing hard and answering the call.

Notes