The Story I Paint, The Story You Chase

Gerard's face was really pale after I asked him the simple question. The problem was, I knew who he was. I knew exactly who he was now and that's okay. Hell, I admire him. He's the most talked about graffiti artist across Jersey and New York. My mum's even hear of him and my mum now lives in California. She used to live in Portland, Oregon after my dad and her divorced. I lived with my dad in Jersey, and her job offered her a position in Portland. She didn't hesitate to refuse. She called me years later, and in between, to ask about my life in New York. One particular conversation stuck with me. She asked me about this graffiti artist named 'G' who graffiti-ed much of Newark and Belleville. All I told her was that I had no idea who it was but that everyone here had heard of them. Now I knew who it was and I couldn't be more admirable of the person. The graffiti on his wall matched the style of graffiti out on the streets. It was one of a kind. Like the man behind it, himself. I wouldn't dream of turning him in. Not in my wildest dreams.
Gerard started to fumble with his fingers, and he looked anywhere but at me and he kept fidgeting. He flinched away when I reached out to him and had an overall panicked look in his hazel eyes. The other time someone reacted this was was when I called in one of my high school girlfriends and broke it off, telling her that I ended up falling for this charming man, technically boy still, from the grade higher up. She fidgeted like Gerard was fidgeting as I was telling her. By the end of it she lost her shit and tried to stab me with the knife that the waiter at the restaurant brought with her meal. I did pay for the meal and I left, noting she was a hazard to me.

"I'm not reporting you, G." I smiled softly, my gaze softening the longer I looked at him. I got up and walked over to my bag, where I had put the prints. I went out today, to photograph his graffiti art. I couldn't believe he had created so many pieces. Truly, I was stunned. I pulled out the brown envelope and smiled softly. Some of the pictures weren't of his art and that was what I'd give him now.

"Frank, I can't do this-" Gerard started but I simply cut him off. I didn't want to hear him kicking me out. I couldn't stand getting kicked out after just getting moved in. I wasn't going to let him do that so simply. The pain behind his eyes showed, and his voice even cracked when he said those words to me.

"Gerard.. I went out today, and took these as a thank you to you for letting me stay. I couldn't be more grateful. When I realized who you were, my whole world was flipped around and I knew exactly what to do... I went to the UK with my dad. I still have some photos of that on my camera, and I, I knew at that point you did the graffiti art. I knew as soon as I compared your art to G's art. The one on your wall. Shit, Gerard, I had to do this for you." I handed him five prints. Two of which were photographs of Banksy's street art. He hesitantly took them and inspected them closely. Small tears pricked his eyes at one of the photographs. It was an art work that came in two parts. One part read 'Welcome home' and the second read 'Home is whenever I'm with you.' I watched him flip through the five photographs and smile at all of them.

"Frank- Jesus fucking. You're not reporting me? You're not going to turn me in? I'm famous sure, but also very much wanted. Do you know how much money you'd get?" He asked. I blushed very hard and nodded.

"Fuck the money, Gerard. I've seen you walk in and out of the bookstore, I now live with you. You gave me a home, and you gave me shelter. You helped me call the cops on the murderer and I would be out on the street if not for you. Shut up. I wouldn't do this crap to you. You should know that by now. No we haven't know each other that long properly, but Gerard, think about it... Why would I do that to you?" I asked. I raised a valid point and so he nodded slowly.

"You're right... I- I trust you. Come on, let's set up Netflix. I'll make popcorn and we can watch something to relieve the tension., I'll go out and buy frames for these photographs... I want to let the world know about them. If I have to present my work to a gallery, would you like to feature your photographs? I'll credit you and everything. I promise." I was speechless. This man could pull some strings, and dear god, I'd be somewhere with my life.

"Yes, god yes!" I beamed and bit my lip hard. "So Netflix and Chill?" I asked Gerard and saw him blush a deep scarlet colour.
Two weeks later, I was back at my bookshop job, better dressed thanks to Gerard, and I actually held the job well. My time to run it was eight o'clock in the morning to six in the evening. Gerard talked to my manager with me and she so happened to agree with everything and let me have my job. Gerard dropped me off and picked me up every night and sometimes he'd pop in before my shift ended and he'd buy a comic or ten and get to the check out.* He'd great me and lean over the counter, staring a conversation, telling me about his day and then asking about mine. He went on about comic books often and it was captivating how he talked about his dream job. Today was slightly different though. He burst through the door, angry, and headed to the band section, picked up a copy of 'The Music Leaves Stains: The Complete Story Of The Misfits'. He must have been really angry then. I learned that when he listens to The Misfits or Motörhead, he isn't in a great mood. He marched up to my desk and slammed the book down, practically ripped his wallet out, slammed a forty on the counter, mumbled a 'I'll be in the fucking car', and left. I bit my lip and brought the price of the book down for him, and made his change $25 dollars. He wanted to buy the hardcover, and it was on sale. Original price was $61 dollars. I cut him a good deal. I packed up and left for the car after that.

"Your change is twenty five dollars, Gee." I whispered as I sat myself in the front seat.

"I fucking hate the boss. He hates me I swear. Fuck him. I can't- I need to do something else with my life. I'm wasting it, Frank." He sniffed. I then realized that he wasn't as much angry anymore as he was sad, possibly depressed over the fact that his once dream job is no longer his dream. "I don't want to be stuck in this horrid loop of 'am I getting my pitch turned into something or not?' I'm so tired of it. Frank I want to create and sell, and write. I know a few people... I know they're good but I'm scared." He broke. The Gerard I first met was coming back. The Gerard I got to know was hidden off and a new side of him was being shown to me. He trusted me enough to see this side, and something told me it had been a long time since he trusted anyone with this side of things.. "Frank, I need your help. I don't know what to do. My boss gets my hopes up and then tears them down within the next month or two, telling me I'm not good enough. I almost got published once... And there was that one animated short called 'The Breakfast Monkey' but it's not like it's something of huge success." I nodded.

"I think I have a solution. Now, don't get me wrong it's a long shot, and you have to have something ready, but I'll let you know when we get home, okay?" Gerard sniffled and nodded, wiping his tears and starting the car. I wish I could wipe his tears one day. Frank stop.
What I was planning was really a long shot. Like when those gridiron* players shout to go long and then they throw the ball too far; it was that far a long shot. Back in high school, I had met and become sort of friends with Grant Morrison and I got his number if ever I ran into any creative jams over my art or music. Over the past year, I hadn't contacted him, and maybe now was the time. It wasn't for myself, granted, but it was for someone else, and I knew Grant to be a good person.
Gerard was fidgety when he was driving us home, mumbling about wanting to quit as soon as he could. He needed the job. When we got home, he burst through the door, kicked off his shoes, and plopped down on his couch, sighing. I briefly excuse myself and went to get my phone. I went through my contacts until I found who I was looking for and went into the washroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I was praying he'd pick up, it was 11:31 p.m there at this hour. After four rings, someone picked up.

"Yes, hello? Grant Morrison speaking." His Scottish accent rang through.

"Uh, hey, it's Frank. Don't know if you remember me." As soon as I said my name he started laughing and asking how his 'good boy Frank' was doing. I laughed slightly and told him about my predicament, and who helped me. "That sounds tough, is he good to ya at least?" I blushed hard.

"No, yeah, he's really good," Which resulted in Grant laughing really hard, "but I'm actually calling about something in regard to him." Silence fell on the other side of the line, meaning that I should start explaining, he didn't ask when it came to the serious stuff, he just let me talk. "He's a comic book artist, hell, he's a fucking artist. He is art. He's stuck at Cartoon Network and they've only let him have one idea pitched and turned into a cartoon. He's been working there since god knows how long. His boss... Listen, this was Gerard's dream job, and now it's not. He's devastated about it. It may not seem like it to outsiders, but living with him, it really shows. His boss lets him pitch an idea, and the within two months, rejects it. I was wondering if you could figure something out for him. He's so sweet, and collaborative. It's so easy to work with him, Grant, please." I explained. There was a brief silence.

"Give him my email, and my number. He can text me. I need a pitch within three months. I want something nobody has seen before. No written plot line needed yet, just two characters and a brief outline of what kind of story it'll be. I know a publishing company who needs someone... And if his comic art is sufficient, he can work with Gabriel." I grinned and walked out of the bathroom, running up to Gerard, beaming.

"Thank you ever so much. Do send me a text with those words exactly, and an audio. I need it for something very important." I smiled. Gerard looked confused but still, depressed about his job. It would go on, even with this news. Although the news would make him feel so much better.

"Will do, now leave me be, I need to continue on this one idea, right after the audio recording of what I said, and the text." He laughed out to me, causing me to giggle.

"I owe you. Thanks, man. Goodnight!" I ended the call and looked at Gerard with hopeful eyes. "Gee, okay, look, this is going to seem really ridiculous, and really stupid, and dear god you might punch me... But I was just on the phone with me friend," Gerard cut me off.

"Frank, your friends can't help me. I didn't even know you had any,"

"Neither did I but listen... I got off the phone with Grant Morrison and-" I got punched by Gerard Way there and then, which is technically what I accounted for. He then told me not to fucking joke about it when I got that audio from him, shushed Gerard, and played it for him.
'Give him my email, and my number. He can text me. I need a pitch within three months. I want something nobody has seen before. No written plot line needed yet, just two characters and a brief outline of what kind of story it'll be. I know a publishing company who needs someone... And if his comic art is sufficient, he can work with Gabriel.' Gerard's jaw dropped after I played the audio. He even added in the few simply words of 'Frank, you bastard, you better be happy for getting Gerard all this.' There was a small laugh at the end and I grinned, looking at Gee whose eyes lit up.

"Frank, that's Grant Morrison." I nodded, and for a brief second Gerard looked to my lips and then back to my face. The look plastered on his own screaming that he could kiss me. Instead, he hugged me tight, and I returned the hug to him without hesitation. This was our second hug, and it was just as comforting and warm as the first one. Never mind the fact that he punched me at first, this was a whole different level of comfort. He held me tightly against him and I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady and it picked up quickly. His chin rested on top of my head, and I closed my eyes. "Thank you." He whispered to me, and for a brief second I thought he kissed the top of my head, but I had to have been imagining it. It wasn't possible. I nuzzled into his chest slightly and held him tighter, rubbing his back to show him comfort. I didn't want to admit it, but he smelled like my favourite things. My heart ached. He smelled like freshly brewed organic coffee, and nicotine. He smoked quite a bit. "Thank you so much, Frank. This means so much to me. I don't know how you know the most important people, but I don't know what I'd do without you." He pulled away and looked at me with the most sincerity I've seen in the past few years of my life.

"I've known Grant since high school, I went to comic con and we hit it off, exchanged emails and then later on, numbers. It's not a problem, Gee." I smiled and pulled out my phone. "Want the email and number?" He nodded eagerly. I handed the phone to him after I pressed share contact. "Just enter your number." He grinned, shot me a look and did as I said, sending himself Grant Morrison's information. "Now... You can text him in the morning, okay? We need to celebrate." I smiled gently, causing Gee to blush.

"How do you want to celebrate?" He asked me quietly, fidgeting with his hands, looking up into my eyes. "I mean... I don't want to go out if we don't have to, but it would be kind of nice." He admit. "We could eat out?" He inquired.

"Gerard, are you asking me out?" I giggled. He blushed hard and shook his head. He stuttered out a small 'I meant as friends' and I just smiled. "I know silly, don't worry. Come on. I'll pay. I found this cute little restaurant in New York, not too far from downtown. It's like a vegan, vegetarian thing." I smiled happily. "Blossom On Carmine. Supposed to be really good. Fancy." I continued.
We got to the restaurant in under an hour, and managed to get a table. I ordered us some wine and whatever Gerard's heart desired. He decided to order the Au Poivre and quinoa salad, while I got the pasta. We both took bites of each others meals and laughed over jokes and stories we told each other. I really got him to open up over out little dinner and honestly, I think his laugh and stories were one of the best things. He was becoming a good influence on my life, and I really enjoyed that. He was a good influence overall. Look what I did for him. I got him a pitch with Grant Morrison. He wouldn't stop thanking me. If there was a silence, he'd thank me. I tried to make sure we stayed on stories instead of him thanking me forever. I didn't need to be thanked, not really. Grant was a friend, and Gerard was a friend but of different sorts. He was special, but not special if you understand.

"Okay, okay, so I come home and I hear the toast pop up right? No big deal, so I call my brother and tell him the toast is ready. I go sit down in the living room and start doing my homework. I was wondering what was taking so long. I'd gone through five math problems, which is ridiculous. I suck at math mind you, and suddenly I hear this crackling and then this small explosion, next thing I know, the fire alarm went off!" I started laughing, trying to to hold in any food I had in my mouth. "The fucker made the toaster explode! He stuck a fork in it. I didn't think anyone was on that level of mentality while in high school. At most I thought he'd get a plastic knife." I smiled wide and nodded.

"Yeah, why didn't he?" I laughed out gently.

"Something about aesthetic or something. He ran for the fire extinguisher though, so something good came out of it. Fuck.. All I remember is that and mum and dad coming home to a charred counter. They replaced it with a black counter because they didn't want to deal with Mikey's shit." He cracked a beautiful smile and I couldn't hold back from grinning right back at him. "Any stories you have?"

"Okay.. This is crap compared to yours, but I remember that when I was in high school, grade nine, I was so afraid I was gay because I knew that that wasn't widely accepted. I have no shame admitting that I'm straight as a circle now, but back then it was different. So I took this girl out. She was pretty, smart, she wasn't skinny or big, she took care of herself really well and ate healthy all the time. I took her- oh god, okay, I took her to the movies." I bit my lip.

"Wow, Frank, romantic." Gerard winked. I threw a piece of bread at Gerard.

"Shut up, okay?" I laughed. "I paid for the movie, the food, everything. She bent the rules some and caved, letting me buy her popcorn. So during the movie I tried to put my arm around her, it's what people do, but I misjudged the distance and kind of, erm... Elbowed her in the face." I said that as Gerard was taking a small sip of water, and he nearly spit it out. He hadn't touched his wine but that was okay.

"Oh man, you're the definition of romance, aren't you?" He laughed out. "Elbowing your date in the face? Remind me to be careful around you." He joked. "Don't want to get hit on." I earned a small wink from Gerard, causing a deep scarlet to travel up my neck and bloom across my cheeks.

"Oh yeah... I treat my date with a nice hospital visit." I tried to cover my blush. In all honesty, Gerard made me nervous. He made me nervous in the best way possible. Deep in my mind, I half wanted this to be a date, but I knew it wasn't so I blocked that thought out. It felt like we were on one despite our platonic feelings. "Least I haven't fucked up this dinner yet." I noted quietly.

"Hey, hey, you're not going to fuck up this dinner. Trust me." Gerard assured me, reaching across the table to hold my hand. I smiled and squeezed his hand gently. "Frank, honestly, this is amazing. I've never had someone treat me to something like this and I'm so grateful for it. Thank you. And thank you for getting me that pitch with Grant Morrison." He thanked me again. I saw the waitress walk over to us.

"Sorry to interrupt your dinner, could I get the lovely couple a dessert after?" She asked. Gerard started sputtering, and my eyes widened. I pulled my hand away from Gerard's quickly, hurt flashing over his face.

"No, we're not a couple." He corrected her. "We're just friends, trust me." He halfheartedly smiled, glancing at me. "I'll have a dessert if it's okay with Frank." He bit his lip in this very Gerard way. Nobody could do something the way he did. It made my heart beat hard. I dumbly nodded. "Cool. I'll have a coconut chocolate mousse." He spoke from the side of his mouth and he spoke quickly. It was from the amount of times he spoke with a cigarette dangling from his thin pink lips.

"It'll be ready for when you finish your meals." She politely smiled and walked away. I looked over to Gee and shot him an apologetic look.

"No, no. I get it. It looks odd to hold hands with someone who isn't your date. Thanks for letting me have the mousse though." I sighed at his words and nodded. "So... That date story..." He and I started laughing.

"God, it's so bad. I can find her in the phone book and call her up, get punched in the face for me coming out to her, then have her tell you the story about the date and how big an asshole I am. Have fun with that one. She took is so well." I drawled sarcastically, causing a giggle to escape Gerard.

"Hey, you don't chose your sexuality. Even if you did, who cares? Whatever, it's love." Gerard explicitly looked into my eyes as he said those last three words, and suddenly, so many things in my mind changed.

Notes