The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

I follow Ray out of the bar and to his vehicle- a white 1994 Mazda Protege, which has obviously seen better days, seeing how it’s got quite a few dents and scratches. I sit down in the front passenger seat and see that the inside of Ray’s car looks just as bad as the exterior; trash is piled to the brim all over the floor and the back seat. I never knew Ray for being a slob. If anything, he was always as much of a neat freak as I used to be in high school; I stopped caring about cleanliness by the time I graduated, which was also when my parents became less restrictive on household chores.
“Sorry about the mess, Frank. Bob and I share this car, and he obviously never cares to clean up after himself,”
“It’s alright, Ray. I don’t mind,” I reply.
“Oh, good,” Ray starts the car, the engine chugging then roaring to life. “Oh, by the way…” he glances over at me, smirking. “Call me Ramona...if you don’t mind, that is,”
“Oh...yeah, that’s fine,”
“Great!”
Ramona? Ray apparently has gone so far in his anti-masculine lifestyle that he prefers others call him by a feminine name? I’m honestly not surprised at all…
I suddenly think of what Ray...no, wait, Ramona and I discussed earlier-Gerard, the roommate that Ramona was so reluctant to tell me about. I’ve gotta remember to bring it up to him. I don’t know what it is exactly, but there’s just a part of me that’s dying of curiosity to know who this guy is. What’s he like? Maybe just one of Bob’s stoner friends, or one of Ray’s (or Ramona’s) drag fanatics. If either of these are true, why is Ramona so unwilling to tell me anything about him? While I think about all this, I patiently wait for Ray-damnit, no-Ramona to pull out of the parking lot and into traffic. As I do, Ray/Ramona turns on the car radio. “How Soon is Now” by The Smiths begins to play. With the music playing, Ray/Ramona and I sit in silence as we both ride out of town and on to the highway.
“So, Frank…” Ray/Ramona began. “Now that you’re gonna be living with all of us...well, I hate to put a lot of pressure on you too quickly, there’s gonna be a catch…”
I seriously don’t care what the catch is. Anything beats living homeless in the slums of New York City.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You’re gonna have to get a job sooner or later. You know, for rent and all,”
“Obviously,”
“I’m not saying you have to find one right away. We’ll give you some time to settle in and get comfy, but after that, you gotta find a place to work. We’re struggling to keep up with living in this place as of right now, so we can use all the help we can get to keep a roof over our heads,”
“I understand. How long do I have?”
“You know, Frank...I’m not sure. But you do got time. Plenty. You’ve been through hell already, so you deserve a break,”
I honestly don’t wanna wait too long until I have to find a way to get money. I’m sick of being broke. Plus I think I’d feel bad about living with everyone else and being the only one not working to pitch in for rent. It would obviously make me look like a mooch and just a lazy sack of shit.
“You know what, Ray-oh, uh...Ramona….I’ll look around when I get the chance. I don’t wanna be the only one not working. I need to make money, anyway,”
“You sure?” Ray/Ramona asked, his brows furrowed. “There’s no need to be in a hurry,”
“I know, but I feel like I should find a job as soon as time allows. It would keep me busy. Plus there’s things I’d want to invest in besides helping you guys pay rent,”
“That’s true. I just felt like you’d want some time to settle down before you do that, considering what’s happened to you,”
“Don’t worry about it. Shit happens, anyway. All you can do is pick yourself back up and move on. I think tomorrow morning I’ll go job hunting and send in some applications, see who’s hiring,”
“Alright then. That’s fine. I’ve got work the next morning, so don’t be surprised if I’m not there when you’re up,”
“Okay. Where do you work, anyway?” I asked, curious of what kind of job someone like Ray/Ramona would have, considering the kind of attire he decides to display himself in out in the public.
“Clothing store called Demi’s. I’m a cashier,”
“Oh. Do they let you...you know, dress like...well, like how you are now?”
“Sadly, no,” Ray/Ramona sighed. “But hey, at least I get to work around those kinds of clothes, so I guess that’s a plus,”
“Sure,” I nod. I figure now is a good time to ask Ray/Ramona about this Gerard character. It shouldn’t hurt to ask now. After all, we made a deal, right?
“So...ah, Ramona,” I started. “You said you’d tell me more about Gerard, right?”
“Oh, right…” Ray obviously looked like he dreaded the moment I would bring it up. “Well, he’s...oh, how should I say this? Different,”
“How so?”
“Well, Frank...he…” Ray sighed again, stumbling over his words. “Okay, let’s just say that he isn’t one to socialize with people. He’s a loner. Y’know? Doesn’t like to be around others,”
“Why not? He shy?” I ask, trying to milk out as much info as I can out of Ray/Ramona, which obviously didn’t please him at all.
“Yeah, but...I think saying that would be an understatement. He’s more like an introvert,”
“Really? How so?”
“Oh my god, Frank. Do you not know what an introvert is?” Ray scoffed.
“Yeah, I do. You’re just not being specific enough!” I replied defensively. I know what an introvert is, it’s someone that keeps to themselves and are pre-occupied with their inner thoughts and feelings. I’m not stupid.
“Okay, he’s a recluse! He never leaves his room. He lives in a world of his own. There, you happy now?” Ray exclaimed, clearly annoyed.
“Well, why doesn’t he ever leave his-”
“Sweet mother of Christ on the hood of a Mercedes Benz!” Ray shouted, nearly making me jump out of my seat. “Who do I look like to you, Morgan Freeman? I’m not gonna sit here and narrate his whole life story to you! Just stay out of his way and you’ll be fine, okay?”
“Oh...I’m sorry”
I’ve obviously pushed Ray too far. Man, seeing him mad is kinda scary. I remembered Ray always being pretty easygoing. It was always so hard to piss him off. I’ve clearly pushed the wrong buttons too much. But still, why would Ray not want me to know much about this Gerard guy? From what little I now know about him, he’s an antisocial hermit that pretty much lives in his bedroom. That alone only makes me ask more questions about him...“I’m sorry, Frank” Ray suddenly said, breaking the awkward silence that formed between us. “I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but just...just leave him alone, okay? Please?”
“It’s alright, man. And sure, I’ll leave him be,”
“Alrighty then. Ready to see your new home?” Ray asked in his usual upbeat sing-songy voice, pulling into the driveway of a small, white frame house.
“Oh wait, we’re here already?” I asked, stunned by how brief the ride between downtown NYC to home felt.
“Yep! Ready to come inside and say hello to everyone?”
“Yeah, sure. Oh, before we go in, I got a question to ask,” I say, suddenly remembering the first thing I wanted to do in my new home, aside from saying hi to Bob and Mikey, of course. “You mind if I take a shower?”
“Not at all, Frank. You live here now, don’t you? Go ahead, knock yourself out!” Ray laughed. “Okay, not literally, but...you know what I mean!”
I step out of the car, feeling my heart race a little as we both make our way up to the front door. It’s gonna feel kinda strange reconnecting with some more people from high school, let alone living with them. It shouldn’t be that bad. Again, it beats being homeless.
Ray opens up the front door and we both step through the front door and into the kitchen, immediately greeted by a strong scent of pot, which is undoubtedly coming from Bob, who’s likely stoned out of his mind by now.
“Sup, Ramona?” a voice emerged from the living room down the hall. “How was the convention?”
“It was great, Bob. Thank you,” Ray/Ramona replied. He waved a hand at me, prompting me to follow him. We walked through the kitchen and into the living room, seeing Bob slouched on the sofa with a plethora of junk food all around him, as well as a bong by his side (of course). Mikey laid on the couch across from Bob, his eyes focused on a comic book in his hand. Bob glanced up at us, his bloodshot eyes widened.
“Frank? What’s up, man?” Bob smiled. “Hey, four eyes, look who it is!”
“Stop calling me that, Bob! I know who it is!” Mikey replied, shooting Bob an irritated look.
“How do you know, wise guy?”
“Because, you just said his name,” Mikey glanced over at me, giving a brief wave before immediately returning to his comic book. “Hi, Frank,”
“Hey, Mikey” I reply, seeing that Mikey hasn’t changed one bit since high school, just like Bob and Ray. He still wears glasses, he’s still thin as a twig, and most of all, he’s still a shy kid that’s infatuated with comic books.
“Say, Frank...whaddaya been up to lately?” Bob asked, reaching for a bag of potato chips. “I know you and I never knew each other that well, but...you look so different. Nothing like how you were in high school,”
I think Ray knew exactly how I felt after what Bob told me. I stood there, unsure how to explain myself. What was I supposed to tell Bob and Mikey, two people that I was not as close with as I was with Ray when we were all in school together? It would especially be awkward and uncomfortable around Mikey, since I've only met the kid a few brief times. Maybe it wouldn't really matter to him, since he's so focused on his comic book? Maybe the same goes for Bob, knowing the state he's in right now…
No. That wouldn't even make it easier. I'm not safe no matter what. I gulped, feeling the hairs on my neck rise. I glanced over at Ray, lost in my own silence and anxiety. I don't wanna repeat my reason of being here and changing so much. It just hurts too much. I'm far from prepared...no, just...no…
“It’s okay, Frank,” Ray whispered. “You go on and shower...I'll explain,”
I looked back at Bob and Mikey. To my relief, they barely looked like they understood what was unfolding within me. Bob, dazed and confused, looked like he was more focused on his bag of chips than me. Mikey remained tuned out from everyone around him, his eyes still glued to his comic book. I sighed, nodding at Ray in approval.
“Okay...thanks,” I smiled a little.
“No worries, Frank. They're good people. They’ll understand. No need to wear yourself out,”
Ray redirected me to the bathroom, handing me a pile of towels and a pair of pajamas, as well as some shampoo, conditioner, and body soap.
“Get yourself cleaned up. I'll figure out where you can sleep for the night,”
“Okay…,” I set the stuff down near the sink. “Oh, and...thanks again,”
“No problem,” Ray grinned, shutting the door.
Thanks again, Ray. Thanks for saving me from losing it. Thanks for sparing me an anxiety attack. Thanks for stopping me from looking like a complete idiot.
I turn on the shower, undressing myself as I waited for the water to heat up. I step inside, letting the hot water soak my whole body. I don't think I've ever been happier to finally take a shower and be clean. As I lathered shampoo into my filthy wet hair, I began to realize something- I wasn't just taking a shower. I was washing away my old self. I was cleaning myself of my past of poverty, desolation, and near helplessness. This night I will not be sleeping in my own filth on the hard ground. I will be in a home. I will be clean. I will have a place I can call home that's not a pile of newspapers or a cardboard box. I smiled to myself, knowing that I can now kiss all those dreadful days goodbye.
“So…you’re saying he's gonna be living with us?” A concerned voice came from outside of the bathroom. It sounded like Mikey’s. Looks like Ray has told him and Bob everything…
“Well...yes,” Ray replied. “He needs a place to stay. He needs help. I just couldn't leave him like that out on the streets!”
“No, Ray. I understand that, but...don't you remember what happened last time when we took someone our wing?”
As I stood there lathering conditioner in my hair, I couldn't help but ask myself who Mikey is talking about. Could it possibly be about Gerard, the roommate Ray begged me to avoid? “Mikey…Frank is not like him. I know he isn't. He was my best friend in high school. You gotta believe me!”
“C’mon, man!” Bob chimed in. “One more roommate shouldn't hurt. He can sleep on the futon out here. I'm sure he wouldn't mind,”
“That's not the problem, Bob!” Mikey revolted. “I'm just scared...I'm scared of him getting hurt. Maybe he's not like...like him. Maybe, you're right about that, Ray. Frank sounds like a good guy. I just don't want Frank to go down there...where he is”
Now I know what Mikey is talking about. He's gotta be talking about Gerard. I'll be damned if I'm wrong. Why is Mikey so paranoid about him, though? What is so bad about Gerard that makes Mikey and Ray beg me to not be around him? In fact, why would Ray be willing to let me stay with him, Bob and Mikey, despite warning me not to even go near this guy, who also lives with them? I just can't help but see a bunch of red flags popping up in moving to this new home. I very well may just have stepped into a very bad situation, like a trap. Maybe, just maybe, accepting Ray's offer was the beginning of something awful...But I hope to God I'm wrong. Oh, I really hope to God I am wrong…
After lathering the soap off my body, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my wet, newly bathed body. I dried my hair using the towel and got dressed in the pair of pajamas Ray gave me, which consists of a plain white t shirt and gray sweatpants. It feels so good to finally be in a pair of new clean clothes after hell knows how long.
“Don't worry, Mikey,” said Ray. “I already told Frank about him. I told him to just stay away from him. I swear, I made it clear to him. Trust me,”
“Alright, Ray...because I don't wanna be the one to tell him. I really don’t,”
“I know, Mikey. Just chill out. I got this,”
“I hope you’re right, man,”
There’s no way I can leave this to rest. I have to know what Ray and Mikey are hiding from me. I have to know who Gerard is. I really hate to go against the rules, but this is what happens when you’re someone with a lot of curiosity, maybe too much. I stepped out of the bathroom and down the hall, wanting to ask Ray if he’s figured out where I’m sleeping for the night (probably the futon out in the living room, like Bob’s mentioned before). But before doing so, there’s something I really wanted to do first. There’s a certain room I wanted to peek in really quick...just for a second. That’s all. I turn in the other direction away from the living room. I pass by one bedroom that’s adorned with a combination of Bob Marley posters and photos of famous drag queens, as well as a bunk bed (this is undoubtedly both Ray/Ramona’s and Bob’s room). Next, I walk past a bedroom that’s furnished with a twin-sized bed and a plethora of posters depicting comic book-related stuff, like Batman (definitely Mikey’s room). Then, at the very end of the hall, there’s a barren wooden door, obscured by the darkness of the hallway. No windows near the door, not even any pictures hung on the wall near it. It’s just that fucking door in the damn dark at the end of the hallway, like something straight outta a third-rate horror movie. I’ve never been one to be afraid of the dark, and I’m not one to get scared easily either, but I swear right now I’m a little bit freaked out. Just add some ominous music and BOOM, you’d have the perfect scene for some horror movie, or maybe a psychological thriller.
Alright, enough horror movie talk. My curiosity is definitely getting the best of me. I step over to the door, nearly tiptoeing my way there after making sure no one else is in sight. My heart began to race faster the closer I got the the door. I swear I could also feel myself shake a little too.
“Get your shit together, Frank...it’s just a door,” I tell myself. “Just a fucking door”
I grab the doorknob and turn it, cracking the door open, which made a slight creaking noise (again, like something straight out of a horror/suspense movie). I peek inside only to find a set of stairs leading down to nothing but more darkness. So much that it may as well lead to a different dimension. How the hell can Gerard even see down there in a place so void of even a hint of light?
“Don’t even think about it,” a sudden hand grabbed my shoulder, making me jump. I look behind me, nearly dropping dead from a heart attack.
It’s Ray.
“Oh, shit...you scared me,” I laughed uneasily, caught red-handed. Oh, fuck…oh fuck…
“I know,” Ray smirked. “Got you good, didn’t I?”
“Yeah...too good,”
“Frank…” Ray sighed, “Please, for the love of God...don’t go down there. I know you’re hella curious, but...just...just please leave him alone,”
“I was just peeking,” I reply, telling the truth. I wasn’t really gonna go down there...not tonight, at least…
“Don’t even do that, Frank,” Ray crossed his arms. “Besides...the worst you can do is piss Gerard off...and he really hates it when people go down to his room unannounced,”
I don’t really think I can blame Gerard. I hate it when people barge into my room like they own it...especially without knocking.
“Alright, Ray. I’m sorry,”
“It’s alright, man...just don’t do it again, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, following Ray away from the door and down the hall to the living room.
“Anyway, we think for now we’ll have you sleep on the futon out in the living room. Is that alright?” Ray said, pointing to a fold-out futon near a coffee table. “I’m sorry it ain’t much, but...it’s all we got,”
“That’s okay. It’ll do just fine. It’s way better than a pile of newspapers,”
“That’s true,” Ray laughed. “You all good? I think we’re all gonna crash pretty soon. I gotta get up early for work, same with Mikey. So that’ll just leave you and Bob…”
And Gerard.
“Alright, Ray. I think I’m gonna go to bed, too. Goodnight, man,”
“See you in the morning,” Ray sang, leaving me with the futon.
I get myself under the covers, savoring the warmth and comfort of lying on the cheap futon. I honestly don’t care if I gotta sleep in the living room every night. It doesn’t matter to me that I don’t have a room of my own to sleep in. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: it’s better than a pile of newspapers, or a cardboard box. As I shut my eyes, I couldn’t help but keep thinking of Gerard. What could he be doing right now? Sleeping like everyone else, and soon me? Is he really as antisocial as Ray makes him out to be? If so, why? Doesn’t he ever get lonely living all by himself down there?
As I asked myself more and more questions about the man living in the basement, I felt my eyes grow heavy, and before I knew it, I was asleep...and on this night, it wasn’t in an abandoned alley behind a dumpster.

Notes