As Snow Falls on Desert Sky

Gerard sat at the end of the bar, swirling around the ice he had in his glass as he stared at the chipping wood under his hands. This bar had been here for years and you could really tell it was beginning to fall down the drain. The owner's weren't getting as many customers so they didn't have the money to replace the old ripped vinyl stools or even the flickering light bulb above Gerard's head. Of course, that could always just be his mind playing with him, like it had been lately. He lifted a hand slowly, his fifth drink (that only being from the bar, not mentioning his pre-game warm up from home) really hitting him as he rubbed his eyes, sort of basking and then again hating the fact that the bartender was new and didn't keep track of the drinks she was giving out. Gerard slowly pulled his hand from his eyes to his chin, looking at the bottles of liquor, tilting his head to try and read them in the dim light. After what was probably 10 minutes he gave up and dropped his eyes to his knees, some of his skin showing through the torn fabric of his jeans.

He pulled at a couple of the stray threads as someone sat beside him. He sighed melodramatically, not really in the mood for conversation. The person just ignored him and ordered their drink, staying quiet otherwise as Gerard eyed him up and down. They were presumably male, and they were really tall. Gerard almost asked (if they were a man) because of their hair (which wasn't feminine but pretty big) but caught his tongue as the first syllable of 'are' began to escape his mouth - causing a odd and unpleasant sound, accompanied by some flying spit. The person turned and Gerard just stared at them blankly, not registering anything on their face. Gerard looked to the bar again and downed the last of his drink before pushing out of his chair and stumbling into an upright position. He noticed the band wasn't playing any longer and he shook his head at himself, knowing for sure that it was late and he'd be even later for work tomorrow if he didn't get home now. He stumbled towards the door quickly as the man from the bar followed him without Gerard noticing. Gerard managed to scramble to his apartment, happy for once that it was on the first floor and across the street from the bar. He pushed his way into his home and yawned to himself, still not realizing he slammed the door into the face of the stranger that had been calling his name for a while. He locked the door and slowly slipped his shoes and jacket off before lazily collapsing against the couch.

The next morning Gerard's ears were met with a sharp ringing that wasn't even his alarm. He just laid there, staring into the couch as he held his hand to keep himself from throwing up. It was a weird habit but when he felt sick, it usually worked to calm him down and keep his heartbeat steady enough that he could get to a bathroom. And that's what he did - he crawled and stumbled to the bathroom, still clasping his hands together before he let go, opening the toilet seat before his stomach emptied itself into the once pristine, white bowl.

Once he stopped, a few dry heaves finishing off as a reminder of last night, he fell back to the ground, falling asleep again. He was in an awkward position, his hand still up, clutching the toilet while he laid on the ground, more or less, his head sitting up against the counter of his sink. He stayed passed out, even his legs that would usually move around staying still as he almost slept through his alarm. He woke up 30 minutes after it began to go off, when the vibrations from the alarm clock that had made its way into his bathroom got to be too much and it slid off the counter and onto Gerard's fucking head, waking him up with a horrible jolt to the forehead. He sat up quickly, his back stiffening and neck aching as he sighed and rubbed at his face. He didn't need to shave often, but judging by the rough patches of stubble coming in, it was time to pull out the shaving cream and razor. He stood slowly and looked in the mirror before pushing it in, the pane of glass popping out to show the cabinet behind it. He rummaged through it for a while, pulling out some ibuprofen and his shaving supplies before popping it back closed and turning the hot water on. He soaked his toothbrush for a while, getting lost in the sound of the water before he put some toothpaste on and brushed his teeth quickly. He spit and rinsed before dropping his toothbrush in the toilet on accident. He sighed and hit the counter in frustration before soaking his face and forgetting about it, shaving fast enough to not be late but slow enough to not get razor burn. He then dried off, peed on his now ex-toothbrush and walked to his room to change, ignoring the mess.

Poor toothbrush, they had such shit times together.

He hand sanitizes, since he forgot to wash his hands, as he gets undressed, pulling on his 'work-attire' (which was really just some nice skinny jeans and a button down shirt) before heading on his way, not even remembering to look at his hair. He practically stomped down the street, not giving a shit who looked at him. And then he suddenly cared about who was sending him glares and cautious looks, so he lightened his steps and made sure to look at the ground as he sped up. There was only a few hundred feet to the book shop he worked in but he did his best not to fucking sprint there in a panic. Once there, he walked in slower and looked around the shop for his boss, nodding to them as they looked up, their hand on the door to their office room. He then flipped the sign to 'open' and grabbed the new box of books to begin his day.

He meant to stock up the new books, but instead he just walked around for a while, rereading the titles on the shelves before actually restocking them. After the mandatory thirty minutes of work, he slipped behind the cash register, pulled on his stupid "book-apron" and sat on his stool. His boss, of course, kept Gerard as the only employee around, but they were pretty easy on the hours, the store not getting enough business to be open 24/7. Gerard sighed and pulled over his small jar of pencils he had decorated. Yeah, he decorated a jar. He got bored and decided to 'DIY' up the place, since he was pretty arty and the good ol' boss didn't have decorations in the budget. So he grabbed some old half pint jars from the back, hot glued cute ribbons and labels on them, and filled them with their according supplies. Even his boss, who often found themself cringing at the romantic 'chick reads' that came in, loved the stuff - so Gerard got to keep it out. But he hadn't sharpened the pencils in a while, so he pulled the sharpener out and slowly sharpened each and every pencil from his jar.

After an hour, a hundred pencils and a new blister, Gerard finished sharpening in time for a customer to come through the door. Gerard smiled politely but didn't fully look up as he searched under his desk for his paper, the customer walking around with their seemingly heavy boots. Gerard found his long piece of yellowing receipt paper that he had been drawing on since he got there. He smiled to himself more, sketching down what he had drawn from yesterday as he ignored the pounding in his ears and eyes.

"Uhm, hello?" Gerard snaps his head up, his heart almost jumping out of his mouth as the customer that he forgot walked in a while ago spoke up.

Gerard cleared his throat, keeping his head down as he mumbled a sorry, only briefly looking over the patron's finger nails that were painted black but obviously on a man's hand. They were tattooed and Gerard summed up that his knuckles spelled some shit (well, not 'some shit', other words) that he couldn't exactly read due to how fucking fast the guy pulled his hands away.

Of course, Gerard had to look up and make the most awkward eye contact in human history. It probably would have killed him if you could die from awkward. The guy just looked - well he looked small, sad, and guarded. His eyes went, well, sort of blank before he turned his head away and Gerard did the same, quickly checking him out. Checking out as in checking out the local CD's he was purchasing. The guy handed him his money, his hands quick.

"Oh - uh - I'm sorry, are you nervous?" Gerard asks quickly, taking the money slower than the words came out of his mouth while he put it in the register and printed his receipt - all that jazz.

"I'm not." He said with a small smile. Gerard looks at him, the punk guy just staring back with a stupid grin as Gerard bags his CD's.

"So, why did you tattoo your hands and paint your nails?" Gerard blurts out out of butt-fuck nowhere, literally snapping his mouth shut and pulling back into himself as he handed the guy the bag.

But, instead of running away in terror like Gerard expected, he just smiled softly, grabbed the bag and walked out. Gerard waited for him to leave, swearing he did not steal a glance at his ass, before letting out a relieved sigh. That guy was too weird. Gave him exact change - because he knew how much he'd have to pay. What if he was a fucking crazy killer? This certainly can't be good.

Gerard pondered this for a few more hours, customers coming in and out but never catching his attention like tattoo-guy did. It was like he was just mystical - no, no, Gerard may be gay but he's not going to get that gay over someone he just met. Well, someone he saw once and will never see again. Hopefully. If he sees him again, hopefully it won't be behind Gerard swinging his protective knife. Gerard chews his lip before his boss walks out, looking over Gerard's expression.

"You okay?" They hum and Gerard nods, looking back with a weak smile that they quickly return.

"Yeah, I'm okay, just tired."

"And hungover." They note, poking his bags as they hand him a box. Gerard sighs and nods before looking at the box.

"What's this?" He asks quietly, knowing if it was anything too big he'd just give it back.

"An actual phone. It's my old one - no one would buy it, you'll have to pay for your plan though. It's got unlimited calls and texts for 10 dollars." They hum, grinning proudly at Gerard as he blushed and smiled, opening it.

"Oh, oh shit, uh.." Gerard paused for a second before leaning over the counter to hug them as they chuckled, hugging him back gently.

"I needed it so I could call you." They try to brush off and Gerard grins, nodding.

Gerard smiles and nods, kissing their cheeks at they kiss his. "Well, still, thanks, Alex."

They shrug and nod, pushing him out the door. "Go back to your apartment and work off that hangover, home-body."

Gerard sighs and nods, turning around sharply so he could make his was back to his small and grimy apartment. He promised himself somewhere today that he'd clean up that bathroom but he knows he's not going to. He walks home much slower than usual, his new phone in his hands. He put all the numbers he had memorized into it - his mom's, his brother's, and his grandmother's. He didn't exactly need anyone else in his life, not that people were jumping at every opportunity to be his 'best-friend-forever' or anything. Gerard texted his mother and brother, explaining he got a new phone before sliding his phone back into his pocket, remembering to call his grandmother later as his apartment building came into view.

Home sweet shit.

There was someone that was probably going to mug him sitting on the steps, black hood pulled over their head and hands in their hoodie's pocket. God, he was not ready to die. I mean, of course he wanted to from time to time but that was on his own account, he didn't want to die by being shot in the head over the two dollars and sixty seven cents he had in his back pocket. He sped up, swallowing as he looked at the person he was walking past. They didn't look up, they just stared at the ground and Gerard held in his breath as he practically ran into his building. Jesus, he hated people like that. Can't they be sketchy elsewhere? There's plenty of dark alleys in Jersey, they didn't need to kill Gerard in front of his home.

Well, in their defense, they were probably just the new tenant across from Gerard and he was being an idiot. He often did that, over-thought nearly everything he could until his brain was close to bursting. His paranoia was not something he liked but something he guessed came in handy. I mean, what if that person was gonna try and rob him? He totally could have pulled those cool fucking Jedi tricks he learned from religiously watching Star Wars and pulled their knife back on them.

Now, Trance-Gerard is usually a pretty cool guy, bringing Gerard cool little images of him ruling the world or having 'fun' with David Bowie from Labyrinth but today he decided to be a complete asshole and have Gerard stand in the middle of the hall as his Star War's vision ensued. So Gerard was standing there, in full Trance-Gerard mode as the guy that was sitting on the steps outside yelled at the back of his head. Now, Trance-Gerard isn't usually such an arse but maybe today he just decided to take a hold of Gerard and smash Imaginary-Gerard's face in the wall of embarrassment multiple times. But whatever.

"Hey, man." The guy says, patting Gerard's shoulder, finally pulling him from Trance-Gerard's evil grasp. Gerard spins around quickly, wide eyed as he looks the guy over. "Can you, uh, move?"

It was the guy from the shop today - he thinks. Gerard just blinks and steps out of his way, looking to his hands to see his finger nails were still painted. Hah, so it was. Local punk customer from the shop is his new neighbour and Gerard had already made a fool of himself in front of him.

Twice.

Gerard was still in the hallway, staring at where the guy was as he walked back out from his new apartment. He looked over Gerard worriedly and walked over, snapping in front of his face. "You okay, buddy?"

Gerard blinks and looks at him. Shit, Cute Local Punk customer-neighbour. What did Gerard do to deserve this? "Y-Yeah.. Just, bad hangover.."

He nods slowly, looking at him closer. "Do I know you?" He asked. Gerard looks him over again. Okay, play cool or act like a fool? He'll probably end up choosing the latter.

"Uhm, you look familiar?" Gerard said quietly, averting his eyes to the lady walking down the hall.

"Mom, it's right there." The guy nodded, pointing to his apartment before looking to Gerard. "Hey, you work at that - uh - that bookstore."

Gerard blushed and shrugged, crossing his arms as he nodded. The guy grinned proudly and it was too damn nice for Gerard to not smile back.

"Well, sweet. Now we're neighbours, maybe you can show me where you got that hangover." He grinned as Gerard nodded, looking at the small guy. Was he serious? Gerard looked and smelt like shit and this guy wanted to hang out with him. Odd.

"Yeah, I know a place or something." Gerard mumbled before rushing to his apartment, the back of his neck and his cheeks burning. God, too much socializing with attractive people really push his body heat to the limit. That was fine. Maybe the guy didn't even want to talk to him anymore, he did just run away from him. Gerard sighed and shrugged his jacket off, walking to the bathroom to clean it.

Notes

Okay, so I've been writing this one for a while and I'm finally ready to show the world - of course it's not the best, but it's okay.

Thank you for checking it out, please leave your feedback - rate it and comment!

xoxo anonymous