Art teachers are better than you think

Gerard's POV:

so frank left my room yesterday, after telling me all of what goes on at home and I somehow convinced him it was right to nark on his dad. For real though the bastard deserved it. How does someone like that get away with beating the people he is supposed to love and protect forever? Damn if I ever even raised a hand to the person I loved then I would hand myself straight in because that's so fucking wrong on so many levels. You just don't do that shit. I can't believe I never noticed it before though. Frank and his mother have been moved into a hostel for the night while franks dad was at the station. He got arrested. Anything else I don't know about. I'm hoping frank will inform me tomorrow. So as I'm sure that h can gather I haven't slept in about 2 days. All that happened on Friday. It's now Sunday and I haven't slept. Coffee has been my friend but now I'm sure that's leaving me to die. It's about 3.27am lady I checked. All I want is to know that frank and his mum are okay. It's killing me. I can wait until Monday to find out though. I hope.

time goes on and I'm just sat there in my bed reading some shit online and my door knocks. So naturally the first thing i do is check the time "4:27? Who on earth is knocking my door at 4;27 in the fucking morning?" I mutter to myself as I pull on some pajama bottoms and a t-shirt that looks vaguely clean. I tried my way out the bedroom, through the landing and down the stairs. As I reach the bottom of the stairs I can see a short outline behind my front door because of the street lights, so I take my time going to the door and to open it. It's raining. It hasn't stopped since yesterday afternoon. I unlock my door and open it a crack to see who it is,
"Frank?" Like what the fuck how did he find out where I live? This must be a dream. If not I'm seriously confused right fucking now.
"Hi sir," he's shivering and looks like shit. His voice quivers over the small words he spoke,
"come on in, it's bit warmer in here" apparent empathy is laci g my voice as I stand back and to the side to open my front door more to allow this small human in to my home. I don't say anything but shut and lock my door and begin making my way through my house to the kitchen where I instantly put the kettle on.
"So what's going on? Is everything okay?" I ask him these questions because I'm incredibly worried about him, as the questions are flowing I begin to make coffee for us. I'm assuming he drinks it like me. Black, 2 sugars.
"Well yes and no. Dad got 10years. Good thing. Mum found out I'm gay and threw me out of the hostel and our home"
well shit.

Notes

Hey sorry it's short but I had an idea and I'm intending on dragging this part out for a while, don't worry though freezes is going to happen soon.

Anywaaaaay as this has ended on coffee, how do you take yours? Mine is as it says, black. 2sugars.

Love
soph
xoxoxo