The Sharpest Lives

Frank awoke to the blaring alarm he had set for himself the night before, knowing if he didn’t set at least three, he would sleep well past 7AM. He woke up at 7:21AM after hitting snooze multiple times, and considered it a success. He wouldn’t have time to shower, but at least he hadn’t slept through his shift at the record store. He sat up in bed and rubbed at his eyes. He knew today was going to be a long day, but he was excited to see Gerard again. He slipped on a pair of old blue jeans. They had tears in the knees, in the pockets, and especially around the feet. Being 5’7, most pairs of pants were too long on him. He grabbed whatever shirt was on top in his dresser drawer and pulled it on. It was a Melvin’s shirt – an old one, from High School. That had to be the only benefit of not growing since he was at 16, his vintage clothes still fit him. His socks and sneakers followed, and he pocketed his phone and wallet.
Frank walked wearily towards the bathroom and opened the cabinet. He pulled out his toothpaste and toothbrush and hairbrush. He hurriedly ran the brush through his hair, and then ran his fingers through his bangs, pushing them to the side and out of his face. He grazed his fingers over the scorpion tattoo on his neck. It’s a good thing Frank never wanted a “real” job. He shrugged beside himself, and continued to brush his teeth. He stood there, looking at his tired eyes in the mirror. What did Gerard see in him? They seemed to have a lot in common, but Frank didn’t think he was some great catch. He glanced at his phone, checking the time – 7:47AM.

“Shit.”
Frank spit out his toothpaste and rinsed out his mouth with the tap, cocking his head to the side and bending under the faucet. He barely had enough time to remember to grab his headphones and backpack as he ran out the door of his apartment, grabbing his coat off the rack on his way out. He was surprised when he saw Jamia’s car out front of the building. Frank walked up to the passenger door and made a puzzled look in her direction, she rolled down the window nearest him.
“Get in, I told you I wanted details. It’s a good thing you didn’t go home with Gerard last night or I would have been sitting here a lot longer than I already was.” She smiled at him. Jamia knew Frank better than anyone else, and he never had been one for one night stands.
Frank rolled his eyes and opened the door as she shoved a cup of coffee in his hands.
“Oh my god, you’re like a guardian angel.” Frank mewled as he took the cup, savoring the warmth and sipping it slowly. She knew just how he liked it, soy milk and one sugar.
“I’ve been here for 20 minutes, Frank, you’re late you know.” Jamia was interrogating him for answers.
“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled back at her as she pulled out of the parking lot.
“I’m going to be late for work now, too.” She shot a disappointed glance over to Frank who didn’t buy her fake anger at all.
“Please, you work practically next door. And if you were worried about being late, you would have left and went without me.” Frank knew he was stalling, but he would have to give her the run-down of his night eventually.
“Anyway, what happened after you left last night? He didn’t come home with you, did he?” She was teasing him, of course, but she had seen the way Frank looked at Gerard. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Frank had gone home with him, even if it was something he’d only done once before.
“We went to the diner, like I said. We just talked for a while. It was really nice to meet someone who has a lot of the same interests I do.” He beamed while looking out the window, hoping Jamia wouldn’t see the face he was making. He couldn’t hold himself back from smiling.
“Uh-huh. And we don’t have a lot in common?” Jamia apparently hadn’t teased him enough for one morning yet.
“You know what I mean.” Frank looked over at her that time, pursing his lips in a frown. Jamia just stuck her tongue out at him.
“So are you going to see him again?” Of course she would ask that.
“Yeah, I think. He said he would come to my show tonight. I told him to find me after our set.” Frank blushed again, wondering what it would be like to see him again tonight, when they were both sober. At least at first…
“Do you want me to come? I can cancel my plans with Sarah. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable alone…” Jamia was always protective of Frank, even when she didn’t need to be. He could handle himself, especially with someone who seemed as benign as Gerard.
“No, no, don’t be silly. I feel comfortable with Gerard. I know that I’ve just met him, but he’s…sweet.” Frank looked down at the cup of coffee in his hands, trying to hide his face from being any more evident than it was. He was obviously in lust with the guy.
“You kissed him, didn’t you?” Jamia squealed as she pulled up in front of the record store.
“What? Who, me? I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Frank jumbled his words together, getting back at Jamia for teasing him. “Kissed who?” He winked at her as he opened his door and slipped out.
Jamia rolled down her window and opened her mouth to say something when Frank started to walk away, laughing.
“Oh, come on!” He could hear her yell to him as he walked up to the front door of the store. Frank just shrugged at her and fumbled for the keys in his pocket.
“Thanks for the ride!” He yelled to her, unlocking the store and turning on the light. Jamia raised her middle finger to him and drove away.
Frank walked inside the store and flipped on the light. He inhaled the smell of old record sleeves and closed his eyes, relishing the smell. It was similar to the smell you were greeted with when entering a used book store or a library. It smelled like nostalgia and wistfulness. He had been working in the store since he moved to New York when he was 22.

Frank’s mom wasn’t pleased when he told her he planned to move two hours away from her. His whole life, it was just her and her son. His dad walked out when he was an infant, and even though he had tried to get back in contact with him around the time he was 14, Frank wanted nothing to do with him. His mom had done a great job providing for them, and he didn’t need a father in his life. When his mother first found out he was gay at age 16, they both sat in the living room crying, holding each other. Three boys at school had cornered him in the bathroom and punched him in the face until his nose was broken. While he was lying on the tile floor, crying, they wrote “faggot” on his forehead in permanent marker. He had no choice but to tell his mother the truth when he walked in the door, bloody and deplorable. His mother admitted to him that she wished he had a father figure in his life to help him through this, and he could see the pain in her face as she spoke. Frank was scared, he had grown up in Catholic school where he was taught that any thoughts of homosexuality were an abomination. His mom disagreed, and promised him that no matter what she would always love him. In the back of her mind, she was scared, too. She knew that kids were cruel. She worried about Frank every day for weeks when he left for school, watching him through the window until she could no longer see him around the corner. But time went on, and things got easier. By the time Frank was a senior, he knew how to handle himself. There were kids at school who still teased him and called him names, but they didn’t bother to try and put their hands on him anymore; the last time someone made that mistake, Frank knocked his teeth out.

On the day of his High School graduation, he sat in his car and cried. He cried because he was happy, he cried because he was sad, he cried because he had made it and because his mom had sacrificed so much for him to get to this point. He knew he wouldn’t be going to college, they just couldn’t afford it, but he had accomplished so much without the need of a father. But after a few years, Frank felt stuck. He had been working in the same tiny, family owned music store since he was 17 and he realized that he didn’t have a future in New Jersey. He recognized what he really wanted, and that was to be in a band. In the middle of scenic nowhere, which featured nothing but catholic school children and old ladies, Frank would never accomplish that here. The last time Frank cried was the day he left for New York City, two days before his 22nd Birthday.
Every time Frank walked into the record store, he was reminded of his mother. She had bought him any album he asked for when he was a kid, no matter how broke they were. He was flooded with the memories of his childhood every morning when he breathed in the familiar scent. It almost made him want to go home. Almost.
Frank walked behind the counter and set his bag down. He pulled up a folding chair and sat down behind the glass. It was a Saturday, sure, but even at peak periods the store would see maybe three customers at a time. He leaned back in his chair, lifting the front legs up, and balancing on the back. He put his earphones in and prepared himself for a long day.

Gerard woke up around noon to his phone ringing, pleasantly surprised that he didn’t have a headache, likely because he ate before going home and passing out. He can thank Frank for that. As soon as the thought of Frank popped in his head, Gerard felt giddy again. He rolled over in bed and pressed his head into the pillow; it was too early to feel this bubbly inside. He ignored the call and dozed back off to sleep. When he opened his eyes again, it was nearing 2PM. Gerard hadn’t stayed in bed this long for months; it felt nice to allow his body to rest. Gerard was always so tense and restless; he rarely was able to sleep through the entire night. Most night’s he would toss and turn, staring out the window waiting for the sun to rise. Last night he only woke up once, and after sitting up and reading for 20 minutes around 6AM, he was able to fall back to sleep fairly easily.
He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to will his body to move when he heard the buzz of the intercom to his apartment. He groaned and swung his feet over the bed after a minute or two, lazily standing up and walking out of his bedroom. The intercom buzzed again and Gerard knew that only one person would be this impatient with him.
“Just a minute, Lynz, Jesus Christ.” He mumbled to himself.
Gerard unlocked the dead bolt and pulled the door open. In front of him stood a very irritated Lindsey, eyebrow cocked and forehead wrinkled.
“What, you don’t answer my calls anymore?” She asked, pushing past him and making her way into the apartment. Gerard rubbed at his eyes and shut the door behind her. “Nice shirt, by the way.”
Gerard looked down at his shirt. It was one he got as a gag gift at Christmas last year. It had pictures of Nicholas Cage all over it; he only used it to sleep in. Though, he did find it kind of funny. He got home so late last night that he didn’t even turn on the light when pulling out a shirt to sleep in.
“I was sleeping.” He declared.
“Where’s Frank?”
“What?” Gerard looked at her quizzically. Lindsey was peering into the kitchen, and then into the bathroom.
“You mean he didn’t come home with you?” She seemed surprised, but smiled nonetheless. “I’m proud of you, Gee. Good thing, too. I think he would have run as soon as he saw that shirt.” She pecked him on the cheek and sat down on the couch, smiling up at him.
“We just talked. I got home around 3:30” Gerard blushed, thinking about the kind-of date he had with Frank the night before.
“Didn’t Frank say he had to be up really early? He must really like you.”
Gerard didn’t respond, he just took a seat next to Lindsey’s left on the couch, still too tired to have any type of deep conversation about his love life.
“Fuck, Gerard.” Lindsey barked when he sat down. She grabbed his left hand and pulled his arm towards her. He was in a t-shirt and his arm was on full display for her to realize.
Gerard tried to pull his arm away from her, but she gripped his hand harder.
“I thought we talked about this. You’re supposed to call me when you feel like you might need to hurt yourself. Any time, day or night. You’re going to get an infection if you’re not careful.” She ran her fingers over the cuts on Gerard’s arm gently. There were at least seven of them; four of them were at least a week or older, two of them were scabbed over and had been done within the past few days, and one was fresh. Lindsey could tell by the swollen area around the mark, and the bright red line that had not yet began to heal itself that it was done within the last 24 hours.
“I know. It’s not really a big deal. I’m always careful about it.” Gerard looked away from Lindsey’s face, humiliated and still tired.
“It is a big deal, Gerard!” Her voice was raised, but he could hear the compassion through her words.
“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Lindsey. I had a good night last night and I’m barely awake, just drop it.” He was annoyed now, knowing that it was hard to get Lindsey to drop anything. Instead of trying to convince her, he just pulled his arm away and stood up from the couch. He made his way towards the kitchen, pulling fresh coffee grounds out of the cabinet and preparing the coffee maker. He flipped the switch to “on” and leaned back against the counter, slamming the canister down. Lindsey made her way into the kitchen a few minutes after him, allowing him to cool down.
“Ok…so tell me about Frank.” She said finally, letting go of her uneasiness and dropping the matter.

When 5PM rolled around, Frank couldn’t get out the door any faster. He quickly said hello to Bob, his shift replacement, and lunged at the door, coat and bag under his arm.
Jamia was outside waiting for him, just like she was this morning, sitting in her car with the radio blaring some techno shit.
“Hey.” Frank said as he opened the door. “I didn’t expect you to be here when I finished, too.” He grabbed the dial to the volume “Turn this shit down.”
“I wouldn’t leave you without a car, it’s too cold out. Speaking of, put your jacket on before you catch pneumonia.” She scolded him.
“Thanks, mom.” Frank rolled his eyes and threw his coat around his shoulders and sat down in the passenger seat.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come to your show tonight?” She asked, pulling away from the curb.
“Yes. I’m a big boy; I can take care of myself.” Frank was more awake than he was this morning, and he had no problem throwing sarcastic remarks back to Jamia.
“Alrighty then.” She shrugged at him. “Any idea what you’re going to wear?”
“Uh…the same thing I usually wear to a show? T-shirt? Jeans?”
“But you’re not usually trying to impress hot guys at your shows, either.” Jamia laughed at his naivety.
“That’s because there never are any hot guys at our shows.” He said in earnest. There were never any hot gay guys, anyway.
“Whatever, Frank.” She winked over at him as she pulled up to his building.
“You realize I could have just walked home, right? It’s like a mile…” He said, opening the door to the car to get out.
“Too icy. Your luck, you’ll fall and break something and won’t get to go on your date with Gerard tonight.”
“It’s not a date!” He professed, shutting the door to the car behind him. Jamia rolled down the window as he turned around.
“Have fun! Make good choices!” She giggled and backed out of the parking spot.
Frank laughed to himself as he walked up the steps to the building
“What the hell am I going to wear…?” He thought out loud.

Notes

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P.S Anyone see any theme in the Chapter titles?