Demolition Lovers (Frerard)

5: This Is What The 'It's Complicated' Facebook Relationship Status Was Made For

Although he hated to admit it, Frank found leaving Gerard alone far too hard, and really, he found himself missing the artist and his fucking pretentious asshole personality. He wasn't going to admit that he actually cared about Gerard though - that would just be irrational, and although rationality wasn't exactly Frank's strong point, he had some degree of common sense. After all, he lived in this shithole and with the way he made money, he had to have common sense, or he'd be long dead by now.

Gerard was fucking that all up though; Gerard was destroying every little rule Frank had made here and the twenty four year old did not fucking like it - not one bit. Frank needed solitude and only company from the people who could offer him something in return, and he needed to keep fucking and his job separate from his life, and he really didn't need anybody to come and tell him that what he was doing was morally wrong.

Frank was practically a spitting image of morally wrong, and he was damn aware of it.

He just couldn't quite figure out what Gerard's deal was though: he didn’t want to fuck, he didn't want money, he didn't want drugs, he didn't want to start fights with Frank, and really Frank knew nothing other than that, and simply refused believe his head every time it piped up about Gerard actually being a good person.

There was no such fucking thing as good people.

It certainly hadn't taken Frank long to figure that out.

None of that mattered at all though anymore because Frank needed his next fix: he needed drugs, he needed pills and he needed them in their hundreds, and really there the free drugs from clients almost made being everyone's whore worthwhile.

Being a whore wasn't what Frank intended to do with his life, of course, when at school they came and asked you what you wanted to be, Frank didn't smile at his teacher and tell her that he wanted to be a whore - actually, he'd said he wanted to be a policeman, when he was six that was, and still that thought made him chuckle every time he thought about it.

He'd be a shitty policeman - he'd be shit at really anything else, the only thing Frank Iero ever seemed to at all excel at in this world was getting assfucked day in and day out, and it was enough, and it didn't faze him, he told himself, as long as the bills got paid and he still had a home and sometimes some pills, nothing fazed him.

But really, Frank had found himself far too acquainted with the art of fabrication and general untruth lately. Again, not that he'd ever admit that to anyone; Frank was far too good at lying and terrible at admitting anything.

It was quite the combination, and really, it left him in nothing but a downwards spiral to his eventual demise, but Frank could certainly put off thinking about that, especially when he knew that inside this cafe was a guy waiting with his pills.

The client who owed him this time was some sort big business corporate fucker - basically the epitome of what Frank hated in this world, and of course to keep this little 'private life' of his well private, he'd sent some guy that he'd blackmailed into keeping this secret, and really, that both terrified and enthralled Frank, because this guy could be anyone, and Frank was far too good at convincing anyone to get into bed with him, for a small fee.

This guy was probably a business asshole too - he had to have money as well. After all, the client who sent him was perhaps Frank's best source income and therefore Frank put up with his messed up life of fucking some shitty whore for far too much money while his wife and kids at home remained oblivious.

Frank got a lot of older men and not once did he ever think about the wives and kids at home, oblivious to it all, and like that, he was starting to feel sick already, so with that, he distracted himself enough from the certain degree of anxiety surrounding the situation and made his way inside, spotting the guy sat in the booth that his client had told him he'd be and made his way over.