When We're Both Thirty

Blind Date

"We just do," Gerard shrugs, "We've known each other since we were babies, and then Frank turned into an asshole and we've hated each other ever since."

"What did he do?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, it's been like, how many years since you were kids?"

"Many," Gerard answers.

"I think you can let it go."

"I can never let it go! Frank was such a bitch. He literally ruined my little seven year old life, and I haven't forgiven him for it. Besides, he just got worse with time. Frank's like milk. He gets all the more sour the more time that passes. Someday, Frank is going to be fifty, if he isn't murdered before then I mean, and he is going to literally turn into a giant pile of rotting food."

"And who do you think is going to murder him?" Brendon asks.

"Anyone who knows him the way I do," Gerard answers.

"Well you must know a completely different person to the one I do."

"Yeah?" Gerard asks skeptically, "how on earth could anyone that awful have two personalities. Isn't that, like, mentally unhealthy? I don't care, I just know that he's a fuckhead."

"You two have colorful names for each other."

"Oh yeah, Frank calls me a shitdick. I call him a nimrod, asshat, pissface, micro penis, scumbag, and piece of shit," Gerard says matter-of-factly.

"I would love to see you two get into a debate or something," Brendon grins. "You never told me why I'm here though. If Frank hates you, why on earth would he want us to meet?"

"What? Oh, our moms think we should get married," Gerard says, "See, Frank and I, we figured ourselves out pretty early on, even though I think a lot of people thought we were just two kids who were goofing around. Anyway, like, I knew I was gay as fuck when I was really young, after Frank and I's friendship had disbanded, but still pretty quickly. Before then though, we'd sort of been joking around, said we'd marry each other if we hadn't gotten married by the time we were thirty, and now, well, Frank's thirtieth birthday is in 31 days."

"They actually expect you to get married to each other?" Brendon asks, aghast, "I've never seen Frank so passionate about anything in all my years of knowing him. He really hates you."

"He's passionate about hating me?" Gerard asks, "Cool. Well, they don't expect us to get married technically if we don't want to, but they're both at the end of their ropes with how much we've disappointed them. I'm a failure, so is Frank, and now they want us to have little adopted babies together or some shit, because neither of us has found anyone else yet."

"Yeesh," Brendon says, "must suck to have your parents on your back like that."

"It does. So, you're Frank's friend then. Would you happen to know what it is that he did that pissed his mom off so much? What makes him a disappointment? Is he a stripper?"

Brendon snorts at the last question and replies, "what does that have to do with anything? Why would you think Frank's a stripper?"

"That's my working theory as to why he's a disappointment. I believe Frank is a gay stripper. Or a porn star," Gerard states.

"He is neither, I can say that with some amount of certainty."

"Dammit," Gerard says, looking frustrated. "So what is it? What'd he do?"

"It's not important," Brendon brushes off.

"Yes it is."

"Uh, well, if Frank didn't tell you, I probably shouldn't either."

"Ugh, fuck. Fine. Whatever, be loyal or whatever. He's still an asshole," Gerard says. "So is his band any good?"

"His band? Yeah, uh, they are actually. Or at least, I think so. He's really wild up on a stage, it's quite impressive."

"I wish you'd said they suck," Gerard says, shaking his head and frowning.

Gerard realizes about thirty minutes into the date that he hasn't stopped talking about Frank for one second. He's a talkative guy as it is, he usually just blabs on and on until someone tells him to stop, but he's never just talked about one subject for this long. Least of all, not Frank of all subjects. He just can't stop though.

The minute Gerard realizes he's still talking about Frank is when he's telling a story about sophomore year when he and Frank were lab partners in science, and Gerard set fire to his Math notebook. It was actually an accident, Gerard shouldn't be allowed anywhere near chemicals or heat creating sources. Frank had blamed him for his C in math that trimester though, and things just got worse. He accused Gerard of doing it on purpose, and it's been nearly fifteen years since that incident occurred, but Gerard really wishes it had been on purpose.

"I cannot believe all I've talked about is Frank," Gerard says, "I don't even know what you do and I'm totally justifying the way Frank calls me a dick right now, aren't I?"

"Uh, I mean, its fine. I don't care. You're not a dick, necessarily, but I've never been so astounded by anyone's hate for anyone else ever in my entire life," Brendon admits.

"Well, he's just, I don't know. He pushes my buttons, and it's annoying, because he knows where every goddamn one of my buttons is. He's such a... god, there's just no word strong enough for what he is. I just really hate that son of a bitch."

"I can see that," Brendon nods.

So Gerard tells himself to commit to this date thing and actually talk to Brendon and get to know who he is. He tells himself, and he really does try. About five minutes later though, he's talking about Frank. Well, he's complainingabout Frank. He just can't help it though. Everything Brendon tries to say brings up a memory of Frank and it's really starting to annoy even Gerard how incapable he is of talking about something interesting.

"So, uh, this has been great and all-"

"But..." Gerard says for him.

"Well, I mean, I just don't think-"

"Yep, I got it. No need to sugarcoat it. You don't like me, and that's fine."

"Sorry?" Brendon offers.

"Nah, it's okay. Just promise not to tell Frank how badly this went and I'll pay for your drinks, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Brendon nods. Then ensues five minutes of them awkwardly trying to figure out how to walk away from each other without being rude, or without doing something stupid. Eventually, Brendon gets sick of the back and forth and he just leaves. Gerard doesn't mind. He really didn't like Brendon all that much to begin with. He's an okay dude, just not a guy who he'd ever care to know romantically.

"Well that was a royal bust," Gerard sighs to himself as he looks loathingly down at the bill he now has to pay with his absolutely no money.