When We're Both Thirty

The Bitch

"You're dramatic alright. Dramatically foolish."

"You're so aggravating," Frank says.

"Then why don't you leave?"

"Because," Frank says, looking around like he's trying to figure out how he wants to end his sentence, "Just because okay?"

"Oh so you're using that excuse again? Because is not an answer!"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying. Because," Frank says.

"You can't just say something like that without expanding upon it. Frank, we've got a lot of history. Way too much history. Like, no one else has ever had nearly as much of a fallout after such a tiny misunderstanding, possibly ever. I mean, literally, this is some seriously messed up crap that you and I have been through and there's no way to get past that."

"You're so negative."

"Or maybe you're just too positive."

"You've literally ruined my entire life, and you're telling me that I'm being positive?"

"Your entire life? Seriously? Entire? I've been much more productive than I thought," Gerard says, "may not have a job, never done anything of any worth, but at least I managed to ruin your entire life."

"Why are you so proud of that? Why on earth is that a good thing? You must realize that an entire life is a hell of a thing to ruin," Frank says.

"Shut up," Gerard groans, rolling his eyes. "Okay, so I ruined your entire life. Don't know how I did that but congratulations to me. Why are you still here?"

"I just like to annoy you," Frank says.

"Save it, that's not why. We both know you're completely overreaching on this whole irritating me thing. If all you really wanted was to annoy me, you wouldn't need to be here, you'd just call me and hang up repeatedly, and as it is, you're not even trying. You're just sitting there staring at me. So what's up? What's actually up, why are you actually here?"

"I just am."

"That's not a fucking answer, Frank. We both know that I hate you, okay, and I don't give a shit about you. Sure, maybe you look nice, okay, but your face is the only thing you've got going for you, you're still an asshole, and we both know that I don't actually like you, but then here you are clinging to me, every time I try to get away from you it seems you're right there. Now, I can chalk some of it up to Mikey, but not this. Right now, last night, you're here because you want to be. You came to my apartment when I think I'd made it pretty clear I wasn't going to come back to yours, because you wanted to. It wasn't Mikey, and you can't blame it on him, because we both know that you didn't have to come here. Maybe you asked for my address off Mikey, or maybe he just gave it to you, but that's not the point, you didn't have to actually come here, and yet you did."

"So what's that then? Is that your proof that I'm secretly in love with you or something?"

"Possibly," Gerard shouts, confused as to how this direction came from that conversation. He was mostly just bullshitting his way to get on Frank's nerves.

"Why do you insist on being so arrogant?"

"It comes naturally when I'm talking to you. Besides, you didn't deny that you're in love with me," Gerard shrugs.

Frank just rolls his eyes, and puts his elbows against the counter, resting his head in his hands. Gerard looks over at him, and wishes he could busy himself with something else, but even wanting to ignore Frank isn't a good enough reason for him to actually clean up the kitchen a little bit. The only good reason to clean up the kitchen is if someone holds a gun to Gerard's head and tells him to clean. Even then it's still something he'd have to think about.