The Chasing of Moons

Gizmo vs. Stitch

Pete's very bad at trying to change the topic of conversation, that much has been established already, but he's really making sure that everyone knows it for sure. "Anyone doing anything this weekend?"

"I'm playing the Sims for twelve straight hours and regretting my life choices," Brendon says.

"Dandy," Gerard nods, looking at him oddly.

"What are you doing then?" Frank asks, hoping for something he can maybe use.

"I wouldn't tell you," Gerard says.

"Wouldn't?"

"What?"

"Well you said 'wouldn't,'" Frank replies, "which implies that you're not doing anything, because you wouldn't be saying 'wouldn't' if you were doing something because it sort of entails that you're not doing anything, hence 'I wouldn't tell you' and it's easy to figure out that what that extends to mean is that 'I wouldn't tell you, if I weredoing something.' So, you're not doing something."

"Okay, by a show of hands, who here is completely lost," Pete says, raising his own arm. Mikey looks at him like he's the only small teddy bear left in the store, which is to say that Frank needs a barf bag.

"Okay my point is that Gerard's not doing anything this weekend, and you know who else isn't doing anything? Me," Frank says.

"Uh, that's great. I don't see any reason for why those two statements need to be stated together, but if you say so," Gerard says, looking down at the grass below him like it's all he cares about.

"You know Gerard, you don't have to do nothing, you could hang out with Frank," Mikey suggests, as casually as he can.

"The only hanging out with Frank I would like to do is if he was hanging upside down from a tree branch over a cliff."

"I take it back, that's the weirdest threat I've ever heard," Pete says.

"You don't have to be such a dick, Gerard," Mikey sighs.

"Actually I do, I'm contractually obligated to be a dick to anyone really. I'm just an awful awful person who no one in their right mind would ever want to interact with ever, so if I were someone, say someone who was trying to get on my good side, I would give it up now so that I wouldn't have to deal with how much of a bitch I am."

"I like a challenge," Frank says.

"I'm not your Everest, you don't want to try to get to me," Gerard says, "I don't see why you can't give up the ghost now."

"That's a dumb expression, isn't it? 'Give up the ghost'?" Pete says. "Like what does the ghost have to do with anything? What's Casper been up to, like is he playing scrabble and you're giving up because he has superior knowledge of vocabulary over you, or what?"

Brendon stares at Pete imploringly, and says, in the most resigned voice imaginable, "You're such an idiot."

"My point is that I don't want to hang out with Frank, it has nothing to do with Scrabble," Gerard says, confusedly.

"Okay, but may I suggest this, how about we play scrabble?" Frank asks.

"How about you stop bothering me?"

"How about I keep trying until you soften up a little bit?"

"How about you understand that that's never going to happen?" Gerard asks.

"How about you two stop bickering like an old married couple," Ray says, and Frank turns the color of a strawberry, while Gerard suddenly becomes extremely interested in his fingernails.

"Well that shut them up, I commend you," Brendon says, giving him a thumbs up and biting into his sandwich.

"I was just, like, never mind," Frank mutters. He sighs. This has all got to work out somehow, doesn't it? It's not like he doesn't get together with Gerard in the end. If the other Frank could do it, he should be able to as well, right? Why is it so hard? Why is it impossible to say the right thing to Gerard? All he wants is to get on his good side. Just a little bit. That's all he wants.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Gerard whispers, barely loud enough for him to hear. "You wouldn't want to be my friend even if I didn't hate you."

"Hate is a big word," Mikey notes.

"No, enormous is a big word," Pete says, "And so is gigantic. Huge. Colossal. Massive."

"You need to shut up," Brendon warns him.

"I'm trying to be helpful!"

"We don't need you to read out the thesaurus page for big, Pete."

"I'm sorry," Pete frowns.

"And if we did, surely the first synonym for big would be the size of Brendon's ego," Frank adds.

"Yeah, or the size of Brendon's forehead."

"I hate you so much it amounts to the size of Brendon's forehead," Pete says, testing it out like it's a new saying. "Yeah, I like it. Has a certain ring to it."

"Someday I'll be like Van Gogh. I'm just not respected in my own time, that's all," Brendon says.

"Yeah, shut up forehead," Pete says.

"Someday, I am going to be rich and famous and I'll give you nothing, Pete, nothing but a middle finger and a scoff."

"Right, so I'm assuming the riches will be earned when you join the circus to show off your ridiculously huge forehead," Pete asks.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Brendon says, to no one in particular, possibly Jesus.

Frank just smirks and he sets his eyes on Gerard, who was apparently staring at him, because he turns away the instant that they make eye contact. Frank considers that to be a good thing. Maybe future Gerard wasn't lying about him having a crush on him, it may seem that way sometimes, but at the same time, it also seems like Gerard really is just bitter over the whole ignoring thing. Whatever the case, Frank is not going to give up without a fight, not until hell freezes over.