Faces of the In-Between (Frerard)

Chapter 2 ~ At the Gates of Defeat

When Gerard finally woke, he was no longer in the bar which he faintly remembers visiting the night before. His eyes fluttered open, and he felt a light breeze flow across his face. Looking up, his eyes squinted at the grey sky which hung over him. He was just outside the bar, head leaned on the brick wall, feet laid out in front of him. His briefcase was neatly set to his right, and it looked extremely out of place against the dirty, grimy ground of the tight alley way in which he was sitting in. All of a sudden his head felt as if it was being crushed together, and a soreness rose up his spine from sleeping in a sitting position all night. The hangover had made it's appearance. Gerard took a deep breath in, attempting to gather up some pain tolerance which he would need a lot of if he planned to ride out the hangover that he had earned fair and square.

People on the sidewalks walked past him, not bothering to take note of the helpless, pitiful, man who was quite down on his luck at the time. Not one person even as much as glanced in his direction. It made him angry for a moment that not even one person would take the time to help him, but then again, Gerard realized that he probably wouldn't help a drunk English teacher leaned on the wall of a bar either. It was just the way society worked: everyone kept to themselves, only worrying about their own problems and hardships. 

For a split second, he contemplated whether or not he was dreaming the same dream that he had been writing about; the one where he was stuck as a lifeless, invisible man, but no, he couldn't be because he specifically remembered his dream from his drunken sleep. In his dream last night, a little boy had been able to see him when no one else was able to. The boy was like Gerard, in that he was stuck between life and death. Gerard couldn't quite call to mind the rest of what had happened in his dream, something to do with a hand... but none of the images were coming in clear. So, he wasn't dreaming, that was for sure. Normally he would've tried to recall the events of his dream, so he could incorporate them into his book, but his head was throbbing, and he was in no mood for thinking.

He ran a hand through his now greasy hair, and pulled his jacket sleeve up to examine the watch on his arm. It was already seven in the morning. His first class started at seven thirty... Should he even make an effort to go to work today? Well, what else would he do all day? Mope around with a saddened face, thinking about Tess and what he did wrong to make her cheat on him... Or go to school and have to face the overly estatic counselor that would only make him visualize just how unhappy he really was. 

After ruminating the subject for a few minutes, his head still leaning on the brick wall, he decided to pick his body up off the ground and try to make it to work on time. Not necessarily because he wanted to go to work, but mainly for the reason that Frank would be there. It was strange for Gerard to want to go to school just because of a student, but yesterday, Frank had interested him. No one ever talked to Gerard, especially students, so he figured if anything was going to make him fell the least bit better, it would be talking to someone.

Gerard winced as he stood up, using the wall to help him with the task. There was a loud grumble in the pit of his stomach, then he felt warm saliva fill the inside of his cheeks. That was always the warning sign for throw up... He drooped over and spilled out his insides in the middle of the alley. A woman walking by on the sidewalk gasped and made a disgusted face at Gerard. Well, in her defence, Gerard was a bit disgusting; a line of spit hanging from his bottom lip as he lifted his head up slowly. Well, at least he got all of that out of him...

The woman remined him of Tess. Her long brown hair, and the woman's pursed lips matched Tess's almost exactly. He desperatly did not want to think of Tess anymore. She was a whore. Okay, now he was just getting his anger out, but it helped a little.

He wiped his mouth off on his sleeve, and stumbled over to pick up his briefcase. Digging through it's contents, he found that everything was still there; his notebook sitting on top of his lesson plans for the day. Gerard reluctantly found his car and jammed the keys into the ignition. He was going to be late, but at least he was going to show up to work...