Fantastic Bastards In Monroeville (Frerard)

Three

I swear, the meals here get worse as time goes by. Today it's fried cod that's soaked in grease, soggy sauteed mushrooms, and what appears to be coleslaw. I guess the only appealing thing on the tray is the little blueberry pie that's in a tin foil pan. How cute. I stared down at my food, deliberating whether or not I should at least eat the pie. It's pie for god's sake. I know pie isn't the most healthiest thing in the world, especially for a landwhale like me, but holy shit am I starving. I felt my stomach growl loudly, begging me to at least feed it a morsel of food. I don't think I'm gonna eat the pie, though. As small as it is, it's likely got too much sugar and carbs, which is every fat person's worst enemy when it comes to dieting. I can see Frank sitting at his table, wolfing his down like there's no tomorrow. Maybe I can give mine to him. I'm sure he'd like that. But who in the hell would take pie from a stranger? You never know what's inside of it, whether it be someone's spit or boogers, or even their own fecal matter or jizz. No. It's a bad idea. I know I'd get strange looks if I were to--

"Hey there!" a voice called out next to me. Startled, I jumped and turned around to find who in the hell would dare to bug me--

Wait a minute...is it really him? Is Frank, the boy with forest hazel eyes with worlds inside them, really sitting next to me? No. This can't be real. He couldn't be possibly be sitting next to a miserable fuck like me. I looked again, seeing him from head to toe in person right next to me. He really is, and...he's smiling at me? Is this for real?

"You should really eat, y'know," Frank pointed to my food, looking at me with concern in his eyes. "You haven't eaten anything all day, have you? You're so thin!"

Oh, Frank. You must be blind! How in the hell am I thin? I'm a fucking blimp! I strongly suggest you get those pretty eyes of yours checked.

"I strongly suggest you eat. If you don't...you don't wanna know what they'll do to you," Frank frowned, seeing me not even pick up my fork to eat anything. He sighed deeply before he looked back up at me, pointing to my pie. "Can I eat that?"

I looked at him, my mind processing what he just asked me. Of course he can have it. He deserves it more than I do. I nodded my head yes, and Frank snatched the pie off my plate, scarfing it down. It wasn't long before he finished it, licking up all the crumbs on the small tin foil plate. He smiled, bits of blueberry and crumbs all over his lips. I smiled back, my eyes being blessed with that gorgeous grin. I know I said I always hated smiling, but when Frank smiles, I feel something warm inside of me; something genuine, unlike the fake smiles I see every day all around me in this hell. Frank's smile is genuine, full of joy despite the sickness in his head. It's genuine because despite the darkness deep inside him, he can still find a sliver of happiness, and it can be something as simple as enjoying a dessert. He smiles because it comes from his heart, and it's not forced. That is why I smiled back. When he's happy, so am I.

"You know, Gerard...you should smile more," Frank said, eyeing me with those otherworldly hazel eyes of his. "You've got a pretty smile. Why don't you smile at all? Why don't you talk, either?"

Oh my god...did he really just say all that? My god, he did. I kept my head down, probably now blushing like an idiot. I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest, making it constrict. If only he knew the reason why I don't smile or talk. I'm sure he'd understand if I ever told him, even though I know in the back of mind that will never happen. I really do wanna speak to him, but my own lips won't let me. He'd hate my voice. He'd hate to hear me talking to him, and that's why I'm gonna stay quiet. Lindsey hated it when I spoke, and I'm sure Frank is no different.

"Well...I know you're not gonna talk, but...that's okay," Frank shrugged, still smiling at me. "I'll talk to you. You look like you need a friend. I wanna ask something, if that's okay,"