ONE: Vanilla on My Hands

50: Frank Told Himself that He Wasn't Going to Cry Anymore

Frank was packed and dressed and out of the house as quickly as possible. He didn't even look over the house as he dragged his suitcase into the entrance that he had been in not fifteen minutes before. He didn't waste any time as he lugged the suitcase out of the house, setting it down by the car before turning back to the house, pulling the door closed.

He didn't even think twice when he pulled out his keys to unloop the front door key that Gerard had given him. He pushed it through the letterbox before he turned and headed back towards the car. Frank grabbed his suitcase again, pulling it towards the trunk of the car. He groaned under his breath when he heard the sound of the driver getting out to walk across the gravel driveway towards him.

"Let me help you with that," Gavin offered politely as he tried to grab at the suitcase while Frank got the trunk open. Frank knew that he was only trying to be nice. Hell, it was probably part of his job description to help in situations like this, but Frank didn't need the help. He was his own person and he could do this all by himself.

"It's fine. You really don't have to do this," Frank insisted but the driver clearly wasn't having any of it, only making Frank irate that he was still being treated like this, "Seriously, stop!" Frank snapped, snatching his suitcase handle from the driver's hands, "I can do it by my-fucking-self."

He didn't mean to snap; he hated the fact that he had snapped at the driver, but he hated the fact that he was still being treated like he was worthy of this. He just wanted to feel somewhat normal even though he swore that he was going to break down and cry again. Frank told himself that he wasn't going to cry anymore, but he also knew that he was only lying to himself.

"Sorry, dude. Sorry..." He muttered guiltily as he put his suitcase in the trunk. Gavin didn't say a word to him as they both got back into the car. He didn't say a word to Frank for the rest of the journey either. He was alone with himself in his head, replaying the moment in the office over and over again. He was reliving it and hating how he had been talked about. Yes, Gerard had defended him, but that didn't stop Frank from the sad epiphany that had bitch-slapped him harder than a pimp with a slow-day hooker.

He was too fragile to properly process anything so he tried his best to zone out, feeling somewhat numb and hurt from how it had all come to an end. He tried his best not to cry, but he couldn't stop the stray tears from escaping. He only wiped them away just so he could tell himself that he wasn't properly crying. If he accepted that he was, then it would only make him cry more. He couldn't do that now, especially when the car slowed and pulled up underneath the elegant Longway of the hotel.

"The Hotel Plaza, sir." The driver told Frank, looking at him in the rearview mirror. Frank took a second to glance out at the hotel, instantly feeling like he was not supposed to be in a place like this; the front of the hotel looked far too extravagant. Frank's stomach churned as he took in the sight of the hotel, wishing he could be anywhere else.

"Thanks," Frank said weakly, getting out of the car to get his suitcase from the trunk. He heaved the case out, setting it down on the pavement to see the driver standing by the side of the car, waiting for him, "Look, if you're about to offer to carry that in for me, you really don't have to."

"Very well, sir," The driver smiled at him, "I hope you enjoy your stay here."

"Yeah... I'll try to," Frank muttered under his breath as he lugged the suitcase behind him and he made his way towards the entrance of the hotel. Frank swallowed nervously as he walked up to the black revolving doors. Instantly, he knew that they were going to look down their noses at him. The doormen were already watching him as he made his way up the rich-red carpet that led to the doors. He knew that he was already dressed far too inappropriately for such a high-class hotel like this one. Maybe if he had kept his suit on then he would have fit in a little better, but there was no way that he was going to be keeping anything that Gerard had given him. He just tried his best to ignore the judging looks he was getting from the doormen, keeping his tear-stained face down while he pushed himself and his suitcase into the hotel.