Grabbing his phone from lost and found and walking to the parking lot, everything started to piece together for Frank. The medic said that on the official records he had passed out from pure dehydration because they couldn't prove that Mikey had anything to do with it. Personally, Frank thinks it was a combination of dehydration and an adrenaline rush, but it seems the fuckin patient's opinion doesn't matter. The parking lot was a ghost town, street lights barely fighting back the darkness of the night. Taking the dangerous path he had made before the concert, Frank grabs his phone, checking bus times. The time is 19:43, next bus is 20:00, google says it'll take him 30 minutes to get there walking. It had seemed so much shorter the first time, with excitement pushing him.
Now he's fucking running because he's short and google can't calculate that. Sprinting to the bus and stumbling on, feeling the pain in his ankles and the stares on him. The people staring can fuck off. Counting off five seats, and grabbing the 7th seat on the right, thankfully empty. Sitting down, opening his phone, checking the images. The video staring him down as he touches the empty inside of his pocket, his right pocket, the one he keeps his earbuds in. I consider trusting my phone to be quiet before remembering the fact that it's broken and you never know what volume it's on. Frank lets out a puff of air before rubbing his eyes, just wanting to go home and take a shower. He pulls his hands away, reaching to grab the phone, arm catching his attention. He lifts his sleeve to see a slightly blurry sharpie. Fuck, sharpie. Reading it again and again, trying to decide whether he's the biggest idiot or the luckiest man.
"Sorry –Mikey Way" with a group of numbers.
He thinks about the dream, Mikey's smile and giggles, his eyes, the felt tip on my skin. He said so much dumb shit, truthful but dumb, and this number was from Mikey. He adds the number to his phone under the name "MCR agent?" before opening Tetris on his.
Frank throws his body onto my bed, letting reality wash over him. He met Mikey, thought it wasn't real, kinda flirted with him, and got a number to contact him. The number. Opening his phone to check the number, the time catching his eyes, 22:00. He puts his phone on the charger before sprawling out, closing his eyes.
