Antichrist (Frerard)

17: There's An OC In This Chapter Because Bert Is Already In This Story

"You ever coming back to New York, Frankie? Miss you, you know? Fucking want you - you fucking want me too, don't you-" Frank finally managed to react, having been almost distant, his head being in a separate universe altogether just a few moments ago.

"Alex, my best friend died. He fucking died and I don't know what to do." That shut Alex up, momentarily at the very least, but this time, Frank needed answers and that was what Alex was good at - he always had an opinion, and he always had too much of it. He always had an idea of how he thought thing should go, and what he wanted you to do - there was no question of anybody else, and he was just too good with words and too goddamn good-looking to ever let people let on to that.

Frank knew him too well, though, and still, even after completely getting away from him, here he found himself calling that same fucking number again.

"I thought I was your best friend." Alex finally responded and Frank could fucking sense the smirk.

"You are, I mean, he's fucking dead now anyway, I-" Alex cut him off before he could quite break down into tears.

"How did he die? What happened?" Alex was just too nonchalant about this, and well, about everything and maybe, especially in times like these, that was a cause for concern, but right now, Frank just needed someone to fucking tell him what to do.

"I don't know, he just-" Frank stopped, soon realising that he could never tell Alex about Bert and his predictions and about Gerard, his vampire boyfriend, and about Bob who just dealt with shit, because his life right now almost seemed to be in a fucking parallel universe to the one back with Alex in New York where vampires and hallucinations only existed as side effects of self-medication. "He was fine and then Mikey's fucking screaming at me that he's just dead on the floor - fucking dead, no fucking sign of what killed him at all, he's just dead."

"Who's Mikey?" It seemed so fucking irrelevant and Frank didn't think it mattered at all, but he answered regardless, because he trusted Alex right now - he needed to, and he hated that.

"Ray's boyfriend, well, he was- I... just-"

"You sure Mikey didn't kill him?" Alex asked and Frank seemed to physically recoil at even the possibility, because Mikey fucking loved Ray, sure he kissed Pete, but- he kissed Pete.

"No, he wouldn't, but, we- me and Bert we caught him cheating on Ray the other day - he was kissing this other guy called Pete, and he said it was a mistake, like a one time thing and that he was fucking sorry, but I don't know. Ray fucking loved Mikey, and Ray was like my best friend, I-"

"I'm your best friend, Frank. Don't fucking forget that, okay?"

"I know, Alex." Frank sighed out, taking a drag of his cigarette. "I fucking know."

"Good." Alex paused and Frank really just couldn't help but be nervous. "Come back to New York, will you? Sometime soon anyway, I mean, you'll have a funeral to attend and shit, but come back. You went there to get away from your parents' death, didn't you? Now come here to get away from Ray's, what do you say?"

"I don't know, Alex, I just don't know." Frank sighed out; his head a fucking clusterfuck and this was nothing more than a regular side effect of having any kind of conversation with Alex. "I need to be here for Mikey and shit, and Gerard, and-"

"Who's Gerard?" Alex stressed, and Frank fucking hated to answer him, and fuck, Alex always knew when he was lying.

"Gerard's my boyfriend."

"You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend." Alex's answer was almost immediate and his tone made his disapproval rather evident.

"We haven't spoken in a few weeks, I would have told you otherwise-"