Insanity is the Best Form of Happiness || Frerard

3.) Desolation Row

I rolled over to check the time on my clock.

12:05 PM

I shot up out of bed, throwing on a pair of black skinny jeans, a black hoodie, and my Converse before dashing up the stairs

I stole one of Mikey's pancakes, triggering a disgusted look to appear on his face. I smirked and went back downstairs. After applying a small amount of eyeliner, I dashed out of the house.

It was drizzling slightly, the sky was dark and gloomy. It was perfect. I entered the coffee shop and sure enough, there was Frank, seated at a small table, set for two. Since there was only one other seat to sit at, I sat there, across from Frank.

"Hey," he said, slightly perky.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Nothin'."

This conversation was going no where; I was relieved when I saw the employee with two cups of coffee in his hands. He set them briefly on the table, casually walking away.

The cups steamed slightly, certainly boiling inside. I looked up at Frank, only to catch sight of him staring at me again.

"What, why do you keep staring at me?"

"Oh, jeez. I'm sorry. You just have such beautiful eyes- shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

I couldn't help blushing; my mind was blank, confused at what to say next.

"No, no, it's okay. Thank you."

"Oh, well, you're welcome I suppose."

We sat there in silence drinking our coffees. In case you haven't noticed, I can't keep a conversation to save my life.

That's when my phone began to ring.

"Hey, dad."

"I swear to god, Gerard, if you're out being a fag, I will beat your ass."

"Dad, I'm not."

"You better not be. I want you home at 3."

"Yes dad."

Another great conversation with my fantastic father.

"What did your dad want?"

"Nothing, I have to be home at 3."

"Gerard, it's 2:40."

"Alright, I should probably start leaving then."

And with that, we got up and exited the building. The weather was at a consistent drizzle still.

"So, Gerard, what is your family like?"

"Satan."

"Oh, I'm sure you don't mean it."

"You wish I didn't."

Frank grabbed my hand and intertwined his fingers in mine. This was startling at first since I've never held hands with... well, anyone. He began to try to pull away, seeming as though I hadn't held his hand back, but I gripped his hand tighter so he couldn't slip away. He wore a small smile of satisfaction until I told him I had to go inside.

"Text me?" He asked it so shyly and innocently, no one could say no.

"Okay."

I opened the door and walked into my house. My dad was asleep on the couch, Mikey was gone, and my mom was making dinner in the kitchen. Ignoring everyone, I walked to my bedroom.

I picked up my cheap, acoustic guitar, attempting to strum some chords but failing miserably. I had never properly learned how to play guitar, but my Grandma Elena had bought it for my birthday a few years back. Frustrated, I packed up the guitar, once again, placing it back into the corner.

I pulled a comic book out of the shelf and popped a Green Day CD into my stereo. It was a good 10 minutes before my phone buzzed.

Hey

Hey, Frank

So I was wondering when you were free next.

Umm, really any day.

Alright, well, seeing as today is Thursday, do you want to meet up again on Saturday?

Sure, where?

We can meet outside the coffee shop, but I have somewhere I want to show you(:

Alright(:

I went into the kitchen to find a bottle of water or something to drink when my mother and father walked out.

"Gerard, you're eighteen; when are you moving out?"

"What, are you, like, kicking me out."

"Oh, no, of course not," said my mother; my father only gave the opposite expression.

With that, I stumbled downstairs and went to bed, even if it was only 5. Fuck them. They can't kick me out.