Disenchanted (Frerard) Wattys2015

Chapter 5

Taking a sip from my cup of coffee, I sat back in my - really uncomfortable - dressing room chair. It sounds as though we're in a burlesque show or something, dressing rooms, make-up, feather boas, god I feel like a female prostitute or something, at least I've never fucked and of my costumers, I couldn't say that about every one of the employees. It's not compulsory, and we can't charge for it, but if it's our last one for the evening and we want to, we are allowed to take them home (or to their home) and do more. Maybe if I wasn't married with a kid I would ha- yeah okay so I wouldn't unless maybe Gerard walked in, maybe.

Did I make the wrong decision ignoring Gerard? It's been four days since he last texted me, since Sunday, since I was an idiot and ignored him. Did I regret it? Uh, yeah. Was I a fucking idiot? Uh, yeah. Was I going to do anything about it? Almost definitely not. The hardest part of this is leaving him.

I missed him I did, please tell me this is the right choice, Katie and Kyle, they were the right choice, right? I couldn't leave Kyle, without him I don't know what I would even be. Sighing deeply I smashed my head into the dressing table, glad nobody else was present in the room, if Kyle ran away I can't even begin to explain how I would feel or what I would do, and- Holy shit, I ran away, I did to Gerard, my friends and my parents what would kill me for Kyle to do to me, what sort of shit bag am I? I should have just let them know just how much they mean to me, I couldn't leave Kyle, not now I had to show him the love I have for him, this time I mean I let him know how much he means to me.

Surely this would all work out anyway, I just let life play out right? Either this is how it's going to be or it will work out just right. It wasn't Gerard, not right now it's not, it's Kyle and Katie, my fucking wife, the wife who is so amazing and yet I still haven't told her I'm gay, fucking hell, I haven't told her I don't love her, not like I love Gerard. Holy shit, she's just filling his place, a temporary stand in for his face.

Oh fucking hell help me, I think I might just blow my brains against the ceiling. Who knew love could be so hard, left or right? Up or down? Backwards or forwards? Kyle or Gerard? Kyle, just maybe that was right? Satan yay, or nay? Say what you mean, tell me I'm right, please. It was Kyle, surely he was my son I couldn't abandon him, if my parents had left me I would think they hated me, and he's always scared I'll leave, it must be right, give me a sign! I want to believe.

I threw my head back again a few tears slipping down my cheeks probably smudging my eyeliner, I noticed the door was open and grumbled I needed to close that before someone came in looking for the toilets. Forcing my head back towards the dressing table I cried harder, rapidly wiping them away and trying to hide the evidence as I heard someone walk down the hall.

"Frank, Haven't you ever heard of closing the goddamn door." Brendon chimed in slamming the door behind him as he wiped the sweat from his forehead and fell into his chair next to mine. I grumbled in response, not really having an answer or feeling like talking to anyone, not even Brendon. "Bloody hot out there to night, there are some fit fuckers with a ton of cash too." He chuckled wiping his face. "Frank, you've only done the one haven't you, you take the next."

"No," I grumbled, my head still buried in my arms, "You can."

"Frankie? What's up sweet-pea?" He asked casually, clearly seeing I was tired or feeling lazy.

"Nothing." I groaned, I wanted to be the spoonful of sugar that just dissolves into your coffee, you put me there and I just disappear, god, without Gerard is how I disappear.

"Oh shit Frankie, your not alright." He stood up from the chair coming over to me, grabbing a fistful of my hair, he pulled my head up so it was no longer in my arms. "Y-you've been crying?!"

"Mm." I grunted yanking my head away from him.

"Now there is no way you can tell me your fine. You're not okay and it's not alright." He pushed the feather boa and suspenders to the side of the table sitting on it, letting my head drop and rest on his lap. "I've never seen you like this Frankie, in the whole four years I've worked here, you've never cried," He stroked my hair comfortingly as he spoke, "I've never seen your sweaty eyes." He joked.