It's not an aesthetic photo?? that's right broskies, this chapter is an exception since i wanted to show what Geetard is wearing lmao
☞ also this chapter is a bit longer than the others... and doesn't really have the same energy. but just trust me, kay? also i just skimmed through with editing.. sorry for mistakes ☜
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catagelophobia
~[|]~
Gerard had actually underestimated how truly fucked his ankle was, because when he finally got it checked out by a professional, they seemed pretty concerned. Apparently he had pulled a tendon or some shit, and had to wear a brace. The gut wrenching pain was actually a small price to pay for the fact that he didn't have to roller skate around the diner for at least a month.
Bryar was a sociopath but he did know about the employee health plan and that maybe just maybe, making Gerard skate with a twisted ankle would be a dick move.
Gerard often kept his mind occupied, very occupied, which was quite easy considering he had to work so many shifts now and it was getting colder so the diner was a lot busier. The question as to why Gerard had to keep himself busy, was actually not a question at all, it was pretty obvious given since Frank had left him the other day. Two weeks ago, funnily enough.
He hadn't come back, he hadn't found a way to contact Gerard maybe even through an coworker. Frank had just figuratively vanished, and the chances that he would be back were so slim that Gerard often found himself in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.
He didn't even know what he did wrong!
Gerard had assumed that their intimate moment was something both parties had unanimously consented to, but evidently not, and Gerard wanted to slap Frank almost as much as he wanted to kiss him, which was quite a feeling he might add.
Pete had tried his best to console Gerard and give him some much needed comfort, but Gerard refused it almost every time. It was only the handful of times were it was nearing five in the morning and he needed human contact so badly he would burst into the kitchen and cradle Pete forcefully, that he actually let himself be taken care of.
He couldn't help it, he was absolutely crushed. Which was actually quite weird because him and Frank didn't even kiss, they just sort of, stood there, which was all fine except it fucking wasn't because now the short shithead had abandoned Gerard completely and left him feeling redundant and alone.
Mikey had tried to get Gerard to go out with him again to another club, but he was always unsuccessful, and because of Gerard's busy schedule, it was almost a given that he couldn't go anywhere anytime soon. Or so he assumed.
"Pack your shit. We're going to a bar." Was the first thing his brother had said to him when he showed up at the diner at around seven o'clock.
Gerard looked up from the bucket of water on the ground and mop. He raised an eyebrow and was about to start restating his whole speech about not being allowed to go- something he had said many fucking times.
"And before you start your bullshit excuses, Ray said he'd cover your shift and tell your boss you went home because you forgot your painkillers." Mikey said with a devilish smile, a somewhat evil glint in his eyes.
Gerard's mouth was agape and he stared at his brother for a few seconds before saying the first thing that came to mind.
"Absolutely fucking not."
"Absolutely fucking yes." Mikey cheered, grabbing Gerard's forearm and already dragging him towards the door, minding his ankle of course.
"No- Mikey, I can't just leave!"
"Well, sucks." Mikey mumbled, already having pulled him to Gerard's parked car.
Gerard sighed and cursed his brother out quietly, he was absolutely fucked.
- -
"We are not having this discussion again, assface." Gerard said with a loud groan.
"Yes we are!" Mikey said defiantly, "You are so fashionably disabled it's insane."
"I am not wearing that- it's so tight. D'you want me to die or something?" Gerard asked dramatically, flopping down on his unmade bed.
"Honestly, a little." Mikey said with a laugh, dodging a pillow Gerard thew at him.
They were getting ready once again, a scene so annoying and somehow repetitive it was comical, and once again Mikey was trying to force Gerard into tight clothes that would make him look like a stripper. Today, his torture method was forcing him into a Rolling Stones shirt that he had bought when he was seventeen, so of course it was too small, and the same skinny jeans he had worn last time.
It was a black shirt with white half sleeves and it had the members of the band across the front in a colourful way. It wasn't a bad shirt, it just wasn't exactly what Gerard wanted to be wearing that evening, or what he wanted to apparently get drunk in.
Mikey was -of fucking course- in causal clothing, because being a hypocrite is fucking trendy, though he had exchanged his glasses for contacts which Gerard found odd.
"Also, I heard the bar we're going to is pretty packed so I'd wear some strong cologne." Mikey said, making Gerard quirk an eyebrow.
"And why the fuck is that?"
"Because," Mikey rolled his eyes, facing his brother fully with an annoyed expression, "If there's lots of people, you want to stand out, don't you?"
"Yeah but there's going to be drunk people everywhere so it wouldn't matter because the smell of alcohol would kill off the smell of your cologne." Gerard stated in a bored tone, facing his stained ceiling.
"Wow, someone's gonna get laid in college." Mikey grumbled, dousing himself with cologne regardless of what Gerard had said.
"You and I both know that's not how it worked out." Gerard snickered, risking embarrassing himself to make Mikey feel stupid.
"Hey, you finally admitted you're a virgin." Mikey said in a gleeful tone, smiling triumphantly.
"Just get your shit together, assface." Gerard said as he got up and went to the kitchen to grab his apartment keys.
- -
Gerard winced at the strong smell of vodka that filled his senses and the fact that there crowds of people standing around chatting.
Him and Mikey had found a place near the booze, sitting on the leather stools decidedly as Mikey looked around the place staking out his competition. Gerard didn't think he could possibly roll his eyes loud enough, and if he could he didn't think it would be audible over Mikey's loud rambling about a hot guy that was sitting somewhere by himself.
Mikey always was really open, he liked both guys and everything that came with 'em. He had a very bubbly aura that seemed to attract them instantly whilst Gerard, well, Gerard was just someone who would rather shoot himself than flirt with strangers.
Sure, he was a hopeless romantic in some ways- but that never came into play when strange drunk men were involved.
Mikey soon bid Gerard farewell, much to his protest, and went off to probably have a little explicit fun whilst Gerard wallowed in his pity. And as Gerard was wallowing in said pity, he couldn't help but feel a strange feeling of familiarity, something about the bar and it's name rung a bell- and now that he wasn't focused on other things, that was becoming more and more apparent.
When Gerard couldn't pin it to anything though, he decided that it would be a waste trying to figure something out that probably didn't even have a cosmetic connection.
"Is that your boyfriend?"
Gerard could feel his stomach flip as he looked up and saw the one fucking person he had been wishing to see for two weeks.
It was Frank, yes, the same Frank that had been making him feel miserable for the past weeks, and he didn't think he could feel more pissed if he tried. How could that be the first thing he said to Gerard after their two week break? No 'hey' or 'how are you?' just a big fat accusation.
"Are you fucking serious?" Gerard asked with a scoff, trying to ignore the fact that Frank, although a rude bastard, looked incredibly cute tonight with his way-too-big black T-shirt covering all the parts of him that Gerard could see.
Frank didn't say anything, he fixed out napkins in front of Gerard and another girl that was sat two seats away from Gerard. It was quite awkward for a few moments, given that Frank wasn't speaking and Gerard was simply glaring at him- hoping he had some liable excuse as to why he had practically been shunning Gerard for half a month.
"You're unbelievable." Gerard finally said quietly, playing with the napkin on the counter.
Frank again didn't respond, he just pretended not to hear Gerard, or at least Gerard assumed he was pretending, and instead asked the girl what she wanted.
Gerard lifted his head back up to look around the bar, hoping he'd catch sight of his little shit of a brother, because all he wanted to do was go home. Before they arrived he was somewhat okay going- he had made peace with the fact that he wasn't going to get his way, but now after seeing Frank in what he assumed was the bar he worked at, he just wanted to go home and maybe cry a little bit.
"You gonna order anything?" Frank asked, and it seemed like he wanted to forget the fact that Gerard was so obviously mad at him and that their 'friendship'- or whatever the fuck it was, seemed to be compromised.
"Vodka cranberry." Gerard said, keeping his head turned on the look out for Mikey.
Sadly though, Gerard did find Mikey, he found him dancing rather sensually with a random guy that looked oddly like Pete, but Gerard was sure he was just seeing things. He could feel Frank's eyes on him, and for some reason it didn't have the usual effect it usually had on him, this time, he just felt upset by it and he didn't really know why.
All Frank did was stop going to the diner- he could have been busy, he could have had better things to do, but Gerard was so confused and upset about it that it should have been the plot for a makeshift comedy movie titled "My Big Dumb Obsession."
But really, who was Frank to treat him and his feelings so lowly- he had thought that maybe their close moment would lead to a relationship or something sweet and melodic, but no.
Gerard was pulled out of his thoughts when Frank placed the drink on top of the brown napkin in front of him.
He turned back around, making sure to keep his gaze only on his drink.
"I wouldn't have pegged you for the bar type." Frank said, laughing rather nervously.
"Me neither." Gerard sighed, tracing the top of his glass with his index finger.
"So, you're here to watch your boyfriend dry hump guys?" Frank asked, trying to make a joke of the whole situation, one that was purely hypothetical and based on assumptions, but weirdly Gerard could sense there was a bit of hurt lingering in his tone.
"He's not my boyfriend, dickhead." Gerard said, a lot harsher than he meant to. "He's my brother."
"Oh." Frank said quietly, and his face looked just as relived as it did upset.
"Yeah." Gerard said, taking a sip of his drink through the small straw.
Frank stayed a moment longer before going to attend other people and make their requested drinks.
Gerard felt uncomfortable and it only worsened when a boy around his age took a seat next to him, calling Frank over to order a beer. Frank didn't waste a second cracking open the drink and passing it down to him, and Gerard hated that he actually thought it was somewhat impressive and attractive.
"What's with the frown?" The man asked, and Gerard kept his gaze on his drink.
He assumed the man was speaking to the lady next to him, because Gerard wasn't exactly the hottest nail in the toolbox, and chances that this guy was gay were quite slim. When Gerard didn't hear any response he looked up out of curiosity, only to met with the man already looking at him expectantly.
"You're asking me?" Gerard asked, cocking his head to the side.
"Of course." He laughed loudly, and Gerard found it kind of obnoxious. "So, what's with the long face?"
Gerard looked back down and shrugged, it wasn't really any of this guy's business, and Gerard would rather impale himself with a rod than talk about Frank to a stranger with Frank severing drinks but a few feet from them.
"Come on, cat's got ya tongue?" He laughed again, and Gerard noticed how his teeth were a slight yellow colour and that his shirt had what looked to be stains on it.
"I appreciate you tryina cheer me up but I'm really not in the mood." Gerard said honestly, looking to his side briefly to send the man an apologetic smile.
He didn't really take it as that, and instead put on a lopsided grin.
"That's fine, we don't have to talk much, ey?" The guy said in a kind of sultry tone, placing his hand on Gerard's shoulder boldly.
"Um, I'm not really-"
"You've got real nice eyes, y'know that?"
Gerard opened his mouth to express his discomfort, which he really had no problem doing, but he didn't really have the chance to because apparently Frank was the god of conversation and had decided to just shit his way into it. Just like he shit his way into Gerard's little helpless, and quite idiotic, heart.
"Hey, he told you he's not in the mood, asshole." Frank said with a snarl, the cloth he was using to clean the counter with abandoned on his shoulder, adding a bright contrast to his black shirt.
The man next to Gerard didn't really do much, he just looked overly confused- much like Gerard.
"I wasn't even doin' anything." He mumbled as he got up with his drink, wandering off.
Gerard looked directly at Frank and shot him a glare, "What the fuck was that?"
"You're welcome." He said as he took the cloth off his shoulder to start drying a glass he had put in the sink a few moments before.
"I- I didn't say thank you, I asked what the fuck that was." Gerard said with a small scoff.
"Hey, don't be so fucking bitchy I got that guy to leave you alone." Frank said simply.
"I didn't ask you to do that!" Gerard's eyes squinted angrily.
How dare he treat him like he was some child in need of his care? Not only had he ruined his work and home life, but now his social life too.
Frank didn't say anything, he just huffed and turned around to refill someone's glass.
Gerard grumbled, chugging down his drink quickly. It didn't have too much vodka in it, so he decided his next drink would have to be much more potent if he was going to actually enjoy his evening.
Frank looked at Gerard through the corner of his eyes, probably seeing his empty glass. He collected it and gave Gerard a look he knew meant he was waiting for him to tell him his next option of drink.
"You got any whisky?" Gerard asked, leaning on his forearms on the counter. He could sort of feel the vodka from his earlier drink kick in, and his tongue felt fuzzy and his brain felt buzzed.
"I don't think you should be mixing drinks..." Frank said with a concerned tone, making Gerard groan loudly.
"You're not my fucking Mom, just pass it over." Gerard said as he glared at him.
"You're drunk."
"I'm not drunk." Gerard corrected, staring holes into Frank's tattooed skin.
"I'm cutting you off." Frank dismissed, and Gerard could feel his blood start to boil.
"I've had one drink!" He said loudly, catching the attention of the people around him.
"You're a lightweight." Frank said bluntly.
"Yeah? Well you're a dick." Gerard growled.
Frank again didn't say anything and Gerard was becoming very annoyed by his lack of responses, but beneath all of his annoyance, there was true sadness once again, because he couldn't believe that Frank was completely ignoring their almost-kiss, and that he would rather pretend it didn't happen at all than just fucking address it. If he were to apologise and say it wasn't meant to be, then Gerard would be hurt sure, but at least he would know what Frank wanted- him just ignoring it almost hurt more, and Gerard wanted to just scream at him or maybe get him back. Either one would be pretty neat.
And Gerard didn't know if it was the earlier vodka he had put into his system, or the ache in his ankle that was becoming more and more apparent, but he decided he should ask Frank what really happened that evening.
"Frank, why did you leave?" Gerard asked softly, his tone much more vulnerable than he would have liked.
Frank looked up from his cloth to make eye contact with Gerard, his expression changed from demanding to gentle. Though it was quickly masked up by false confusion.
"What're you talking about?" He asked putting his head back down.
Gerard could feel his chest start cave in on itself, "You know what I'm talking about."
"I really don't, Gerard." Frank said before walking off to get someone's order, and Gerard could tell something was off with him.
There was already a lump in Gerard's throat as he himself looked down at his hands, wow, he really wouldn't have thought that someone as sweet as Frank could be such an asshole.
When Gerard decided that he'd had enough he got out his wallet and placed his money on the counter, starting to get up just as Frank caught him in the act.
"You're leaving." He stated with furrowed eyebrows, looking almost sad.
Gerard just nodded, not really trusting his voice because he'd rather die than cry for a second time that year- he refuses to sink down to that level.
"Um, okay, see you around?" Frank said quietly.
"No, you probably won't." Gerard said robotically as he turned back around and limped off.
He couldn't believe he was stupid enough to think Frank actually might have secret feelings for him. Gerard really was an idiot.