Radio Man

Frank totally wasn’t kidding when he said he’d jerk off to loud gay porn. Mikey’s been banging on the wall for the past 5 minutes, so Frank’s turned the TV up louder and has started to moan louder. Even though he finds it fucking funny, he actually can’t help but moan.

After he’s done with his little race against the TV porn star with who can shoot their load first – Frank wins, as he always does. It’s totally skill, not stamina. Oh yeah.- he turns his brand spanking fucking new and working radio on. The reception is clear and not a hiss or drop of frequency yet. Perfect.

Just as Radioman’s – Frank doesn’t know why he doesn’t just call him Gee or Gerard now that he knows his full name, Radioman just sounds so much more, mysterious to him, he likes mysterious, yes. Yes- show is about to start, Frank’s phone fucking rings.

“Uh, hello?” Frank asks cautiously. He has no idea why he thinks his Radio DJ is calling, but maybe he’s just a hopeless romantic...

“His show is about on,”Mikey says, and all of the nice, romantic thoughts in Frank’s head vanish.

“Fuck off, Mikey.” Frank growled.

“I am going to ring up,” Mikey said, sounding superior.

“Ha. Are you, now?” Frank asked, feigning disinterest. Why would Mikey call up his own brother?

“Yeah, I like to do it every now and then, he never knows it’s me until I request something really strange, last time I asked if he could bring his washing in from ma’s place, and he hung up on me. Fucker. So I feel it’s due time to ring up again.”

“You’re a dick,” Frank’s laughing. Because. Yeah, that is pretty funny to do. He thinks wistfully that if he actually knew Gerard, (Oh my God, I totally just called him Gerard!) then maybe he and Mikey could do the same thing. Or Frank could call in and just... you know, let the general public know that he’s Gerard’s boyfriend. Which he is not.

“Yeah, I know.” Mikey said airily, “But anyway, I am going to ring up, you should listen.”

“I will, now can you like fuck off so I can listen?” Frank said, grouchy. He’d already missed the start of the show, God dammit!

“Oh. Yeah, sorry to interrupt your obsessing over my brother time. Ew. That is really fucking creepy Frank. You’re a fucking creep. Do you know how cree-”

Frank hangs up ans is relieved when the show is running slightly late.

“Hello New York City, Newark, Belleview and anywhere in between. It is now midnight which means I, Gee, am about to start the show. As you all know, it is now Wednesday and that means its hump day. So say a good hump day to all your fellow colleagues and- sorry what? Bryar get off, I am live, yes I know. No! Go. Now. Sorry guys, sound guy. Again. I should introduce you to him. Screw it. Bob. Hey. BOB! Put your mic on. Ok. Awesome. Everyone, this is Bob Bryar and he is the guy that answers your calls and takes your name and song and then plays it, so if he stuffs up your request, this is his name and addr-”

“Sorry, Gee is having some technical issues, here is Madonna with Like a Virgin, just for those special people out there, Gee.”

Frank is already laughing, and he’s pretty sure he can hear Mikey laughing too. Man, he would love to work on radio. It’d be fucking awesome. Awesome he thinks. Yeah. To work with his radio man. Awesome.

“Sorry for the... technical... issue before guys. My mic suddenly stopped working for no reason. Ok, so the lines are open, the number 1800-555-435-talk, so ring now and come say hello, request a song, share a problem or just have a good ol’ chat with me.”
Michael Jackson’s Beat It starts playing and Frank is unwillingly tapping his foot along as he writes down chords for a song he’s written. All his college shit is done and dusted. Not until next week though, when the new stuff comes in. and everybody together now. Yay.

“Welcome back, it’s a lovely night tonight, the elderly are asleep, the teens are sneaking out and the parents are getting high without being caught. We have a caller on line 1. Hello, what’s your name and what can I do for ya?”

Frank turns in his chair and rests his feet up on his bed as he listens to the chat going on.

“Hey. My name is mike and I just wanted to request something,”
Frank almost falls off his chair when he realises Mikey wasn’t fucking around. He’s actually calling... and talking to his brother. Frank wishes he could talk to Gerard.

“Hey mike. You sound familiar. Maybe we’ve met? Whatever, I can’t disclose my secret identity. What song can I get for you?”

“Well it’s not a song. I would just like to request that next time you make me a coffee its two damn teaspoons of sugar not fu-”

He gets cut off. Frank is laughing until he’s crying and his ribs and stomach are aching.

“Ok. Sorry for that guys. That was, someone. Who is almost as close as family to me but not quite. He rings every now and then to get on Bryar’s and my own nerves, so sorry. Also, Mikey please refrain yourself from ringing me while I am at work. If I get fired, you will be banned from good coffee. You know I could, you bastard.”

There is a bit of shuffling, what sounds like a curse but hushed and then Green Day comes through the speakers, making Frank sit up straight and smile like his cat just caught on fire. Which actually wouldn’t make him smile at all. He loves animals. But if it suddenly combusted... that’d be pretty sweet. Not that he’s with animal cruelty. But maybe his cat would become like... Supercat. Thundercat. He giggles to himself and may have snorted as well. No, he didn’t just snort. Only dorks snorted when they laughed.

Again, his phone rings and he doesn’t need to answer with anything to know who it is.

“Did you listen?”
“Ha. Yeah. You’re an ass. He said you’re like. Not family. How does it feel to be shunned out of his life?”

“Hmm, good actually. Now I can fucking give him shit for being a complete dweeb and weirdo. And for trying to cut off his coffee supply.”

“That’s nice,"

“He does it to me, too, you know. Sometimes I forget you’re an only child.” Mikey sighs a bit. “When I use to have glasses man, he’d like, I dunno, like do shit to them and it’d piss me off, so. Payback is a bitch, right?”

“That it is.” Frank agrees, not really paying attention. “Hey I’m gonna request a song, what song ya feel like listening to?”

“You just wanna talk to my brother man, fuck. Umm, Morrissey?”

“No. You always listen to Morrissey.” Frank plays with the phone cord and half-listens to Mikey while Gee starts giggling through the radio. D’aww.

“Oh come on, you like them. I heard them on your CD player a few days ago,”

“Yeah, but. No.”

“Fine, fucker. How about some… um. Guns’N’Roses?”Frank snorts as Mikey scrounges for another band. He’s too obsessed with Morrissey, really.

“I can deal with that, what song?” Frank asks, already compiling a list in his head.

“Oh oh! I know. November Rain, or. Or. Sweet Child O’ Mine,”
“Ok, ok. Hanging up now,” Frank says, bored, and true to his word, he hangs up.

“Hello, we have a caller at 12.30am, what are you doing up so late sir?”

“Hey, it’s frank, just sitting up listening to your show with my dweeby neighbour ringing me next door,”

“Oh hey man, nice to hear from ya. You’re the same Frank that rang last night, yeah? With the awesome song from The Misfits?”

“Ha, yeah that was me.”

“Awesome dude. And yeah, about dweeby neighbours, I know what you mean. I have a dweeby brother who is just... dweeby I guess. Even if he doesn’t wear his cool-nerd glasses anymore.”
Frank laughs because, oh. How ironic.

“Ha, yeah. I think I can relate pretty well to that one,”

“Yeah. Ok. Bryar is telling me to hurry up and get a song from you, so what’d ya want man?”

“Ok. Me and the neighbour would like Guns’N’Roses, Sweet Child O’ Mine.”

“Oh, sweet song. A really sweet song. Thanks for calling Frankie, have a good night yeah, and here you have it, for Frankie and his dweeby neighbour, Guns’N’Roses,”

Frank hears mikey bang hard on the wall and just laughs at him as the song filters through the air. It’s a good song. It’s a sweet song. A really sweet song.