Status: Coming back shortly .... TBA
Radio Man
031
Frank’s at home. Sitting on his couch thinking about how the wall on his opposite really looks like it’s been mauled by someone who is short and has a temper. Maybe an elf. Or something mystical.
Frank thinks that would be way awesome. Only thing is that he’s not mystical. Nor is he an elf. He’s just a short dude who has a temper some days. Some days.
He still can’t believe he threw the milk carton at the wall. He was angry. But who the hell throws milk. At a wall? And to make it worse, the milk carton didn’t even break. It just simply bounced off the wall and hit the couch.
When Frank saw that his attempt at making a mess didn’t happen too well. He kind of grabbed a lot of coleslaw and flung it at the wall.
This time it worked.
So now the wall looks really texture-ised. And maybe a little more colourful. Either way. Frank now has to clean it. And he doesn’t want to. Someone could see this as art. Yes. Art.
Frank gets up and grabs the cloth before walking back to the amazing wall that is now art. Except one, two, three swipes with his hand changed the art into a smearing white-ish liquid on the wall.
It smells really bitter.
While Frank is cleaning up, sighing and groaning to himself for that dramatic effect, someone knocks on the front door. Sending Frank’s heart into his throat and making him jump at least a foot off the ground.
The knocking continues and Frank’s heart is now back in its proper place. Behind his rib cage.
The walk from the now stickily clean wall to the front door seems to take a real long time. But when he reaches the door and looks through the peep whole. He wished the walk would have killed him.
“Frank. I. I know you’re in there. Mikey said he could hear stuff being. Thrown at a wall? Or something. Please open up. I think. I think we need to talk. Or something. I know it’s awkward because. Because of what happened earlier. Don’t worry. I got up Mikey. He’s stupid when he’s high. But. Please. Can we just talk?” Frank knows that voice. Oh yes. It belongs to Gerard. And if it belongs to Gerard. That means.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shitshitshitshit. No. no. he’s not there. It’s my mean imagination. Yeah. That’s it. OH FUCK it’s not. He’s right there! Oh god. I’m. I’m gonna be sick. Oh. Oh no.
“HANG ON!” Frank runs to the bathroom and just about everything he’s had in his life is coming up right now.
And he hates having a nose right about now. All this burning liquid is running through it and he thinks even a mushed up pea came through his left nostril. He can’t be too sure though.
Was it even a pea?
Once Frank is done heaving and gasping and maybe even crying just a little. It’s not his fault. It’s his bodies fault. It just. Does that. Sometimes.
The door is being knocked on again and Frank swears his body just reloaded on vomit. But he’s not going to be sick again. He just doesn’t want to cry.
“Frank. If you’re like. Ignoring me. Please don’t. I’m not going to make things weird. I just want to sort some stuff out and maybe we can. Make this weirdness go away? I don’t fucking. Fuck. Shit. Ok Frank. Please. Can we just. Talk. Please?”
Frank thinks he’s going to cry again as he walks towards the door and unlocks it. As soon as he sees Gerard standing there, his hair all messy and hanging down, some strands over his eyes Frank can swear he just. Dies. But he doesn’t because then Gerard smiles and yeah. Now he’s officially died. But then he remembers why Gerard is here. And ok.
Frank does die now.
“Hey,” Gerard’s eyes are shooting all over the place. This is so fucking awkward!
“H-Hey,” Frank smiles a little and steps aside for Gerard to come in.
I don’t wanna be here. I don’t wanna be rejected. I don’t wanna be made fun of. I don’t wanna be laughed at. I don’t want Gerard to hate me.
I don’t want to lose him.
Frank thinks that would be way awesome. Only thing is that he’s not mystical. Nor is he an elf. He’s just a short dude who has a temper some days. Some days.
He still can’t believe he threw the milk carton at the wall. He was angry. But who the hell throws milk. At a wall? And to make it worse, the milk carton didn’t even break. It just simply bounced off the wall and hit the couch.
When Frank saw that his attempt at making a mess didn’t happen too well. He kind of grabbed a lot of coleslaw and flung it at the wall.
This time it worked.
So now the wall looks really texture-ised. And maybe a little more colourful. Either way. Frank now has to clean it. And he doesn’t want to. Someone could see this as art. Yes. Art.
Frank gets up and grabs the cloth before walking back to the amazing wall that is now art. Except one, two, three swipes with his hand changed the art into a smearing white-ish liquid on the wall.
It smells really bitter.
While Frank is cleaning up, sighing and groaning to himself for that dramatic effect, someone knocks on the front door. Sending Frank’s heart into his throat and making him jump at least a foot off the ground.
The knocking continues and Frank’s heart is now back in its proper place. Behind his rib cage.
The walk from the now stickily clean wall to the front door seems to take a real long time. But when he reaches the door and looks through the peep whole. He wished the walk would have killed him.
“Frank. I. I know you’re in there. Mikey said he could hear stuff being. Thrown at a wall? Or something. Please open up. I think. I think we need to talk. Or something. I know it’s awkward because. Because of what happened earlier. Don’t worry. I got up Mikey. He’s stupid when he’s high. But. Please. Can we just talk?” Frank knows that voice. Oh yes. It belongs to Gerard. And if it belongs to Gerard. That means.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shitshitshitshit. No. no. he’s not there. It’s my mean imagination. Yeah. That’s it. OH FUCK it’s not. He’s right there! Oh god. I’m. I’m gonna be sick. Oh. Oh no.
“HANG ON!” Frank runs to the bathroom and just about everything he’s had in his life is coming up right now.
And he hates having a nose right about now. All this burning liquid is running through it and he thinks even a mushed up pea came through his left nostril. He can’t be too sure though.
Was it even a pea?
Once Frank is done heaving and gasping and maybe even crying just a little. It’s not his fault. It’s his bodies fault. It just. Does that. Sometimes.
The door is being knocked on again and Frank swears his body just reloaded on vomit. But he’s not going to be sick again. He just doesn’t want to cry.
“Frank. If you’re like. Ignoring me. Please don’t. I’m not going to make things weird. I just want to sort some stuff out and maybe we can. Make this weirdness go away? I don’t fucking. Fuck. Shit. Ok Frank. Please. Can we just. Talk. Please?”
Frank thinks he’s going to cry again as he walks towards the door and unlocks it. As soon as he sees Gerard standing there, his hair all messy and hanging down, some strands over his eyes Frank can swear he just. Dies. But he doesn’t because then Gerard smiles and yeah. Now he’s officially died. But then he remembers why Gerard is here. And ok.
Frank does die now.
“Hey,” Gerard’s eyes are shooting all over the place. This is so fucking awkward!
“H-Hey,” Frank smiles a little and steps aside for Gerard to come in.
I don’t wanna be here. I don’t wanna be rejected. I don’t wanna be made fun of. I don’t wanna be laughed at. I don’t want Gerard to hate me.
I don’t want to lose him.
♠ ♠ ♠
I got bored so I wrote another one. So. What do you think will happen?Will something finally happen. Or will they dodge Frerardness for another chapter?
lol
COMMENTS?!?!?!
xxx jess