Status: Coming back shortly .... TBA
Radio Man
008
Starbucks Starbucks Star-bucks. Starbucks Starbucks Star-bucks. Frank was craving coffee. Badly. Although that doesn’t really give an excuse to the little sing song he has going on in his head. Maybe he’s starting to finally loose it. It’s Mikey’s fault.
Frank’s already ordered his coffee. And now he is waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And jesus fucking Christ he is still waiting. fuck this he thinks before going over to a table and sitting down. It’s still inside so they can see him when it’s done but there was no way he was just going to stand there waiting for a coffee. It’s not even that busy in the shop. Ok. That’s a lie. It’s fucking packed full. Kids everywhere. Teenagers everywhere. Adults everywhere. Saggy elderly in some places. This store needs to be bigger.
Frank’s gotta listen to Radio Man tonight. He didn’t last night. No. he does not count listening through the wall as listening. But he needs his fix. It’s almost like withdrawal. From a person. Over a radio. Who he doesn’t know what looks like. It’s still counted as withdrawal. Can you even have a withdrawal from a person? Or is it just called missing someone? You can have withdrawal from cigarettes. And that means that you miss it. Kind of. But then saying you’re having withdrawal over a Radio Person, who you’ve never met nor seen. Sounds kind of obsessive. And Frank is not obsessive. No. he’s not.
“sir, sir. SIR!” Frank jumps a little and smiles a little at the lady in front of him.
“uhh. Yes?”
“your coffee is on the front counter,”
“oh thank you,”
Frank heads up to the counter, pushing past what seems like fucking pro wrestling people before finally. finally. He gets to the marbled counter where is coffee his standing with his name written on the side.
“Was it just the one sir?” Frank looks up and is met with a Hulk Hogan look a like and woah, what the fuck is with the wrestling agenda today?.
“uhh. N-yeah. What?” seriously. This. Thing. Looks like Hulk Hogan, and Frank is kind of wanting to ask for an autograph because holyfuckingshit does he look like him.
“Coffee, was it just the one?”
“oh yeah, sorry,”
“$6.95 thanks,” Frank hands over his card and signs the receipt before taking his coffee and walking carefully towards the door.
Big wrestling like people + Cramped space and hot coffee = burning Frank. The door is in sight. The escape route out of this compressed wrestling meeting is only a few feet away. And then.
“SIR! Sir! Ummm, FRANK IERO,” Frank stops. Frowns. Turns. And stares blankly at Hulk Hogan.
“uhhh… yes?”
“you forgot your card,” the massive Neanderthal walks over and hands over Frank’s Visa. woops.
“Thanks man,” Neanderthal Hulk Hogan smiles and walks away.
Now Frank needs to put his coffee down so he can get his wallet out and put his card back in it. And no he can not do it while holding his coffee. That is called multi-tasking. Frank does not multi-task. Ever.
There’s a free table near the door, so he stalks over to it and places his coffee down before grabbing his worn wallet and slipping the hard plastic debt creator into its place. Frank can hear the bell chime on the door but soon that is ignored as he is met with the corner of the door whacking him in his shoulder and back, tumbling him forwards and jesus fucking Christ! That fucking hurt! Again!.
“fucking OW!” Franks voice goes up an octave and that is a manly thing to do.
“oh shit! I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” Frank turns, his angry face on and he’s ready to pounce but what the fuck?.
The person in front of him is staring wide eyed and Frank feels like a fucking strangled cat, again with the animal cruelty reference Frank, maybe mom was right about going to see a doctor when I was younger, because the guy in front of him. well. The guy in front of him is cute dickhead?.
“umm. Ow?” And Frank doesn’t really know why he made his original statement into a question.
“shit. I really am sorry. That’s twice today. Fuck, I feel like a dickhead,” a cute one though Frank adds to himself but then remembers hey, I am meant to be angry. Let the wrath begin cute dickhead!.
“Yeah. Well. Please don’t make a habit out of it. I’d rather stay un-bruised today if that’s alright,” Frank thinks he sounded mean and that’s good, but then he realises he’s smiling and cute dickhead laughs and smiles back and fuck off with the weird feeling in the stomach, please dear god I do not like it!.
“I will try and contain myself,” and with that, he walks off.
cute dickhead just walks off. like it was nothing. Like it was fucking nothing!. Frank sighs, more or so huffs to himself, grabs his coffee, stuffs his wallet back into his jean pocket and is about to leave when the door chime goes again but this time Frank is ready. Oh yes. Frank is ready. He jumps back, does a karate move and makes that weird chinese noise with his mouth like they do in the movies.
Not really. He thinks it in his head though. All he does is step back. But the scene in his head is much cooler.
“Hey Mikey!” Frank smiles as he recognises the person coming in through the door.
“hey, Frank! Frank! Shit! Hi!” woah.
“I don’t think you need more coffee dude, you’re fucking edgy enough,”
“No. I. You. You just surprised me. Ha,” Mikey looks like he is about to shit a fucking cow or something because his face is contorted into something that looks painful. Maybe he’s just really constipated. Frank can sympathise with that.
“Want some laxatives?” may as well put it out there.
“What?” Mikey’s face contorts from pain into disgust and confusion and ok, so maybe he’s not constipated. At least Frank offered.
“Huh, what? Nothing,” Frank smirks and looks behind Mikey to see cute dickhead staring straight at him and why does he have to catch his gaze. Why?
Mikey turns to see what Frank is looking at and turns back, wild eyed and frantic looking.
“seriously Mikey, no coffee ok, I really go against caffeine for you right now,” Frank sighs looking back at Mikey with a smile.
“Ummm, yeah, no. just. Ummm. You. Ummm, fuck,” Frank frowns.
“you ok?”
“Yeah. Well. Uhhh. I’ll see you later dude,” Mikey kind of smiles, but it looks strained. Really strained. Looks like it kinda hurts. he’s constipated Frank decides.
“yeah, see ya later. Dude,” Frank walks out with coffee in hand and a confused and yet amused look smacked onto his face.
what an eventful day.
***
“Are you telling me you’ve got two fucking crushes now?” Frank rolls his eyes at Ray because god sometimes he can be thick. It’s the hair. He swears.
“They’re. Not fucking crushes. I just. Like them. I don’t, fucking, obsess or anything,”
“Dude, a crush aint an obsession,” fuck you Ray.
“Well, Radio Man, I just like his personality and shit right? And cute dickhead, well. I like his looks, because he’s. fucking cute,” Ray just looks at him, no expression. Nothing. robot!.
“You’re the weirdest fuck I know, you know that right?” Frank grins really wide, it kinda hurts his cheeks but oh well. He’s pretty sure he looks cute doing it.
“And you love me for that,”
“oh. Yes. Frank. You make my heart. Jump. Or some shit,” Ray’s voice is very monotonous and that is not nice because Frank was being serious. Kinda.
“Asshole,”
“Schechter alert,”
“where? Where? where!” Frank scopes out the cubicle they’re in but alas, there is no Schechter to be seen.
“Here,” Brian really does have a tendancy to make Frank jump and make his heart beat faster. But not in a good way. And just where the fuck did he pop out from?!
“Fuck me Brian.”
“No thanks Iero,” He’s only saying that because he’s with Mikey, other wise he’d totally have me, totally do me over the desk, all over my work while Ray watches and oh my fuck what the fuck am I thinking?! That’s fucking disgusting and I think I am going to. Hurl..
Frank visibly cringes, gags and dry reaches. Too much disgusting images stuffed into his head at once. Too much.
“You’re not going to be sick on me again are you Iero?” Brian’s face turns into worry as he steps back a few paces.
“No, I just. Never mind,”
“Right, anyway, do you two have the edited reports done yet? They were meant to be handed into my office an hour ago,” Brian’s eyebrow does that quirky thing The Rock does. Yeah that thing. Totally amuses Frank. Why can’t he do it? It’d look way sweet on him.
“eh,” the only noise that comes from Frank’s mouth as he gathers up his work as long as Ray’s and passes it to Schechter.
“Right, uhhh. Ok, just. Get back to work. Ok?”
Frank nor Ray get a chance to answer as Brian has already turned and walked away. Ray bites his lip and looks at Frank and if Frank wasn’t so down to earth, he’d think Ray was being seductive. Although nothing about that look is seductive. Nothing.
“One day Brian is so going to fire you,”
“I already told you Toro, he loves me too much to do that,”
“Right, yeah. Ok,”
Frank’s already ordered his coffee. And now he is waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. And jesus fucking Christ he is still waiting. fuck this he thinks before going over to a table and sitting down. It’s still inside so they can see him when it’s done but there was no way he was just going to stand there waiting for a coffee. It’s not even that busy in the shop. Ok. That’s a lie. It’s fucking packed full. Kids everywhere. Teenagers everywhere. Adults everywhere. Saggy elderly in some places. This store needs to be bigger.
Frank’s gotta listen to Radio Man tonight. He didn’t last night. No. he does not count listening through the wall as listening. But he needs his fix. It’s almost like withdrawal. From a person. Over a radio. Who he doesn’t know what looks like. It’s still counted as withdrawal. Can you even have a withdrawal from a person? Or is it just called missing someone? You can have withdrawal from cigarettes. And that means that you miss it. Kind of. But then saying you’re having withdrawal over a Radio Person, who you’ve never met nor seen. Sounds kind of obsessive. And Frank is not obsessive. No. he’s not.
“sir, sir. SIR!” Frank jumps a little and smiles a little at the lady in front of him.
“uhh. Yes?”
“your coffee is on the front counter,”
“oh thank you,”
Frank heads up to the counter, pushing past what seems like fucking pro wrestling people before finally. finally. He gets to the marbled counter where is coffee his standing with his name written on the side.
“Was it just the one sir?” Frank looks up and is met with a Hulk Hogan look a like and woah, what the fuck is with the wrestling agenda today?.
“uhh. N-yeah. What?” seriously. This. Thing. Looks like Hulk Hogan, and Frank is kind of wanting to ask for an autograph because holyfuckingshit does he look like him.
“Coffee, was it just the one?”
“oh yeah, sorry,”
“$6.95 thanks,” Frank hands over his card and signs the receipt before taking his coffee and walking carefully towards the door.
Big wrestling like people + Cramped space and hot coffee = burning Frank. The door is in sight. The escape route out of this compressed wrestling meeting is only a few feet away. And then.
“SIR! Sir! Ummm, FRANK IERO,” Frank stops. Frowns. Turns. And stares blankly at Hulk Hogan.
“uhhh… yes?”
“you forgot your card,” the massive Neanderthal walks over and hands over Frank’s Visa. woops.
“Thanks man,” Neanderthal Hulk Hogan smiles and walks away.
Now Frank needs to put his coffee down so he can get his wallet out and put his card back in it. And no he can not do it while holding his coffee. That is called multi-tasking. Frank does not multi-task. Ever.
There’s a free table near the door, so he stalks over to it and places his coffee down before grabbing his worn wallet and slipping the hard plastic debt creator into its place. Frank can hear the bell chime on the door but soon that is ignored as he is met with the corner of the door whacking him in his shoulder and back, tumbling him forwards and jesus fucking Christ! That fucking hurt! Again!.
“fucking OW!” Franks voice goes up an octave and that is a manly thing to do.
“oh shit! I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” Frank turns, his angry face on and he’s ready to pounce but what the fuck?.
The person in front of him is staring wide eyed and Frank feels like a fucking strangled cat, again with the animal cruelty reference Frank, maybe mom was right about going to see a doctor when I was younger, because the guy in front of him. well. The guy in front of him is cute dickhead?.
“umm. Ow?” And Frank doesn’t really know why he made his original statement into a question.
“shit. I really am sorry. That’s twice today. Fuck, I feel like a dickhead,” a cute one though Frank adds to himself but then remembers hey, I am meant to be angry. Let the wrath begin cute dickhead!.
“Yeah. Well. Please don’t make a habit out of it. I’d rather stay un-bruised today if that’s alright,” Frank thinks he sounded mean and that’s good, but then he realises he’s smiling and cute dickhead laughs and smiles back and fuck off with the weird feeling in the stomach, please dear god I do not like it!.
“I will try and contain myself,” and with that, he walks off.
cute dickhead just walks off. like it was nothing. Like it was fucking nothing!. Frank sighs, more or so huffs to himself, grabs his coffee, stuffs his wallet back into his jean pocket and is about to leave when the door chime goes again but this time Frank is ready. Oh yes. Frank is ready. He jumps back, does a karate move and makes that weird chinese noise with his mouth like they do in the movies.
Not really. He thinks it in his head though. All he does is step back. But the scene in his head is much cooler.
“Hey Mikey!” Frank smiles as he recognises the person coming in through the door.
“hey, Frank! Frank! Shit! Hi!” woah.
“I don’t think you need more coffee dude, you’re fucking edgy enough,”
“No. I. You. You just surprised me. Ha,” Mikey looks like he is about to shit a fucking cow or something because his face is contorted into something that looks painful. Maybe he’s just really constipated. Frank can sympathise with that.
“Want some laxatives?” may as well put it out there.
“What?” Mikey’s face contorts from pain into disgust and confusion and ok, so maybe he’s not constipated. At least Frank offered.
“Huh, what? Nothing,” Frank smirks and looks behind Mikey to see cute dickhead staring straight at him and why does he have to catch his gaze. Why?
Mikey turns to see what Frank is looking at and turns back, wild eyed and frantic looking.
“seriously Mikey, no coffee ok, I really go against caffeine for you right now,” Frank sighs looking back at Mikey with a smile.
“Ummm, yeah, no. just. Ummm. You. Ummm, fuck,” Frank frowns.
“you ok?”
“Yeah. Well. Uhhh. I’ll see you later dude,” Mikey kind of smiles, but it looks strained. Really strained. Looks like it kinda hurts. he’s constipated Frank decides.
“yeah, see ya later. Dude,” Frank walks out with coffee in hand and a confused and yet amused look smacked onto his face.
what an eventful day.
***
“Are you telling me you’ve got two fucking crushes now?” Frank rolls his eyes at Ray because god sometimes he can be thick. It’s the hair. He swears.
“They’re. Not fucking crushes. I just. Like them. I don’t, fucking, obsess or anything,”
“Dude, a crush aint an obsession,” fuck you Ray.
“Well, Radio Man, I just like his personality and shit right? And cute dickhead, well. I like his looks, because he’s. fucking cute,” Ray just looks at him, no expression. Nothing. robot!.
“You’re the weirdest fuck I know, you know that right?” Frank grins really wide, it kinda hurts his cheeks but oh well. He’s pretty sure he looks cute doing it.
“And you love me for that,”
“oh. Yes. Frank. You make my heart. Jump. Or some shit,” Ray’s voice is very monotonous and that is not nice because Frank was being serious. Kinda.
“Asshole,”
“Schechter alert,”
“where? Where? where!” Frank scopes out the cubicle they’re in but alas, there is no Schechter to be seen.
“Here,” Brian really does have a tendancy to make Frank jump and make his heart beat faster. But not in a good way. And just where the fuck did he pop out from?!
“Fuck me Brian.”
“No thanks Iero,” He’s only saying that because he’s with Mikey, other wise he’d totally have me, totally do me over the desk, all over my work while Ray watches and oh my fuck what the fuck am I thinking?! That’s fucking disgusting and I think I am going to. Hurl..
Frank visibly cringes, gags and dry reaches. Too much disgusting images stuffed into his head at once. Too much.
“You’re not going to be sick on me again are you Iero?” Brian’s face turns into worry as he steps back a few paces.
“No, I just. Never mind,”
“Right, anyway, do you two have the edited reports done yet? They were meant to be handed into my office an hour ago,” Brian’s eyebrow does that quirky thing The Rock does. Yeah that thing. Totally amuses Frank. Why can’t he do it? It’d look way sweet on him.
“eh,” the only noise that comes from Frank’s mouth as he gathers up his work as long as Ray’s and passes it to Schechter.
“Right, uhhh. Ok, just. Get back to work. Ok?”
Frank nor Ray get a chance to answer as Brian has already turned and walked away. Ray bites his lip and looks at Frank and if Frank wasn’t so down to earth, he’d think Ray was being seductive. Although nothing about that look is seductive. Nothing.
“One day Brian is so going to fire you,”
“I already told you Toro, he loves me too much to do that,”
“Right, yeah. Ok,”
♠ ♠ ♠
i wrote this last night, un-beta'd so give me some leniancy. haha see. i can't spell.hope this is alright for you guys. i will start writing more in about 30mins so i can update again maybe late tonight or tomorrow.
COMMENTS??
xxx jess