Home Alone

Frank wakes up at 6am to his cellphone ringing. It's day 13. With out opening his eyes, he reaches onto the ground and feels around for his phone. When he finds it, he brings it close to his face and squints to see who it is.

He flips it open and mumbles, "Yeah?"

"Frank."

"That's me."

"Shit. I. Can you talk? I need to talk."

"Gerard, how did you get this number?"

"You called me on it yesterday."

Even though they're supposedly 'friends' now, the lack of insult after a stupid question like that worries Frank a little. He sits up in his bed and rubs violently at his eyes with both hands, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear. He's opening his eyes real wide and watching everything fade from black, back to normal, when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Um. Nothing, I just want to talk."

Frank's jaw drops a little, and he brings it over to one side in annoyance. "You woke me up this early just to talk about nothing?"

"It's six, Frank. That's not really early."

"Are you crazy? That's very early. Plus, like, six hours of sleep isn't enough for me. I'm a growing boy."

"I hate to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure you're done growing."

Frank rolls his eyes and asks, "Will you just tell me why you fucking called me?"

Gerard sighs, and then says quietly, "Well, like. My dad just called me. And, I don't know where he was, but he wasn't at his house. It was loud. And I guess I'm just worried about him, but I'm sort of angry too. I just. I hate when he does this. It's six in the fucking morning, and he's still out somewhere. He works late in the day, ya know? Like, from 4pm to midnight or something. So. Yeah, he does this."

"Wait. You're worried about him because he's still awake at 6am?" Frank asks, confused.

"He's drunk. He called me, and he was shit-faced, and he's not home, which means he'll drive. And, I mean, he's pretty good at driving drunk, like, as good as someone can be, but still. I'm sure he'll be fine. It's not the first time he'd drive like this, you know? But. I don't know."

"Oh," Frank whispers, not sure what to say. Frank's dad left before Frank was even born. He decided that beer and cocaine were more important than Frank and his mom, apparently. So Frank doesn't really know what to say to Gerard. He wants to help, really, but he feels kind of awkward. He doesn't know what it's like to have a dad, or what it's like to worry about someone being drunk. His mom doesn't really drink, only on special occasions, really. So he can't relate to this situation at all, and he doesn't want to make it worse.

Gerard scoffs. "That's all you got to say? 'Oh'?"

"Well I don't really know what to say," Frank says softly.

"Well thanks, you're a lot of help."

A look of confusion crosses over Frank's face and he says, "Gerard, I'm sorry. I want to help, but I don't know what you want me to say. I can't tell you I know how you feel, and I can't promise you everything will be okay." Frank always hates when people lie to him when he's upset. He doesn't want to hear that you know how he feels, because you don't. And no one can ever promise that everything will be okay, because everything will never be okay, there will always be problems. He figures Gerard will feel this way too, so he tells him the truth.

"Wow," Gerard says, scoffing again. This time it sounds different though, like he's maybe biting his lip or something. "Well, you know just how to bring up my spirits. Thanks Frank, I appreciate it. I feel so much better now, knowing that I'm alone and there's no hope."

Or not...

"That's not what I meant!" Frank says quickly. He is really, really fucking this up.

"It's what you said," Gerard says angrily.

"No! No, okay, I just. You're not alone. What about Mikey? And, there is hope, I just can't promise you anything, you know?"

"Mikey hates our dad. He hardly knows him. He left when Mikey was too little. I go to visit him, but Mikey stays here with mom."

"I'm sorry," Frank says again. Because, really? What else can he say?

"And, ya know, sometimes people just want to be reassured. It's not really a lie if they know it's not true. Sometimes just hearing someone else say that it will be okay is enough."

Frank swallows and shakes his head at himself. "I'm sorry, Gerard."

"Yeah. Well. That doesn't really help me either, does it?"

Frank lifts up his arm that isn't holding his phone and his mouth falls open in shock. "Gerard, everything I say is wrong! I don't know what to do!"

"What ever, Frank. Forget it."

"Why didn't you just call one of your friends?! Why'd you have to call me?" And it maybe sounds a little more annoyed than Frank even feels. And is definitely giving the wrong message, because he wants to be considered one of Gerard's friends. I suck at life.

"Wow. Sorry I bothered you. They're just both on vacation, since they're brothers and all."

Frank groans and doesn't say anything. He gives up. Gerard doesn't even say 'bye', just scoffs once again and hangs up. Frank lets out a loud, strained, frustrated noise and throws his phone across the room. It hits his wall and falls to the ground. He stares at it for a while, just thinking, and then gets up to pick it up. He doesn't see himself falling back asleep after this, so he just goes downstairs to watch movies all day.

****

At about eight pm, Frank's cell phone beeps, telling him he has a new text message. He picks it up from beside him without taking his eyes off his movie, but then looks down after he flips it open to see what the message says.

'Still alive?' It's from Gerard, of course. Wow. Can't even be bothered to walk here and ask it, now.

'No.' Frank replies, hoping it'll make Gerard at least smile.

He's pretty sure it doesn't. 'Good,' Gerard sends back.

Frank thinks about leaving him alone, since he's obviously not happy with Frank, but decides to ask about his dad anyway.

Gerard's response to the question is, 'He's fine. Now leave me alone.'

'I'm sorry,'Frank sends, feeling like complete shit.

Gerard doesn't answer. Frank tilts his head back on the couch and stares at the ceiling; sort of listening to the movie, but mostly just thinking. Not even 24 hours with Gerard as a friend, and he's already fucked it up. Frank looks at his cell again, just to make sure he didn't miss the text-message-alert sound.

He didn't.

Frank stands up and chucks his cell phone at the wall across from him. He apologizes to the phone in his head, it's not your fault, then turns to head into the kitchen.

He's going to stay up until one in the morning eating Popsicles and watching more movies.