What the Frank

{Third person’s P.O.V…}

Frank entered the house, slamming the door behind him. He was angry enough to kill someone, but he wanted to break down crying like a child.

“How did it go?” His mother asked from the kitchen. She could instantly tell that it was him entering the house. Frank didn’t respond as he took Gabriel from his carrier and laid him on the couch.

“Frankie?” His mother said once she realized that he didn’t respond. Frank sat down on the couch beside his son and placed his face in his hands.

“Honey?” Frank’s mother said as she walked into the living room.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, worriedly, as she rushed over to him and placed her hand on his back. She was always worrying about Frank, ready to come to his aid whenever he needed it. Frank didn’t respond—he couldn’t, on account of his intense sobbing. He could barely breathe because he was crying to hard.

“Sweetie?” His mother started to rub his back, while still trying to coax and answer from her only son. Frank only sniffled, trying to prepare himself to answer her question.

“Honey, tell me what’s wrong.” She said as she knelt down beside him. Frank raised his head and turned to look at her, his eyes and nose bright red from crying. He tried to say something, but it only came out as unintelligible babbling. Frank knew that his mother couldn’t possible understand what he said, so he took a deep breath to get himself prepared to speak properly.

“Gerard explained why he did what he did, and…” he trailed off, almost starting to cry again. His mother handed his a box of tissues to wipe his tears away.

“Go on.” His mother said, curious as to what he had to say.

“W-we should talk about this in private.” His mother was confused, but she nodded her head anyway. She took him by the hand and led him up the stairs to her room. Once they got there, they saw that Arnold was laying on the bed, reading some sort of manual for car engines. Frank and his mother stared at the man, hoping that he would leave. He only looked up at them and smiled. Frank’s mother rolled her eyes and cleared her throat very loudly, hoping that he would take the hint and leave. He didn’t. He only looked up at her, confused. Frank’s mother sighed as she quickly walked over to her husband and angrily whispered something in her ear. Arnold sighed and stomped out of the room, grumbling something under his breath.

“So,” his mother said as she shut and locked the door.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked as she sat on the bed. She patted the spot next to her, singling for Frank to sit down beside her. Frank swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking.

“I told Gerard that…that I almost cheated on him while we were still together.” Frank didn’t look up at his mother, he was too ashamed.

“With who?” Frank’s mother was astonished. She would never imagine that her son would do such a thing; she thought that he was better than that.

“Stanley.” Frank started to tremble as he spoke.

“I-I almost kissed him, but then you walked in. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t walk in.” Frank’s mother sat in silence, staring at her son. She was feeling a mixture of disgust, shame, and anger washed over her body. She couldn’t believe that her Franklin not only thought about infidelity, but with his own step-brother.

Frank looked up at his mother, expecting for her to say something. She didn’t, she only sat there, stone-faced. The lack of communication made Frank hate himself. He, too, was disgusted, ashamed, and furious at himself. Frank let out a nervous sigh as he pushed a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“Mom?” Frank said, trying to get his mother to speak, or even make a sound. She just sat there, staring a Frank. Frank could feel his mother’s eyes burning a hole in his head, into his soul; he didn’t like it.

“You…what?” Frank’s mother was checking to see if she had heard her son correctly. She needed to hear it again in order for it to sink in. Frank looked down at his lap before responding.

“I-I almost cheated on Gerard with Stanley.” That was it.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Frank?! That’s your goddamn step-brother! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” His mother screamed as she jumped up from the bed. Frank was frightened; he sunk back onto the bed.

“I wasn’t going to do anything with him! I’m not some kind of whore!” Frank shouted back, just as loud. His mother laughed before responding.

“Really, Frank? Do you really think that getting pregnant at 16 and cheating on your fucking boyfriend doesn’t constitute as being a whore?” She didn’t mean for that to slip out. Frank just sat there, emotionless.

“I-I—“He didn’t know what to say, what emotion to have.

“Oh God, Frank—“His mother didn’t know what to say either. They just stood there, looking at each other, waiting for each other to say something. His mother rubbed her temples before trying to apologize, but it was too late. Frank was already running down the stairs with tears in his eyes.

“Wait!” His mother screamed after him, but it was no use; Frank was leaving. Frank ran out of the door, and down the street. He just wanted all of his problems to disappear. Frank continued to run until his legs gave out. In a sense, Frank was running away from his problems: Gerard, Gabriel, his mother—everything. Frank started to vomit as he collapsed to the ground. He looked up, not knowing where he was, and he was fucking glad.