‹ Prequel: Frankie Fever
Frankie Fever: The Sequel
Filth
August 15th. Twelve O’ clock at night.
Everyone’s asleep. Well. . . not quite everyone. Most people were asleep. Most of the security guards were asleep. The boys, on the other hand. The filthy little criminal teenage boys. They were active. And they were sex-starved. In desperate need of some form of release. Most of them had grown bored of their hands. It just wasn’t the same. Plus, you had to do all the hard work yourself.
Somewhere in the building, a seventeen year old boy was curled up into a tight ball, rocking himself back and forth. His chest of drawers was blocking his door. Someone was kicking and banging at his door. He stayed silent, biting his lip. He was screwed if they got in. Voices were crooning to him through the door.
“Iero,” It called softly “You’d better let me in, boy.”
So far, the boy had managed to avoid all sexual advances made on him. He wasn’t stupid. He’d heard all the rumours about places like this. His ability to avoid all advances made him all the more appealing. The others wanted to see what he could do. They’d heard about his court case. They knew his story. They knew what he had done.
The boy covered his ears and closed his eyes tight. They kicked the door again. He was sat, leaning against his dresser. He wanted his best friend here with him. It was lonely here. And they all wanted him to suck them. To touch them. To lie down and be dominated by them. He was alone. And they’d laugh at him because he was on the antidepressants.
He looked down at the framed photo in his lap. A photo of him and his best friend. It wasn’t the best photo ever taken. Someone had snapped it while they were at a party. He was stood, hands in pocket with his hood up, a smirk on his face while his friend knelt up from the floor, leaning against him, a confused look on his face. He had a few others of them both around the room. His favourite was his half of a strip of photos they’d taken in a photo booth at a travelling fair. That was blu-tacked to the wall where he could see it. Most of the photos were. This boy was the only one who ever came to visit him from his old life.
“Iero, come on, I wanna’ see what that pretty little mouth of yours can do!”
He ignored the calls.
No one came to visit apart from his best friend. Not even his father came to visit. He hadn’t seen his dad since the court case. His mom probably didn’t even know he was in this place. Like she’d care anyway. She’d left him when he was eight for Christ’s sake. And she hadn’t even bothered to keep in touch, let alone pay child support. He recalled her crying ‘Why should I pay for him? I didn’t even want him in the first place.’ before she left.
No one had ever really cared before this sweet, shy boy sat in his seat that fateful day. Sat in his seat and mumbled his apologies, prepared to move. He’d shaken his head and sat in the seat next to him with a smile. This kid was alone and scared. He’d introduced himself as ‘Gerard’.
Gerard had changed a lot since those days. His confidence had increased by ten million. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was anymore. He didn’t make apologies for everything he said or did anymore. The boy had taught him well. He looked good these days. Very good. He’d picked himself up very quickly after the boy had broken his heart. He still regretted doing it to this day. He didn’t want to hurt his friend like that, but he had to. Gerard deserved better than him. He had to get out there and find someone more worthy and not waste his time on his loser friend shut up in a big locked building. These days, they were ‘just friends’. They’d made a mutual decision that it was best for them both.
No matter how unique and special the ‘relationship’ they’d had was, it wasn’t good for either of them. They still had their special friendship, though. A once or twice a week visit to catch up and see how the other was doing. Gerard had become the boy’s only form of escape. Hearing news from the outside world made him feel less isolated and more involved. He’d begun to need Gerard.
The one week when Gerard hadn’t managed to visit because he was away at a family gathering, the boy had nearly had a breakdown. It didn’t feel right. It was all different. It led to one of his ‘fits of anxiety’. He’d turned into a nut job and not even noticed it until that day. He was scared without his weekly visit from Gerard. He had nothing to look forward to without him.
He’d often asked himself if that was why he valued Gerard so highly as a friend. Let’s face it, his home life wasn’t amazing. Single parent family, the parent in question didn’t particularly care what he did anyway, alcoholic parent. This was a boy who had learned to keep his emotions under control and hidden from the rest of the world. Very much left to his own devices yet everything he did was wrong. He always thought he’d done quite well, considering he’d had no real guidance or role model - at least, not until he discovered rock music.
Gerard became another form of escapism for him. A healthier one too. Better than the drink, parties, cigarettes, sex and pot. He looked forward to seeing Gerard and felt genuinely happy with him. He’d never had a friend so close to him before. It was a good feeling. A friend he could share stuff with and have a good laugh with. So, yeah, perhaps they’d become a little too close but it was fun while it lasted. And Gerard was a damn good lay. Best he’d ever had. Of course, he’d never told him that. It was something he’d take to the grave.
In fact, he and Gerard never spoke of that night between them. Neither knew how to approach the subject. Realistically, they needed to sit down together and have a long talk about it instead of dancing awkwardly around the subject like they did. But they never did.
“C’mon, baby, you know I’ll get in sooner or later. The longer you make me wait, the rougher I’ll be!”
The boy covered his ears once more and allowed his mind to wander to the happy times with his best friend.
Everyone’s asleep. Well. . . not quite everyone. Most people were asleep. Most of the security guards were asleep. The boys, on the other hand. The filthy little criminal teenage boys. They were active. And they were sex-starved. In desperate need of some form of release. Most of them had grown bored of their hands. It just wasn’t the same. Plus, you had to do all the hard work yourself.
Somewhere in the building, a seventeen year old boy was curled up into a tight ball, rocking himself back and forth. His chest of drawers was blocking his door. Someone was kicking and banging at his door. He stayed silent, biting his lip. He was screwed if they got in. Voices were crooning to him through the door.
“Iero,” It called softly “You’d better let me in, boy.”
So far, the boy had managed to avoid all sexual advances made on him. He wasn’t stupid. He’d heard all the rumours about places like this. His ability to avoid all advances made him all the more appealing. The others wanted to see what he could do. They’d heard about his court case. They knew his story. They knew what he had done.
The boy covered his ears and closed his eyes tight. They kicked the door again. He was sat, leaning against his dresser. He wanted his best friend here with him. It was lonely here. And they all wanted him to suck them. To touch them. To lie down and be dominated by them. He was alone. And they’d laugh at him because he was on the antidepressants.
He looked down at the framed photo in his lap. A photo of him and his best friend. It wasn’t the best photo ever taken. Someone had snapped it while they were at a party. He was stood, hands in pocket with his hood up, a smirk on his face while his friend knelt up from the floor, leaning against him, a confused look on his face. He had a few others of them both around the room. His favourite was his half of a strip of photos they’d taken in a photo booth at a travelling fair. That was blu-tacked to the wall where he could see it. Most of the photos were. This boy was the only one who ever came to visit him from his old life.
“Iero, come on, I wanna’ see what that pretty little mouth of yours can do!”
He ignored the calls.
No one came to visit apart from his best friend. Not even his father came to visit. He hadn’t seen his dad since the court case. His mom probably didn’t even know he was in this place. Like she’d care anyway. She’d left him when he was eight for Christ’s sake. And she hadn’t even bothered to keep in touch, let alone pay child support. He recalled her crying ‘Why should I pay for him? I didn’t even want him in the first place.’ before she left.
No one had ever really cared before this sweet, shy boy sat in his seat that fateful day. Sat in his seat and mumbled his apologies, prepared to move. He’d shaken his head and sat in the seat next to him with a smile. This kid was alone and scared. He’d introduced himself as ‘Gerard’.
Gerard had changed a lot since those days. His confidence had increased by ten million. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was anymore. He didn’t make apologies for everything he said or did anymore. The boy had taught him well. He looked good these days. Very good. He’d picked himself up very quickly after the boy had broken his heart. He still regretted doing it to this day. He didn’t want to hurt his friend like that, but he had to. Gerard deserved better than him. He had to get out there and find someone more worthy and not waste his time on his loser friend shut up in a big locked building. These days, they were ‘just friends’. They’d made a mutual decision that it was best for them both.
No matter how unique and special the ‘relationship’ they’d had was, it wasn’t good for either of them. They still had their special friendship, though. A once or twice a week visit to catch up and see how the other was doing. Gerard had become the boy’s only form of escape. Hearing news from the outside world made him feel less isolated and more involved. He’d begun to need Gerard.
The one week when Gerard hadn’t managed to visit because he was away at a family gathering, the boy had nearly had a breakdown. It didn’t feel right. It was all different. It led to one of his ‘fits of anxiety’. He’d turned into a nut job and not even noticed it until that day. He was scared without his weekly visit from Gerard. He had nothing to look forward to without him.
He’d often asked himself if that was why he valued Gerard so highly as a friend. Let’s face it, his home life wasn’t amazing. Single parent family, the parent in question didn’t particularly care what he did anyway, alcoholic parent. This was a boy who had learned to keep his emotions under control and hidden from the rest of the world. Very much left to his own devices yet everything he did was wrong. He always thought he’d done quite well, considering he’d had no real guidance or role model - at least, not until he discovered rock music.
Gerard became another form of escapism for him. A healthier one too. Better than the drink, parties, cigarettes, sex and pot. He looked forward to seeing Gerard and felt genuinely happy with him. He’d never had a friend so close to him before. It was a good feeling. A friend he could share stuff with and have a good laugh with. So, yeah, perhaps they’d become a little too close but it was fun while it lasted. And Gerard was a damn good lay. Best he’d ever had. Of course, he’d never told him that. It was something he’d take to the grave.
In fact, he and Gerard never spoke of that night between them. Neither knew how to approach the subject. Realistically, they needed to sit down together and have a long talk about it instead of dancing awkwardly around the subject like they did. But they never did.
“C’mon, baby, you know I’ll get in sooner or later. The longer you make me wait, the rougher I’ll be!”
The boy covered his ears once more and allowed his mind to wander to the happy times with his best friend.
♠ ♠ ♠
Likey?I'd still love to hear what you guys are expecting from this. Are Frank and Gerard too wrong for each other? Could it work? Will Mikey get that job as a go-go dancer?
Let me know! You know what to do =]
xo