City Lights

With the sharp bitterness of the mid-winter season’s fast-paced snowfall still showering down upon his stoicism, knifing at the porcelain features of his despondent expression, Gerard continued to muse over whether or not the gentle tingling sensation coating his lips was actually the aftermath of Frank’s connection, or just a part of his imagination. Reaching out a skeletal hand, his fingers paled from the cynical cold, he fumbled his car keys into the car door to eventually wrench it open, and plunge into the dark comforts of his vehicle, then slam the door shut, creating a small barrier between himself and the frozen outside world. He watched the snow fall outside for a moment, and collect in the narrow gap between the hood of the car and the windshield. Just a bit farther up ahead, he could see the visible torrent of a blizzard in the air, illuminated by the white-yellow glow of the streetlight that towered over it all. Blinking long and hard, for a moment, he let out a silent sigh of exhaustion through his nose, releasing a brief cloud of his own freezing breath.

From where he sat inside the confines of his darkened car, he found himself almost wanting to just sit there. He wanted to stay where he was, and continue to watch the snowfall, and the way it was exquisitely visible underneath the fluorescent lights. Despite his car’s heater not working; his hunger for dinner due to his lack of any lunch or adequate breakfast, and the need to go home and get some actual sleep--he still only wanted to sit there. Sit there and inhabit the frosted air of the deadening winter.

But he knew he couldn’t. From his hunger and alcoholic breakfast, he was gifted a headache, which he was fully willing to treat with any painkiller that contained sedatives. He needed to eat; he needed to sleep; he needed to be dead for just one night.

Starting his car and driving into town, he entered traffic with another blown-out sigh. In the rearview mirror, his reflection was only slightly visible as he crept through late night traffic. A paled silhouette stood out, every time he would pass underneath a ray of brightness that protruded from an overhead streetlight, letting his features become echoed in the rearview mirror, more clearly. His replication in the glass exhibited nothing more than a man of apathy, from hair that constantly uncombed, to eyes that had always held too much worn-down memory. He blinked slowly, and let the silence of the car drape around him like velvet.

Pressing his foot down on the gas to speed up only somewhat, he had made it to main street in an amount of time that was not actually too much faster than usual, unlike what he had hoped. But even when he had practically reached home, he still quickly found himself stuck in another small blip of error in the path of transportation. Abruptly forcing his foot back onto the brake to avoid a tailgate collision, he instinctively gripped the steering wheel tighter and tensed up, for a moment, before calming back down, with a scowl flourishing his face. Glaring at the back of the lurking car in front of him, he closed his eyes yet again, before letting out a low groan and laying back a bit to rest the back of his skull up against the headrest. Staring into the darkness behind his eyelids, he allowed the atmosphere of the world around him engulf his senses; the sounds of cars beeping their horns or driving past him. Opening his eyes after a moment, his vision wandered boringly over to the side of the street, looking at the stores. Once his eyes set upon the convenience store, the knowledge of the food within its walls only reminded him antagonistically of his irking hunger and headache. Leering at the fluorescently-lit windows of the store for a couple of more moments, he saw that the traffic was beginning to restart, and as the car in front of him moved forward, he took advantage of the extra space to pull over and finally exit.

The second he stepped inside of the convenience store, he felt shivers run up his spine from the sudden temperature change. He stood there for only a second before he began to wander towards the shelves that stacked themselves high with food he already knew was unhealthy. But his hunger, and the pain in his mind that it was causing, deterred him from thinking otherwise. He squinted his eyes repeatedly underneath the annoyingly bright lights of the store as he grabbed at a bag of chips and a candy bar, then quickly seconding that with an energy drink. He approached the counter with the artifacts under his wings, and did not wait to see if the cashier was paying attention before he carelessly dumped the contents out in front of her. He watched the cashier jump a bit at the sudden thumping noises, then quickly collect herself enough to start scanning each product.

“And…a pack of Marlboros…please,” Gerard said quietly, examining the cashier and her bored expression as she swiftly reached up to a compartment of shelves above her, to grab one box of cigarettes. Taking the cigarettes from her, he slipped them into his coat pocket for later use, then produced enough fives from his wallet to pay for his poor excuse for a dinner.

“Smoking kills, you know.”

Looking down at the junk food he had grabbed for his supper, and the young cashier’s black-painted fingers as she bagged everything, he blinked for a moment, then scoffed at the comment.

“I’m planning on it,” Gerard heard himself mutter, not even knowing himself if it was loud enough for the person to hear. Silently shrugging it off, he grabbed his bag and energy drink and took one step sideways to turn around, but seemed to freeze mid-step, when the person’s voice suddenly triggered an odd consciousness.

It felt shocking at first; it subconsciously reminded him of the adrenalin rush that he would experience when waking up too late to get to work on time: A bout of excitement ran through his veins, being felt even in his fingertips, as his expression suddenly lit up and he jerked wildly around to face him.

“Really…”

Before he was even able to control himself, he could feel his eyes grow wide in anticipation, the second the he saw the striking red color of the dilapidated Converse shoes.

Standing there in front of the register, he let go of the worry that he probably looked like a moron, just standing there, staring at another man’s shoes. He seemed to be too stunned to move from his spot. Instead, he let his vision gradually travel up from the shoes, to the scratched orange-red end of the white cane, that stood patiently next to the unusual shoes; he then quickly saw the ripped, dark jeans, which was followed by the layers upon layers of shirts underneath the single hooded sweatshirt that would never be adequate enough for the weather surrounding them.

“Frank!” Gerard felt his foot slip as he stumbled back somewhat against the counter. He gripped onto the edge of the countertop as he gawked at a humble-appearing Frank before him. He gaped at him, for a small moment, before he saw the wide grin spread across Frank’s lips.

“You remembered.” Frank smiled widely. Seeing his teeth as Frank smiled, Gerard seemed to feel every word he’d wanted to respond with, evaporate into thin nothingness, and wither back down his throat.

“Uh…heh, yeah.” He could barely even listen to himself speak; he’d already felt embarrassed. He swallowed unintentionally, feeling the shyness somehow convert itself into something physical, to pile up in his throat and attempt to suffocate him. He’d almost not wanted to look at Frank, as he had expected Frank to be giving him a strange look, but once his eyes had fastened onto Frank’s vivid, but vacant orbs, he found himself unable to look at anything else; the way that Frank had managed to let his eyes catch onto Gerard, but only stare gently at what might have been either Gerard’s nose or neck, never looking directly back into him. It felt odd, in a sense that Gerard could not place his finger on exactly. But he loved it.

“I knew you wouldn’t forget,” Frank went on, continuing to grin as he stepped forward somewhat, letting the white cane subtly guide him around Gerard, so that he was able to pass the small bag of dog food he’d been carrying, over to the cashier.

“Uh, yeah--no…I didn’t.” The second he’d heard the words slip past his lips, he quickly felt the same kind of humiliation he’d unfortunately experienced back during his high school years numerous times, when puberty seemed to infect everything aspect of body, like a disease.

Frank simply laughed. Gerard listened to it, and almost felt hurt, until he realized how the laugh actually sounded; gentle and benign, as if Frank were trying to help Gerard ease of his anxiety, rather than simply mock his nervousness. Realizing this, he’d felt as if it were an actual cure for embarrassment, and feeling somewhat more relaxed than he did previously, he allowed himself to step out of the way, while Frank paid for his pet’s food.

“So, you’ve been thinking about me all day, right?” Frank said playfully, pocketing the change he received once the food was bagged.

Not even opening his mouth to say something, Gerard simply stayed quiet, knowing that he knew of absolutely nothing to say back. He stepped back a bit, once Frank turned around. He ran the end of the white cane along the tiled store floor, gently, as he began to step towards the front doors.

Without even being able to realize it, Gerard found himself staring at Frank as he walked by; mesmerized by his offbeat magnificence so much that he barely noticed Frank’s hand subtly reaching over towards him, until he felt Frank’s index finger quickly brush up against the material of his pants, running directly over his groin, startling him, as shivers suddenly danced up his arms and spine.

“Jesus,” Gerard hisses quietly, gawking as Frank smiled smartly and made his way back out onto the busy street.

Still watching him, as if under hypnosis, the realization of what he knew he needed to do did not enter into his mind under after he watched Frank sadly exit the store, leaving him there with nothing more than the cashier and his rotting dignity. He felt another jolt of rushing excitement skitter underneath his skin, right before he haphazardly dashed for the two front doors, pushing through them quickly, just in time to call out Frank’s name through the crowd of late night civilians. After calling out once, he watched Frank continue to maze through the people, tapping the cane in an organized beat, along the slush-glazed concrete. When Frank did not stop, he felt a knot tighten in his stop, as a small wave of worry washed over him; he called out again, somewhat louder than the previous time, before deciding to just catch up with him.

As he jogged through the forest of other people, he quickly found Frank, just as he saw the white cane slow down, followed by Frank’s steps as he slowed to a stop. An odd look fell over his features, as his eyebrows furrowed and he turned his head from side to side, attempting to pick up more noise either side. But this did not last long, as his name was called out once more. He realized who it obviously was, then allowed a wide smirk to spread across his lips.

“You’re walking?” Gerard inquired quizzically, as he caught up to Frank and walked alongside him a few feet, before the both of them halted in their path, causing the surrounding people to circle around them irritably.

“Why, yes, I am,” Frank responded sweetly.

Gerard glanced back at his car, parallel parked not too far off, before turning back to Frank.

“Maybe, I could…give you a lift?” Gerard offered, trying to add in as much kindness into his voice as possible, in his cold, dully aching state. “It’s a little cold out…I mean, I’m just saying…”

His voice trailed off, as he watched Frank’s expression change from its blankness, to a look of consideration and thought. His lips pursed and shifted slowly to one side, as he quietly contemplated.

“Ummm…” He made a low humming noise as he weighed his options aloud. Hearing Frank’s consideration of rejecting the offer, Gerard bit the inside of his lower lips, with lowering hopes.

But Frank’s expression abruptly disappeared. He hopped up energetically, with a grin quickly appearing over his features.

“Yeah!” he finally answered enthusiastically. He turned around on his heels, lightly tapping the white cane back onto the ground, with an excited force. “Let’s go.”

Letting the weight in his chest go, Gerard almost felt a small smile of some childish delight wisp over his lips, as he averted himself in the opposite direction, and led Frank towards his car. He thought absentmindedly, on whether or not he should open the door for Frank, but threw the idea away once he saw Frank simply reach over and feel for the handle, then suddenly swing the door open and dump himself into the passenger seat, leaving Gerard out in the cold, once he found the interior handle and shut the door. Getting in on the other side, he uncontrollably stared at Frank as he reached behind himself, to grab the seatbelt, without taking his eyes off of the windshield.

“You know, I heard energy drinks can give you heart attacks,” Frank commented, as he gripped the canned caffeine in his hands, running his thumbs over the edge of the top.

“Seriously?” Gerard said back, lowly, pulling out onto the busy street, and moving forward through the traffic, faster than he was enhancing before.

“Mm-hmm,” Frank said back simply, nodding his head a couple of times. “And seizures, too, if you’re epileptic. And you can die from the crash you get once you stop getting high from the energy.”

Staring dully at the tailgate of the car in font of him, as he pulled off onto a separate road towards the apartment buildings Frank informed him of, he awkwardly turned his head to glance at Frank and give him an odd look.

“Does that scare you?” Frank asked cleverly, turning his head somewhat in Gerard’s direction, and raising his eyebrows.

“I dunno…” Gerard muttered back, looking away and turning on to Frank’s street. Pulling over at the apartment Frank had briefly mentioned, he let them sit in a small silence for a moment, before finally turning towards Frank, to tell him that they had arrived. But, much like what he was sure he should have been used to by now, Frank butchered the silence with his own eagerness.

“You drink, right?” Frank inquired curiously, then took a hold of his cane and folded it out manually with both his hands.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Gerard said casually, knowing his answer was probably not fitting enough for the truth that hid behind it; but at that time of the night, he could not care less.

“So, you like…you wouldn’t mind if you came in…” Gerard watched as Frank’s hand raises to gesture towards the apartment’s stoop and front door. “You got like, ten minutes, don’t you?”

Readying himself to respond, Gerard quickly glanced back at the apartment’s front door, then averted back to Frank, as he uneasily weighed over his options. Of course, he had wanted to, but there seemed to be a separate side to it, as if a single section of his brain had been set aside, to make all of his mature, responsible decisions.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Frank suddenly cut through the uncomfortable silence, once again. “I mean, I was just saying like--I have some things you might like, but, you know, if you have to get going…” His voice trailed off, allowing Gerard to translate his tone; the speed of his words, the way he spoke--His attempt at a mere invitation was becoming an anxious want and need.

And Gerard knew how pathetically guilty he would become if he rejected such a coveted desire.

“Yeah, sure,” he responded unexpectedly, letting Frank quiet himself. Gerard turned to see a smile flash over his expression, before he keenly reached for the door handle, escaping from the confines of the cold vehicle, to guide himself towards the apartment door, letting Gerard promptly follow after him. The two fell silent, once inside the elevator, and still, neither of them spoke until Frank had led him into his apartment, once he unlocked the door.

The first part of Frank’s apartment that entered into Gerard’s senses, was, generally, the abnormality of it all, barely anything about it seemed to considered ordinary.

Stepping onto the dull carpet, Gerard looked around, taking in every aspect of it that he could muster. With the exception of the occasional framed picture, the walls were mostly bare, showing the odd cracks and scrapes it had taken in, from unknown sources. The vicinity held a vague scent of what seemed to be an unconventional mixture of sweet-smelling cologne and marijuana, giving it an air of both relaxation and foulness. The furniture appeared to be an odd combination of vintage and seventies` styles, with chairs, or even the kitchen floor, being exhibited in fashions he’d only seen on 1950s television shows. The floor alone, seemed to be hopelessly disorganized; scattered around it were various paraphernalia, ranging from stray CDs to cut-up magazine pages.

For a small while, Gerard had almost thought rudely, that Frank had to be the most disorganized, tasteless man on the planet. But then he had reminded himself of the most crucial fact that was necessary to know: He was Frank.

He had also changed his mind on that thought, the second he realized what had made the apartment messy to begin with; the abundance of music.

The sounds of Frank gently feeling along the walls towards the kitchen, to fumble with clinking objects in the refrigerator, filled in as a soft background soundtrack, whilst Gerard observed remarkably endless amount of musical things that had decorated nearly all of the atmosphere of Frank’s home.

The very first thing Gerard found himself noticing, were the guitars. At first, it was oddly unnoticeable, but now that he had caught onto it, he didn’t see how he could not see it.

There were at least two different guitars that were visible to Gerard, in that moment. The first he saw, was the beaten-up, sticker-covered acoustic, that sat patiently on the couch, its neck resting on a torn, striped pillow. Although it had all six necessary strings, the remaining ends of them dangled out far at the guitar’s head, waiting to be cut, which Gerard assumed Frank never bothered to do. The second guitar, which Gerard found himself almost impressed with, was a brightly-colored electric, finished with a spiral pattern of yellow and blank. It looked juvenile, in its own sense, although Gerard was sure that it must have cost much more than any child’s toy. Once he had set eyes upon it, he found it impossible to not notice the other objects surrounding it.

As if the guitars were not enough to show the incredibly clear and visible passion for music that seemed so strong, it radiated in the air they breathed, the obsession continued on with its numerous other siblings. Not only did Frank seem to own the largest collection of CDs that Gerard had ever witness throughout the history of his entire adult life, but the harmonious fixation boasted itself in a physical form, that birthed itself, simply as more forms of music to be listened to. Open cardboard boxes filled themselves with vinyl, which were accompanied by even more records. CDs found themselves strayed across any visible surface, like dust, while also being stacked neatly into strangely neat piles, a grotesque comparison to the common messiness of the sightless man’s home. A stereo sat quietly on a desk near the corner, where it befriended by a multitude of vagrant papers or abandoned pages ripped out of their magazines. All around the apartment, knickknacks scattered at least half of the surface area, consisting of either lost guitar picks, studded jewelry, or action figures that reminded Gerard of the toys he had owned as a child.

Taking in the bittersweet smell of the apartment, he let himself relax somewhat, and take a seat on the couch, next to the sleeping acoustic guitar. He listened to Frank continue to clink dishes together in the kitchen, for a couple of more minutes, before he saw him finally ascend through the doorway, into the living room, holding two separate shot glasses, which held what looked like nothing more than orange juice. He stood in the center of the room for a moment, subtly turning his head from side to side, as if to seek out noise, to tell which direction Gerard had gone in. Gerard moved, for a reason which he was even unsure of; perhaps to make some type of noise, or to get up and meet Frank. But before he could figure this out, Frank was already moving in his direction, and standing before him for a moment, before he swiftly turned around and flopped down next to Gerard on the couch, still holding the glasses.

“Drink that up quick, little boy. It’ll make the whole date rape part a lot less painful,” Frank said humorously. Gerard grew quiet, for a moment, then decided to go along with it, and let out a small laugh that sounded more nervous than he would have liked. He took one of the glasses that Frank was holding out to him and brought it up to his lips to drink. The second the liquid had hit his tongue, he knew he liked it, the taste being a highly enjoyable combination of sweetness and stinging alcohol.

“So?” Frank went on. He sunk down deeper into the couch, unintentionally creeping up closer to Gerard, so that their arms could touch. Seeing Frank so close to him, it was easy for Gerard to realize how small he really was. He could not have been any taller than Gerard, and most likely was not much bigger than Gerard in any other spectrum of measurement. Realizing this, a sense of accomplishment ran through his mind, as if being bigger than him was something to feel proud of.

“I like that,” Gerard eventually responded, taking another sip of it. “It’s…like a mimosa, right?”

“Actually, no,” Frank said back, tilting his head to one side, then taking a sip of his own. “It’s actually this…kind of illegal stuff…if you know what I mean.”

Gerard’s smile, as if on cue, gradually faded. He looked at Frank out of the corner of his eye, letting an uncomfortable look wash over his features.

“What…?” A horrible silence bred between the two, before Frank, as Gerard knew he would, broke it, simply.

With his shot glass still on his lips, a wide grin suddenly plunged over his expression as he let out a noise that Gerard knew immediately was a stifled laugh.

“Relax, man,” Frank laughed. “It’s just Sunny D and champagne.”

Gerard let out another awkward laugh, feeling unluckily embarrassed, once more.

“You get worried too easily.”

Gerard looked at Frank oddly, the second he noticed his sudden change in tone. It had gone from being laughing and playful, to a much softer tone, that Gerard almost thought sounded suggestive, or lustful in some way. Of course, this made him, again, begin to feel nervous. His shyness was also not helped, once he vaguely saw Frank’s arm reach out to subtly wrap around his neck, pulling them together even closer.

“Don’t be so tense,” Frank said gently, adjusting his sitting position, which only causes to be sitting even closer to Gerard, until Gerard was convinced that what they were doing could now officially be considered cuddling. He glanced over Frank a bit, who kept his arm wrapped over Gerard’s shoulder, letting his hand hang over his collar bone, with his thumb absentmindedly caressing the skin on the side of his neck. Feeling Frank’s fingers as they continued to feel around his paled flesh, Gerard’s breathing quickly became shallow and rapid. He could feel the sweat on his palms as he silently struggled to not let the glass slip out of his grip. Not even aware of which one of Frank’s actions exactly that was causing him to behave so timidly, he grew quiet and attempted to act completely casual. He glanced at Frank again, who had managed to keep his fingers moving back and forth in a rhythmic motion, softly ruffling the hair on the nape of Gerard’s neck.

“You’re really nervous right now, aren’t you?” Frank asked quietly, smiling softly as he kept his void eyes on the side of Gerard’s head, absently staring into Gerard’s ear, while his head gradually slithered closer and closer. Gerard did not respond, but rather chewed on his bottom lip nervously.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Frank persisted smartly, smirking. “Do you want to leave?”

Gerard began to nibble on the inside of his bottom lip, silently hoping for a way to get out, yet simultaneously, never wanting to leave. The bizarre combination of the two polar opposite feelings managed to confuse him greatly, so he could do nothing more than stay on the couch, a frozen stoicism of silence. But then, he had looked at the clock.

“I-I have to, um,…I should get going,” he said clumsily, finishing off the rest of the orange juice-flavored drink. Deciding that he had no other choice but to leave, or just make a fool of himself once more by staying, he hurriedly began to move to get up off of the couch, but froze in his place, the second he felt Frank’s hand wrench away from his neck, to grip around his shoulder.

“All of a sudden, you have to leave?” Frank questioned, accusingly.

“I have to get to bed…” Gerard answered lowly, slowly sitting back down, but preparing himself to get back up again. “I…have work tomorrow.”

Gerard looked at Frank, to see Frank’s smirk fade into an expression of what could either be disappointment or dullness. He felt Frank’s grip eventually loosen, as he let go of Gerard’s shoulder, and simply slid his fingers down the length of Gerard’s arm, the brought his hand back up to pick at the felt of Gerard’s shirt on his shoulder.

“Well, then…” Frank started, tilting his head to the side somewhat, letting his voice trail off for a moment. “Can you at least go to the movies with me, this weekend?”

It did not take long for the room to grow quiet, the silence lasting long enough for Gerard to become uneasy, once more.

“Um…sure,” he eventually answered lowly, setting the glass down on the side table that sat next to the couch. He glanced over at Frank again, just in time to see his normal expression become revived, with a smile spreading across his lips, as it normally did.

“Well, shit,” Frank said back, grinning, almost sounding like he was giggling. “You’re pretty passive, aren’t you?”

Gerard did not respond. He instead decided to ignore it, and finally brought himself to his feet. Grabbing his coat, he listened to Frank get up and walk up next to him, to lightly grip
back onto his shoulder, just as he had his hand on the doorknob to leave. Instinctively, Gerard turned around to face Frank, expecting Frank to continue to offer more invitations.

“So, you should call me sometime,” Frank suggested, slipping his index finger underneath the collar of Gerard’s coat, as he kept his eyes on his neck, stepping in somewhat closer. “And you won't hang up until I hear you talk more often. Deal?”

Gerard looked blankly at Frank for a moment, glanced back at the door, then looked back at Frank before finally saying something.

“Deal…” he responded quietly, extracting another delightful grin from Frank.

“Sweet,” Frank said back, smiling widely. Gerard thought he would almost smile as well, but he had felt too awkward and uncomfortable to do so. And before he could even respond at all in any way, he was disrupted by the sudden jerk of Frank’s head as his face abruptly moved closer to Gerard’s until he could taste Frank all over again. The constant tingling sensation on his lips became lively again, as the wet sensation of lips crashing into each other created such a chaotic thrill in his body, that he feared he might melt. His eyes became wide, for a moment, until he found himself unable to gain any control, and let his eyes fall closed as Frank’s hand reached to the back of his skull to pull them deeper into it. Feeling Frank’s tongue glide across his own and dance around in such magnificent ways, he felt one of his eyes twitch open to see Frank’s own empty, yet inexplicably striking orbs, only half open and appearing to be hollow, as if he had fallen so deeply into his actions, he’d lost himself in his own mind.

But by the time Gerard was able to close his eyes, Frank had already disconnected, with a clever smile.

“So, yeah, remember to pick me up on Saturday. Cool?” Frank reminded him.

“Yeah,” Gerard answered softly, his voice sounding empty and dazed. He saw Frank give him his usual smile, right before he managed to turn around and finally leave, walking back to his car with a type of smile adorning his lips, that he hadn’t felt in years.