Lights, Camera, Action, or A Mix Thereof.

When Frank finally arrived back home, Gerard was sitting at the kitchen table again, staring at the morning's newspaper. His head was being held up by his hands and Frank could hear him sniffing underneath the curtain of hair that blocked his face from view. He wanted to go forward and hug him but he assumed (correctly, for once) that Gerard wouldn't want that. Instead, he stood awkwardly in the entrance to the kitchen, staring at the floor with his hands stuck in his pockets. While he waited for Gerard to say something, he noticed that the linoleum was starting to peel near the refrigerator and he had to suppress the urge to go and fix it.

"Do you have anything to say?" When Gerard finally spoke, his voice was no louder than a whisper. Frank shifted from foot to foot, swallowing heavily.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, still looking down.

"Is that it?" Frank nodded, wincing at Gerard's chuckle that followed his words.

"Frank, you've cost me two jobs in the past two days," he said softly, "and, for all I know, you had something to do with me getting fired from the furniture store. Sorry isn't going to cut it."

"But what happened today wasn't my fault!" Frank could feel himself tearing up again and he angrily wiped his eyes. "I didn't put the fucking nail in that gun!"

"But you still followed me!" Gerard's head snapped up and Frank could see that his eyes were still leaking tears as well. "Do you not realize that? A normal person doesn't follow their boyfriend to a freaking job interview! A normal person doesn't catapult themselves off a goddamn ladder! A-"

"Well maybe I'm not freaking normal!" Frank's scream seemed to echo in the small kitchen, filling the air until both men felt like they couldn't breathe. Frank's chest constricted tighter and tighter until he slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor. He began to sob, holding his head in his hands and rocking back and forth. Gerard slowly got up from his seat, unsure about what to do. To be honest, he felt terrible. He'd just wanted to talk to Frank, not make him bawl his eyes out.

"Frank, I'm sorry," he said, kneeling beside him on the floor. "I didn't mean to make you upset." For nearly five minutes, Frank didn't answer; he was crying too hard to. When his breath finally stopped coming out in hitches, he wiped his eyes and sat up, looking Gerard in the eyes.

"I have ADHD," he said quietly. "I can't stop talking, I have difficulty controlling my emotions and impulses, I find it hard to pay attention. and I haven't taken my pills in years." He smiled uneasily, somewhat amused by the ridiculous look on Gerard's face; it was like he had just been roundhoused in the face.

"I... I had no idea," Gerard finally stammered, face turning redder with each passing second. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I tell you?" Frank spat back, standing up and walking into Gerard's bedroom. He knew that he was being irrational but he had gone from being upset to angry; something about Gerard's sheer ignorance just filled him with fury. Frank picked up the clothes that he had scattered all over the room and shoved them in his battered backpack, which he had to pull out from underneath the bed. When he turned around, Gerard was standing in the doorway, eyes still leaking.

"I'm sorry," he said again, voice hardly louder than a whisper. "Please, at least stay for dinner." Frank had to admit, he was tempted; Gerard's face was almost pitiful enough to get him to stay. However, he knew that if he stayed for an hour, that hour would turn into six hours and he wouldn't even remember why he was mad. Frank didn't want to be a push over.

So, even though he was starting to cry again, he threw his backpack over his shoulder and walked out the front door, leaving Gerard to stand in his bedroom door, trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened.

****************************************************************************

That night, Gerard couldn't sleep again. Although Frank had only been staying at his house for a few days, Gerard had adapted to him. He had gotten used to the incredibly loud snoring or going from having the entire bed to himself to maybe a quarter of it. Worse than this, however, was that he'd gotten used to Frank's smell. Frank's aftershave was very distinctive; Gerard had absolutely no idea what brand he used but it lingered on his pillows and sheets. Even after he completely stripped everything off the bed, he could still smell it, clinging to the air particles around him.

He dozed off for an hour but when he awoke again at five thirty, he felt worse than before. The only reason that he dragged himself out of bed at all was due to the thump he heard as the daily newspaper hit his front step. Even though he was still upset about Frank leaving, he needed to get a job. If he couldn't pay the rent, he'd have to move back in with his parents and he was not going to do that.

Therefore, when Gerard saw that the movie theatre still had their advertisement placed, he swallowed his pride and decided to call when it opened. The words I'd like to apply had barely fallen from his mouth before he was declared hired by the desperate manager. When he got off the phone, he looked at himself in the hall mirror, studying his figure.

Maybe the uniform wouldn't look too bad.