Lights, Camera, Action, or A Mix Thereof.

Gerard couldn't sleep. Even though he should have been exhausted after such an eventful day, he was simply lying on his back, staring at the clock as the numbers flicked over. Beside him, Frank was snoring, sprawled on his stomach and taking up more than his share of the bed. However, it wasn't the snoring or the invasion of space that was keeping Gerard awake. His thoughts refused to stop swirling in his head, attacking his brain every time he tried to sleep.

As much as Gerard liked Frank, he couldn't help but feel that there was something... wrong with the young man. At first, his antics and energy had been attractive; they were the opposite of what Gerard was used to in his rather boring life and he'd been drawn to them like a bug to a lamp. But after the incident at the library, he wasn't sure what to think. Was Frank just naturally hyper or did he actually have a disorder of some kind?

Gerard had no idea. Eventually, as the clock changed over to four in the morning, his thoughts slowed down enough for him to get a few winks of sleep. He was up again by six in the morning, awakened by the sound of the newspaper hitting his front step. The same ads as the day before were in the classifieds, with the exception of the library; apparently Mikey had filled the position. Over a bowl of cereal and with Frank's snores as background music, he went down the list and once again circled all the jobs he was qualified for.

At the top of the list was, once again, the position at the hardware store downtown. Gerard had a feeling that his know how on the whole topic of home renovation and whatnot was slightly sketchy but the next best thing was a movie theater and Gerard wanted to avoid that prospect at all costs. He had seen the uniforms that were required at the movie theater; they were this hideous shade of blue, like the color of someone's veins, and the fabric looked like itchy polyester. The employees also had to wear this stupid half visor thing that just looked ridiculous.

So, as soon as the clock switched over to eight o'clock, Gerard left the house, resume in hand, leaving Frank asleep. He hadn't even considered bringing Frank with him; he didn't want to repeat the previous day's calamity.

Frank woke up roughly half an hour later by his bladder practically screaming at him. Reluctantly pulling himself out of bed, his mask of sleep almost immediately disappeared when he realized something was wrong. He couldn't place it so he ran through his senses one by one until something clicked. Gerard wasn't in bed, which wasn't unusual. The television was playing quietly in the background, tuned to some morning talk show. There was-

No. There wasn't the smell of coffee filling the air. That meant that Gerard hadn't wanted to wake Frank up early, which meant he was trying to sneak out, which meant he had already left! Springing up from the bed and forgetting about his bladder, he pulled on a pair of boxers and ran into the kitchen, looking for a note or some other sign that Gerard hadn't abandoned him.

Other than the newspaper on the kitchen table, there was nothing. Desperate, Frank picked this up and ran his finger down the pages, stopping and looking at each ad that wasn't circled. When he got to the hardware store, he paused and mulled it over in his head. He didn't have a logical reason but he just knew that Gerard was there, not at any of the other jobs.

Besides, the people who worked at the movie theaters had ugly uniforms. Frank knew Gerard wouldn't apply there unless he absolutely had to.

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

Gerard had a good feeling about the job. The manager had reacted favorably to his resume and they actually had a conversation about the furniture store for a few moments, discussing its ridiculously high prices. Even when the conversation turned back to business, things seemed to be going good; Gerard was told that the position mainly involved stocking shelves at night and on the weekends. He didn't think that he would need to know what the difference between a lug wrench and a monkey wrench was in order to unload things from boxes. He was a little skeptical about sleeping all day and working all night but a job was a job.

Yes, things seemed to be going perfectly fine, until Frank walked in.

Frank had never actually been in a hardware store; in high school, he had taken music instead of wood shop and therefore knew even less about the contents of the store than Gerard did. As a result, as he wandered the aisles looking for Gerard and only finding light bulbs, screwdrivers and various other metal things, he grew increasingly bored. When Frank got bored, he created his own excitement.

Hence, the incident with the nail gun.

At the end of one aisle, Frank saw what looked like a glue gun, only three times bigger. By this point, he was so bored that anything remotely resembling a type of gun was interesting and he picked up the show model, whistling at the weight of it in his hands. He had only ever seen a nail gun in horror films and (like the massive ladders in the library), he was experiencing a moment of revelation. He could only imagine how much easier life would be if he had a nail gun! Instead of getting up to find a thumbtack, he could merely shoot the wall if a corner of one of his posters fell down. Hell, you could just replace all the thumbtacks with nails so nothing would ever fall down! It was a brilliant idea! Caught up in the moment, Frank spun and pulled the trigger, pretending that he was sending a nail into a plaster wall.

Technically, the incident with the nail gun wasn't really Frank's fault. Show models are supposed to be empty, after all. However, when one of the stock boys had been fired three days previous (and created a position that Gerard was hoping to fill), he decided to give the system one last fuck you.

He put nails in the nail gun.

When Frank fired, a nail shot out of the barrel, flying through the air. Horrified, Frank dropped the gun onto the ground and sprinted after the nail, hoping that he could somehow catch it. However, by the time he had begun to run, the nail had already smashed through the lights of four chandeliers that were hanging from the ceiling. Glass rained down as Frank ran through it, cursing at the top of his lungs.

"Slow down you fucking thing!" he yelled, splinters of glass crunching beneath his feet. Despite this, the nail continued to go forward, shattering more light bulbs before continuing the final leg of its journey.

In the manager's office, which was just off of the store front, Gerard thought that he had surely closed the deal. The manager was smiling underneath his bushy mustache and when he stood up, he held out his hand for Gerard to shake. For a moment, Gerard could only stare at it; he couldn't remember the last time he had shook someone's hand. Had it been high school?

That didn't matter, because as soon as Gerard stuck out his own hand, the nail shot through the wall and buried itself in the manager's foot. Screaming, he instantly retracted his hand and collapsed to the ground, clutching his leather loafers. Within seconds, blood began to stain through the thin fabric. Seconds after that, Frank stumbled through the door, red faced and out of breath. He looked from Gerard to the manager and back, holding his head in both hands.

"Holy fuck, I'm so sorry," he said, paling noticeably at the sight of the blood before turning his attention to Gerard. "I'm glad I found you though, I thought you'd left me this morning!"

Gerard couldn't do it. He had been thisclose to getting a job that he thought he would do very well in and then, once again, Frank just had to fuck up. He was, quite frankly, furious.

"Frank, go outside," he said. "Just... get out." He didn't stick around to see Frank's reaction; he turned to look at the manager's foot, which was bleeding profusely.

"Are you okay?"

"Did you know him?" the manager asked, face growing paler by the second. Gerard nodded and the manager only shook his head, gasping as he adjusted his ankle.

"Please, call an ambulance... and don't come back." Gerard had a feeling that the manager was only using such harsh words because he was in an extreme amount of pain but nonetheless, the message was there. He called 911, like he had asked and then left, informing the workers what had happened as he passed them. When he exited the store, Frank was sitting on the sidewalk, eyes red-rimmed with tears. Even though this sight made Gerard feel guilty about snapping, he was still so angry that he had lost an amazing opportunity, once again, because of Frank's negligence.

"Gerard," Frank whispered, standing up and brushing off his pants, "I'm really sorry."

"Not right now Frank. I can't deal with you right now." With those last words, Gerard turned his back and walked down the street, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Frank stood still, staring at his retreating back before more tears began to drip from his eyes.

They dripped from Gerard's as well.