As the Leaves Change in Color

I woke up to a bucket of water being poured on my face.

"Frank! What the hell are you doing?!"

My question was followed by laughter that sounded like it was coming from a madman. At first I was furious, but I couldn't help but crack a smile. Just about a week ago, Frank had found me, wandering around, running away from home. He was nice enough to take me in, but it was decided that after I had gotten myself pieced together, and had enough money to get someplace, he would aid me on my mission to find my baby brother, and his ex-boyfriend.

It was amazing, really. I thought I had been completely broken, never to be able to repair myself again. And I was still kind of broken. But I was being healed, by a man named Frank Iero.

Now, don't get the wrong idea. Frank and I aren't an item. No way. That just seems weird, considering he was with my brother and all. He was, in a way, kind of my best friend. I had never had many friends, before. I mean, I've known Frank most all my life, but we were never close. I had never realized how cool and funny and sweet and beautiful he was.... I mean, in a friendly way, of course.

"Well, I just had to get you up early. I have a feeling that today will be the day, my friend. I want you to go find yourself a job! I know you can do it! Besides, the water was necessary. You needed the shower."

"Ha ha, real funny. You know of all people that I'm not big on shower-taking."

He smiled at me, and I just rolled my eyes and got up out of my bed. He was right, though. I did need to take a shower. How long had it been since I'd given myself a good scrubbin'? 6, 7 days or so?

"Uh, Frank? You got any spare clothes I can wear? I'm pretty sure that putting these back on will sorta cancel out the effects of a shower. And besides, my other clothes I brought aren't appropriate to go out job-searching in...", I said, motioning towards my clothes as I looked at them. I just then realized how slobbish I really was. My clothes were stained with mud, blood, dirt, and I think that that was pee. I'm not exactly sure, and maybe I don't wanna be exactly sure.

He nodded, and threw me a Misfits t-shirt and a pair of ball shorts. Yea man, I'd sure be classy enough to go out to hunt for a job in those clothes. Maybe I should've just worn my own.... Then again, his clothes were way ceaner than mine anyways. But I don't think it would've mattered. I was sure enough to get a job at Walmart or McDonald's at least no matter how I appeared.

So, I got up and walked out of his room and into the bathroom so I could take my shower. I stripped my clothes off and got in under the hot water, letting it rinse the dirt off of me and taking in all the warmth.

While I was getting myself all purdied up, I started thinking about how lucky I really was. I mean, here I was, taking a hot shower in the comfort of (someone else's) home, getting ready to have clean clothes and maybe relax a bit before I headed out, and Bert was probably out on the run, freezing cold, in the rain (and yes, I know it's kinda cliche), wandering around aimlessly, looking for a place to stay. Kind of like I was, not even a week ago.

At first I was mad at myself. Why did I deserve to have all these luxuries when my only love (ha ha, make fun of my pansy later) is out there, probably lying half-dead in a ditch somewhere? And then, I started thinking. He put himself in this situation. I didn't tell him to leave me. I didn't tell him to do something stupid like put himself in a dangerous situation and leave me broken.... I didn't know who exactly I should've been mad at. Him, for leaving me to think that way, or myself, for even thinking anything bad about the man who used to be the only person who brought a smile to my life.

I hopped out of the shower, sighed, and threw on the clothes Frank gave me as I was thinking about all my mixed up emotions. Should I be sad that he's gone away from me? Or should I be mad he left me to think like this? Or maybe I should feel guilty for being at a comfortable place, while he's out on the run. Or maybe I should be guilty because I'm starting to enjoy living with Frank....

Relationships. They'll do nothing but screw with your mind, I'm telling ya.

I walked into the room I've been sharing with Frank and started looking at a few of the poems that Bert had written me. I smiled, thinking about how happy he had been to hand them to me, to let me see his work. Writing was something that he was very good at, and every time he had written something he was proud of, I was always the first to read it. I always thought that was sweet of him.

I actually wrote some stuff, myself. But I was nowhere near as talented a writer as Bert, as hard as I tried to be. I remember one time I was so down on myself, drowning in self-pity because I thought I couldn't write. I drown in self-pity a lot, huh? I'll never forget the words he spoke to me that day:

"Don't worry, Gerard. You may suck at writing, and you may always suck at writing, but I'll always love you, no matter what."

He has a... funny way of showing you how he really feels.

I put the poetry up in my backpack full of my meager possessions, and walked into the living room where Frank was sitting. I plopped down next to him, and kind of laid my head on his shoulder. I don't know why I did it. I used to do that to Bert, so I guess it was just out of habit.

He didn't say anything to me, so I didn't move. Besides, I was pretty comfortable how I was laying. And then, a pang of self-hatred hit me. I bet Bert isn't laying on someone else's shoulder right now.... But I'd seen him lay on other people before, so I didn't exactly feel too bad about it. Besides, it was just Frank. He was just a friend, nothing more. Right?

So, I was lying there, all comfy and everything, when Frank turned his head enough to look at me out of the corner of his eye.

"So, we gonna go job-hunting or what?"