Rainbow Injection

Gerard stood up abruptly and left the office. It may have looked like he just wanted to clear his mind in the cold air on New Year’s Eve, but the reality was harsher than that. Gerard didn’t want to think about something work-related. He still didn’t know what he’d be thinking when he exited the building he hated. Yeah, to be honest, Gerard despised his sterile white cubicle that he was forced to sit in for approximately nine hours every day. Even on New Year’s Eve. Actually, he’d come to work even if he wasn’t forced to – he had nothing else to do, no purpose. His relationship with his parents was non-existent. They were meeting on Christmas, exchanging presents and forgetting about each other for another year. His love life was non-existent. He’d had a few girlfriends, but after he’d broken up with the last one, Katie, he’d lost his faith in love. His sex life was non-existent. No one wanted to hook up with a bitter man, drinking himself to oblivion every Friday. He’d often wake up in an alleyway, but never in someone else’s bed. His friends were non-existent. He was just boring to hang out with. He’d often get bored of himself, too. His imaginary friends were non-existent. That was just because he was too old to have imaginary friends. His life was barely existent, but only because he hadn’t made a decision to end it. Yet. But that was about to change.

Gerard liked doing everything with a BANG!, glitter and preferably in the spotlights on a red carpet. He liked being classy. Actually, it was all he cared about in his miserable life. He had to be fashionably late to work, his hair had to be perfect, his suit ironed. He cared about the way he was walking, smiling, blinking, and sometimes even breathing. Not that ANYONE besides him cared. He could just as well disappear and no one would notice.

Gerard was walking down the street without purpose, a lit cigarette placed between his lips, a frown on his face. No one seemed to notice him – they all were walking SOMEWHERE, unlike him. They all were dressed in colorful, revealing outfits – you name it – oranges, greens, purples, yellows, reds, blues were everywhere. Gerard felt even more lonely and abandoned in his flawless black suit. So out of place. So unwanted. Not loved. Just walking without purpose.

Gerard heard a loud horn and an angry yell, cutting the friendly hum of a bustling city. He turned around to see what caused the noise. He saw a man standing in front of a car. It was obvious that the pedestrian didn’t look around before crossing the street. He could have been dead, Gerard thought. And it dawned on him.

Gerard could be dead too. It wouldn’t make a difference. He felt a weird rush of energy, thinking about his death. He thought that it had to be classy as everything he did. It had to be worth showing on the TV. He knew that today was the day. The day of happiness and celebration, which he’d fill with gloom and depression. He knew it couldn’t be ordinary – car crashes were so common, jumping from a bridge or under a train was so obvious, cutting his veins was too messy, a shot to the head… He’d do it, but he didn’t own a gun and know no one to borrow it from. Gerard was stuck.

Gerard was stuck, but he knew what, besides another cigarette, could help him. He crossed the street, turned left on the next intersection, then into a shortcut between two blocks and there he was. A park that he loved, especially at this time of a year, because it matched his mood. The trees were bare, the sky was grey and seemed to touch the ground. The branches screamed at him to take some rope and tie it around his neck. But hanging oneself wasn’t classy. The corpse was deformed, blue, violet from the lack of oxygen. He definitely didn’t want THAT to happen to his body. Then Gerard thought of sleeping pills. He liked the idea very much. Passing away in his sleep was classy. Too bad it wasn’t extraordinary or dramatic enough. No, he needed something shocking.

Gerard sighed loudly and sat on a bench. It was one no one wanted to sit on, because it was facing just a few ordinary trees. Gerard felt at home, surrounded by boredom and squashed by the sky. But something didn’t feel familiar. A young girl was standing between the trees. She was handing money to someone hidden in the shadow. Gerard couldn’t help but watch with no interest as the shadow handed back a white package to the girl. She slid it to her pocket and left.

Gerard congratulated himself silently and stood up.

Frank couldn’t believe he was doing it again. He handed Arletta her package and pocketed the money. He wished he didn’t know her name. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so depressed about ruining her life. Maybe if he wasn’t so careless, the cops wouldn't be after him.

Frank had an arrest warrant on his ass. His pupil, as he called them, had given him away. But not something a bribe wouldn’t fix. Temporarily. But now they knew his name and uh, marks. He had to be more careful. Though he couldn’t leave his dear pupils. Not since he wasn’t going to quit himself. Yeah, Frank started as a minor junkie, weed, pills and then cocaine. His dealer was the best one in the city, his stuff was crystal clear. Needless to say, Frank was selling everything - weed, pills, cocaine and heroin. Both to his pupils and other dealers. But everyone knew his stuff was the best. He was kind of a persona in the underground. Everyone knew his name, though he shouldn’t have ever revealed it.

Frank didn’t want it. He had morals. He wanted to get clean and end his “career.” The thoughts came to him when the cocaine was wearing off. Then he snorted another line. Everything was good again.

Frank knew the problem was that even if he quit and didn’t touch the business for the end of his life, it wouldn’t matter. He’d be put in a prison anyway. And he had to live off something. Dealing was out of the question, the temptation would be too big. A normal job was out of question too. He’d just get reported to the police and imprisoned. He just had to live his life that way. He had to wait for a solution.

Frank looked up at the sky. He wished he hadn’t made poor decisions in his life. He wished he graduated college and didn’t get mixed with the wrong crowd. Didn’t light his first joint. Didn’t swallow the first pill. Didn’t snort his first line. But he did. And he was stuck. He was waiting for a solution to magically appear. In the meantime he snorted another line, because...why was he even thinking about it all?

Frank sighed, because the cocaine didn’t help this time, not so much. He was trying to reduce the dose. He was feeding just the physical addiction. The psychical one was barely better. He was waiting for a solution.

Frank didn’t know that the solution was coming.

Gerard stepped into the shadow and blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Frank looked at him with no interest. He didn’t know the guy, he wasn’t one of his pupils.

“What do you have..?” Gerard asked straight forward, not batting an eyelash. He was already dead-set on his genius plan.

“What’s your name?” Frank asked back. He had his stupid policy. He knew his pupils’ names.

"Gerard." There was no reason to lie.

"Well, Gerard, what would you want?" Frank smiled warmly, because he was just like that. He slightly opened the right side of his winter coat, allowing Gerard to catch a glimpse, nothing more.

"Heroin." Gerard smirked, because...heroin.

"Have you ever done drugs before?" Frank asked, quite dumbfounded. The man in front of him looked like a picture perfect version of health and morals. He was pretty sure what the answer would be anyway. "Maybe you should try something soft?" he suggested. Okay, maybe he cared too much. But he couldn't bring himself to just sell heroin to this man, who probably could do with some pills, at least in the beginning.

"I have when I was a teenager," Gerard announced firmly. "I need heroin."

"I'm sure that whatever made you come here, could be fixed with some LSD," Frank frowned.

"Just admit that you don't sell the stuff and don't waste my time, would you..?" Gerard sighed and was ready to turn around to find another dealer, but the man stopped him.

"Wait!" Frank said in a harsh whisper. As much as he didn't want to ruin lives, he couldn't just lose clients either. "Why would you want heroin? Even coke is better!"

"Do you have heroin..?" Gerard ignored the last question. He had other things to do.

"I do," Frank admitted shamefully. "But you really can't give up on your life like that! There's no way out," Frank tried to convince Gerard. "Try some pills."

"But that's the point!" Gerard exclaimed happily. He had no problems with sharing his plan. The man was a dealer. He wouldn't give a damn anyway. "I wanna kill myself!"

Frank stared at him wide-eyed for a second.

"Why?" He finally asked.

"Why not?" Gerard shrugged. Frank couldn't find an answer to that. "So will you sell me the heroin..?"

"Do you even have..." Frank trailed off. "What is it that leaves you suicidal?" Okay, so he admits, maybe he just wanted to make Gerard one of his pupils. Regular income is better that just one time.

"What is it that makes you want to live..?" Gerard mocked and continued before the man had a chance to think about it, let alone answer "Exactly. That's the point. I'm just so fucking bored of it all. I know I'm too old to change and my life would be miserable to the end. I'm better off dead." He explained slowly, only getting emotional or even passionate once.

"But it can still end well!" Frank disagreed "If anyone here is hopeless that'd be me," he muttered. Of course he wanted Gerard to hear it, if he hadn't, he wouldn't have opened his mouth. Maybe he cared about the others too much and no one gave a shit about him as long as he was selling them drugs.

"Why? I thought drugs made you happy..?" Gerard didn't know why he was asking. But he had the feeling the man had heroin and he would be able to put his hands on it eventually.

"At first they do," Frank nodded, "but then you realize you're addicted and you're worth NOTHING. You're less than a rat. You won't turn me in?" He waved his hand dismissively. "Actually it doesn't matter. I have an arrest warrant after me," he confessed. "Ordinary people like you wouldn't recognize me and the whole thing isn't exactly loud, but once the cops see me, I'm screwed." He extended his hand. "Frank Iero, nice to meet you."

"Wow." Gerard's eyebrows were high on his forehead, but he carefully took Frank's hand and shook it. It was really thin, he could feel the bones poking through his skin. "I heard about you on the radio once," he admitted in awe, but then his expression dropped. "You're so screwed."

"I know," Frank sighed. "And I can do nothing about it."

"Really?" Gerard asked. "There's always a way."

"Not this time," Frank chuckled.

"And have you thought about..." Gerard paused for a better effect, "you know...suicide..?"

"No way man, that's just..." Frank trailed off, because suicide. Wow. Killing himself. Ending all that crap. And before he could think about it, he answered, "No, I haven't." It was the truth. Why? He didn't know.

"Imagine it," Gerard said and spread his arms wide with a great dose of dramaturgy. "No responsibilities, no fear, no regrets," he listed quickly, wondering what he'd feel in Frank's situation.Then he chuckled. "Actually nothing at all. But isn't it better than this anyway..?"

"Uhm..." Frank sighed. Now that Gerard told him about those things he could not feel... Just ending it all with a snap of his fingers was an appealing idea "Why haven't I thought about it before?!" He stared at Gerard wide-eyed.

"I don't know," Gerard answered, shrugging. "I haven't either, though. Up until tonight," he shrugged again and decided that he could finally ask, "So how about this heroin..?" He watched, pleased, as Frank patted his chest in search for the stuff, then his back pocket and his face lit up.

"I'm selling, I'm selling," he mumbled and showed Gerard a white package. "Here it is." But he couldn't sell the heroin to the man, that was just cruel and plain bad. So he shoved it back to his pocket "No, you're not getting it" Then he thought about it again. Should he really deny something someone who was practically on his deathbed? "Okay, fine."

"You can't do anything to stop me," Gerard grinned, already able to feel his palm curling around the white package he craved. "Please," he added, hoping that it finally would do it. He’d never thought that drug dealers could be so reluctant about selling the stuff.

“Fine,” Frank sighed and extended the hand, holding the fix towards Gerard “It’ll be...” He thoughtfully tapped his finger on his chin. The man would die soon anyway, why shouldn’t he take all the money he wants off him? “A thousand.”

“Are you joking?” Gerard’s eyebrows shot up in shock.

“Well, you won’t need it anyway,” Frank explained and shrugged.

“Couldn’t you like give me once in a lifetime discount..?” he chuckled at his bad pun. “I don’t have the money on me now, to be honest.”

“At home?” Frank asked, hopeful.

“Maybe...” Gerard trailed off. He really didn’t need the money, he could give it all to Frank as well. “Okay, let me just...” He patted his front pocket to check if the wallet was still there. “I’ll withdraw something from the ATM.”

“Okay,” Frank agreed eagerly. “Let’s go then.”

Gerard shrugged and set off in the direction he’d come from earlier. Frank was trailing behind in a hood, hiding his face just in case. He was thinking about suicide.

“So tell me what exactly makes you want to die?” Frank asked, because he was curious and as he’d confessed earlier, it was an appealing idea.

“Everything,” Gerard sighed "Work. It's killing me! Fucking 9 to 5 in a white cubicle. Sorry if I'm insensitive, but I'd rather be a dealer. Fresh air, contact with people, DRUGS, you can just not give a damn about the whole world. You can just... Leave it behind anytime, because nothing holds you," Gerard shrugged.

"No, I can't," Frank disagreed. "I have to live off something, I have my dealers and connections here and the arrest warrant." He sighed, because if he could he would leave it all behind without a backwards glance.

"We're both screwed," Gerard summed up. "Why do you even bother anyway..?" he asked. If he was in Frank's shoes, he'd have jumped off of a bridge ages ago.

"I don't know." Again, Frank was surprised he hadn't thought about it before. "Maybe because of my pupils," he explained.

"Pupils...?" Gerard frowned. What was Frank talking about?

"Junkies," Frank explained. Sometimes it was easy to forget not everyone had access to his head. "I like to call them that. It makes them... more human. People who'd just made poor decisions."

"Don't wanna be rude, but you're just hurting yourself," Gerard shook his head in utter disbelief. "They don't give a damn about you and you call them as if they're your beloved... I don't even know." Gerard stopped abruptly and stared at Frank in awe. Before his very eyes was standing probably the best person alive. What if he was doing coke...? It made him even more beautiful. In the limited light of an early evening, Gerard studied Frank's physical features for the first time. His skinny jeans were looking baggy, because he was skin and bones from addiction, he guessed. His face as hidden under the hood, but Gerard could still make out the outline of Frank's not very manly jaw and his not smiling, pierced lips. His nose was straight and simply perfect, unlike Gerard's and his eyes were big and wild. His forehead was protected by the hood.

"What are you staring at?" Frank snapped, because what the fuck? So maybe Frank was into guys and maybe now that he actually took the time to notice, Gerard was kinda sexy with his denim-clad, round thighs, thin lips, pixy nose that was just cute, big narrow eyes and bushy eyebrows low on his forehead, messy hair that was clearly styled this way. Yeah, maybe he really was sexy and now he was staring at Frank, who was feeling self-conscious.

"You," Gerard shrugged and started walking again. "It's really sad that you're wasting your thoughts on those junkies. Pretty heroic, but sad," he concluded.

"So should I just throw it all away?" Frank asked, raising his voice a little. Deep inside he'd already known the answer.

"What all..?" Gerard pointed out "The junkies, dealing and coke..?" Frank could just hear the raised eyebrow in Gerard's voice.

"Uh..." Frank realised that the man was right. There was nothing he'd be leaving behind if he decided to just disappear. And if he did, he wouldn't be able to worry about it anyway.

"Hmmm, so what about it..?" Gerard pried. He didn't know why he was doing it. Maybe he just wanted to help. Or finally get the heroin.

"What about what?" Frank asked back, though he had an idea what Gerard was talking about.

"Nevermind." So apparently Gerard had enough self restraint not to say oh-so-very-subtly 'so will there be a double suicide?' or something along those lines.

The rest of the way to the nearest ATM was silent. Gerard was thinking about what he knew about overdosing heroin; which was fairly little. Frank was having an internal battle over whether he wanted to end his life or not. They'd made it eventually and Gerard was standing with a handful of money in front of Frank.

"So I guess our journey together ends here..?" he asked. He extended the hand with money for Frank to take, but the man didn't move. "Hey, Frank?"

"I've thought about it..." Frank began slowly, "and I think I wanna do it."

"Cool." Gerard's expression didn't change, but inside he was beaming. They stood there for a while in an awkward silence, both of them without an idea of what to say "So... what now...?" Gerard finally asked.

"I don't know," Frank shrugged "How did you want to do it?"

"Uhm... you know, inject the drug and die..?" Gerard answered and then felt an urge to facepalm himself. "Oh shit! I don't even know how much to take!"

"You haven't done heroin before?" Frank asked, feeling useful, because he probably knew the answer to Gerard's problem.

"No... Actually I thought about it all after seeing you in the park, so I haven't even done any research yet," Gerard confessed "But it's important not to take too little, right..?"

"Right," Frank shrugged. "Okay, so I assume you don't have a syringe or a spoon either." He watched in amusement as Gerard shook his head. "I have, so uhm..." He shrugged once again, not sure what he was offering.

"So... let me ask again, do you want to commit a double suicide with me?" Gerard said, just to get it over with, because he was sure of Frank's answer. He wasn't surprised when Frank nodded.

"What do we do?" Frank asked then, feeling slightly better now that he knew what he was doing. At least in general.

"I thought of... something fancy, but I don't know what exactly," Gerard stated.

"Okay, but what's your plan?" Frank pried.

"I thought..." Gerard tapped his finger on his chin "Uhm... That I'll inject the heroin just before midnight... That's all I know so far."

"But where?" Frank questioned further.

"Uh..." Gerard hadn't thought about it yet. "Do you have any ideas?"

"I don't know. It doesn't matter to me, not really. I'd do it in a public toilet, but if you prefer something fancy... Hmmm..." Frank saw the city's landscape in his mind, thinking what could suit Gerard's standards. "Some restaurant maybe?" he shrugged.

"How do you think it'd look...? We need something more private..."
They were silent for a moment.

"How about a hotel!" Gerard exclaimed and he already knew it was a perfect idea. Private, luxurious, just perfect.

"I think it's great," Frank smiled. "Which one are you thinking of?"

"Umm... Do you know this one in the centre...the one made of glass..." Gerard was terrible at explaining, because the majority of the hotels in city centre were made of glass.

"I don't know," Frank admitted and shrugged, "but you can show me."

"Let's go then, we'll get my car," Gerard suggested and Frank agreed, because there was no other way to get to the centre.

On their way, Gerard was thinking about suicide. Again. He had no doubts about doing it - once he'd made a decision, he would have stick to it.

Frank wasn't thinking whether it was a right or wrong thing to do - he was trying to convince himself that it was the only way out. He really thought it was.

In the hotel they checked in, the apartment at the very top wasn't free, Frank was perfectly fine with the one just below, though. Gerard on the other hand didn't like it at all, because it was SECOND BEST. It would totally destroy his plan!

"Come on, it'll be spectacular anyway!" Frank encouraged him and they hit the elevators.

"I suppose it has to do," Gerard sighed, but the pout disappeared from his lips. "I just hope it has the décor I was looking for... If it's like white and gold then we'll have to look for something better, I'm afraid."

"You asked if it was in dark colors," Frank pointed out, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but the receptionist looked like a cow, I'm not sure she understood," Gerard scoffed.

"You're over exaggerating. It'll be fine."

It turned out that Frank was right - after they'd come out of the elevator and used a card to open the room, Gerard changed his mind.

"The receptionist probably thought that we're a couple,” Frank concluded when he saw a double bed with black sheets. "I wish I had someone like that," he murmured. Gerard heard it, but he didn't know what to say, so he just sat down on the bed and admired the room. Except for the double bed, there was a dark, wooden floor, crimson red curtains, shielding them from the world outside and the light was dimmed. There was a chandelier that resembled candles, but it wasn't turned on, which was good, because it'd be too bright. The wallpaper was a bit darker than the curtains and it had some, probably floral, ornaments in black. Gerard surprisingly was pleased with the room.

Frank couldn't care less if the decor was dark or kitsch or whatever, he was tired and his legs hurt, so he decided that he should just fall face-first to the bed. And he did just that. But soon he realized that he wasn't really sleepy and the silence began to bore him. So he rolled over, thinking that he could talk to Gerard. Or turn on the TV, but he didn't even like it and the remote was on a table across the room, so talking it was. Frank didn't have to think about his question much. It was just there, waiting to be spoken.

"Why do you want to kill yourself?" he asked and Gerard shot him a glare.

"Do you realize it's the third time you're asking?" he raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "I don't know why you care."

"I'm just bored," Frank shrugged. "And curious. And I'm really a caring person, so yeah. And you have no reason not to do or say anything stupid, because it won't matter. We'll be dead soon," Frank concluded and Gerard had to admit that he had a point there.

"We're all gonna die eventually, so why don’t people ‘do or say anything stupid’ all the time?" Gerard defended. "But that's true - we've got nothing to lose." Gerard's voice was void of emotions when he spoke "So, where should I start?" He shrugged two times, giving Frank time to think about it.

"You mentioned work?" Frank hinted with a smile, which he hoped was reassuring "Is it, you know, too much for you?"

"Actually, yes and no," he paused. "I mean, I don't have problems with the actual work, but I hate it. It's an office job, it's boring and mind-numbing. It seriously drains me off of every bit of creativity I have left." Gerard mumbled, still not convinced that he should be telling Frank all of this.

"So what made you apply for it in the first place? You weren't aware of what it means or what?" Frank wasn't going to stop his investigation.

"My parents made me," Gerard explained. "They wouldn't pay for my art school, because they thought I wouldn't be able to make a living. They said I could go when I earned for it."
Frank's brows furrowed.

"Well, why aren't you in art school now, then?" Frank couldn't understand it, because Gerard definitely saved some money by now.

"I told you already. That work made me lose my creativity," Gerard answered simply. "I wish I had other parents; because it's them who made me into what I am now. Them and their stupid advice. That work simply screwed up my life." Gerard shook his head and looked up at Frank, who nodded encouragingly. "I... refused to fully participate in the race of rats, so everybody left me behind. My friends, whose dreams were similar to mine abandoned me as soon as they found out that I'm not going to art school with them. Well, I guess they weren't my true friends then." Gerard paused. "I still don't have any friends. My co-workers are boring with their petty lives and they find me boring too. I guess that I just screw up every relationship I'm in, either friendly or romantic." He inhaled sharply and chuckled with no amusement. "Last time I was on a date was five years ago. And it was a total disaster.” Gerard looked miserable when he finished.

Frank wasn't surprised by it, only the fact that the man refused to let it show for so long. Frank found it hard not to try to somehow comfort him. It was painful to watch him suffer, especially since he got a feeling that Gerard was unhappy all the time and he only noticed it now. So playing on instinct, he sat up and wrapped his arms around Gerard's middle from behind.

"I don't understand those people," Frank whispered, searching frantically for a thing to say that would make Gerard feel better. "I'd date you if I were them." He cringed inwardly as soon as the words left his mouth, because he was sure Gerard caught on the 'if I were them'. That meant nothing was reassuring at all, because he'd just said that HE wouldn't date Gerard. He knew the man too vaguely to say he’d date him; at least that was the rational thought Frank's mind was hinting on. He was really attracted to Gerard, but it was illogical. It couldn't be true, because along with the physical attraction there was something deeper, he could feel it! But they'd met a few hours ago! Just... As hard as Frank tried, the feeling just wouldn't disappear.

"Yeah, I'm sure you would," Gerard replied with sarcasm. Frank almost sighed in relief that he didn't seem to have noticed.

"I'm serious, though," Frank nudged Gerard's side. "You're good looking and intelligent. A bit bitter, but we could work on that," Frank said truthfully, smiling softly.

"Well, are you even gay to begin with?" came Gerard's skeptical reply.

"So what if I am?" Frank shot back defensively.

"Uhm..." Gerard looked down, because he didn't expect this answer. "I'm just shocked that guys aren't all over you then, because you're pretty good looking too and sweet."

Frank involuntary smiled upon hearing the compliment, but he knew better. It was nice hearing it though.

"I'm a druggie, so no wonder no one wants me," Frank explained. That wasn't a problem, because cocaine was enough for him most of the time.

"Well, I don't know why, I bet you must be bathing in the money, you're good looking and you provide a lifetime drug supply for every person that'd be lucky enough to be your boyfriend," Gerard frowned in distress. Were drug addicts really this different to normal people?

"You don't get it," Frank got defensive. "I'm not bathing in money. I can barely afford to pay the rent, buy food and clothes. Being a druggie costs you a lot of money. I have my dealers, too," Frank confessed. He felt that Gerard completely didn't understand a thing, but that was okay, neither would he in his shoes.

"I never thought about it that way, but I still don't get the first thing," Gerard admitted after a while. Frank cocked an eyebrow in silent question. "You're such a great guy. How did you get mixed in with the wrong crowd and even try drugs?"

"It was because of my school," Frank sighed and his eyes averted to the bed sheets. He was ashamed of it and the memories weren't the happiest. "I went to a catholic school, so you know, with me being into boys it didn't really work out. But the education was great. Too bad I couldn't appreciate it at the time. Instead I began to rebel and hang out with the stoner kids and it went down from there. They introduced me to drugs and...yeah," Frank revealed, his mouth smiling, but his eyes were distant. It belonged to the past, it didn't matter anymore.

"Wow," was all Gerard said and Frank rolled his eyes at the response.

"I consider myself lucky anyway," Frank thought aloud. "It could have been worse, I mean I could have not ended up as a dealer."

"Ugh, sorry, I don't get it again," Gerard sighed. It seemed that their conversation was filled with sighs.

"I mean, I could have ended up as a prostitute. That's the most common way of earning money for drugs," Frank explained with a hint of sadness in his voice. “Most of my pupils were selling themselves. What’s worse?” He paused and looked Gerard straight in the eyes not to miss his reaction. “They didn’t even care as long as they had money for the fix.” Another sigh. “I’ve always had a strong will and it didn’t change much when I started doing cocaine”

“So that’s why you’re a dealer..?” Gerard guessed, though it still didn’t make much sense to him.

“Yep. You know, it takes a lot not to snort all the stuff. I know a lot of people that’d do it without a backward glance, but I’ve never taken more than I needed.” At least not in a while, Frank finished the sentence in his head. “You know how hard it is to control yourself when you have pockets full of everything and you could just take it all and do it and it’d be all better?”

Gerard cleared his throat awkwardly.

“No idea, sorry,” he mumbled eventually and put his arm around Frank’s shoulder. The man tensed under the touch and jumped in place after a few seconds, startling Gerard and making his arm fall to his side.

“Fuck! I should probably take some coke soon,” Frank exclaimed.

“Do you have to?” Gerard asked. That could ruin his plan a bit if Frank wasn’t sober. But then again, he probably never was sober. Maybe it wouldn’t change anything in his behaviour and the way he thought. “I mean, will it affect the plan..?”

Frank frowned.

“I think that if I took just a sniff now it’d be better than if I had to take more in, let’s say, two hours,” Frank said. He didn’t want to be under strong influence, because then maybe he’d change his mind. And he couldn’t let that happen, no way. He really wanted to end it soon, with Gerard by his side. Frank knew that without Gerard he wouldn’t be brave enough to do it. It was his only chance and he was determined to take it.

“If that’s the best solution for you,” Gerard shrugged. “But don’t take too much, alright? You have to be, uh, conscious enough. I don’t wanna...” He trailed off, because he didn’t know what he wanted to say. Force Frank to take the heroin? It’s not like Frank would regret it and not like he’d feel guilty about it. They’d be dead. So he just looked at Frank and he nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” Frank sighed and pulled out a baggie filled with white powder of his pocket. “I really...” He began, but then focused on the drug again. He carefully put some on the tip of his finger and stopped breathing for a moment on exhale. He brought the finger to his nose, getting cross-eyed for a moment before he closed his eyelids and inhaled sharply. “Where was I?” he sighed, rubbing his nose and sighing blissfully. Gerard was looking at him the whole time, genuinely interested for maybe the second time this evening.

“Umm... ‘I really’...?” Gerard answered “I have no idea what you were thinking about, though.”

Frank held up a finger, the one that was previously covered in cocaine to signalise that he was thinking.

“I know!” he exclaimed. “I was going to tell you that I think you’re really awesome and I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me.” Frank beamed and hugged Gerard tightly.

“Frank, you’re high,” Gerard stated, not letting the panic settle in, though he didn’t know how to behave around a druggie and just hugged back, hoping that his normal demeanor will do okay. And that the effect would wear off soon. Otherwise it may affect the plan rather badly.

“I know!” Frank giggled and nuzzled Gerard’s arm. Now Gerard really wanted it to wear off soon, because Frank was really cute doing that, even if it was only the drug pushing him to be affectionate. The man just got the warm, tingling sensation in his chest and though it felt good, he didn’t want it to continue. The man was a stranger. Besides, Gerard didn’t believe in love, especially the first sight bullshit. Gerard needed a syringe to his vein, not an arrow to his heart.

“Uhm, Frankie...?” he asked slowly, trying to get away from the other man. To his surprise, Frank released him.

“I’m playing tricks on you,” Frank giggled again and put his hand over his mouth. “I’m all serious now, I promise”

“Good,” Gerard sighed. “So... What’s the time..?”

"I don't know," Frank shrugged. Maybe he had a mobile phone, but couldn't be bothered to take it out of his pocket. "Check it yourself."

"Fine," Gerard pulled out his phone. It was 21 already, though he had no idea when he'd left work, so he didn't know if the time passed quickly. It wasn't that dark, so 17 maybe? "It's 21," he announced. "Shouldn't we get something ready?"