This Elevator Only Goes Up to Ten

"I have the song," I said to Frank a couple hours later. We made out for a while, and I couldn't get the images of having sex with Frank. Making love, whatever. I was falling in love with him. Sure, we kissed a lot, but I was in love with him as a person.

"Awesome, sing it for me," Frank turned his body so he could watch me.

"I only have about half of it right now, and it probably isn't that good."

"Sing it, I don't care. I'll listen to you the whole time."

"Okay." I cleared my throat. I hoped I wouldn't mess up.

"The amount of pills I'm taking, counteracts the booze I'm drinking.

"And this vanity I'm breaking, lets me live my life like this.

"And well I find it hard to stay, with the words you say.

"Oh baby let me in.

"Oh baby let me in.

"Well I'll choose the life I've taken, never mind the friends I'm making.

"And the beauty that I'm faking lets me live my life like this.

"And well I find it hard to stay, with the words you say.

"Oh baby let me in.

"Oh baby let me in.

"And you can cry all you want to, I don't care how much.

"You'll invest yourself in me, we're not working out.

"We're not working out.

"And you can't touch my brother and you can't keep my friends.

"And we're not working out, we're not working out.

"This time I mean it, never mind the times I've seen it."

Frank stared at me in amazement as I finished. "That's all I have so far," I said.

"Holy crap that's really good," Frank said, mouth open.

"Well, you can play guitar. And I'm not that good."

"Dude, you're good enough to start a band." I could tell by the look in his eyes that he meant it.

"You mean it? Or are you messing with me?" I messed with Frank's hair. He shook his head, annoyed.

"Stop touching the hair! I worked hard on it!"

"Yeah, like a week ago," I said sarcastically

But Frank didn't hear me. He was distracted.

"What's that?" He asked, pointing at the elevator door. There was a small trim of light coming through between the doors. Now even long enough to stick your pinky through or try to look through it.

"Is the elevator opening?" I asked stupidly.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Frank shouted. "Get us out! Please!" We started banging on the door and the wall, hoping someone would hear. They had to know that the elevator was broken and that there was a chance of someone being stuck in here.

"Help us! Please! We need to get out! We've been in here for days, maybe weeks, help us! We're hungry, we ran out of food days ago! Help us. Help us help us help us." Frank was pleading now. Tears covered his face. I grabbed my Misfits shirt off of the camera and yelled at it. Frank started beating his head against the door, trying to stick his fingers through the crack.

"Help us," he whimpered. "Help me. Please."

Frank fell to his knees, still banging on the door. I watched him. Then he stopped. He gave up. He knew it was useless, nobody could hear him. I stared at his beatiful body, the body I had loved only a few hours ago, the body that hugged me, the body I hugged. The body that accepted me for who I was, unlike so many other people.

I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged me away. I stepped back. Even when Frank was at his worst he let me touch him, hold him, whatever. But this time he pushed me away. And I don't know why, but it hurt me. I could fell the tears in my eye, I felt them fall.

"You fucking bastard!" I shouted at Frank as I hit him. I felt the impact as I hit his skin, and I saw the way he flinched when my hand touched his skin. I regreted hitting him right as I did it, I didn't mean to cause pain. My emotions took over.

Frank finally turned around to look at me, his eyes full of fear. It broke my heart. I suddenly couldn't see anything around me, I couldn't stand. Frank caught me before I hit the ground. I was shaking, and he was shaking. He was afraid I was going to hit him again, I could feel it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry."

"I forgive you," Frank said. He was trying to sound strong, but it made him sound more weak.

"But I can't take it back. I'll never be able to take it back. Me seeing you react when I hit you. I can't ever take that back!" My voice raised more than I wanted it to.

Frank put his finger on my lips, silencing me. "I know. I said I forgive you." Frank replaced his finger with his lips, and I moaned at his touch. My insides were exploding with happiness, pleasure, lust, and other things that can't be described.

I pushed myself away from him, but not because I didn't want to keep kissing him, because trust me, I never wanted to stop.

"What's wrong?" Frank asked.

"I'm hungry," I admitted. "I'm so hungry. And I know my body won't be able to adapt to it. I'm probably going to die. I don't want to die in a damn fucking elevator." I slammed my fist into the wall next to me.

Frank didn't flinch at my sudden burst of anger. "We'll get out of here soon. It's only a matter of time."

"No, Frank, face the truth! We are never getting out of here! Never! By the time someone comes, we will be dead!"

Frank shook his head. "Please, don't say that Gerard."

"I can't lie to you, Frank, I'm just telling you the truth."

"You don't know it's the truth!" Frank screamed. He pushed my chest, stood up, and walked to the opposite corner of the elevator. He wept himself to sleep.

And this time I didn't watch him.