Status: Completed, after a three day mad rush trying to get this finished as a friend's birthday present.
Thank You for the Coffee
~ 37 Days Until Hand In ~
Frank brewed up a fresh pot of slightly stronger coffee when Gerard came in looking a little sorry for himself. Beth had frowned at him a little until he pointed out how many customers they’d had already that evening. They could more than afford it.
“Thank you” Gerard enthused, sucking down half the cup still stood at the counter whilst the drink was presumably still scalding.
“Heavy weekend, I take it?” Frank smirked, opting not to move towards the booth just yet.
Gerard shuddered, and Frank wasn’t sure whether he was joking or being serious.
“I haven’t partied that hard in a fucking long time. I knew it was dangerous letting Mikey organise everything.”
“You still haven’t recovered?”
“Nm mm” Gerard mumbled as he drained his mug holding it out for Frank. He poured in some more, amused. “Too many shots, too little sleep. It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but I’m kind of glad to be back here.”
Frank smiled, before inwardly scolding himself that Gerard meant that he was glad to be back in NY, not specifically back at Westside. He tucked Gerard’s money into the till and they made their way to the booth.
“Will you even get any work done with this hangover?”
“Probably not” Gerard groaned, and lifted his other arm to communicate that he hadn’t even brought his sketchbook. “I wanted to see you.”
Frank’s heart leapt embarrassingly and he busied himself by wiping down the tabletop.
“Oh?” he choked out.
“I needed to tell someone. Mikey and Joe don’t get it, so there’d be no point telling them.” He reached out and gripped Frank’s forearm, fingers closing incidentally over the star. Frank looked up, eyes startled and breath heavy. “Bert called.”
Frank’s lungs exhaled in a gust of air and he subtly tried to take back his arm.
“Oh, right. ...You guys gonna work things out then?”
“Maybe” Gerard said, clearly nervous with the prospect. “We’re going out. That’s why I came in; to tell you I won’t be around tomorrow night.”
Frank was positively furious with himself when he felt his spirits droop.
“Okay. Um. Good luck, I guess” he said tightly, forcing a smile when he lifted the tray. “See you Wednesday?” He hated the sound of casual desperation in his tone.
“Of course” Gerard smiled, eyes weary but sincere, as if Frank needn’t ever doubt it.
As he slid the cups into the washing up water, Frank gripped the side of the sink and blinked repeatedly, a little taken aback by whatever the fuck was going on with him.
“Frankie?” came Beth’s timid voice from around the corner. She was a little wary to disrupt him whilst he was clearly having a moment. Frankly, he welcomed the intrusion. “The fryer.”
“Thank fuck” he said to himself, eager to go and deal with something he was used to.
“Thank you” Gerard enthused, sucking down half the cup still stood at the counter whilst the drink was presumably still scalding.
“Heavy weekend, I take it?” Frank smirked, opting not to move towards the booth just yet.
Gerard shuddered, and Frank wasn’t sure whether he was joking or being serious.
“I haven’t partied that hard in a fucking long time. I knew it was dangerous letting Mikey organise everything.”
“You still haven’t recovered?”
“Nm mm” Gerard mumbled as he drained his mug holding it out for Frank. He poured in some more, amused. “Too many shots, too little sleep. It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but I’m kind of glad to be back here.”
Frank smiled, before inwardly scolding himself that Gerard meant that he was glad to be back in NY, not specifically back at Westside. He tucked Gerard’s money into the till and they made their way to the booth.
“Will you even get any work done with this hangover?”
“Probably not” Gerard groaned, and lifted his other arm to communicate that he hadn’t even brought his sketchbook. “I wanted to see you.”
Frank’s heart leapt embarrassingly and he busied himself by wiping down the tabletop.
“Oh?” he choked out.
“I needed to tell someone. Mikey and Joe don’t get it, so there’d be no point telling them.” He reached out and gripped Frank’s forearm, fingers closing incidentally over the star. Frank looked up, eyes startled and breath heavy. “Bert called.”
Frank’s lungs exhaled in a gust of air and he subtly tried to take back his arm.
“Oh, right. ...You guys gonna work things out then?”
“Maybe” Gerard said, clearly nervous with the prospect. “We’re going out. That’s why I came in; to tell you I won’t be around tomorrow night.”
Frank was positively furious with himself when he felt his spirits droop.
“Okay. Um. Good luck, I guess” he said tightly, forcing a smile when he lifted the tray. “See you Wednesday?” He hated the sound of casual desperation in his tone.
“Of course” Gerard smiled, eyes weary but sincere, as if Frank needn’t ever doubt it.
As he slid the cups into the washing up water, Frank gripped the side of the sink and blinked repeatedly, a little taken aback by whatever the fuck was going on with him.
“Frankie?” came Beth’s timid voice from around the corner. She was a little wary to disrupt him whilst he was clearly having a moment. Frankly, he welcomed the intrusion. “The fryer.”
“Thank fuck” he said to himself, eager to go and deal with something he was used to.