The Art of Memories

Gerard twiddled his thumbs, watching Frank help himself to more Gin. He cleared his throat as Lucy entered the room, greeting him with a hug. Gerard felt useless on the sofa. He was just useless. And now Frank was beginning to realise that. He sighed, his shoulders low, hanging his head.
“Hey Gerard, haven’t seen you for ages,” Lucy stood in front of Gerard, tapping her foot. Gerard looked up.

Lucy was completely opposite to Jake, you’d never tell they were related. Her long, blond hair was a complete contrast to Jake’s shaggy brown hair. Her body was, well, like a porn star’s. She had a flat belly, tanned and toned. Her boob’s which she was showing off in a small vest. Her legs were long. Too long. They bored Gerard.

He looked up, “No, and I wonder why,”. His voice was rough, his throat dry. He looked away again, leaning back into the couch. Jake walked in and whispered something in her ear, his eyes shining.
“We’ll all have one,” Jake called over to Frank, who was downing shots of alcohol, he presumed. Gerard narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t want one thanks,” he said, looking up at Jake.
“Why not? Have some fun,” Jake winked, stroking Lucy’s hair as she giggled.
“I don’t need anymore fun. And I’m driving home,”
“Stay the night, we’d love you to,”. Gerard looked at Frank, searching for help, but all Gerard got was the back on Frank’s head. And his perfectly carved ass.
“Thanks, um, perha-“
“Lucy’s new partner is coming over tonight anyway, you may as well,” Jake licked his lips at Gerard.
“It’s really no-“
“Goood urdea” Frank slurred. Shit, he was already pissed and absolutely no help.

***********
You know that feeling when you’re at someone else’s house, and it’s alright for them because it’s their house. But you feel alone. And scared and you know you can’t go to bed or anything and you feel so scared and, to be quite honest, you just want your parents.

Well that’s exactly how Gerard was feeling. Frank was passed out somewhere upstairs; Lucy and her boyfriend Billie were sat on the sofa. On top of each other, literally. So that just left Jake, who was half pissed and leering at Gerard.
“Hey fag, wanna go somewhere,” he hissed at Gerard, tripping over to his side of the couch.
“I’m fine here thanks,” Gerard didn’t look at him, he carried on staring at the lone, empty glass on the coffee table.
“Wanna go check on Frankieeeee,” he dragged out Frank’s name, tracing patterns on the back of Gerard’s hand.
Gerard shook him off, “Frank’s fine,”
“I’ll go check on Frank then,” and Jake stumbled off, muttering ‘My precious baby’ to himself. Gerard felt himself shake, tears reappearing. He watched as Jake left the room. Whatever. This was all Frank’s fault. And if Frank was being an ass to Gerard, then why couldn’t he be one back.

He stood up slowly, holding onto random, passing objects to steady himself. He could vaguely remember his way around. However it took him a few tries before he found the bathroom. When he did, he wish he hadn’t. All the memories, everything that had happened here came back to him. His knees buckled, and he fell as he turned away from the doorway. A sour acidic taste rose up from his stomach, burning his throat. He had to leave. It was either leave or throw up.

Gerard was almost out of the door. Almost, because the door was locked meaning Gerard couldn’t quite leave. He was trapped. There was a back door, Gerard could remember the amount of times he’d been sent to get something from outside, while Jake spiked his drink or slipped something into his food. When he returned from his trip to get something which didn’t exist, the evening would end up with him being under Jake’s rough grip, slurring his pleads to leave. If only Gerard could remember where the actual door was. What about a window. He could always go upstairs and jump out. At least that would be better than the situation he was in right now. Or he could just crawl back to Frank and get taunted by Jake. Frank, even when completely pissed at Gerard and his lack of competence, would surely help Gerard right. Gerard fucking hoped so as he tripped over his own feet, grabbing the third stair as he fell.

***********
“Sorry,” Frank groaned, shoving a bacon sandwich in front of Gerard and rubbing his temples, “Thanks for driving home though, I owe you,”. Frank slid into the chair next to Gerard and stroked his thighs, looking up at Gerard’s pale face.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Gerard loves sex just as much as the next man, however what Gerard didn’t love was a hung-over suck-up, in other words, Frank on this very morning. Which is why Frank ended up with a bacon sandwich slapped in his face and a cold look from Gerard. Frank didn’t look up, he couldn’t face Gerard when he was like this. It was times like these when Frank questioned why they were together. They did spend a hell of a lot of time getting on eachother’s nerves and arguing over stupid little things. But that’s what you were supposed to do in relationships, wasn’t it? In movies, the girl shouts at the guy and then he hugs her and they stop arguing and apologise, but when it’s Frank and Gerard, who’s going to be the girl and who’s going to be the guy.

Usually things are tense between them both for a few days and then, slowly, they begin to get closer again. When they have sex, all of the tension there ever was has completely gone and neither of them could care less. However, that depended on Gerard. It was always Gerard. Frank held himself better. If something was bad at work, Frank would grin it and bear it whereas Gerard would hunch over his sketchbook for days, not talking to anyone and blasting grungy music to his heart’s content. In fact, it wasn’t just work, it was the same for everything. Frank felt like he couldn’t be sad. Or at least, he couldn’t show it and certainly not to Gerard. Gerard went through a lot and still did; he didn’t deserve a crappy Frank to add to it all. So Frank had his mask. Not just for Gerard, but for everyone. It was easier if he hid behind a shitty grin. However, he was glad when Gerard showed he was upset, not in some sick, twisted way, but because Frank only longed for Gerard to be happy and he wanted to do all he could. What would hurt Frank the most was if he found out that Gerard was hiding himself. So it was times like now that Frank felt a feeling of relief, relief and warm bacon fat dripping down his cheek.

He watched Gerard trudge out of their kitchen. Frank would never go after Gerard when he was like this. He would just go about his normal day, keeping a closer eye on Gerard though, watching what he did. To see how bad he was feeling. At his worst, Gerard wouldn’t eat, he would not move from his desk. He would sleep there, draw there. Of course he would get up to use the loo, but he wouldn’t wash, he wouldn’t change what he was wearing. One time, Frank could remember that he stuck sheets from his sketchbook onto his arm to keep warm. Frank offered Gerard a sweater but got no reply. It was times like that, that Frank felt lifted. He knew he could help Gerard and make him feel better. It was hard and Frank got tired, but it was worth having the real Gerard back, he could really appreciate him then.