Use Me

I walk across the road to the coffee shop I had been recently hired at and smile at Hilda, whom was the wonderful woman who saw that I was desperate and needed a job as soon as I could get one. I had applied the day I got out, and she asked me to explain why I was there. I told her the truth, not able to lie to someone so sweet and warm hearted looking.

And here I am, the ex convict whom was trying to start fresh.

"Frank dear? Would you put on your apron and go make a batch of cookies in the kitchen? We need some fresh ones, no one likes hard ones!" Hilda said sweetly, and I nodded immediately. I won't lie, I am a amazing baking. I was in charge of baking shit at the penitentiary, and I made some money towards getting out of there. I needed something to help me pay rent at the shitty apartment I am at right now, so I could find a job and actually look decent.

"Sure thing Miss. Gaudry!" I say politely, quickly throwing the apron on quickly. I start walking to the back of the kitchen and she shouts,

"It's Hilda dear!"

I laugh a little to myself, and start to grab the eggs and flour, whistling a tune to myself. I hear the door ring, and I peer around the high set counter where I set the biscuits and spy a man wearing shades and running his hands through his rather greasy black hair. He was wearing a high end suit, but the black tie was hanging loosely around his collar.

"Can I get a coffee with 2 cream and 1 sugar? And a chocolate chip cookie?.... Can you make that two actually?" He was quiet, as if he was a little bit shy, but he seemed innocent enough, even for a man who wore sun glasses inside a coffee shop.

I went back to my work quickly, realizing his order was going to be really late. I call Hilda into the kitchen and told her we didn't have any chocolate chip cookies yet, and she rolled her eyes.

"It will be fine my darling!" she sounded so confident. This woman has been doing this for a while. I started to hurry to make the cookies, but I couldn't help but look at the man out in the seating area. He had his leg crossed over the other, sitting on the red couch, watching the fire that was burning.

This was a over night coffee shop, only open from 10 pm until 6 am, and it made no sense for this man to be here. Practically no one came in here, as it is five hours into my shift.

I put the cookies in the oven and rushed around trying to tidy up, trying my hardest not to look at the strange man again. All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my back, and I turned.

It was Hilda smiling like a villain, ushering me out of the kitchen, telling me to go talk with the man while I was waiting for the cookies. I shook my head and said,

"That doesn't sound so great Hilda."

"Nonsense!! You avoid customers like the plague! This man is new, I want him to come back! Besides, I saw you eyeing him up honey!" I roll my eyes and mutter, 'I am not gay...'

I start to walk over to the strange man, and Hilda rips the apron off of me. I groan and keep on walking and force a smile.

"Mind if I sit with you? My boss sent me over here." He grinned and nodded,

"Why not!"

"So.." I try so fucking hard to avoid situations like these....

"So! How are you?" I look to the ground at my feet, and feel like I am being suffocated. I can handle some people, but not complete strangers, unless I want to.

"I am fine, and you?" I never wanted to ask him that. But this is for the sake of my job. I don't like people.

"I am excellent. Do you work here?" Yes dumb ass. I told you my boss sent me here. I clench my teeth and swallow my tongue,

"Yeah, I am the baker and I clean." I hear the chime for the cookies ring, and I excuse myself and throw my apron on again. I heard a sound of confusion come from the man, whom I couldn't really remember his face already. That was close.

I set the cookies up on the counter, and Hilda looks at me with a raised eyebrow, and bags them in a little paper bag. She rolls the top down, to keep it warm, and hands them to me. I smile politely, but nearly die from nausea on the inside. I walk up to the man, and hand him the cookies. He smiles at me and stands. He holds his hand out, and I hesitantly take it in my own.

"Gerard, Gerard Way." I smirk and say quietly,

"Frank Iero." my voice was full of hate, and I let it be. I don't want to be touching him.

"Nice to meet you." I nod, and as he walks away, out of the door, and out of my life. I mumble,

"Pleasure."

It was little things like these I didn't like. I didn't like getting chummy with people I didn't need to be. Unless it got me somewhere, I didn't do it. It was much, much easier that way.

The rest of the shift went slowly, causing me to grow tired quickly. Hilda went home early, leaving me to close up as a 'practice run'.... Whatever that meant.

It went smoothly though, walking through the kitchen, making sure everything in the shop was turned off, flicking the breaker for the coffee machines. I counted out the money, noting we were actually making a fair amount, considering what time the restaurant was open.

It still shocked me, the fact that Hllda thought I was gay... Because the last time I checked, I was as straight as a pole. As straight was the letter 'I' on a typewriter.

I started my journey home, watching the sun slowly rise, and enjoying my coffee I took from the coffee shop. The birds were chirping happily, and the cold was just nipping at my nose. It would be the perfect scene if that Gerard guy wasn't plaguing my thoughts,

All I could think about was how friendly he was. And how damned talkative he was. I never did get to see his eyes though, and that is how I can tell if someone is trustworthy. Through their eyes.

In jail, everyone has these eyes... That are contaminated with fear and evil mixed together. Pure evil. Even a hint of pain.

Hilda though, she has these eyes that tell stories. They are also warm and welcoming. Like my grandmas were. And she likes the smell of coffee. I mean, your pretty awesome if you want to make coffee accessible at night time too, for the caffeine addicts.

My eyes though, you can't read them. I won't let people. I can't read them myself. They don't say anything. They say 'get the fuck away' and that is how I like them.

I finally reach my apartment,and make my way up the stairs to my little home. It wasn't great, but it was hard earned and better than the streets. The bakery program really saved my life.

I take out my battery in my phone so I knew I wouldn't have any interruptions during my sleep. I need to keep my job, therefore I cannot sleep in. Whatsoever.

I fall onto my bed and slowly pull my sheets up over my body. Finally. A actual day out in Belleville, working and then coming home. The reality I had before the bullshit that put me in jail happened. What I wanted. What I needed.

No friends. No partners. Only wake up, go to work, go home, sleep.

Normality.