The Enigma’s Anomaly

The door opens and I jump in surprise.

Satan is probably laughing at me. Fuck him.

I’m glad I kept it hidden under my jacket because I easily put the pistol back into my jacket without Gerard noticing.

I don’t turn around immediately because I’m too busy swearing at the heavens. Gerard turns quickly though, just as suddenly as the door had opened. Couldn’t whomever it is have knocked? I thank god that I didn’t shoot Gerard while someone was just outside though. That would have been bad.

I remember to turn and look to see who it is, though I expect for it to be the assistant. It’s not her though.

It’s a guy, for one thing, and his height makes me feel like a dwarf. He’s fucking attractive though. He’s blond, it looks bleached. He’s frowning, and he doesn’t look like the kind of guy that smiles a lot. He has a pretty sharp looking face. You could slice bread on his cheek bones.

I should probably say something because now I’m just standing looking at him.

“Oh hey Mikey,” Gerard says, “what’re you doing here?”

Using my master powers of intuition I guess that this guy is named Mikey. I know, I’m a real Sherlock Holmes.

“Uh... who’s this?”

“This is Frank,” Gerard says, “He’s a journalist.”

“Journalist?” Mikey asks looking down at me. I don’t like being short enough to look down on. He’s probably taller than Gerard, but I can’t be sure since I haven’t really seen Gerard on his feet all that much.

“He’s writing about me,” Gerard says and I turn to look at him. He’s smiling like the fucking dork that he is.

“You? You’re not interesting in the slightest. Who’d read anything about you?”

I look back at the Mikey fellow and he looks so stern. I’m sure he’s kidding, but I don’t see a hint of a smile on his face.

“Oh, sorry Frank. This is my brother, Mikey,” Gerard says. “He’s an ass.”

“Thanks for the love,” Mikey says. Huh, he kind of looks like Gerard. Not overly, but I see it now that I know they’re related. Same nose, and forehead structure. Not as cute as Gerard though.

Gerard answers, “Yeah yeah. Why are you here?”

“Because you’re an idiot who forgot that we were supposed to meet up for lunch today.”

I look back to Gerard who walks over to stand next to me and he makes a face, “I did forget didn’t I?”

“Well you’re dumbass, I’m not surprised.”

I wish Gerard knew how ironic it is that Mikey just saved his life. This tall lanky bastard is the only reason Gerard’s breathing.

I suppose that I could kill them both, but that doesn’t seem fair. That’s an unneeded death. I don’t want to do that, because Mikey didn’t do anything. Probably. Besides I can’t imagine how hard that would be on their family. One death is already pretty hard, I couldn’t take two of them.

“We can still go,” Gerard says checking his watch. “Frank, you should come with.”

What’s the point? I’m not going to be able to kill him with his brother right there.

“No, I’ll-“

“I insist,” Gerard says, “unless you have somewhere else you need to be?”

“No I just don’t want to intrude or-“

And again with the interrupting, “You wouldn’t be. Might keep me from killing Mikey.”

Yeah, and Mikey’s going to keep me from killing you, you little fucker. Why does he want me to come though? He must be way too nice, because there’s no possible reason for him to want to hang out with me.

“Come on, Frankie, please?”

Jesus fucking Christ did he just call me Frankie? I usually punch people in the face for doing that. I actually have swung at a few guys for that nickname. Why does it sound nice when Gerard says it?

No. No, this cannot be happening. I cannot let Gerard call me Frankie and get to me like that. He cannot have nicknames for me and I can’t for him either. He cannot be anything more than a target. That’s that.

“No, I can’t go.”

“Are you sure? Why not?”

“Just... ugh, I have to be somewhere. I’m gonna go,” I say, and I sound angry. I don’t meant to sound like that, but I cannot get close to Gerard. I can’t.

I awkwardly nudge past Mikey, who shifts to allow me to leave, and I walk out the door. That wasn’t embarrassing at all. And by ‘not at all’ I mean a shit-ton of embarrassment.

I can’t get close to him, though. I can’t risk being caught onto by instigating a friendship. He would agree if he understood our circumstances.

If you were to ask me, it’s better to be shot point blank by someone you don’t know rather than someone you know well. When it’s someone you know, it’s called betrayal, and that’s about a hundred times worse. It’s like being stabbed in the heart only worse because you die emotionally before you die physically.

I don’t want to become close enough to Gerard for it to be considered betrayal. Where I stand right now is much better. We’re nothing more than acquaintances, and he’s known me for a day and half. That’s not betrayal. I don’t think.

I float off in the direction of my home and barely process what I’m doing until I collapse on my couch. I feel miserable today. I hate this all. I hate that I don’t hate Gerard.

I don’t want to be in this situation anymore. I want to put the undercover work to bed and kill him. Speaking of bed...

I’m feeling way too tired considering how much sleep I got. I want to just wash all this emotion away. I decide that that’s a good idea and get ready to take a shower. Maybe by washing up, I can wash the feeling away.

After a minute of undressing I take a look at myself in the mirror and sigh. I’m not really the typical looking contract killer. Generally people would like for their paid murderer to be able to ride a rollercoaster. I look at myself and see the beginnings of vague bags under my eyes, but I disregard them.

For a moment I eye my ink as well. I rub my hand against the scorpion crawling up my neck before groaning and stepping into the little glass box of a shower.

It’s relaxing to melt after today. I don’t know why it’s getting to me so much. I was so close though. So close. I could’ve just taken that shot, but then where would I be? A jail cell probably. Maybe it’s a good thing that I didn’t get to take the shot.

Maybe it’s a sign from the universe that I shouldn’t kill Gerard.

Naaaaaaaah.

I wash my hair quickly and keep thinking about how close I was. I had him alone. I had Gerard alone and I still didn’t get to kill him.

There are a few other things I’d like to do to him while alone. Oh god no I can’t be thinking those things! I keep reminding myself and yet it never seems to compute. He’s off limits! Why doesn’t my brain get that message?

Still, I feel a little light headed thinking about him. Wait, I know that feeling.

I look down and confirm my suspicion. Yeah, that’s not good. Please don’t let that be Gerard’s fault.

I sort of have a hard on. Not good.

How can it be Gerard’s fault though? I barely know the dude. He’s just a really dorky guy who likes comics. Okay sure he’s hot, with his messy hair and his dimples. His little nose, pale skin, high-pitched laugh, small little upturned smile, and the way he uses his hands to talk.

Oh shit.

I can’t believe this, no way. No way... or well actually ‘No Way.’

I have to make this thought go away. This is insane. He’s just a guy. Just a random, good looking dude. He’s no one special.

I picture his red hair and his smile and oh god it’s not going away. This can’t be happening.

I decide the best thing to do is to just... to just freaking roll with it. I grasp myself and I can’t even keep that stupid motherfucker out of my head. He won’t go away, which is making this so much worse. In fact, Gerard is the only person I can picture, and I can’t believe what I’m doing right now.

At least I’m in the shower I guess. Thinking about Gerard makes my heart race, a little bit out of guilt and also something else, but I’m not sure what.

It doesn’t really sink in what’s happening until I literally cum onto my hand.

Oh my god what did I just do? Shit! I cannot believe this. I’ve known Gerard for a day. A day. I cannot have feelings for him, that’s crazy.

I just completely jerked off thinking about Gerard. This is not happening.

I can’t believe this. How did I let myself do this? This is messed up. I’m not supposed to like him let alone be attracted to him. I’m supposed to crush him, not have a crush on him.

How did I end up being this hopeless? What the fuck is so special about Gerard Way that made me attach myself to him? Why does someone want him killed? What the hell is wrong with the universe?

Maybe this is what I get for my past. Some fucking dick up in the sky is laughing down at me like I’m a bad game of Sims.

After a minute I come to a decisive conclusion.

I am so fucked.

Okay, I’m so fucked!

So so so so fucked.

I am FUCKED.

Fucking fucked.

So Fucked.

How fucked am I? So.

In other words: Frank Iero is incredibly screwed.

In French: Je suis tellement baisé

Now once in Romanian: Sunt atât de futut

In a song: Totally Fucked from Spring Awakening.

A haiku:
I am so damn fucked
Time for me to self-destruct
Because I am fucked

Now to summarize: I. Am. So. Fucked.