When We're Both Thirty

The last thing Gerard wants to do with his Monday morning is go out and try to find a job. The first thing he wants to do is laze around the house all day and sing along way too loud to music that will have his neighbors slamming on his door and telling him to turn it the fuck down. He can’t do that though because rent is due soon and he has literally no money to pay it.

Despite his hatred for it, Gerard winds up wearing a suit that doesn’t suit him in the slightest, and he has to comb his hair back and he just looks like a mess who’s never used soap. He hasn’t, really, but he doesn’t want to look it.

So a few hours later, Gerard totally bombs an interview because he has bags under his eyes the size of carry-ons, and he just has a bad attitude in general. He doesn’t think much of it, really. He makes his way to his coffee shop, pays for the drink that he really can’t afford and then he sits in the back of the place doodling on the daily newspaper he picked up in the front. He draws a few mustaches and mono-brows on some politicians, and he basically acts like a six year old before his phone starts buzzing at him from his pocket.

He groans, looks down at the caller ID, and then sighs in relief when he sees that it’s Mikey and not Frank.

“What do you want?” is still what he opens with when he answers the phone. No one actually talks on the phone anymore, how do you pick a phone up?

“I’m glad to hear you’ve retained your peachy attitude over the years,” Mikey replies, “so how was your date with whoever the hell your date was with?”

“He was, like, I don’t know. To be honest, we didn’t talk much about him.”

“What did you talk about then?”

“That’s not important,” Gerard says, “What the fuck do you want?”

“I would appreciate some manners, Gerard.”

“Whatever do you want, darling brother?”

“I do not appreciate the sarcasm,” Mikey says, “are you allergic to kindness?”

“Yes.”

“Well okay. Just wanted to ask if you were doing anything tonight, but that’s more of a formality than anything else, so you’re showing up tonight whether you like it or not.”

“How do you know I don’t have things to do?” Gerard asks. Mikey snorts on the other end like he just told a joke.

“Well, Gerard. If you can come up with an excuse that I believe than I will let you ditch,” Mikey dares him.

“I have to make an appearance somewhere else,” Gerard says hesitantly.

“Where? A comic book addicts support group? Try again, bro.”

“I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“No way you have an appointment that late, you don’t. Try again.”

“I have to slay a dragon, rescue the princess and return her to the narcissistic king in order to save my home,” Gerard says.

“That is the plot of Shrek.”

“It’s also the plot of my life,” Gerard replies.

“You’re coming,” Mikey tells him.

“Ugh why?”

“Because I said so.”

“You’re not my mom, I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Well no, if I were your mom, I’d make you fuck Frank, but I am above that, so all I’m asking is for you to hang out with me tonight,” Mikey says.

“I’m not going to be able to argue myself out of this one am I?”

“Nope.”

“As long as you pay, I guess I’m in,” Gerard replies.

“Good. So I’m guessing you totally screwed up your interview today then?”

“Is it that obvious?” Gerard asks, picking at the decal on the center of the coffee table mindlessly. He’s probably being rude talking in the middle of the place, but he doesn’t care, and no one is telling him to stop so he’s not going to. Besides, he’s like thirty percent of this places’ revenue so it’s not like they’re going to show him the door.

“You’re never going to get a job are you?”

“Thank you for the confidence,” Gerard says, scowling, “I’ll have you know, I am marginalized by the color of my hair.”

“Oh yeah, that’s it. It’s not your unimpressive résumé, lack of any expertise in any particular subject, or bad attitude. No, it’s your hair.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Gerard replies.

“Yeah, whatever. I will see you tonight then. Text you details later.”

“Why are you so adamant to get me to show up anyway? I mean, it’s a Monday night!”

“No questions, just show up.”

“Whatever,” Gerard says, and the phone clicks and Mikey’s gone. Gerard groans, because, really, he’s never understood a single part of Mikey’s brain. The boy just seems to use a different type of logic than a normal human being. It makes for really entertaining games of Cards Against Humanity, but you should never ever try to have a logical discussion with him. Somehow, he’ll make you believe that geese are celestial beings and you won’t even know how he got you to think it.

Gerard just sort of lounges around for a few hours. He doesn’t have anything else to do. He does some grocery shopping because his refrigerator is starting to smell like a dead camel.

No one ever told Gerard that when he got older he’d actually have to be in charge of buying groceries. Like that was never something that occurred to him. He literally just assumed that pop tarts would magically appear in the pantry every other week. Then he got older and had the realization that if he wants to make cereal, he has to buy the cereal. No one ever told him he’d have to pay bills either. Like that’s just not okay. And what the fuck is rent? Why does he have to pay to not be homeless? It all seems so grown up, and Gerard is not an adult. He’s a small teenager pretending to know what he’s doing, who just so happens to a have a major case of blue balls. Life is hard.

Gerard winds up in another bar, smaller than the one he was in last night on his abysmal date. He really doesn’t know why he’s here. If only his brother weren’t his best friend he’d be able to get out of things so much easier, but unfortunately, Gerard is not good at making friends. All of his friends are people he regularly pays, like his friends at the coffee shop, or comic book store. Basically, they’re all prostitutes, but like, in a friend way.

Gerard walks in, and it’s a Monday so there’s barely really anyone there, because people have jobs to go to in the morning. Not Gerard, but some people, he’s sure.

Gerard spots Mikey, he’s not sure how, because the dude is so thin that you can’t even see him from the side. Then he spots the person sitting next to him and he’s about to run away screaming. He really is going to but then Mikey, who has a second set of eyes, Gerard swears it, and he gives him this snakelike expression that makes his gut shrivel up and hide for cover.

Gerard’s body just carries him across the place, he’s not even aware of moving his feet, he just feels them moving for him, and then he’s looking down at Mikey like he’s either going to claw his face off or dismember him. Gerard’s literally going through every episode of every cop show he’s ever seen and looking for the most creative method of murder that he can pull off.

“Gerard, you’ve met Frank,” Mikey says, gesturing to the guy sitting right next to him, who grins up at Gerard, looking smug.

“How did you even get ahold of him?” Gerard asks.

“Uh, duh,” Mikey says, “I stole your phone.”

“Bitch,” Gerard says.

“So I hear your date sucked,” Frank says, “Which you should really be held accountable for, because Brendon is great.”

“If he’s so great than why don’t you date him?” Gerard snaps, and he sits across from the two of them, wishing very much that someone would just take him out of his misery right now.

“Well, uh,” Frank scrambles for a comeback but instead he just flips Gerard off.

“Don’t worry, Gerard. His date was just as bad as yours,” Mikey reassures.

“Dude,” Frank says, scowling at Mikey.

“Hey! I am a neutral party.”

“You’re my brother,” Gerard says emphatically.

“Which is precisely why I really should hate you,” Mikey says, “brothers are supposed to hate each other.”

“But ultimately be there for each other at the end of the day,” Gerard reminds him.

“Gerard, I believe you’ve been watching way too many Disney movies. Don’t go pulling no ‘Ohana means family’ shit on me.”

“Why is Frank even here?” Gerard asks, getting distracted by the way Frank keeps looking at him with a vengeance in his eyes.

“Because we were friends in high school and I thought the best time to catch up would be while you two were at each other’s throats. Or should I say, the most entertaining time to catch up.”

“Why are you even friends with Mikey then?” Gerard asks Frank.

“He’s not you, mainly,” Frank says.

“Mikey, I am disowning you. From now on, you will not be a part of my will.”

“Gerard, having a will implies that you could leave me some money after you die. You have no money,” Mikey says, and Frank laughs. Apparently Gerard’s pain and suffering is funny to him.

“Shut up, fuckhead.”

“Make me, shitdick.”

“You could cut the sexual tension with a knife,” Mikey says monotonously. This prompts Gerard to kick Mikey under the table and Frank to elbow him.

“Not funny,” Frank says.

“But oh so true.”

“I am not attracted to Frank!” Gerard says, which he feels like he’s said countless times before.

“No, maybe not romantically, but the both of you find each other hot. I can tell. A guy just knows these sort of things.”

“No, that is not something a guy just knows,” Frank says.

“But I do know.”

“You know nothing.”

“I know quite a bit about Jack the Ripper. And the Lost City of Atlantis. And sea anemones,” Mikey states in his completely toneless voice so that Gerard’s not even sure if he’s joking around or not. He must be, but then again, this is Mikey. He could confess to a murder to a cops face, and yet you still wouldn’t even be sure if he’s telling the truth. Do not ever, for any reason, play poker with Mikey. Ever. You could play Operation maybe, his hand eye coordination isn’t up to par, but if you play poker with him, prepare to lose your bank account, and the keys to your house.

“You haven’t changed in the slightest have you Mikey?” Frank asks, looking at him and doing his best to ignore Gerard. Gerard’s just trying to ignore the fact that Mikey is fucking right. Like he pinned the nail on the donkey there, because yes, Frank is very attractive, and yes, Gerard hates him, but at the same time, yes, he’s so hot that Gerard has to force himself not to look directly at him for too long.

“Not true. I have more humor now,” he says.

“You have as much humor as the bottom of my shoe,” Gerard says.

“I didn’t know your shoe was so whimsical.”

“Why am I even here?” Gerard asks.

“I wanted to get it on camera when you two kill each other,” Mikey shrugs. “Or start making out. Whichever comes first.”