What Happened in Vegas?!

Gerards POV

I was pretty amazed that I was able to wake up in my own time. I half expected to be woken up by Frank wanting to be irritating just because. I slowly emerged from my duvet cocoon and trudged into the living room, where I saw Frank sprawled across the sofa, snoring softly to himself. He looked pretty damn adorable if I must say so myself. I smiled slightly and walked across the living room and into the kitchen where I made myself a coffee. I sat at the dining table, slowly drinking it, and reading through the paper from yesterday that was obviously pushed through my door while I was in Vegas. I shuddered slightly; I wish I'd never have gone there.

Finishing my coffee, I looked at the time to see that it was almost 10am. There wasn't much to do, so I stood up and made my way into the living room, and over to my drawing desk. I had to go to work tomorrow and I had kind of hoped to have some ideas for my comic down.

I absentmindedly tapped my pencil on the desk, every so often stopping to chew the end of my pencil. No ideas were springing to mind, and my thoughts were slowly clouding over with annoyance at a continuous noise.

You know when you're in a pretty much silent room, and you're trying to sleep or work, and all you can hear is a certain noise that shouldn't be there - be it an over loud clock, or a dripping tap. As soon as you've noticed that noise; Bam! that's all of a sudden all you can hear and it begins to really grate on your nerves and you can no longer concentrate or what you were doing, and all you want to do is pummel whatever is making the offending noise.
Well - that's kind of what I was feeling about Franks snoring on the sofa. I was mildly aware that Frank had mentioned having a cold the night before, but didn't really think anything of it. I understood now though, that it was some kind of hidden warning. Oh well, at least we aren't sharing a room, or else that would be an even bigger problem.

"Frank, shut the fuck up!" I groaned, grabbing a rubber from the desk and throwing it across the room. It hit Frank on the shoulder, and he shuffled slightly before rolling over and continuing with his sleep; only this time not snoring.

I smiled in success, turning around to continue thinking of some for of comic idea, until I heard it again, the snoring. I don't know how long I could put up with this, and I sure hope that Frank's cold won't last long or else I'll have to throw him out. Even though I'm technically not allowed.

I put my head into my hands, before picking up a shoe, that was for some reason placed by my desk and not by the front door, and threw it over the back of the sofa at Frank. This time it hit Frank on the head, causing him to sit up and scratch his head.

"I didn't miss detention.." I mumbled slightly, obviously recovering from a dream, looking around with a disorientated smile.

"Morning sunshine," I said, sarcastically, before turning around and carrying on with an idea that had popped to mind.

"Mor'n," he mumbled once more. "Time?"

Obviously he cannot handle more than one word after waking up. "10.30," I answered not turning around.

"Man it's early!" he groaned again. I heard him stand up, and I even heard a couple of clicks of his bones as he must've stretched out. Ew. Did I mention that, that's really gross?

"Coffee?" He asked.

"Kitchen?"

"Where else?"

I heard the short sharp shuffles of his feet on the carpet before he stepped over the threshold into the kitchen where the floor became that shiny linoleum shit that you get in hospitals so it's easy to mop up the vomit. There's a nice mental picture for ya'.

After many thuds and crashes in the kitchen, Frank returned into the room, bring a wonderful coffee scent with him. He plonked himself down onto the sofa, and put the mug on the coffee table.

"There's place mats for a reason," I said, knowing for sure that he hadn't used one with out turning around.

"Sorry, Mum," He joked, moving the mug onto a mat.

"That's husband to you,"

I heard him snort, before picking up the remote control and putting the television on, and channel surfing for a little while. I turned around when I heard a familiar brain washing song, to see that Frank was indeed watching 'Hannah Montana'.

"What the fuck?!" I asked aloud.

"What?" Frank asked, not taking his eyes from the telly.

"Why are you watching that?"

"Because I can - and there's never anything else on at this time of the morning. Plus - it's become a part of my morning routine,"

"You have enough time for one?" I asked, referring to his 'morning routine'.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, I don't really have a morning routine because I have to go to work - I'd have assumed that it was the same for you,"

"Woah! I remember more than you from before we got married. We had a conversation about employment, and I don't have a job,"

"Well, that's going to change,"

"And why's that?"

"Because we're going to need more money. I can't pay for both of us all the time,"

"I'll get money from gigs,"

"Gigs?"

"Yeah, I'm in a band,"

I snorted. "I'm sure," Was all I said before I turned around and carried on with my drawings, trying to block out the brain washing TV show playing behind me.