What Happened in Vegas?!

Franks POV

For the first time since I'd first arrived here three days ago, I'd finally been able to wake up on my own. No curtains opening at obscene times in the morning, no knocking on the door so I could be fired from the one thing I actually enjoyed to do, no rubbers or shoes being thrown at me, it was great.

For some reason this morning, I had a happy feeling settled into my stomach. It's possible that Gerard and I had actually got on last night, without too many insults being thrown at one another.

I felt pretty gutted that we were married. We could have been pretty good friends without all of this shit going on. He was a good guy, and I knew that, but I couldn't appreciate it. Living with him, and especially under these circumstances has meant that we can’t appreciate the good things about one another, but instead, just the bad and the things that really get on our nerves. Also the fact that neither of us are prepared to change. You shouldn't change for someone else anyway, but someone you don’t even want to be married to is an even worse scenario!

I sat up slowly, scratching my head and noticed a piece of paper on the coffee table in front of me, neat handwriting scrawled across it. Curiosity got the better of me as I leant over and picked it up.

Frank,
I've washed some of your clothes, they're in the kitchen drying as we speak...or as you read and I write! Also, there's a paper in the kitchen for you to read. The page may just strategically be turned to the job vacancies section, so READ IT! Something good may even come out of it. There's a spare key on the counter in case you go out.
Gerard
x

I rolled my eyes at the letter before screwing it up and throwing it on the floor. I still hadn't worked out where the bin was in this place, but even if I did know, I wouldn't use it. Just because it's funny when Gerard starts having a shit fit about a sweets wrapper on the floor or something! Oh the horror. It’s now the end of the world, run in terror. No, it really isn't that bad. I've tried to explain it to him, but he just starts lecturing me about how 'mess is bad' as if I'm some kind of three year old who needs to be taught like that.

I stood up and made my way into the kitchen, scratching my head as I went, and mumbling something about pizza. I don't know why, okay! I'd just woken up and unusual things normally spewed out of my mouth. Usually it was vomit, so think your self lucky.

I glanced at the paper to see that Gerard had even gone through the page and circled certain jobs. I made myself a coffee before reading over the jobs.

Bag-packing at some super market, sweeping the left over hair and the hairdressers, sectary at the dentist, back-packing at another supermarket...

Those all suck. Sighing, I wrote down some of the addresses anyway. This may shock you, so sit down or something.

I, Frank Iero, am actually going to try and get a job! Big deal, huh?

It's only because I'm going to be lacking in money soon enough, and I don't expect Gerard to give me anything. Why should he? We're only accidental married.

I made my way into the bathroom, and showered for the first time in a few days, before changing into some actually clean clothes. I grabbed the sheet of paper where I'd written addresses or shop names and picked up the key from the counter in the kitchen and left the apartment quickly locking up, and sliding the key into my pocket.

I glared at the elevator for a short while before deciding that I wasn't ready to face two fears in one day. It was a pretty big deal for me to be getting a job.

Making my way down the stairs, I pushed on the front door and realized that I didn't know my way around this part of Jersey at all. Damn Gerard for living in a different area to me.

I guessed and turned down the road that lead left away from the apartment blocks and found a bus stop with a few people waiting there. It wouldn't kill me to get on the bus and see where it goes.

Unless a dinosaur popped up from nowhere and picked up the bus, throwing it across Jersey until it hit into my ex-band mates houses. Sure, I'd probably die in all this drama, but my bandmates would get what they deserved. Plus, it’d be pretty kick-ass for everyone else in New Jersey…or the world to be able to witness!

Aware that my imagination was getting away with me, I snapped out of my day-dream and climbed onto the bus that had just arrived, ordering myself a child ticket. What? I'm short so I get away with it!

I was dreading the idea of having an actual job. It was basically a death sentence for me. It'd be like going back to school. Having someone boss you around, because technically they can, then being yelled at for speaking your mind. Chances are I'd be bullied for being gay, because that's what it was like at school and I'm sure a job isn't much different. I'd have to wake up early in the morning and I'd have to actually do something worth-while rather than sitting on my butt all day long watching Disney Channel.

Can you see how badly this is going to effect me in the long run? Stupid Gerard, it's going to be him who'll have to deal with my moodiness.

The bus pulled into a familiar looking city area, so I quickly climbed off, not bothering to thank the driver. He's doing his job. A tonne of people do jobs without thanks, so what makes him any different?

I glanced down at the piece of paper that I'd just pulled from my pocket, and made my way to the first place on my list. It was some small store, but I don’t remember the name of it, I’d only written the address down.

After around half an hour of wondering around searching for it, I finally came across something that interested me more. There was a sign up in Starbucks that said that help was needed, and I was not about to pass that up.

I bet I could get some free stuff, if not because I work there, then because my puppy eyes are proved to be 95.7% effective. How did I know that? I didn't. I made it up, but it sounded awesome, right?

Completely dismissing my original idea to work in some super market, I opened the starbucks door, the little bell ringing above my head as I did so. I inhaled the heavenly smell and let the door swing closed behind me before I approached the counter.

"What can I get you?" the woman grumbled, obviously bored.

"A job?"

"A wh-"

"There's a sign in the window,"

"You'll have to go home and fill out these forms, and bring them back as soon as possible," she sighed, pulling some papers from the draw near to the counter she was working at.

"Forms?" I questioned, wrinkling my nose. She didn't say anything in reply, just handed me the papers before calling up the person behind me and asking for their order.

I looked over the forms and decided that maybe I wasn’t ready for a job just yet?