Dark Blue.

The two men had found themselves inside the very same coffee shoppe that Frank had been in hours before, sipping shortly at their lattes and adding noise to the mindless chatter that accompanied them.

“So where you from?” Frank asked, in his thick New Jersey accent, sniffing and swallowing his gulp of coffee. “I mean, you seem way too… sophisticated to be from anywhere ‘round here.”

Gerard laughed, throwing his head back and showing his little tick tack teeth. “I’m from Newark, actually.”

Frank’s eyes widened. “You're shitting me, right?” His companion shook his head and Frank’s jaw dropped.

“But that’s such a fucked up place!” he gushed, jaw almost dislocated. “How did you turn out so nice?”

“Don’t know,” Gerard shrugged, chuckling, “maybe it was my mother, she made sure that my brother and I always used our manners and folded our underwear.”

Frank smiled sadly, wishing that he had a mother that seemed as caring as that. Even they turned out to be annoying, it didn’t stop him from imagining a love filled, adoring mother and a hardworking, caring father whose lives were perfect in every single way and bore a son that was the same. It just seemed unfair that it wasn’t true.

“Mm,” Frank finally said, after a couple of minutes, “sounds nice.”

He could see it now; they were all living in a posh house with one—no, two dogs lying lazily on its front lawn while his mother was watering the roses and his father was behind her, briefcase in hand and giving her a hearty kiss on the cheek, signifying that he was about to leave.

Frank closed his eyes and smiled. It was a nice thought and he sighed in content. Though he couldn’t see it, Gerard’s eyebrows furrowed from the sound.

“Are you alright?” he asked, head cocking to the side slightly in question. “Frank? Are you okay?”

However, Frank was lost in his dream of his perfect life.

Maybe there’d be a garage in the backyard too. So I’d actually have a place to practice, instead of being yelled at my mum for being ‘too loud’…

“Frank?”

…and I’d actually know my father. He’d be all nice to me and let me wear whatever I wanted to dinner parties, even if it was just a wife beater and some track pants.

“Hello?” Gerard said, beginning to panic, hands held out in front him. “Frank? Are you still there?”

What would he look like? He’d probably be short too, like… I don’t know, five foot two or something. And he’d have dark hair, like mine—

“Frank!” Gerard cried out in desperation, causing heads to turn their way and the other man to jump out of his thoughts.

“Sorry?” Frank replied, blinking and shaking his head. Gerard let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank god, I thought you had left.”

Frank blushed in embarrassment. “I wouldn’t leave, that’d be rude.”

“It hasn’t stopped anyone before,” Gerard laughed, once again smiling up to his ears.

“Well trust me, I won’t leave,” Frank started firmly, his smile starting to join Gerard’s, “not without saying goodbye, at least.”

They had finally finished their coffees and left, leaving their change on the table and yelling to the counter to keep the change. They began walking, Frank didn’t know where but Gerard said to trust him and said that he had stumbled upon it before. Frank decided to comply and began to make up conversation.

“So what’s your favourite colour?”

That caused Gerard’s mouth stretch into a grin, happy to finally found a person to say it so nonchalantly, uncaring to the fact that he couldn’t see. Even though he might’ve failed to show it, he hated his condition—as much as anyone would—but kept it all a secret.

“I’d say that my favourite colour is dark blue,” he replied, shrugging and forever smiling.

Frank nodded and caught himself before bursting out in hysterics. “Really? That’s mine too.”

But then again, Gerard couldn't help his curiousity.

“Don’t you find it a little strange that a blind person has a favourite colour?”

Frank scoffed and shrugged, “not really.”

Gerard's brows raised in question, urging Frank to elaborate.

“I mean like, a mute person is mute, right? But they can still have a favourite book,” Frank went, explaining. “And a deaf person is deaf, but they can still have a favourite song.”

“I’m…” Gerard began, face scrunching up into a confused expression. “I’m not following you.”

“Well… you can talk and you can speak but can’t see. A mute person can’t talk, but can still read a book to themselves and a deaf person can’t hear, but can still feel the song through themselves,” he continued. “You can speak and hear, but you can’t see. Therefore, even though you can’t see the colour, you can still hear what it’s called and imagine that specific colour right in front of you, unlike most.”

“Uh,” Gerard started, opening his mouth and closing it. “I kind of get where you're coming from…”

“That’s good,” Frank replied, before he realized where Gerard was taking them.

He was standing face to face with a fantastic view, one of the afternoon sun in the distance and a sandy beach below him. Frank watched as Gerard felt around the rocky cliff, looking for a place to sit down and rest. Frank joined him once he sat down.

“You know what?”

“What?” Frank said, looking at his reflection in his company’s sunglasses.

“I’m glad I met you,” Gerard smiled, turning towards Frank. “It’s happy for me to see that I finally found a person that actually has a better view.”

Frank's face curled up in confusion. “Huh?”

Gerard laughed. “I mean, you’ve got a great view on life.”

Frank’s brows and mouth curved downwards in a confused frown, silently asking what the hell this new friend of his was talking about.

“…’Cause you know, most people?" Gerard went on, looking straight into the ocean in front of them.

“Yeah?”

“Most people don’t believe what can’t see with their own two eyes,” Gerard smiled again, his hair beginning to fall into his face.

“…And that means?” Frank asked, still confused.

“I don't know,” Gerard began, pursing his lips. “I guess I’m saying that in a way, I’m glad that I’m blind.”

That particular statement caused Frank to widen his eyes in complete surprise. “What?”

Gerard decided to continue on, completely disregarding Frank’s question.

“’Cause if I wasn’t, I would’ve never met you," he continued. “And even though we’ve only known each other for a few hours… I’m really glad I did.”

Frank’s mouth dropped in sudden compassion and feeling, opening his mouth to speak but was soon cut off.

“You’re the only person I’ve met that hasn’t judged me.”