Frankie Fever

"So, are you gonna' call her again?" I questioned, looking at the scrawled number on the napkin Frank held out to me.

The red lipstick mark made me cringe. It screamed tackyness. Something you'd see in the movies or on a bad soap opera.

Frank chewed his lip thoughtfully and then shook his head with a shrug of his shoulders. Just like him; an extensive collection of unused phone numbers in a neat pile in his room. I happened to know that he sometimes used the numbers for pranking when he was bored.

I briefly considered asking what it was that made this one unworthy of his dating services but decided not to push it. Knowing my luck, he'd change his mind at the last minute and suddenly decide he did want to call her after all. That wouldn't help me in the slightest.

"How's your head now?" I asked tactfully, changing the subject.

He shrugged his shoulders enigmatically. I struggled to keep from rolling my eyes at him; concern was pointless as far as Frank was concerned but the moment you stopped showing it he got a mood on.

Frank looked pretty bad that morning. His hair was a complete mess, sticking up in black spiky clumps. He had yesterday's smudged eyeliner rimming those caramel eyes. His eyes had a bloodshot look to them. I sympathised.

No matter what, he still looked gorgeous though. I looked worse than him and I'd drunk way less than he had. I hadn't washed my hair that morning and it needed brushing and I had a red zit on my chin. And I was wearing an oversized t-shirt and baggy blue jeans. I looked like the one with the hangover. All I needed was bloodshot eyes.

"Urgh," Frank groaned, resting a hand on his head "Do you have any painkillers?"

"Aspirin," I offered, rootling through my bag.

He snatched the little pack off me and popped two pills at once, downing them with a big gulp of water from the bottle I offered. Then he popped a third and swallowed it down with more water. I stared in amazement.

He wiped his mouth calmly and looked at me. His eyebrows crossed when he saw me gawping like a fish.

"Oooh, naughty aren't I?" He mocked "Extheeding the stateh dothe!" He lisped in a good boy voice, bucking his teeth.

I frowned. Did I really act like that? Obviously, I knew I didn't have buck teeth but did I really act in that way? Frank continued to caper about, bucking his teeth and tucking his skin tight-shirt into his skin-tight pants and tucking his pants into his socks and smoothing his fringe across the side of his head like a nerd. My frown deepened.

"Oh yeth, my beth friend Frank ith a very naughty boy!" He lisped "He hath had more girlfriends than I've had hot meals! He likes to drink and extheeds the normal dothe for painkillers! Oh and he smoketh!"

He knew he was bugging me. He looked and even looked at my disapproving frown. Then he grinned cheekily and continued what he was doing. He started getting personal.

"My Daddy ith going through his permanant mid-life crisis!" He continued "And my Mother ith neurotic and house-proud. And my brother ith a little freak!"

"Is that really necessary," I said sternly, not asking.

He grinned cheekily.

"Ain't nothing but the truth!" He commented.

I stopped frowning and glared. Then I turned on my heel and walked the opposite direction.

Sure, everything he said was true but hearing it still managed to strike a nerve. He could say what he wanted about Dad, I really didn't care. But I loved my Mom the way she was; she cared about me that's why she came across as so neurotic. Mikey, well, he was a little freak but, hey, he's still my brother and I've grown up used to him!

Frank just didn't care. That was his problem. He was used to slamming his Dad and his Mom. His Dad for 'never caring and being a selfish, self-centered, imbecile who only cared about his own problems' and his Mom for 'being a stupid slut who ran away with the first guy with a flashy set of white teeth'. He automatically assumed it was okay to insult other peoples family just because he could his.

"Hey, Gerard!" The voice called.

I ignored him and marched on.

"Gerard, what the hell?" He called after me "I was only kidding! Don't be so sensitive!"

I started counting my footsteps. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

"Don't be such a baby," He added harshly.

That made me stop dead in my tracks and turn to face him.

He was trotting after as quickly as he could due to the fact that he had shorter legs than me he couldn't keep up with me when I was power-walking. He caught up with me, a sheepish smile on his smooth face. I didn't crack a smile.

"Honestly, Gee," He said with a smooth smile "You're as bad as a chick with bad timing sometimes!"

I ignored the latter of his comment. I picked out one word from them all. 'Gee'. He called me 'Gee'. Like a nickname. He was getting fond of me! He was giving me a fond little nickname. And what more, I liked it! Frankie and Gee. It made us sound like a dynamic duo! Gee, the cool one, Frank Iero's best friend.

Yes, I liked this Gee business.

* * *

The lock clicked as I opened the door and stepped into the house out of the chilly Autumn air. I stamped my feet a couple of times and unwound my black and grey scarf's embrace from around my neck. I shivered and shut the door quick.

Taped to the living room door was a note in Mom's neat print.

Gerard,
Taken Mikey to the dentist. Won't be long.

Mom xx

I smiled to myself. Now to make a peanut butter sandwich and a cup of coffee. I was hungry! And I wanted a coffee badly. So off I went towards the kitchen.

That was when I heard it.

A female grunt and inaudible words.

I slowly pushed open the kitchen door. . . And let out a horrified shriek.

There, in our kitchen, with his limbs lost with a young blonde naked woman's, was my Father.