The Hunger In My Heart

The room is musty and the curtains remain drawn, shutting the two men out from the rest of the world. There is a faint smell of illness in the air and Gerard can’t help but wonder if Frank would slowly rot inside this room if given the chance. As he steps deeper into the container, he clicks the door shut behind him before staring up at Frank in unease.

His face looks more gaunt than it did a few days ago when he bounded unexpectedly into his house. The slightest shiver works his way up Gerard’s spin as he thinks back on how awkward the situation had been, how easily he had bought into Frank’s cracked acceptance. He had so desperately wanted the guitarist to approve he naively jumped into the possibility.

Frank stands, emptily, in the middle of the room, his thin arms hanging lifelessly at his side. As Gerard observes him, he can’t help comparing the comatose man before him, with the one he used to know; the one who’d throw himself devotedly across the stage every night letting nothing but music take over his mind.

“So, how have you been?” the unwanted man asks, folding his arms over his chest protectively whilst waiting for Frank to say something that would surely rip his heart to shreds. Although the suffering man may find it hard to believe, he, Gerard, actually does care about his well being; he understands that he hasn’t made it clear in the last six months - a fact that he loathes himself for. Gerard suddenly realises that his attempt to make conversation was feeble.

“What do you care?” Frank replies bitterly, staring directly into Gerard’s unfamiliar eyes, they
no longer leak with the love he had once held for the dying man. Frank’s lack of energy starts to kick in as he feels his knees begin to tremble beneath his weight, slyly he goes
over and sits on the edge of the bed.

Gerard watches, transfixed as the bed beneath Frank. Barely lowers beneath his weight- the same bed that had provided him with one of the happiest and saddest nights of his life. Briefly he closes his eyes and remembers the forbidden touch of Frank’s skeletal hand, the silk of his ivory skin above him…

The memory hurts too much and he forces his eyes open, only to be met with Frank’s defiant expression.

What am I going to do? Gerard questions himself regressively. I’ve ruined him, my best friend. I don’t know the man sitting in front of me, he’s not the person I used to know and…love, he’s a manifestation of a disease. I have to make things right, as best as I can. I want my Frankie back.

Having ignored Frank’s previous question Gerard wonders idly over to the bed and sits beside his friend. The mattress sinks unhappily beneath the added weight.

“Talk to me Frank. Please.” the offending man begs, twisting his body to face Frank’s fragile being. His warm hands long to reach out and comfort his best friend.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Why have you locked yourself in here Frank?” he longs to add the ie to the end of the stranger name, but he knows it isn’t his place. The man beside him is no longer his Frankie, he had no right to impose himself upon this new Frank.

“Why do you think?”

Cleverly Frank answers Gerard’s questions with another question in order to avoid giving any information away. Although, he longs to scream and cry into his band mates chest, weep and confess every single feeling disturbing his mind. Tell him how much he hates and loves him at the same time, ask the million and one questions that keep him awake at night. But instead, he just sits, his hands clasped together- a sly way to trying to warm up his exposed limbs, and waits for the next question.

“Frank I‘m sorry. I really am, I just, I wanna make things right again. That‘s why I‘ve come.” Gerard says, after a few minutes of silence. He figures that he may as well just cut to the chase or else the conversation would get lost in the mist of silence.

“Are you?” Frank questions looking beside him at a nervous Gerard. He’s never felt so far away from his former lover even though they’re sitting right beside each other- even when he was cooped up in the clinic he felt physically, mentally and emotionally closer to his to the man beside him. Frank’s eyebrows crawl upon his pale forehead, is he really sorry? He questions, does he even know what he’s apologising for? A tiny prickle begins to build behind his dark eyes.

“I am Frank, I swear I am. I never wanted any of this believe me.”

I never wanted any of this
I never meant the things I did
The hurt that came so naturally
The hurt I remorsefully hid.

Another verse of the song Frank had been playing previously rang alarmingly through his head. Of course, Gerard is unaware that he’s used the opening phrase.

The tiny prickles build up suddenly and Frank realises what they mean. He is going to cry.

No way, I am not going to cry, not now! I swore to myself I will not show anyone any true
emotion, I’m not going to allow myself to fail! Frank booms angrily at himself silently whilst blinking his dampening lashes at a monstrous pace.

“Frank?” Gerard looks over at his friend who appears to be having some sort of battle. “oh…
Frank please." instinctively Gerard leans over and pulls Frank’s boyish body into his arms protectively. To his surprise he doesn’t fight within his grasp, instead he melts into the shape of Gerard’s body, crying heavily into his chest. “I‘m so sorry Frank, so sorry.”

“I can’t do it Gerard. Not anymore.” he bawls heavily into his protectors black waist Jacket letting go of the control he’d been building since he’d escaped the confines of the clinic. He finds it somewhat ironic how Gerard is protecting him yet the only thing, in Frank’s mind that
he needs protecting from is, Gerard.

“What do you mean?” Gerard whispers into Frank’s greasy- short hair. I miss his walnut locks, Gerard decides nostalgically. I miss the way they used to tickle my cheek when we would kiss.

“I‘m tired Gee, and I‘m in so much pain. I hate it. I don‘t want to live anymore.” Frank heaves before bursting into a new load of tears. Gerard sits frozen at the name he had been called. gee it doesn’t feel right to him. Am I still Gee? His Gee? He feels the muscles in his throat begin to burn as they contract rebelliously. No, I can’t cry, not now. I have to be strong for Frank.

“Don‘t you ever say that Frank. It‘ll pass, I promise you, all this mess, it‘ll be gone soon- you‘ll laugh about it in a few months- I promise.”

“No I won‘t” Frank argues, still glued to his friends chest. He’s terrified to let go, now he has Gerard where he belongs, he doesn’t want to ever release him. Frank is suddenly aware of how childish he’s being, he’s lost everything with the illness, his morals, life and even his
self.

Gerard rocks Frank’s trembling body back and forth trying to comfort his child like body. It really is impossible to believe the man is in his twenties. Gradually, Frank begins to calm down and finds the strength the pull away from his friend. He stares longingly, sadly, through his wet lashes at the man sitting beside him.

“It hurts Gerard. It‘s been hurting for too long.”

“I want to take your pain away Frank, believe me.” he answers earnestly, imagining the million impossible ways he could make Frank happy and healthy again.

“Then take it.” Frank replies suddenly, bringing his legs up on the mattress and slowly leaning towards Gerard. “Just for thirty seconds.” his eyelids slide shut as he moves closer.

“What, no! Frank. That‘s not what I meant.” Gerard says, jumping out of the way in shock. Frank’s eyes rip open and the hurt and desperation is swimming on the surface of his eyes once more.

“But-”

“Please Frank, don‘t make this harder.” Gerard shuffles back to where he was sitting a few seconds ago and Frank gains control of himself. “I‘m sorry.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Frank-”

“Why are you even here Gerard? Really?” his sadness falls into anger and resentment, how many more times was Gerard going to reject him?

“I told you, I want to make things better again. I can‘t stand seeing you like this…I just want my best friend back.” Gerard thinks back to the hundreds of times Frank stood by his side when he was battling with his own problems. He seems to be doing a lousy job of repaying the favour.

“You can‘t have everything Gee.” he sighs, the tag slipping from his lips accidentally.

“I know.” Gerard shifts uncomfortably for a second before turning to Frank. His face really is gaunt. The sight terrifies him. “I do love you Frank.” he admits, rubbing his brow.

“Then why? Why cause all this mess?”

“Because I love her too.”

“More?”

“No.”

A short silence ensues.

“Then why?”

“We‘re not meant to be Frank, we’re not right for each other, you’ll find someone better than
me someday, I promise.”

“But I don‘t want anyone else Gee,” Frank pleaded, trying not to cry again. “Not ever.”

He leans over quickly and brings his cold hand to Gerard’s cheek. He doesn’t flinch beneath Frank’s undead fingers, instead he relaxes in the cupped palm.

“Don‘t you remember Gee? Everything we had.”

“I remember everything we didn‘t have- everything I couldn‘t give you. Everything I still can‘t give you Frank.”

The guitarist pulls his hand back and flinches at the name. “Don‘t call me that, Gee,” he leans over and rests his head in Gerard’s lap. “I‘m Frankie, Gee, your Frankie- Let’s just be Frankie and Gee again.” he begs anxiously.

“I‘m sorry Frank. I‘m sorry,” Gerard chimes as he runs his hand through Frank’s short hair. A sudden dampness tingles his thighs and he can hear the sniffles coming from his lap. “I never meant for this to happen Frank, I swear.”

Frank continues to cry into Gerard’s lap wondering if his life will ever start to look up. He holds onto the cusp of the silky black waist jacket hanging effortlessly of his friends chest., trying to digest the fact that there will never be a relationship between them again. His throat aches to beg Gerard to make love to him one final time but he can’t find the nerve spit the words out between sobs. Meanwhile Gerard keeps claiming how sorry he is while running his hand through Frank’s hair holding onto the desire to what’s best - for both of them.