Among the Stars [Frerard]

Chapter 26: Murals of Self Deprecation

Frank groaned for the hundredth time that morning. His back fucking hurt and he hated his out of mind self for that one bloody thing. Because no, high Frank didn't care about anything or anyone. But normal him did. He cared a hell of a lot about everything. And right now he cared about his fucking back and the fact that it was aching because high him had to be a punk little arsehole.

He went into Bobs room and went to search for his phone. He found it stuck to the back of Bobs chair and he seriously wondered what had possessed either of them to use, what looked like, a whole role of duct tape to tape his phone to the back of a chair.

Honestly he couldn't even remember anything they had gotten up to. It was a bit of a daze of food and laughing. But Frank wasn't complaining, quite on the contrary. It happened to turn out that Bob Bryar was not always an arse and that he could, in fact, be a pretty decent person and Frank found himself to be enjoying his company quite a lot.

Bob was still asleep on the couch when Frank got back into the living room now having retrieved his phone. He sat on the free arm chair and turned his phone on. 

The silence of the early morning was comforting, yet so uncomfortable. Frank liked that he was hidden in it. Hidden in cold mornings and birds awaking and eerie silence. It was almost deafening in a way. Frank was afraid to break the silence, as if one loud sound would knock everything out of proportion and break this small moment in time for good. 

In a way it was as if time stood still. Frank sat on an armchair in a house he barely knew with a guy he wasn't sure was someone he could actually call a friend. Barely anyone was awake at this moment and Frank found immense comfort in that. 

The light in the living room was cold, blue, calming. The windows had small amounts of frost in the corners and everything looked blissful.

However the calm atmosphere was broken when he saw that Gerard had texted and then called him, several times. Frank had noticed that Gerard worried whenever Frank didn't reply for a while. Which in his defence, was because his boyfriend happened to be a suicidal mess with a tendency to do stupid things. Which to be fair, he kind of was. But he was getting better, both of them knew that. And Gerard didn't have to react like an overprotective mother all the time. 

Frank turned off his phone, not sparing a second glance at any of the messages. If Gee really got worried, Frank knew that he'd just go over his place. And his parents knew he was with Bob. They had insisted on knowing. They were also more protective nowadays, which was understandable. Frank didn't really mind. 

He turned his phone off and chose to ignore the existence of anything else but the rooms in this house, Bobs evened out breathing and the blue tinge to the room. 

Frank wondered where Bobs parents were. He knew they were business people, Bob had told him that once. Maybe they didn't show him enough love or maybe he was just neglected. Who knew, if Bob wanted to tell him, he would. So that was that.

-

Bob woke up only half an hour later. Frank and him decided to just get drunk. Well it was less of a decision and more of a mutual understanding. Bert looked like he needed to loosen up a bit and so did Frank.

So now they found themselves sat on a park swing. How, neither could really remember. Only a few moments ago they were sat on Bobs kitchen floor taking large swigs of the vodka. And now they were sat here. A couple kids and their parents were suspiciously eyeing the two boys but neither cared all too much about it.

They were just messed up teens with too much on their mind and a lot of ways to escape said things plaguing their minds. Well, those things may have been illegal but hey, if it helps, it helps.

Frank wondered if getting high and drunk was something his therapist would condone. He doubted it. 

He even wondered if behaving like this again was taking a step back in recovery and as much as he tried to convince himself that was not the case, he was just letting loose, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing this to be self destructive.

He supposed it didn't really matter. He was doing it now and he felt better. Unaware and devoid of emotions was always better than being aware. When he was intoxicated he would always loose himself in the feeling. He never asked himself how he was feeling and therefore managed to stay out of his pit of unhappiness. 

Alcohol made him numb. But so did his thoughts.

His thoughts could even do worse than that.

So he figured that this was acceptable. He wasn't hiding away from others and messing with his recovery. No, he was spending quality time with a friend and having a bit of fun as well.

And that was definitely okay. Frank was sure to convince himself of that as he and Bob laughed and staggered around the park until the sun started to go down. The sky was painted a billion colours and Frank was in love with it even when he was drunk.

"Come on Bob! I wanna see the stars!"

"They'll be there every night," he grumbled, "anyway I'm fucking freezing my balls off so get you're head out the stars.. or clouds or whatever it is."

And in his state, Bob probably didn't notice how that badly worded sentence affected Frank. He probably hadn't noticed how much meaning they held. Because it was true, Frank was drifting again. And maybe Bobs shitty words made him realise that. 

Frank needed to pay attention to the world around him and not black it out. He had to live and not just simply exist. He was aware of that. He probably always had been. But now it was up to him to make his words reality or to continue to wallow in his bubble, only letting the outside world in when he needed to breathe. He wasn't sure if he could do it. 

But he needed to get his life in check sooner or later if he intended on living one.

Oh, and he should probably reply to Gerards texts and calls as well.