The Chasing of Moons

I Don't Have A Creative Chapter Name, I'm So Disappointed In Myself

Frank would deny this to anybody who asked, he'd even deny it to himself in the mirror, but catching up to Gerard, he thinks, hey, this is a good vantage point to maybe look at his ass. So he does, and maybe Gerard's pants aren't doing him any favors, they're kind of baggy, probably only held on by his belt, but Frank doesn't have to use too much of his imagination to guess what his ass is like.

Frank hurries himself because there's less than five minutes before the bell rings again and he needs to at least say something of a redeeming quality so that Gerard doesn't think he's completely insane. Though to be fair, even Frank isn't ruling that out himself at this point.

He's a few steps behind Gerard when he suddenly realizes that he doesn't know what to start with. 'Hi' sounds too casual. 'Hello' is too formal. 'Hey' is too confrontational. 'Sup' is too idiotic. 'What's up' is too nineties. He doesn't know the right thing to say, so Frank just wings it.

"Gerard?" he settles on, making his way the final space between the two of them.

Gerard looks at him very briefly before making a huffing sound and turning his head away. That's not the ideal reaction Frank would've gotten out of him, but at least he didn't punch him in the face or anything.

Frank's at a loss though when Gerard doesn't respond. He doesn't say anything. Doesn't ask him what Frank wants, doesn't chew him out, doesn't say anything back at all. He just stays silent and continues walking.

"Okay, so about earlier-"

"You high?"

Frank's at a loss for words for a moment before he starts tripping over his words, "What? No! I swear, I'm not, I just, like you reminded me of someone, and I, you were just, and I'm sorry."

Gerard makes no attempt to reply, he just continues to walk down the hall, and Frank's never found himself more confused as to what to say next than he finds himself now. He can't think of a single word in the English language all of a sudden. The only word that's coming to him is crêpe, and for the life of him, he doesn't know why.

"You, uh, you don't like me very much, do you?" Frank asks him.

"What ever would make you think that?" Gerard says, still not glancing at him, "you ignore me for nearly eight years, didn't even bother to know my name, and now you're talking to me just because I look like someone you know?"

"I, well, I'm a very oblivious person, I wouldn't take it to heart if I were you," Frank says, thinking that he's achieved a minor success given that he got Gerard talking at all.

"Oh well that makes it all better then, doesn't it?" Gerard replies, oozing sarcasm.

"I, well, I'm sorry?" Frank asks.

"For what? The ignoring me part, the not knowing my name part, the embarrassing yourself in front of me part, or the fact that you're a complete idiot?"

"You don't even know me, like, how could you know that I'm an idiot? I'm not denying anything, but you can't know that," Frank asks, and then he realizes he just called himself an idiot, but he decides that if Gerard dislikes him, being self-deprecating is actually probably a good thing.

"Because I'm not as unaware as you are."

Gerard's taller than Frank, but that's not saying much. He's about as tall as Brendon, but Brendon's height is more in his legs, while Gerard seems to have shorter legs so it's not as hard to keep up with him. That doesn't mean that Gerard isn't walking as quickly as he can in an effort to shake Frank off.

"So you think you know me?" Frank asks him.

"That's not what I said," Gerard replies, and it's the first time when Frank thinks he might have caught Gerard off guard.