Envision The Magic [Frerard] [By innocent_wolves on LJ]

Chapter Fourteen

"Hey, Gerard, I've decided that… Fuck, I can't say that, I haven't even decided anything."

Frank bit his lip and glanced helplessly at his reflection in the mirror, only to get caught in a staring competition with his own confusion. Earlier he'd spent several minutes debating and rehearsing with himself, something that only seemed to lead to more confusion and insecurity. In the end he came to the conclusion that he'd rather send a bullet through his own head than keep running around in circles. He had no idea what he was supposed to say but he decided to take Lisa's word seriously anyway; he would go down there and try to get a word with Gerard after his show. Now he had locked himself up in the staff restroom in an attempt to prepare himself for that moment, and so far he'd come up with a dozen possible ways to start the conversation, none of which seemed good enough.

"Damnit," he muttered irritably when he realized he was running out of alternatives. He absently reached up to straighten his vest and bow tie, sighing as he did so.

Frank didn't know if it was due to a real, deep-seated change or just a sudden wave of good moods, but Gerard seemed as though he'd changed, or at least that he was willing to try. Maybe this was the right time to talk to him; maybe all his other attempts had failed simply because of bad timing. And Gerard was right about one thing; Frank kept coming back. He would always keep coming back. At the end of the day he could slam his head against the wall as many times as he liked and deny everything, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that maybe there was something worth striving for after all. For once, he had to stop hesitating. Besides, it was obvious that he had competition. Gerard's relationships weren't all just a one-way deal for his enjoyment; the sudden appearance of this gorgeous Tara-woman was proof of that. It seemed like she wanted her piece and he could easily see her snatch Gerard away right in front of his nose while he wasted his time running around in his maze of pointless confusion.

He threw one more look at himself in the mirror, tugged at his bow tie once more, before he left to get started on his shift.

***

Everything was ready for Gerard's second attempt at a comeback, and it was supposed to be a real one this time. The moment he'd walked out of the restroom and his work night began, Frank felt like it passed in chunks. Most of those chunks were struggling by like snails and his watch hardly seemed to be moving. Whenever he glanced at the usual show poster he felt a strange jolt of excitement surge through his body, almost as if he was nervous on Gerard's behalf. When the guests started arriving he was beyond restless, hardly able to focus on his job at all. He trotted around aimlessly for nearly ten minutes after the show had started, his ears picking up the faint music that managed to make its way out in the lounge. In the end he couldn't help himself anymore and quickly snuck away from the bar, quietly vanishing into the show room.

Frank entered just in time to watch the dramatic explosion of a large wooden box that had been hoisted up in the air, and judging from the shocked collective gasp that emerged from the audience, Gerard had most likely been locked up inside it. The box collapsed like a frail house of cards and revealed that it was completely empty; its broken pieces were still chained to the roof, swinging limply from side to side, but there was no sign of the magician himself. Everyone started craning their necks and turning in their seats, excited to see where he had gone. Seconds later his crew unveiled another large crate, one that had been standing on stage all along. When this was cracked open it revealed a completely unharmed Gerard entwined by three female assistants. A surge of amazement and surprise raced through the crowd; they cheered enthusiastically as he gallantly stepped out to receive the praise. He looked out at his audience with a satisfied smile resting on his lips.

"I had to get some of the shipping formalities fixed, ladies and gentlemen," he began casually, once the crowd had settled down. "To abduct Santa's little helpers here would probably put me on his naughty list and I don't want that. I figured I'd think outside the box," he added, to everyone's appreciative laughter.

"I'm gonna be quite honest with you all," he continued. "I actually felt like I should have brought a couple of unchained, white tigers out here and make a big deal out of it, you know, just going totally extreme as a way of making up for cancelling yesterday's show. Because yesterday really sucked, didn't it? But then again, that would probably be the same as going from spectacular to batshit insane, seeing as I have no experience whatsoever with unchained, white tigers. You agree with me on that one, don't you, Sir?" he asked, his amplified voice cool and nonchalant as he randomly addressed someone sitting at one of the front row tables. "Yeah, I bet you'd be downing that whiskey of yours real fucking fast if a crazy ass tiger wanted to give you a lap dance."

The audience broke into unison laughter, scattered claps and whistling cheers filling the room. It instantly made Frank smile as well. Gerard seemed to be unstoppable tonight. He watched the magician's face on the screen as he stared satisfactory out at his admirers.

"Alright, so I know this isn't exactly Sigfried and Roy – I kinda like to work alone – and regrettably, I'm allergic to cats. But this was an alright kick-off, wasn't it? I bet you're all wondering how I got inside that box right now anyway. Just don't try this at home, guys, okay? Being in that box as it explodes really makes your ears ring. And I can't guarantee that you'll end up in a box full of pretty girls either, is all I'm saying."

People started cheering and clapping again. Gerard winked and grinned widely, running his hand through his hair to ruffle it up. His teeth were almost just as white as his complexion and he simply looked amazing up there. It almost seemed like he was possessing a certain kind of power, like the magic was real and not just illusions. This was a much different magician than the one they had witnessed yesterday. This was someone with a confidence that started to look very familiar. All of his past mistakes seemed to be admirably forgotten.

"So, anyway, like I said; I'm really sorry about yesterday. Definitely not my proudest moment, I'll admit that." He took a deck of cards out of his breast pocket and casually started shuffling them, his wireless microphone picking up their faint, rustling sounds and turning them into distant background noise. "I hope you all enjoyed your free drinks?" He paused and looked at his audience, who answered with a few confirming claps. "Okay, good. You all owe me one, by the way. Damn, that's gonna get me absolutely shitfaced." The people laughed again.

"So I'm not sure what yesterday was all about, really," he continued.

He stared thoughtfully at his cards. When he looked back up there was an unfamiliar expression upon his face, one that was hard to read. He seemed to waver uncertainly for a couple of seconds and as Frank followed his fixed gaze, he realized that Tara was seated among the audience. He could make out the silhouette of her perfect profile in the dark, the flicker from the candle lights dancing fleetingly across her features. She was resting her chin in her hands, looking back at Gerard with one eyebrow raised and a slight smile upon her lips.

"I guess... it was nothing," he shrugged. "Sometimes, what people do or say is just the same as a quickly passing headache or something. It was honestly nothing; it didn't mean anything. It happens; no big deal."

He stopped for another short pause. This time Frank suddenly felt like Gerard was talking directly to him, as if he'd managed to single him out – even though he couldn't possibly know that he was there. Then his eyes moved to another spot and he changed the topic, his voice returning to its normal level of confidence.

"Still, you know how the bosses would hate to see me get injured; after all I'm insured and if anything happened to me their asses would be on the line, so –"

In that moment the guests at one of the nearby tables made Frank turn around. Judging from their annoyed faces they were obviously eager to order drinks, having already made several attempts at catching his attention. He shook his head at himself and decided that he and Gerard hadn't made any eye contact at all; when someone on a stage fixed their eyes on a huge crowd like this one, it felt like they were looking straight at you, no matter what. He absently wrote down what the guests wanted, trying to divide his attention and jump into Gerard's monologue again, but he didn't seem to be able to keep up with the meaning of his words. In the end he was left with no other choice but to leave the show room.

On his way out, Frank still found himself frowning at what Gerard had said, despite his recent logic. He couldn't quite explain it but he felt a little strange, like he'd suddenly missed a step going downstairs; it made the bottom of his stomach drop. Then he caught himself wondering whether or not he'd been fooled again. What if Gerard hadn't been apologizing for yesterday's failure at all? What if he had spotted him in the audience and that the headache he'd been talking about was actually him; Frank? Maybe that's what he'd really meant when he said that yesterday had been insignificant to him. That couldn't be possible, could it? Frank threw a confused glance over his shoulder and almost tripped over his own feet. A trail of laughter followed his movements and it felt like the joke was yet again on him, even though it wasn't. He was nonexistent to them this time but still it felt like everyone was laughing at him; for being thoughtless and for falling for old tricks and empty words.

Whoa, okay, easy now, he thought, quietly passing his written order on to the first bartender he spotted. A million horses are going nuts right now and you need to rein them in, for fuck's sake.

He turned away, taking a moment to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against his eyeballs until tiny, blinking stars appeared. His thoughts were running way too fast for his own liking; there were too many What ifs in the picture. He took a couple of deep breaths in order to prevent his entire emotional state from going completely haywire over what was probably nothing.

"Frank? Are you alright?"

Jill's out-of-nowhere question startled him slightly and he removed his hands from his eyes, turning around to take in the blurry sight of her worried face. He blinked and nodded, trying his best to give her a reassuring smile.

"Yeah," he said, waving his hand and turning up the level of confidence in his voice. "Yeah, I'm alright, my eyes were just itching. I'm gonna go wash my face and I'll be fine."

Without another word he left for the staff restroom and locked the door. He found himself staring at his reflection like he'd done earlier that evening, but this time the face that stared back at him was clouded by a different kind of confusion. For a brief moment he feared that the honest and heartbroken part of Gerard was just yet another mischievous act, and that his child-friendly side was just another shell, another cape or costume he'd throw on whenever he felt like it. For a moment he was afraid that the person in question was a two-faced conman nobody knew who really was.

"Okay," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes and interrupting his own trail of thoughts. "Don't go completely crazy over this. You're just nervous because you're going to talk to him later and now you're just – just reading stuff into it. Everything he says isn't about you; the world doesn't revolve around anyone. There are no hidden messages or fucking anything like that."

This was ridiculous. If there was anything correct about the stereotyped image of hurt teenage girls locking themselves up in the bathroom when stuff like this happened, then what the hell was he doing there? What good would it do? He reached out to turn the tap on and splashed his face with water, repeating what he'd done earlier that day. Then he dried his face without giving his reflection another glance. To stay in hiding all night would be a stupid thing to do, not to mention hard to explain. If anything, he was still on the clock.

***

When he got back to the bar he realized that there were only five minutes left until the intermission. Jill, a little more stressed out than usual, immediately thrust a tray in his hands and ordered him back inside the show room, telling him to stand by so he could start tidying up as soon as the guests had left.

Frank slipped inside the room just as Gerard was about to finish a card trick. He was holding up the Ace of Spades for the audience to see. With his free hand he made an elegant gesture in front of it, like a model showing off an item for sale. Then he concealed it with his palm and briefly arched his eyebrow at the audience, his lip curling up in that ever familiar smile. In only a matter of seconds and without so much as touching the card, he slowly removed his hand. Gradually, the Ace of Spades somehow turned into the Jack of Hearts; it almost looked like the card was melting away, that Gerard's fingers were emitting some invisible force that just wiped the black spades clean off the surface. It made the Jack of Hearts look like it was shedding a second skin.

The audience gasped and broke out into enthusiastic applause. The close-up images on the screen were clean-cut and sharp and the whole act was stunning to watch, everything from how his hands gracefully moved from card to card, never hesitating and not once making mistakes, to how the cards just changed, as if they were magically submitted to his will.

That trick marked the end of the first part of the show. Gerard smiled and pressed his fingers against his lips, blowing double kisses out to his applauding audience, reaching his arms out and with that telling them that if he could, he would have embraced them all in one single hug. He backed out of the swirling spotlight, still waving and grinning, until he had disappeared into the dark shadows backstage. The curtains dropped and soon the room was filled with the usual noise and bustle as the guests started leaving their tables. Frank waited politely and watched them with his most distant smile as they all passed by, clutching their handbags and half empty whisky glasses while slowly proceeding towards the exit. Most of them were exchanging excited reviews of Gerard's second comeback attempt, talking about what an amazing magician he was. He had most definitely redeemed himself tonight.

Frank had worked his way down to the fifth or sixth row, moving at a quick rhythm and making himself invisible, just like a good waiter should, when his ears suddenly caught notice of Gerard's familiar chuckle. He looked up, for a split second thinking that he might as well rise up to the challenge and talk to him right away, but the moment he came into view he changed his mind. He wasn't alone; he was walking out of the backstage area together with a young man Frank had never seen before. Gerard was pulling him close, his hand resting on the base of his neck. Automatically, Frank retreated into the shadows, carefully sinking down on the nearest chair and trying not to move another inch.

The unknown man was slender and lean, and there was something slightly awkward and serious about him. At the same time this also seemed very natural, even charming, like it was just a natural part of his personality. From what Frank could see he was very good-looking; his nose was straight and his jawline distinct. His dark hair had been styled into a handsome faux hawk and from time to time he would reach up and run his fingers through it, absently making sure it still looked the way he wanted it to. The two of them appeared to be very comfortable in each other's company; Gerard had a look on his face that made him seem completely different and unfamiliar to Frank. It was obvious that he had missed this man tremendously.

Gerard's lips were moving but he was too far away to eavesdrop on. His voice was reduced to nothing but a distant mutter. He did a weird shrug, giving the other one a puzzled look. The young man responded by shaking his head, before he reached out, put a hand on his arm and gave it a light squeeze. Then he leaned in closer, muttering something in Gerard's ear that made him look down, almost in embarrassment. With a serious expression upon his face he nodded, and his lips seemed to shape the words "Yeah, you're right".

Frank's peripheral vision suddenly picked up on movement close by. He tore his eyes away from the couple by the stage and looked to his right, realizing that Tara was standing a few feet away from him. Judging from the look on her face it was obvious that she as well had been aiming for a conversation with Gerard, but she stopped once she noticed that he already had company. She lingered hesitantly for a while, a thoughtful frown settling between her eyes. In the end she only shook her head and turned to leave, her lips pursed indignantly.

Frank stared after her, numbly surprised. When he turned his attention back to the stage, it was just in time to see Gerard pull the stranger into a tight hug. The young man shrugged apologetically as they broke apart and jabbed his thumb in direction of the exit, indicating that he was leaving.

"I'll see you later," Frank could briefly hear him say, waves of his voice reaching him the moment he turned to walk away. "Good luck with the second half, Gerard."

Gerard nodded again, smiling gratefully. "Thanks," he called back at him.

As he drew nearer, Frank could feel his body go rigid. He sat perfectly still, hoping intently that the shadows would provide a good enough cover and that the candle light on the table didn't flicker enough to give him away. He didn't dare steal a closer look at the unknown man as he passed; he just remained seated, his heart beating wildly while he prayed that none of them would spot his silhouette out there in the semi-darkness. However, there didn't seem to be any reason to worry about that; Gerard appeared to be caught up in his own, comfortable little bubble. He was leaning against the stage with his arms folded across his chest, looking after the young man with a tiny smile. There was such a great amount of admiration in his eyes that Frank had to take a moment to pull himself together, unless he wanted to collapse entirely against his seat. After a few moments of mulling things over, Gerard finally snapped out of whatever thoughts he was lost in. He shook his head, chuckling quietly at how he'd allowed himself to lose track of time.

Frank watched him disappear backstage, a salty taste growing in his mouth. He got up so abruptly that the chair wobbled and threatened to topple over. He let glassware be glassware and left his tray, running up the stairs two steps at a time and almost tripping over when he got to the top. Once he was in the lounge he tried to zigzag his way past all the guests without drawing too much attention, suppressing the urge to just use his elbows on them. When he finally reached the bar he felt like he'd been running for miles.

"Frank?" An uncertain expression formed itself on Jill's face when she saw him. "Frank, what's wrong? You're dead pale!"

He grabbed the first and best explanation that came to mind. "I don't know, it must be something I ate," he muttered.

He was hardly able to concentrate on anything but his jumbled thoughts. He kept looking out at the crowd of chattering guests, checking to see if Gerard's new mystery man was out there mingling with them, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"I don't feel so great," he said randomly. "If it's okay I'd like to leave for the night – ? I'll be fine tomorrow, I promise, but right now I just…" His voice trailed off; there was a disappointed lump in his throat that made it very hard to talk.

"But of course!" Jill nodded worriedly, putting the back of her hand against his forehead. "I don't think you have a fever, but yeah, it could definitely be something you ate… Either way, you don't look very good. The worst rush is over now though, so if you wanna leave now then of course it's okay. You can't hang around the bar if you're sick anyway."

Frank managed to croak a vague "thanks", before he hurried away from the lounge, swallowing like mad to rid himself of the salty, metallic taste in his mouth. Minutes later he could finally close the door to his darkened cabin.

Damnit, Frank, he thought determinately, his jaws set, just pull yourself together.

He quietly locked himself up in the tiny bathroom and stood in front of the mirror for a long time, not really focusing on his reflection. He found himself wondering how it felt like to actually lower his shoulders. How long had it really been since he'd truly relaxed, since he'd strolled through a day without a single worry on his mind? Did he even remember how his life had been before Envision, before his son, and before Gerard? He knew it hadn't been much to brag about or aim for, maybe it hadn't been much to live for either, but sometimes he missed that time, his happy-go-lucky days. Was this what it felt like to suddenly grow up? Maybe this was just the naïve, over-analytic side of him taking control again, but did he really have to keep dealing with these things? Frank had used to think that being grown-up was the final state where you could eat whatever you liked for dinner and go to bed with whoever you pleased; being an adult meant doing whatever the fuck you wanted. He thought he'd been an adult for a while now but it seemed that his true, grown-up life had been brought to him by Envision. Everything had started happening after he got this job; now he had a kid to take care of and an ever failing love life to be depressed about.

He pinched the root of his nose and closed his eyes. He had never in a million years expected himself to react this strongly to anything or anyone, and he had never expected himself to deal with it for so long. He caught himself thinking about the look on Gerard's face when he stared after the unknown man, and he realized that anyone who could soften him up and make him appear as a completely different man – that person was someone Frank couldn't compete with. Even Tara had been reduced to a complete nobody in this context; if the sight of them had been enough to drive her away without any protests, then Frank didn't stand a chance.

That's what Gerard had been trying to say during his show; yesterday hadn't meant anything because they were all nothing but a bunch of passing headaches. The problem wasn't the fact that he was at it again with someone new; the problem was that he seemed to have finally made up his mind, and that just didn't seem to involve Frank.

He sighed heavily. It hit him that he'd finally had enough of all the drama and confusion invading his life; he could feel it to the very core of his bones. He was sick of this. This wasn't what he wanted to waste any more time on. Standing there in front of the mirror, Frank decided to give up on Gerard Way, once and for all, and just start living his own life.