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

Chapter Seventeen

If he hadn't kept his grip on the banisters, Frank probably would have tumbled down the staircase from Lisa's apartment and broken his neck. The word "Go!" had worked as a trigger on him, and he was covering three and four steps at a time as he made his way downstairs. Seconds later he was whistling and waving at the first yellow car he spotted down the street. After being ignored by the first two taxis, a wave of relief washed over him when the third one finally blinked its lights and swung out of the steady traffic.

"You in big hurry, Sir?" the taxi driver asked merrily, his English broken and heavily accented. He glanced at him in the rear-view mirror as Frank tore the backdoor open and dove inside. "Where you want to go?"

"Uhm," he began frantically, trying to catch his breath. He was searching his mind for the best way to explain that he wanted to go to a place he didn't know where the hell was. "Do you – do you know who Gerard Way is?"

"Vey?" The taxi driver turned a little in his seat, mildly puzzled as he looked over his flannel-clad shoulder.

"Uh, yeah," Frank nodded, "Way – Gerard Way. Do you know who that is?"

"Gerrard?"

"Yes," he confirmed, a little annoyed. "Gerard Way. He's a magician; you've probably seen him on TV or something. You know who I mean?"

The driver still looked blank. Frank groaned impatiently, collapsing against the seat.

"He does magic tricks," he attempted, pronouncing the last two words very carefully. "With cards and fire and stuff. And explosions! Like, boom!" He waved dramatically and drew a wide, invisible circle with his hands. "He's done shows in Las Vegas and on cruise ships and – do you understand me at all here?"

Something finally seemed to dawn on the driver, his face opening up in a relieved moment of comprehension. He grinned and started to nod enthusiastically.

"Aaah, Las Vegas, yes!" he exclaimed, emphasizing the words as though he was correcting Frank. "Yes, yes, magic tricks! I know the Las Vegas magic, I know!" He gestured wildly, nodding even more. "I see him on the TV, many times."

"You know?" Frank repeated excitedly. "Seriously? Do you know where he lives? His house?"

The smile on the driver's face vanished and he shook his head, looking disappointed. Frank sank back against the seat once again and dragged his hands across his face. He then threw a hopeful glance outside the window, trying to spot another cab with possibly a more knowledgeable driver, but when he needed one there was no one in sight. That was typical.

"But Bogdan, he know, he know where the Mister Vey live," the driver said helpfully, after having thought about it for a while. "He drive him one time, I remember. I call Bogdan on cell phone – it's okay?"

Frank's face lit up, his heart performing a triple somersault in his chest.

"Yes! Of course it's okay!" He leaned forward again, nodding eagerly. "Please call your friend!"

While listening to the driver rambling on in his native language, Frank sat there biting his nails in anticipation. The only words he could make out of the conversation were "Las Vegas", "magic" and "television". Apparently, Gerard's fans included all sorts of people; he was much more famous than Frank had first thought. After what seemed like a loud, enthusiastic argument that lasted a lifetime, the driver finally hung up, beaming as he put the car into drive.

"Eurona apartments, Sir!" he proclaimed happily, throwing a glance at Frank's confused reflection in the rear-view mirror. "Mister Vey live in the Eurona apartments."

"And… And you know where that is?" Frank asked nervously.

"I know, I know," he nodded reassuringly. "I bring you there, no worry."

***

After twenty-five excruciatingly long minutes, minutes which suffered badly from the heavy traffic, the driver finally maneuvered the taxi to a halt next to an upscale apartment building. It was a pretty tall construction, facing the city with an exterior that was a mixture of pale brown and dusty red. Frank remained seated and glanced uncertainly around; he spotted an expensive looking hotel right across the street and a shiny office building next to it. Maybe he'd passed through here by bus or taxi, but he hadn't really been to this part of the city before. It struck him that his parents lived in a district that resembled this one; it was safe to say that it wasn't a place he would most likely hang out in – at least not by free will.

"Eurona right here," the driver said, looking over his shoulder when he realized he was hesitating.

"Yeah, I see it," Frank muttered. He glanced out of the window once more before he opened the door. "Thank you. Could you… Uhm, could you wait for me? Just let the meter run, I don't care."

As he stepped outside, the driver shrugged him an "okay", reaching into his glove compartment for a copy of a worn and well-read paperback novel.

Frank's steps against the pavement felt heavy, his Converses dragging along the concrete at an unsure, slow pace. His hands balled themselves into fists, growing sweatier the closer he got to the entrance. By the time he'd reached the door and the nearest potted Christmas tree, his heart was racing, something which formed an uncomfortable lump in his throat that wouldn't go away no matter how much he swallowed. Frank closed his eyes for a moment, trying to breathe steadily and ignoring the butterfly mosh pit in his stomach.

"Merry Christmas, Sir! May I help you?"

The voice came out of nowhere, thrown at him so unexpectedly that it startled him. His eyes flew open in an instant and revealed that a total stranger was standing there, looking at him. He was dressed in a dark red uniform; his military style greatcoat reached all the way down to his knees, his trousers were perfectly creased and his black shoes were shiny and spotless. The edge of his coat lapels and his double cuffs were decorated with silver bands, something which was mirrored in the hat he wore. The doorman; of course a place like this would have a doorman. That was something he hadn't thought about.

"Uh… Yeah," Frank began slowly, his nervousness gradually turning into irritation when he noticed that the man's eyes had moved, inevitably, towards the tattoos on his arms. Then he quickly looked back up, still with that stupidly polite smile plastered upon his face. "I'm here to see Gerard Way," he continued, straightening up. "If you could let him know that Frank Iero is here, I'd appreciate it."

"I'm sorry, Sir," the doorman replied, shrugging apologetically, "I'm afraid I can't do that; Mr. Way left about half an hour ago."

"He left…?" Frank's heart immediately sank. "Where to? Did he say?"

For a few seconds, the doorman just looked at him. Then he chuckled shortly, as if he was politely laughing at a joke he hadn't found funny at all.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. For obvious reasons."

Impatience came seeping back into Frank's veins and he threw his arms up, annoyed.

"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed. "Obvious reasons? Gerard knows who I am, I'm not gonna murder him or anything. Do I seriously look like a criminal to you? I'm fucking 5'4''!"

"Sir – this would have been very easy if Mr. Way had actually been at home. But since he isn't, and since you want to go after him, you'll have to prove that you and Mr. Way are acquainted before I can tell you anything, regardless of your height." The man rested his arms behind his back and tilted his head slightly, as though waiting for him to do just that. "It's my job to be sure about these things. That's why people choose to live here. It's our policy."

"Then fuck your policy," Frank snapped. "If you –"

"Hey – is there a problem here?"

Another unknown voice appeared out of nowhere, interrupting the argument. Frank turned his head sharply, searching for the source. A split second later his heart made a giant leap for his throat when he realized that the voice belonged to him, the lean, young man with the fauxhawk; the fucking Mikey-guy. He had just stepped out of the building and was now looking at them with a mix of mild confusion and amusement.

Oh, so he's spending Christmas with Gerard now? he thought acidly, narrowing his eyes. Wow, how fucking cozy.

He scowled as Mikey took his sunglasses off and hooked them into the neck of his t-shirt.

"Not at all, Sir, it's nothing to worry about," the doorman beamed. "This gentleman was just about to leave."

Frank felt his jaws clench, a whirling wave of anger and jealousy surging through him. For a moment he wished he could transform those feelings into something physical; in his mind, the anger was a punch in the doorman's face, while the jealousy was a kick aimed at Mikey's balls.

"No, this fucking gentleman is not about to leave," he said, gritting his teeth; he was determined not to let the sight of Mikey bring him down. "But hey, I know what you can do," he added, gesticulating at the doorman in a moment’s inspiration. "You can call him! He'll confirm everything I've said, he'll tell you that he knows me!"

"In that case, wouldn't it be easier if you called him?" He regarded him calmly and arched his eyebrows beneath the shiny brim of his hat. "Since you already know him? I'm just the doorman; I don't keep the residents' phone numbers."

Frank stared at him. Then he sighed loudly, realizing that he was more or less defeated. Of course he didn't have a way of contacting Gerard. Right now he would have gladly taken one of his custom made douchebag coins.

"I… I can't," he eventually admitted miserably. "I can't call him. But I'm pretty sure you can, there's gotta be someone you can ask. Just tell him that Frank wants to see him and that it's urgent. I really need him to stop whatever he's doing right now and listen to me. Please," he added, knowing that his last hope was to make the guy feel sorry for him, "I'm seriously begging you."

The doorman opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Mikey.

"Wait – Frank?" He blinked at him, acting as if he was seeing him for the first time. "As in Frank Iero? You work aboard the Destiny, right?"

How the hell does he know that? Frank thought, his heart struggling through another worried jump. The butterflies in his stomach began hurling themselves at each other again, before another thought suddenly occurred to him: They've been talking about me. Gerard's been talking about me, to him. Why the fuck would he do that?

"I'm Frank Iero, yeah," he confirmed warily, frowning at him. "Why?"

"I didn't even realize you guys were talking about Gerard!" The young man beamed as he hurried forward and extended his arm towards him. "So you're Frank? Wow, it's great to finally meet you in person!"

Frank's lips parted in sheer confusion. He stared blankly back at Mikey, absently allowing him to shake his hand vigorously.

"It – it is?"

"Of course it is," Mikey chuckled, looking at him with slight frown. "Why wouldn't it be? Gerard's been telling me a whole lot about you. So the two of you finally worked things out now, huh? I mean, since you're so desperate about seeing him. I honestly thought you guys were never gonna get around to fixing things," he added. "I was getting a little impatient."

Another fist of irritation punched Frank in the stomach; this guy sure had some fucking nerve. He abruptly pulled his hand out of his grip.

"What the fuck is this?" he snapped, his face immediately flaring up in an angry blush. "First of all, it's not your goddamn business, and secondly – well, I don't even know what I'm supposed to say. Gerard's just assuming he can have us both now or something? And you're okay with that? God, the two of you are seriously so fucked up! I'm obviously wasting my time here because I'm not into this shit –"

"Okay, what the hell are you talking about?" Mikey raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking slightly offended. "Maybe it's not my business, fair enough, but Gerard really needed my advice on this. He did ask me. And being his brother and all I kinda felt like I had to be there for him."

Frank's voice was way ahead of his thinking, not allowing his mind to become aware of what he'd just been told. When that finally happened he was already mid-sentence.

"You know what, that's just so – so –" He stuttered, then cut himself off, frowning. "...what? Brother?"

"Yeah." Mikey folded his arms across his chest. "I don't know about you, maybe you're an only child or whatever, but brothers stick up for each other – at least that's what they should do. And my brother was desperate to get a second opinion on what he was supposed to do about you, actually. I don't see what's so fucked up about that."

"You're – you're Gerard's brother...?" Frank could hardly get the words past his lips, his entire mouth suddenly gone numb. "Like, flesh and blood...?"

"Same parents and no adoption papers, as far as I know," he remarked coolly, the offended expression on his face not changing. "He's my big brother. If you have to know, my wife and I boarded the Destiny in Phillipsburg," he went on, explaining. "We've spent our honeymoon there and meant to catch a plane back home when Gerard called. He was freaking out and said he needed to talk to me right away, so he arranged for us to come aboard the ship instead. We're staying with him until tomorrow. Who did you think I was?"

"But, I –" Frank stuttered, although he had no idea what to say; all the blood in his body was rushing to his head, making him feel slightly dizzy. "I thought –" Then he abruptly interrupted himself, staring at him suspiciously. "Hold on – it's not like you can just hop on from any port you want. You have to be registered several weeks ahead to even get a cabin."

"Well, obviously." Mikey rolled his eyes. "But we're talking about Gerard here; if my brother dislikes a rule then he's gonna bend it. Or make up his own, more likely. So yeah, he just had to pull some strings and my wife and I got a cabin in no time. He really didn't tell you I was aboard?" he added, looking puzzled. "That's so weird; he said he'd get a hold of you so he could introduce us. When that didn't happen I just assumed you were too busy."

Frank pulled his hand across his face, leaving it clasped over his mouth. Oh God, he thought, pressing his clammy palm against his lips.

"N-no," he said eventually, letting his arm drop. "He didn't – he didn't tell me that. Or – well, I guess he was about to. I just… I wouldn't let him."

"What do you mean you wouldn't let him?" Mikey repeated, his offended face gradually taking on a suspicious shade.

"I've done…" Frank's voice was trembling slightly as he searched for words. He gesticulated aimlessly, like that was going to help him. "I've done something real stupid, okay – it's all a huge misunderstanding; a fucking… ginormous misunderstanding. But seriously," he added, his eyes desperate, "do you have any idea where he was going? Because now I really have to talk to him, like – right now."

"He didn't say, specifically," Mikey began doubtfully, eyening him. "He just said he was going to run some errands. And that he was probably going to be a little late but that he'd take us out for dinner when he got back... Oh, wait," he added, "I think he was gonna drop by the Envision HQ and fix something. Something about his contract, but he was a little vague on that. I don't know where he was going first though... He might have been there already." Mikey's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "So I guess this is why Gerard's been sulking all day. You guys haven't figured out shit, have you?"

Frank shook his head, the butterflies in his stomach tearing at each other as though their life depended on it. Up until now, it hadn't dawned on him for real that Gerard was actually being serious, that he was going to leave Envision for good. Somewhere deep inside he'd always had a tiny hope that it had all been nothing but words.

"Okay… I have to go to Envision HQ, obviously," he muttered, a chill racing down his spine when he realized the severity of all the misunderstandings. Mikey signaled for him to wait, his hand reaching for the cell phone in his pocket.

"You know, this is worrying," he said, frowning as he thumbed through his contacts. "I'm not sure if I even wanna know what's actually going on between you two. But you're obviously in pain right now so I'll call him for you, just – hang on."

Frank could only nod in response and immediately resumed his nail biting, his body bent slightly forward in an impatient, urgent fashion. Everything seemed to go quiet while they waited for Gerard to answer his brother's call; not even the sounds from the passing traffic managed to fully reach his ears. The entire world appeared to hold its breath together with him. In the end Mikey glanced up, shaking his head.

"I'll give it another try," he began, but Frank was already backing away.

"No, it's fine – really. Thanks for trying and everything but I think I should just head over there. I don't have time to explain, I'm sorry, but it was, uh… It was nice meeting you. Finally," he added, giving him an awkward and apologetic smile, almost tripping over his own feet as he fumbled for the taxi door.

A moment later the taxi was speeding away from the apartment building, leaving Mikey standing by the curb with his mouth hanging slightly open and a confused expression upon his face.