Latter Day Sinner

Chapter 7

The week of preparing, practicing and anticipation hadn't really been enough to keep Frank occupied from what he could only describe as the most confusing job dismissal ever. It felt, to him, vaguely like a heartbreak, but he didn't ever say that out loud, and tried to drown it out the way he would with any intrusive thought: he ignored it.
Supposedly, Frank thought, the best way to get over a burning rejection was to avoid talking or thinking about it at all costs, but it seemed, recently, that Father Way was all his friends could talk about. They spoke of how generous he was, how kind, how selfless, and all Frank could think of was the way his eyes seemed to project the galaxies onto the Church floor, or the psalms that Frank was sure were etched along every orifice in his mouth, so when he spoke, it was soft and true and infallibly pure.

It wasn't even enough that the band wouldn't shut up about him. Being in a small town as he was, Frank was familiar with the seismic tremors that spread through the community whenever something of interest occurred – and Father Way endorsing a punk concert in his Church was certainly something of interest.
Being the centre of that interest, Frank had to talk about Gerard a lot – which didn't help at all with the whole 'ignoring him' situation.

"So like, did you guys ask for the gig?"
Asked Tammy – a fairly well-meaning girl in Frank's English class. The group were sitting together at lunch, and she had actually walked across the cafeteria to ask them.
This town really was stupidly small.

"Nope, he called my Dad and offered it to us," Mia said proudly, for maybe the thousandth time. Tammy smiled – this clearly confirming the scandalous story she'd already heard.

"Wow. That's so generous. He seems so nice," she said almost dreamily. There was something in her tone that didn't sit right with Frank. Maybe it was the last straw, but he could almost feel himself snap.

"He's not nice, he's an asshole. He didn't give us the gig to be kind, he did it to fix his stupid window, because he's a selfish, lying, inconsiderate asshole," he hissed, fingers gripping the table.
Tammy, and all of Frank's friends, had expressions that varied between concern and pure horror.

"Dude. You can't talk about a Priest like that. That's not right," Damien mumbled, glancing up. Frank's cheeks flushed and, before anyone could say another word, he rose to his feet and rushed out of the cafeteria.
Luckily, he was collected enough to know where he was going, and found himself moments later pressed up against the brick wall of the school, looking out at the smoking area. Most of the students and staff were inside having lunch, so Frank was one of maybe six people in the area. He shakily reached into his jacket, fumbling with the pack in his pocket.

"Hey, I agree that you fucked up, but no need to gag on smoke, Iero,"
came Mia's familiar voice from beside him. He let his eyes slide shut as he slid a cigarette between his lips.

"How bad is it?"

"The rumours have already started. My favourite is that you caught him fucking your Mom," she said. The solemn way in which she said it only made it more amusing, and if Frank had been in any position to, he'd probably have laughed.

"Do I have to explain myself?" he asked softly, taking a deep pull, still not looking at her. Mia sighed gently.

"You know you don't ever have to, with me. But am I curious to know why my best friend hates the local Priest so much? You bet I am," she said gently. Frank knew she meant it, too. Mia had never been one to pressure him into anything – that was probably why he told her so much. He did it because he wanted to, not because he felt like he had to.

"Um. I love him," he said gently. He was surprised by the ease with which the words slid from his lips, considering he'd never said them before – not even to himself. Afterwards, he often thought that it was in that moment, smoking outside the school with his best friend, that he really realised it. Now that he didn't have the option of seeing the kind face, the warm eyes, he realised how much he needed to.
Mia, unsurprisingly, was only vaguely phased.