One Day

1

When he sees the two baskets filled to the brim with groceries he wants his legs to instantly snap so he can be given the rest of the day off. It's only 3 in the afternoon. He has to stay until 4 and he's been here since 8 in the fucking morning. His arms are sore from moving back and forth in the same motion with the occasional reaching up to punch in some odd things. He resists the want to bang his head on the scanner and forces a smile. "Hello!" The woman, looking to be in her late 40's?- smiles and begins unpacking. Big family then.

"How are you today?" She asks.

"Fantastic." Frank lies through his teeth. "And you?" Not only does he have to scan the fucking truckloads, he has to bag the fucking truckloads, and if that doesn't make you want to just drop a match on the ground and set the store aflame then he doesn't know what will.

The rest of his hours are full of happy paying customers and a slowly developing demonic Frank Way. He cannot wait to step foot in his shower and fucking relax. His day might end with a call from his husband- which will immediately eliminate every horrid thing Frank had been thinking since he arrived at work. He'd really like that, though he knows it probably won't happen. Gerard told him last week he'd be really busy this week - that he was actually going out at some time this week.

Don't get Frank wrong - after hearing those words he wanted to faint. No amount of times Gerard assures him he's fine over a 3 minute phone call can console Frank.

"Yes." Frank sighs when he locks his front door. He didn't bother parking his car in the garage tonight. He doesn't remember that he hadn't eaten a thing besides his bagel that morning. He wants a shower, a possible phone call with his husband, and then bed.

Just to repeat it all tomorrow and then be given a two day's rest.

Frank walks up the stairs quickly, eager to feel hot water against his skin as he scrubs himself clean. His gaze lingers on the framed photos and paintings that don the wall; paintings by his husband and photos by him. It hits him when he makes it to the top that Gerard's actual physical being has been absent for 4 fucking months.

130 days of nothing but his beautiful voice over a sucky phone. He worries all day everyday, except for the rare times like today where all he wants to do is get home. No one really knows what Frank's husband does.

"Hey, Frankie! We're having a sale on those cookies your man loves. Maybe you should buy some for him." One of his co workers would encourage. Frank would smile a little and say, "Nah." Only because Gerard wouldn't be home to enjoy them. He'd be in another country, fighting for America.

God, he misses him. He yearns to just touch his face. To see him instead of looking through a computer's camera. Everyday Frank is faced with the unnerving thought of Gerard getting hurt...or worse. It lessens up at work, but when he's home, remembering the last time he's seen him was the day after they celebrated his birthday, he wants to cry. April.

It's now August. August 18th. And Gerard is still gone.

He passes the two spare bedrooms that are always empty(except for when Mikey visits) and Gerard's 'Creative Lab' as Frank calls it. He also passes the bathroom and his own 'Creative Lab' room before entering their bedroom, leaving the door open. He's told Gerard countless times whenever he came back that the house was really unnecessary, that he was fine with a smaller one. More affordable. Less fancy looking and everything. He's fine with it - Gerard just ignores him now. He's used to the house, but when Gerard isn't there and he's alone and he feels the way he feels now, he reminds himself to talk his loving husband into a 2 bedroom. One for them, one for their talents.

Gerard always questions Frank on why he never took up a career in that direction instead of working at a grocery store. Frankie does it for fun. To pass time. It's a hobby that he finds enjoyable. He doesn't want to ruin it with deadlines and editing for someone else and meeting rude people who just want a picture to make themselves look good. People who will never appreciate the quality, the lighting that he twisted his body in weird angles to get, the perfect timing of catching something right before it was ruined. He'd rather do it just for himself and the few people who see them. Besides, if he did then he and Gerard would never be able to see each other.