Screaming at the Sun | Frerard

Chapter Eight

im back in new jersey whoaoaaoa

"Frank, I think I'm going to puke." Gee said, hiding her face in her hands. Frank rubbed her back sympathetically, trying his best to ignore the fact that he could feel her bra strap through the T-shirt she was wearing. Gee had this thing for bulky clothes – Frank didn't think he could ever recall her wearing a tight outfit.

The group onstage was playing joyfully, and Frank smiled a little as he heard the singer began. Those kids were good. They were going on in three songs, and Gee thought it would be easier to get on stage if they were lingering in the back and not trapped in a crowd. Even though Frank agreed, part of him still wished he could be up there, watching the show.

"Ugh," Gee grabbed at Frank for support and he put her arm around his shoulders. "Why don't we sit down?" Frank asked gently, and Gee nodded. They made their way over to a corner in the back, finally collapsing on empty instrument cases.

"Fuck, is she that hammered?" Bob asked, materializing out of the shadows.

"Shit!" Frank jumped, cursing Bob out. "Don't fucking scare me like that!"

"I'm not high," Gee protested weakly, rubbing her temples. "I'll be fine in a few minutes, I swear."

"Acid? Gee, did you just do acid for the first time?" Bob pressed, and Gee threw her hands in the air. "No, Bob! No acid." She folded over, hugging her stomach. "Just kind of nervous."

"Hey, breathe," Frank said calmly. "Are you breathing?"

"No," Gee said sourly. "I photosynthesize."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure those two have no correlation." Bob said, but Frank shushed him.

"Gee, it's going to be fine, alright? You can't even see the crowd onstage." Frank reassured her, as Bob pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to the girl.

"Can I?" Gee asked, and Bob nodded.

"Drugs? Really?" Frank scoffed.

"She obviously needs it," Bob defended himself. "She compared photosynthesis to breathing."

"Stop bullying me," Gee said as she hit it, blowing the white smoke down at her feet before handing it back. "Thanks," She added quietly.

"Okay, how about we don't use chemicals to solve our problems?" Frank said, and Gee and Bob exchanged a glance before Bob broke into a smile.

"I'm Frank, and my mom told me that weed gives you AIDS!" Bob said, in a crude imitation of Frank that made him snort. "Shut the fuck up!" Frank whacked him. "That is not what I sound like!"

"I'm good, I'm good," Gee announced, getting to her feet. "Let's fucking crush this."

✰✰✰

So, they didn't exactly crush it.

First of all, Frank could hear exactly nothing. Unlike every other show he'd played in the past few years, he'd had no monitor speakers, and couldn't hear a single chord on his guitar after Bob's count in.

Secondly, Bob's hi-hat fucking fell over during the second chorus. They had been using the set the previous group had put together, and apparently one of those kids had shit for brains and didn't know how to put together a drum set.

Finally, Gee's voice had cracked at least ten times throughout the song. When they'd walked off the stage (well, Frank and Bob walked. Gee stumbled,) Frank had to hold her up by her waist to keep her from falling over.

The crowd had cheered for them, but Frank could tell the majority were confused by what they had just heard. Frank only had a moment to think about that though, as Gee tripped on her own feet and Frank had to lunge to keep her standing.