The record store was empty and almost alien in nature: Mikey never went there anymore and Frank almost felt like that he was trespassing by just standing at the entrance.
He didn't want to be here and he didn't deserve to be here - the place felt haunted and there was just no hope of closure, especially with the absolute abundance of knowledge as to how Ray did actually die. The only thing they had was Bert's prediction and the knowledge that despite how preposterous it seems and despite how much you'd hate it to be true, Bert McCracken is always right.
But perhaps Mikey's situation was worse, perhaps sitting alone with nothing but his guilt and entirely apathic brother was worse, but Frank didn't know and Frank could never know; the nineteen year old could only onlook the empty record store and try and piece his heart back together.
Ray had been the first person to be nice to him when he'd first arrived here, and the guy actually gave him hope that this wasn't a fucking cesspit of a town, and although it had indeed turned out to be, Ray was still his fucking best friend.
Frank wanted his old best friend back, he wanted fucking Alex back, and he wanted to go back to New York and pretend none of this ever existed but now with Ray's death he was fucking stuck here - he was tied down in guilt and remorse, and he was fucking stuck. Perhaps this was what the town had wanted after all - to trap everyone that entered inside - maybe Frank didn't entirely want to leave, even if just for Gerard's sake.
Even if his fucking asshole vampire boyfriend was the only hope he had right now, he was still going to hold onto that as tight as ever and not even dream of letting go of what he had; he'd lost too many people, and he was almost enroute to losing everyone, and he hadn't spoken to Alex in weeks now and he needed to call.
He wondered if even Alex had forgotten about him too by now; he wondered if anyone back in New York even cared about poor old, fucked up, Frank Iero anymore. He doubted it, and he tried his best not to care, but that only resulted in a swift exit of the record store - he couldn't face the place, nobody could.
Not even Bob.
And when Bob gave up, everyone was basically fucked: there was nothing quite as comforting as that fact, of course.
As Frank made his way out, he lit a cigarette, far past caring about his grandparents and people they knew and he wouldn't let them treat him like a fucking fifteen year old anymore, because he'd lost everything, let alone his fucking innocence - although, it was quite clear that cocksucking Frank Iero had lost that far too long ago.
He didn't want to have to call Alex and he made a list in his head of reasons why he should never ever speak to Alex again and he tried deleting the contact from his phone but he knew the number off by heart, and Frank couldn't lie to himself anymore - he needed to call Alex, and he didn't fuck care about the repercussions.
The dial tones ate away at him with every unanswered, empty second, and Frank found himself staring off into the shadows, almost too fixated upon a certain point of darkness: just a little bit darker than the rest of the shadows - unnerving, but not necessarily important, and Frank was so transfixed upon the darkness, he almost didn't noticed when Alex actually picked up, and maybe he wouldn't have if it wasn't for his voice: the voice that fucking changed everything and sent his mind into overdrive.
"Frank?" He was confused, almost as if he never even expected Frank to ever call again, and the nineteen year old didn't quite know what to think or how to feel about that. "Frank?" He repeated into the silence.
And at that, the nineteen year old seemed to jump back into life, almost like he'd been momentarily paused for some godforsaken reason. "Alex." Saying his fucking name was enough to fuck Frank over, because there was too much history between them and Alex was his best fucking friend and simultaneously his worst enemy, he was the best person he'd ever met and simultaneously the worst - he'd fucked Frank and he'd fucked him over completely.
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Antichrist (Frerard)
FanfictionThey were murdered, they were attacked and now they're dead. That's all Frank knows about his parents - gone before he'd even had chance to miss them, and it was fucking with his head. The police reckoned that moving away, to rural New Jersey with h...
