Frank stepped into the dark, empty space scattered with those who choose to drown their sorrows alone in a bar with no questions asked. The décor is cheap and so is the drink, designed to get you drunk and forget, not really focusing on taste. Frank’s heart fluttered a little as he spotted the youngest of the men slouched at the bar, his dark hair covering part of his beautiful face and he cursed himself for fitting the cliché, in just another way. He stepped cautiously towards the young man and took a closer look at the person he had intentionally found.

Gerard sat there, headphones in, lyrics dark and music heavy. Drink in his hand and he screws up his face as he realises his glass is empty. He closes his eyes and attempts to relax his shoulder muscles, sighing. There is a tap on his shoulder and his eyes open reluctantly, turning his head.

Frank sits down next to him, fidgeting on the stool and hands shaking with nerves. His eyes met Gerard’s just like he imagined they would and instead of pity he felt overwhelmed with a sudden sense to care for this stranger. But he was pretty sure it would not come across this way, especially when he asked –

"What are you actually doing here?" Curiousity, with a sense of resentment, filled his voice and Frank made little attempt to hide what he felt.

"Uh, what does it look like?" Gerard briefly shook his head, partly in disbelief and also to give this stranger a not-so-subtle hint that he didn’t need a lecture right now. Gerard did what came so easily to him; he turned the question back on the other person. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." Gerard had not expected that. His sarcastic, almost rhetorical question was intended to make the person leave him alone without further questioning.

"Me?"

"Yes. You." Frank looked Gerard straight in the eye, and then it came to him. Gerard thought he recognised this underage, good-looking boy. He smiled and decided to play along for a while, it’s not like he had anything else to do.

"Why did you think I’d be here then?" Gerard felt a dark smirk spread across his face and mentally prepared himself for the judgement, questions and unforgiving looks. This kid didn’t know him, so why should he care?

"Because you didn’t come in and buy alcohol. So I figured you would…be somewhere that sells it." Frank answered promptly and confidently, not really sure where this self-assurance had come from.

"Oh. Okay. So where didn’t I go…?" Gerard tried to hide the smile, surprised he felt a little not-so-depressed, he knew the kid but hey what’s the harm in giving this kid an incite into what life was like for someone with such low self-worth and no respect for anyone, including – especially – himself.

"To the store. Around the corner." His tone obvious and slow. "You didn’t come in. I didn’t sell you drink. And I figured you would get some…somewhere, like here." Frank looked around once again and swallowed as he saw what kind of state most of the punters were in.

Gerard couldn’t quite comprehend why this person was sat here talking to him but he could understand the look of sheer horror on the young man’s face. Gerard had worn the same expression once. He had sat and stared looked at the men in here and sworn he would not end up like them. He told himself that he was just here to escape to get away from that world outside, but of course he had become one of them. Gerard was like them, only younger. He drank too much, smoked too much and sat here alone with no-one else to talk to. His skin didn’t have the tired lines like the others had, nor did his hair have a grey amongst the greasy, unwashed strands that hung over his face. But it was the same principle. He still came here. He still got drunk. He still belongs here – and that was the worst part.

"So what’s a nice young man doing in a place like this?" This words that escaped from between Gerard’s thin lips could mean either; "I know you’re underage" or "Yes, I’m aware this question is ironic, but don’t become like me. I’m your warning."

"Right back at you." Frank smiled at the man sat beside him and looked into his kind-looking eyes, which Gerard rolled towards the dirty ceiling.

"Okay, fair enough. But at least I’m legally allowed here…" Frank giggled, not really helping his case, he shook his head.

"I’m twenty-one." His tone unconvincing, his eyes flickered to the floor. "I’m just…uh…short."

"Short?" Gerard allowed his eyes to drift over the younger man’s body, trying to work out his height. Frank noticed and rose from the stool, holding out his arms as if to say "see?" and then shrugged. The older man chuckled softly and shook his head. This kid was weird, but Gerard had never been considered normal anyway, there was something…good about this boy though. He wasn’t so naïve but still had some innocence in his eyes, it was beautiful – he was beautiful.

Frank slumped back into the chair again and licked his lips. His gaze wondered towards the bar, then back towards Gerard’s empty glass – he scowled and Gerard presumed it was due to the disapproval of his alcohol habit.

"I want a drink." Frank’s eyes met Gerard’s. "What are you drinking?"

"JD."

"Straight?"

"Yes. Straight." Gerard sighed. He hated being reminded of this. Just hated talking about it. "Though you’d know – seeing as you know everything else."

"No. I don’t know anything about you. Not really."

There was an awkward silence before Frank nodded his response, picked up Gerard?s glass and walked towards the bar. There was confidence oozing from him as he strode across the room, he placed the glass on the bar with enough force to make a noise. No reaction. A forced cough. Nothing still.

"Hello?" His eyes not daring to move back towards his new friend. "Can I have some service here?"

The barman with a balding head and greasy skin, stepped in the direction towards Frank and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked tired. It may not be loud or energetic in here but this bar never slept.

"A JD." He paused. "And, uh, a Bacardi, please."

The barman stared in disbelief.

"Yeah sure, kid." He shook his head and started to walk away. He turned his neck back and added "You shouldn't even be in a place like this."

Underage and so very very brave

Frank shrugged, turned around and watched Gerard laugh at him. Laugh. He cursed himself for being so stupid. He didn't look twenty-one and he barely looked the eighteen years that he'd lived. Frank slowly shuffled back towards where Gerard sat attempting to stifle his giggles.

"Aw, too young?"

Frank didn't miss a beat.

"No, I just don't look my age."

"Sure, so how old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"Really. How old are you?"

"Uhm." Frank leant closer and Gerard noticed how good he smelt. "Eighteen." He whispered.
Gerard was even more surprised when he felt himself smiling again. Gerard didn't do smiling. Frank looked at him with eyes so full of wonder and curiousity, and Gerard was constantly expecting the boy to ask questions.

"Why do you drink so much?"

The question was so full of pure freaking honesty, good intentions and no presumptions.

"Why?" He didn't quite yet know what the kid wanted or needed to hear.

"Yes. Why? Why do you drink everyday?"

"Because." Gerard took a deep breath. "It's easier this way. I need it. I need this." He gestured to another empty glass and released a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"But for what?"

"To live." He stated simply.

"Why do you need to drink so much?"

"I guess - I guess I just need it. My mind needs it. And my body needs it." Gerard held out his hands, showing his self-defence. "I have no other way of explaining it."

Frank nodded his expression, clearly sincere.

"Oh. Okay. So you wanna get out of here?" Frank quickly realised how the question must have sounded and immediately tried to backtrack. "No - uh- I mean you know-since?" Gerard's expression had gone from one of exasperation to one of amusement.

"- I know what you mean. It's okay." Gerard decided to wind the kid up a little, Frank's look of nervousness was funny and adorable. "Unless you want to..?" He managed to keep a straight face. They made eye contact and Gerard dared to wink at the obviously uncomfortable boy sat next to him. His attempt to leer at Frank had collapsed along with his laughter.

"Joking." Gerard stood up for the first time in hours and looked down and Frank. "Let's go."

They ended up walking along the cold streets of New Jersey with Gerard slightly shuffling along, his unsure steps just a little ahead of Frank's.

"So you didn't tell me your name, and you don't know mine."

"You're Frank and I'm Gerard."

"Uh, Gerard, how do you know my name?" 


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