Chapter 6

Frank's life didn't revolve around tagging. Well, it was a huge part of his life and who he was as a person, but as much as he'd love to be spraying his art all over the buildings twenty-four seven, he had to do other shit as well.

One of these was school, obviously, for he wanted to actually graduate with a passing grade, and he was even putting more effort than normal into this last year -his Senior year- than he had the rest of high school. Frank did want to get into college, and had already applied to a whole bunch of universities near Belleville, and a few in New York, just to have a goal to keep him motivated. He would still tag when he was in college, that wasn't ever going to change, he was sure of that. It'd be like school, except more grown-up and studying something he actually wanted to study.

Finding a career choice was not really easy for Frank. He was okay at art, but that was it, he was just okay, decent, mediocre, enough to make a drawing and make it understandable; he was no Van Gogh, no Frida Kahlo, and he knew that. He couldn't pull an Octavia and become a tattoo artist, he was certain. He didn't have a family tradition where all the males studied medicine, like Pencil's family did.

Frank pitied the guy, not only did he have to study to become a doctor, but he still had two more years of school. Pencil didn't completely dislike the idea of becoming a doctor though: he had always been a kind person, always looking out for his friends and picking Frank up at odd hours of the morning just because his ass was lost in town. Hey, that happened only once, okay? Maybe twice.

Anyways, Frank didn't find his career choice quickly, no. And his parents weren't much help either: they were your typical 'oh, you should be a lawyer', totally not Frank's thing.

But God bless counselors at school, because Ms Summers was actually how Frank found his dream job. After many questions and sessions and brochures and that type of shit, Frank concluded there was only one thing he loved -that wasn't illegal-, which was music.

He had grown up surrounded by music, had acquired a wide variety of taste in it, and his room was filled with vinyls and CD's, band posters and picks he'd collected from various gigs. His first idea was being a musician, he could play guitar and scream until his throat was raw, that had to count for something, but he quickly decided against it: being famous really wasn't Frank's cup of tea. Yet he knew his heart belonged to music, he knew he had to do something related to music, because the notes and vocals and drums blasting through his headphones had helped him through so much, and he wanted to give back, to use it to help other people.

Help other people. That was another phrase that kept echoing through Frank's mind.

He wanted to use music to help other people as it had helped him.

With much help from Ms Summers, the counselor, Frank came to a conclusion: he wanted to study musical therapy.

It kept him connected to music and he was helping other people move on with their lives through the music. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect, and it just sounded so perfect and right to Frank, he knew it in an instant. He had never heard of the career before, but -once again- with help from Ms Summers, he found out all about it, and even which universities near him provided the program.

It included the word 'music', so it pleased Frank; it included the word 'therapy', so it pleased his parents.

But before he could become one, or have a real job doing what he loved, he had to make money in other ways. Being a teenager, there wasn't really many ways he could make money, but he had had to find something, and do it quickly. Because Octavia might be his best friend and might give Frank half the price for his tattoos, but there was only so many lunches he could skip at school to save up money for them.

Babysitting was immediately out of the question. Hell fucking no. Kids were like little Satans running around, breaking shit and crying everywhere. No thank you. Next option.

Next option wasn't suitable for Frank either. Second option was Mc Donald's; working in between bacon and meat hamburgers wasn't really Frank's forte. Not only because he was a vegetarian due to stomach problems, but because come on, flipping burgers and smelling like burnt oil wasn't Frank's thing either.

The third option was actually what did sound nice. As many say: the third time's the charm, or whatever bullshit.

His prayers were answered (not really, since Frank liked dick way too much to pray) when he saw the 'NOW HIRING' sign at the local cinema. It was perfect. Discount on movie tickets and all he had to do was stand behind a counter, be pretty and give people popcorn. Wearing the ugly red cap was worth it though, along with the red shirt and the name tag they were forced to permanently have stuck to their shirt's pocket. He was allowed to wear skinny jeans and Vans though, so he didn't mind much.

Staying behind the counter and handing out tickets and popcorn in exchange for money (which went to the cashier machine, not directly to his pocket, as Frank soon learned) wasn't half bad.

Quite often -more than he'd like to- Frank ran into people he knew, which was expected, since it was one of the only cinemas around his school and relatively close to his house. He did the polite thing and said hi, handed them their ticket or whatever the fuck and then they went off and into the movie theatre. The only people who stayed and attempted small talk with Frank where Nathan and Delilah, and of course Pencil and Octavia.

Nathan and Delilah frequented the movies, since it was one of the only places where couples could hang out, aside from each other's houses or some local restaurants or parks, if they didn't feel like driving out, that is.

Octavia and Pencil mostly just came around to hang out with Frank, for they weren't really into movies.

Currently, they were right on the other side of the counter Frank was behind. The theatre was completely empty, since all the movies had already started playing and were almost in the middle. Talk about a strategic schedule. The occasional person came inside to use the cinema's restrooms or running late to a movie.

Frank was the only one on shift then, since the other dude who worked with Frank had decided to go home early because of the lack of people, so he left Frank to deal on his own. Not that he minded, since Octavia and Pencil were right there in front of him, trying to get Frank to give them free popcorn.

"Come on man, you can say I felt ill and almost fainted and needed some sugar on my system or some shit. It's no biggie, I bet you can talk yourself out of it, it's just a small little bag, I didn't even eat today," Pencil moaned, leaning over the counter. Frank simply rolled his eyes and placed his hand on his friend's forehead, pushing forward so he stumbled backwards and off the plastic table. He knew Pencil meant no harm, he wasn't angry at him or anything, but he sure could be annoying when he wanted.

Octavia sighed, ignoring Pencil completely, "I can't believe the fucker made you cover it up,"

Frank turned to her with a small frown, instantly knowing what she was talking about. She had been completely bummed when Frank had told her what happened, and it made sense, since it was her art and everything. She had always been sensitive about her tags, and always got upset when one was covered up. People would say it was because she was a girl and she was sensitive, but she would most likely punch them and show them if she ever heard. She was a hardcore fucking feminist, and her passion soon rubbed on Pencil and Frank, who became feminists soon after.

"Yeah, it'd been an amazing piece. But he did let me go without any trouble though, and he was pretty damn cute, so we can't really be pissed at him. It's not like we can go confront him about it though, like 'yo, remember that we tagged your place illegally, well, fuck you for making us take it down!' I somehow don't think that's a good idea,"

Pencil snorted in laughter, seeming to forget about the popcorn.

"I'd do it,"

"I would've had the cops on my ass again though, I would much rather slap some white paint over it than have to go to the police,"

Octavia grimaced apologetically, "Yeah, you're right. You saved our asses that night, thank you, dude. I bet you sweet-talked him out of it, didn't you Ghoul? Heard you say he was cute?"

Frank grinned. "Hell yeah, looked quite gay too, very on the homosexual side, if I do say so myself, and you all know my gaydar is on fucking point. Though I don't know if I'll see him again, he might still be pretty pissed, kept talking about how his dad was gonna kill him if he ever found out or some shit, looked on the verge of a panic attack... Still cute though,"

"Spill," Octavia jerked her chin towards Frank, smiling. Pencil looked uninterested, as if Frank and Octavia were girls talking about their high-school crushes, instead gazing at the bags of Skittles piled behind Frank with adoration. He ate so damn much yet he was as skinny as a damn pole. Frank wasted no time, talking animatedly about the mysterious Gerard Way.

"Short choppy hair, right, did I tell you it was white? Like not blonde, fucking snow white, as white as his damn face. With this little upturned nose and these huge hazel eyes, like damn boy. He was so shy and awkward, looked like a total dork too, if I'm being honest, and in the morning I saw him with these adorable X-Men pajama pants, I was dead, 'Tavia, dead on the floor. He flushed when I kissed his cheek, God, he was damn adorable, and he kinda liked our art? But kept repeating this shit about his Dad... Did I tell you about his white hair?"

Suddenly, his ramble was interrupted by Pencil, who was now looking towards the doors of the cinema with a small smirk.

"White haired? I don't know how many white-haired kids there are in Jersey, but here comes one,"

Frank's head snapped towards the door, and sure enough, there was Gerard Way in person, walking next to a lanky boy who was a few inches taller than him, and wore glasses. Gerard and this guy were chatting animatedly, moving their hands with wild gestures as Gerard's face illuminated with a smile, looking amazed at everything the other dude said.

The pang in Frank's heart wasn't jealousy, what are you talking about.

A smirk pulled at Frank's lips as they approached the counter, presumably to buy tickets, and Octavia and Pencil moved aside, each with grins plastered on their own faces.

When Gerard finally looked up, his mouth fell open at the sight of Frank, whilst the other kid started to ask for some tickets.

"Hi, uh, can we get two for Star Wars?" He said, looking expression-less. Frank nodded, his eyes never leaving Gerard's, and he typed the information into the computer, waiting for the tickets to print. He decided to tease Gerard some more.

"Hi, Gerard,"

The white-haired boy seemed to snap out of his trance, and the taller kid looked behind him with surprise, apparently shocked Gerard knew someone. Gerard looked at the lanky guy and they seemed to have this intense conversation involving minimal eyebrow and face twitches, which honestly impressed Frank. Gerard gulped audibly, and they both turned back to Frank.

"F-Frank, this is Mikey, my brother,"

The tickets had already been printed, but the three of them seemed more interested in the conversation... Or lack thereof. Frank saw Octavia and Pencil watching amusedly out of the corner of his eye. Finally, Frank gathered the two movie tickets and handed them to Mikey.

"Anything else?"

"Mikey, why don't you head in, I'll get us something to eat," Mikey nodded, understanding, and Frank briefly wondered if they shared some kind of freaky telepathy thing because they were brothers. Gerard's brother handed Gerard his own ticket and shot a look at Frank, then walked awkwardly to the theatre.

"Hi, Gee-boy!" Frank grinned widely, proud of the cringy nickname he came up with. Gerard didn't look amused, but he looked curious for some reason, his eyes wide like there was a lot going on in his mind. He didn't answer. "Bet you were dying to see me, that's why you visited me, right? I told you we can't do anything in work hours, baby, you have to wait until my shift ends to make out,"

Gerard's cheeks tinted red and he ducked his head.

"No, I just came to watch Star Wars with my brother, and you have to stop that,"

"Oh, really, then why'd you stay behind and let your brother leave? I don't see you ordering any popcorn, Gerard, come on, you can say the truth, we're all... friends here," Frank grinned once again, amused at how adorable Gerard looked when he was embarrassed.

"I have to go,"

And with that, Gerard Way was walking away, scurrying off after his brother, Mikey.

"I'll visit you at your work next, Gee-boy!"

He watched Gerard's head involuntarily duck and his pace quicken. He smiled at the white-haired boy's back. He was the prettiest thing Frank had ever seen, and he really didn't feel like letting him go yet.

--
my mom is going on a trip and that means i can use her computer to write so ;--)
-blue