"You made yourself a bed at the bottom of the blackest hole and convinced yourself that it's not the reason you don't see the sun anymore."
'When It Rains', Paramore.
——

English class was always a subject Frank excelled at. He was regularly praised for his eloquent essays and dedication to the projects assigned to him, the fondness going as far as rewarding him with prizes, and once having a piece of his work sent to a national competition. He only settled into second place, but the honor's extravagance would never diminish as long as the trophy was displayed proudly in his home in California, silver and fairly sized so it didn't appear overly boastful if someone were to lay eyes on it.

Despite being known as a valuable student, Frank never allowed it to fluff his ego so much that it went beyond his common sense. He strode through the school halls humbly as any other student would because his achievements didn't separate him from the human race like the delusion some of his advanced placement classmates lived in. Frank decided he'd never mutate into a pretentious dickhead the same way they did. His confidence had no place in poisoning his attitude and his valued friendships with others who weren't as responsible with each of their assignments. Frank was able to believe in himself while also believing in others just as respectfully instead of peering down at them with disdain, his nose angled upwards in the air while dismissively turning his head.

English class came next in the row of classes Frank was scheduled to attend. He neared the doorway after locating the numbers imprinted on the doorway propped open to welcome the influx of students striding in one by one. He waited patiently in line as students wiped the soles of their shoes against the tattered rug inside stained with muddy residue from outside, decayed leaves, and soaked through from the rain. Frank took his turn eventually, dragging his shoes along the ruined carpet for what seemed to be no reason if the material was destroyed, but the watchful eyes of the teacher seated at his desk gave Frank a feeling he'd be instructed to wipe his shoes if he ignored the actions of other classmates. He shook the rain droplets off of his coat, quickly scanning over the classroom instinctively, before his eye was captured once again.

Towards the back of the classroom along the rows of desks pushed together in pairs occupying the rest of the small space, Frank's gaze entangled with that of Gerard Way's. Their eyes locked as students brushed past Frank, pinning one another into a stony state as if they were familiar, but Frank only knew of his existence for a short amount of time, and he was more than certain Gerard paid no attention to details such as Frank's name or what year he was. Yet, Frank felt his stomach plummet and his cheeks flush violently the same way they did when he crossed paths with a person he wasn't exactly excited to see in public, worsening to a separate degree as Frank noticed the way Gerard's form quickly became rigid, his onyx eyes tearing away from the link they'd created obliviously to staple their focus onto the desk he grasped the corners of with a grip Frank was surprised by. His posture and change of expression were unsettling.

"Are you the new student I'm expecting?" The teacher Frank's mind abandoned quickly broke through his turmoil. Frank collided with real time again and snapped his head towards the direction of the teacher awaiting for a response with a quirked eyebrow, the question hovering above it.

"Yeah. Sorry." Frank chewed his lower lip as he handed the teacher the slip he showed to each of his instructors that day. His spine tingled as his peripheral vision registered Gerard rigidly balanced in his seat across the room, struggling to ignore his presence calling out to him.

"Nice. We're finishing reading The Great Gatsby today, I have a copy for you." The teacher slid open the top drawer of his desk to reveal a weathered copy of a novel Frank's eyes studied many times on his own, stacked above a hardcover textbook with a highlighter yellow sticky note with Frank's full name scrawled messily onto it in red ink. "I'm already assigning a major project for this today, but I can excuse you from it so you have time to finish reading and do something else instead."

"That won't be necessary, I've read this one." Frank carefully took the books being offered to him in his hands, lightly shaking his head.

"You won't have an issue with doing a project on it?" The teacher, Mr. Wayne, asked skeptically.

"We read this at my old school and I've picked it up a few times after that." Frank pursed his lips, unsure of how he felt about being doubted.

"Oh." Mr. Wayne's expression cleared into a neutral look as he sat back in his desk chair. "That's good. We have assigned seats in that classroom, so I seated you next to Gerard Way. He's in the last seat on the last row to the right."

Assigned seats were never amusing for students to hear, but the moment Frank's ears captured the name, the plummeting of his gut resumed from where it began previously. The dryness developing in his throat was similar to cobwebs twirling patterns against the soft inner lining. He forced himself to swallow back a word of protest, nodding helplessly, and turned on his heels to slowly start down the row towards his assigned seat. Frank kept his eyes on the books cradled on his hands, partially focusing on not somehow loosing his footing over the slick linoleum and dedicating the rest of his strength to not raising his eyes to be ensnared by the trap awaiting in Gerard's, suffocating him with bizarre emotion that wasn't his own flooding in his brain forcefully. Frank almost tripped over someone's bag, but they pushed it out of the way by hooking their ankle around it and sliding it underneath their desk.

Frank pushed the plastic chair out to make room for himself. He sank down onto it, the metal legs creaking slightly underneath his weight, his heart pounding as his face was engulfed in an unflattering shade of red. He sensed Gerard tensing more if it were possible as he set his books onto the cool surface of the desk and shed his bag for it to rest between his feet after sliding a pencil out from the pocket in the front. Frank cursed the fact that the desks were pushed so close together that the inseams were practically glued to stay in place. His sensitivity to invisible sensations others couldn't feel for themselves left him a victim to practically being able to envision reaching out and touching the thickness of the atmosphere only enveloping himself and Gerard, the chill of it frosting over Frank's entire being coming close to quivering. He'd never encountered someone with energy like Gerard's. His was strong enough to bare what Frank imagined the combined auras from other people being instilled into one singular person felt like. Enough to transfer Frank into another realm of existence where desolation was the only residence there aside from the thunder and viscous lightening of Gerard Way's soul.

From the corner of his eye, Frank dared to steal a glance at Gerard. At the beginning, his eyes only landed on his arms bared to the heated classroom after he'd draped his coat across the back of his seat. His sleeves were rolled towards his forearms and Frank's eyes wandered across the veins underneath the porcelain skin dotted with random freckles, muscles thin as his discreet gaze continued to trail upwards and not downwards where his hands were clasped together so tightly that Frank questioned if it ached as much as it appeared. His eyes slid upwards and he was startled to find Gerard peering from the corner of his eye as well, unintentional eye contact Frank quickly shied away from to prevent sinking into those eyes like the times before. His breath quickened slightly as his heart began thunderously hammering after making some progress on slowing its demanding rhythm. Frank sighed, ashamed to discover it trembled when he released it, and opened his battered book to the page written in marker on the board up front.

The tension didn't lessen as the class dragged on. The challenge to focus was one Frank couldn't ring triumphant in for once. The feeble attempts to paint images in his mind as the class read over the remainder of the assigned novel were lesser than helpful as Frank couldn't avoid paying no mind to Gerard's wildly uncomfortable posture beside him. The way he carried himself caused Frank to feel the same, unintentionally growing rigid before he caught himself and relaxed, toying with the lip ring pierced through his lip as an anxious habit he picked up as soon as he was relieved of the sore tenderness of a puncture. Time bled as slowly as tar dribbling through a riverbank, seeping onto the parched earth as its own sluggish pace driving Frank's mind onto the brink of insanity as he constantly looked towards the clock. He hoped the informing strokes of the hands on the clock were behind and he could escape from the classroom sooner than it made him believe.  His frustration built each time he realized only a scarce amount of minutes passed whenever he went to check the time. It wasn't merely impatience, it was nearing desperation.

When the last page was turned and the students shut their books, Frank mimicked their actions and rested his lingering hands on the book, realizing he hadn't absorbed any of the reading they'd done. The sounds were muffled as if he submerged his head in a body of water to block out the noise. Frank pushed the book aside somewhat aggressively, causing it to fall with a thud, and a few heads turned to glance at the source of the sound. Frank swore under his breath, leaning down to pick up the book as blood filled his cheeks to show off his embarrassment boldly to strangers. He set it back onto the desk in a safe position so he wouldn't accidentally send it flying again. As he settled upright again, he noticed Gerard was leaning forward on the desk with his elbows propped up, hanging his head supported by his hands curling deeply into his dark locks sliding between his fingers like streamers of pitch silk. He slowly shook his head back and forth, appearing alarmingly unwell. In a striking moment, Frank questioned if the reason behind Gerard's behavior was a sickly feeling. A flicker of doubt loomed at the back of his mind, but Frank couldn't help but notice no other students were concerned with Gerard's current state.

"Are you okay?" Frank pushed the bleakness to the back of his mind as insistently as he could, although it lingered in the back of his throat. He was afraid now that he'd spoken to Gerard, adrenaline spiking cold in his bloodstream. Maybe he'd been mistaken, maybe his empathetic streak would result in disaster, but all he could do was wait for an answer after speaking up.

The sound of Frank's voice pulled Gerard to the surface. The taut pull of the muscles in his back flexed, similar to the roll of a shiver passing through his body. Gerard slid his fingers through his hair, drawing back the slightest bit for his head to tilt to the side, eyes shifting in Frank's direction underneath the protective shade of long eyelashes flaring out in delicate curls. His piercing gaze attached to Frank's, bounds curling tightly around Frank's resolve to remain planted to gravity, and the attempts to keep grounded were futile as they were incinerated by the smoldering flames within coal black irises. Frank's heart twisted within his chest and sank low past his ribcage as misery infiltrated his system. His senses were drowned by the incessant waves of pure sadness falling darkly upon his insides like it was birthed from the center of his heart as a result of some form of unwilling sacrifice that wasn't his own. The intake of emotion was so violent that Frank flinched back, fingers curling around the corner of the desk the same as Gerard's, only his own slipped against the smooth wood as cold sweat rose to the tips of his fingers.

As they stared each other down, Frank felt his eyes welling with tears to have insight on the kind of suffering just churning in Gerard. What sort of  awful occurrences had to be witnessed by a single person to cause such despairing emotion? Frank felt defeated, still within a moving universe, and the feeling wasn't his own, yet it couldn't be counted as unreal. It was the agony of a mangled heart suffering from every form of loss. His sympathies inflated in a swelling motion working through the borrowed hurting, tearing the breath from his lungs. He knew nothing about Gerard Way, but he knew too much simultaneously.  Frank's expression was shifting, his eyes glistening as he struggled to withhold the urge to release what struck him on the inside.

"I'm so sorry." Frank whispered mournfully, as if offering condolences to a person who lost a dearly loved one. Perhaps that was one of the grievances resting on Gerard's shoulders.

Gerard's stony expression slowly drained of the frigidness hardening his otherwise exquisite features. Shock orchestrated the movement of his brows, the part of his delicately shaped lips, and the black holes in his irises softened as Frank looked at him the way he did. Frank's gut twisted and he swallowed hard, feeling a single tear escape. At the sight of it, Gerard's expression was flashing with an unidentifiable look. Frank wouldn't be able to solve the mystery of it because Gerard was shooting up and out of his seat, the metal of the chair legs scraping harshly against the linoleum. Frank stared, puzzled as he wiped his tear away, and all of their classmates turned to look curiously.

"Gerard, what are you doing?" Mr. Wayne asked sternly as he watched Gerard robotically pack his things in a haste, grabbing tightly onto his backpack.

"I'm sick. I need to get out of here." Gerard wretched out in a voice that would've been pleasant to hear if it wasn't made coarse and tight.

"Without telling me first?" The teacher raised his eyebrows high in disbelief.

Wordlessly, Gerard stormed down the aisle, turning sharply at the end and stalking towards the door. He yanked it open, disappearing through it, and it shut harshly enough behind him to make the entire class startle, Frank included. His heart was pounding, his stomach roiling intensely enough for him to consider he might need to be excused as well for feeling ill. He breathed through his nose, ignoring the glances tossed his way since he was Gerard's seating partner. Frank stared down at his desk, his mind spinning as if he stumbled off a rickety rollercoaster built to twist at sickening degrees and zip through the air at a speed almost defying the laws of all things possible.

After the incident, class eventually resumed. Mr. Wayne called the office, quietly asking about the situation, and it all seemed to be in the clear when he was given answers. They discussed the book, although Frank wasn't listening much as he struggled to unscramble his mind, rubbing at his temples to chase the lingering remnants of darkness he caught into while searching Gerard's eyes. There was a strange feeling after that irked Frank deeply, a complex concoction of warning signals and something tasting of honey resting in the sunshine underneath his tongue. Frank was shaken by the impact remaining even after Gerard stormed out without another word. Despite his excuse, Frank knew Gerard wasn't ill. He was disturbed somehow, but Frank couldn't figure out why.

Mr. Wayne announced their project for the book would depend on combined effort between each student and their seating partner. The second it was revealed, Frank's heartbeat spiked again, his eyes flickering between the front of the room and the empty seat beside him. He sighed deeply, planting his open palm across his forehead. How was he meant to get anything done when his partner was not only gone, but the worst enigma Frank had ever come across? It was an assignment destined to fail miserably. Frank would more than likely be forced to do all the work; normally, he wouldn't complain since the assignment was fairly easy, creating a drawing or finding a song to demonstrate their understanding of the novel followed by a paper explaining the understanding. But, in a situation such as the one he was entangled in, Frank's head started to throb.

As everyone began to discuss the assignment during the final ten minutes of the class, Mr. Wayne approached Frank and spoke to him in a hushed tone.

"If Gerard doesn't come back in the next few days because he's not feeling well, I can extend the due date for you if you think you need it." The teacher offered, capturing the way Frank sulked while staring down at the sheet of paper explaining their assignment.

Frank looked up at Mr. Wayne, blinking a few times as he sorted his thoughts. "It's fine, I can turn it in on time by myself."

"You're okay with possibly having to work by yourself?"

"Yeah, I've had to do it before."

"Did you notice anything wrong with him before he stormed out like that?" Mr Wayne leaned back slightly and crossed his arms over his chest, his brows furrowed.

"I—I noticed he was, like, just sitting there with his head between his hands for a little while." Frank stumbled over his words slightly to be put on the spot, red blooming under his face. "I really believe he wasn't feeling well. I asked if he was okay, he didn't answer me."

"The nurse told me he went home early." Mr. Wayne said, nodding slowly. "Thank you. Pack up, the bell is about to ring."

Frank nodded, loading his things into his bag as the teacher returned to the front of the room to sink into his desk chair.

Frank's hands were unsteady when the bell rang and everyone rose up out of their seats. He slung his bag over his shoulder and waited for the largest mass of the crowd to pass through the door before slipping out of the classroom, sucking in a deep breath as some of the heaviness inside faded. He weaved his way through the herds of people passing through the halls to make his way to gym class, his mind assaulted by constant images of Gerard's cold stare and his stunned expression when Frank apologized to him. He suspected Gerard was confused by his utterance, which he could understand, because his ability wasn't something widely known. He mostly kept it to himself so no one would feel like their privacy was being invaded each time he came around. Reading others was natural to him as it was always there since before his memory could still recall, and others mistook him as overly empathetic when he was younger. Frank learned from his mother that it wasn't ordinary when he made a comment in the third grade about sensing a classmate's sadness while she mourned over the passing of her loyal family dog. Frank wept alongside her, puzzling his classmates because he wasn't properly acquainted with her, but it resulted in a friendship lasting until she moved away one summer to Colorado.

The burden was never so intense until Frank came across the teen carrying enough sorrow for it to nearly weigh as much as the entire population's combined sadness. Frank was still distracted heavily by the series of events passing through one day and the consequence of being distracted during gym meant being pelted by dodgeballs taking advantage of his vulnerability while he stood there lost in his head. One older kid threw hard enough for it to leave a red imprint on Frank's cheek, the harsh blow causing Frank to curse and stumble across the floor. The ear splitting whistle hanging around the teacher's neck had sliced through the air as she yelled at the kid to tone down the intensity of his throw and to be cautious of his aim. The senior only snickered and resumed shamelessly until the coach separated him from the exercise. Rubbing his throbbing cheek, Frank settled for paying more attention until the end of the period to beware of the dodgeballs being thrown.

When school was finally over and Frank retrieved his required text books from his locker for homework, he escaped to the parking lot, relieved to find the rain paused for the time being. He was steps away from his truck when he heard familiar voices calling out his name some spaces away from him. Frank halted, turning his head to see Adam and Frances standing near a faded forest green Nissan, waving him down once they caught his attention.

"Hey." Frank called back, waving in return.

"We're going to grab some slushies from the gas station and jam out with Ray at his place." Adam drew his car keys from the pocket of his jacket. "You wanna join us?"

Frank couldn't imagine who would crave a slushy in the type of weather they were having, but he refrained from commenting on that piece and considered Adam's offer for a short moment.

"Uh, I don't think I should." Frank awkwardly swayed in his spot. "My mom probably wants me to be home after my first day."

"Really?" Frances asked, disappointment matching the shrinkage of her smile.

"Yeah, and I just got here on Saturday, y'know?" Frank knew his mother would eventually be fine with him going out with friends, but he took her into consideration for the first week. "Maybe next time. I have to figure out what I'm gonna do with my project for english class, too."

"Damn, who did you get stuck with as a partner?" Adam leaned against the side of his car, nodding once questionably.

Frank felt a flush creeping up along the sides of his face, soon engulfing it entirely. "Um. Gerard Way."

"No fucking way! Seriously?" Frances gasped loudly and Adam startled out a laugh straight from his gut.

"Yeah." Frank squirmed with unease, fiddling with his truck keys. "He got sick, so he stormed out of the class, and. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be doing this on my own."

"Jesus, what a dick move." Frances fumed, crossing her arms across her chest as she jutted her hip out to display her disapproval.

"I mean, he looked pretty unwell." Frank faintly noted, his eyes falling towards the ground. He wouldn't reveal the finer details in the center of a parking lot with rain threatening to spill again.

"Well, good luck with that, man. He probably faked it to get out of doing anything." Adam said, shaking his head with a faint frown. "I won't keep you. Have a good rest of your day, Frank, nice to meet you."

Frank's smile wasn't bright, but sincere, and he captured the answering smiles of his friends bidding him goodbye.

"Nice meeting you both." Frank waved and waited for them to go their separate ways to climb into his truck to start on his way home.

When Frank arrived, he scurried into the house as the first sprinkles warning him of another round of heavy rain began dusting his cheeks the moment he hopped out of his thunderous vehicle. Frank's mother answered the door soon after he knocked, revealing a smoky scent from the inside that alarmingly made him aware of her frazzled appearance as she greeted him.

"Uh, is everything alright?" Frank asked as he stepped through the doorway, his eyebrows angled in a concerned arch.

Linda sighed heavily, wiping her hands covered in what appeared to be flour onto her apron dusted in the same substance, a smear of a darker powder running across her forehead. Tendrils of her hair came down loose from her bun resting at the nape of her neck, grays catching the reflective light from the bright whites and dull colors outdoors.

"I tried to bake a cake from scratch and the baking time I inserted was for the cake that serves a whole party." Frank's mother flushed, squeezing her eyes shut as she rubbed the pads of her thumbs across her eyelids. "I made the one that serves four people. That required a different time."

Suddenly, Frank understood the scent of something burning directing him towards the kitchen. He went pale as it intensified while he slowly inched in, the door to the oven hanging open to release curls of smoke rising from a nearly entirely blackened cake collected in a glass pan. It escaped through the open window willing the residue of the burned sweet to avoid triggering the smoke alarmed. Frank cringed, secondhand embarrassment causing a crimson flush of his own to crawl up his neck towards his cheeks.

"Jesus. I don't think we can save it even if we scraped the top off." Frank inspected the messy counter piled with ingredients along with the explosion of flour spilling onto Linda as well.

"This is why I never bake." Linda was the epitome of agitation as she stormed into the kitchen, sliding her hands into mitts to extract the pan from inside the over. She placed it on the counter over a towel she'd spread out in preparation, more than likely anticipating a lesser burned creation when she initially laid it across the surface. She slammed the oven shut, causing Frank to flinch slightly from the harshness of the sound.

"I'm sure it's happen to plenty of people." Frank quietly tried to make matters lighter, unsure of whether or not his words would only worsen Linda's severe disappointment.

"I just wanted to bake a cake for my kid's first day at a new school, is that too much to ask?" Linda unleashed another deep sigh, shedding the mittens and slapping them back into the drawer filled with other kitchen fabrics and rags.

Frank sensed the weight of her negativity targeting her own self, and with the sentiment behind her mission, his sympathies extended to her. He wasn't exactly sure how to express them since he wasn't as familiar with her as he was with his father, but he found it right to step towards her, plucking a rag from the inside of the drawer hanging open. He smiled disarmingly at her and reached out to wipe the smudge of cinnamon from her forehead. Linda reeled back slightly, confused, until Frank chuckled and showed her to substance transferred onto the rag.

"It's fine, mom, don't be so hard on yourself." Frank folded the rag in half and erased the remnants of cinnamon sprinkled across Linda's cheekbone. "I'll clean up and make us some dinner."

"Frankie, leave that to me. I'm sure you had a long day at school." Linda untied the apron from around her neck and removed it.

"Wasn't long enough to keep me from helping." Frank insisted, although he did feel drained internally. He felt for his mother, so instead of shooing out of the kitchen to take advantage of her kindness, he shed his bag along with his jacket to roll up his sleeves, approaching the mess to begin placing everything back in order without another word.

Linda didn't complain, but the warmth creeping into the ghost of her smile remained as they worked together to put things back into place, wiping down the counters as well as opening another window protected by a screen to air out the scent of burned sweet bread from the area. Frank helped scrape the pan clean into a trash bag, sympathizing with Linda's saddened frown as it tumbled in darkened chunks into the garbage. He disposed of the bag before she could linger too long on the thought and began digging through the fridge, retrieving ingredients for simple spinach and mushroom pasta. He was handy in the kitchen, and talented when it came to preparing dishes, so he'd been told. He assured Linda of his skill as he began separating the ingredients into strainers to rinse them thoroughly underneath the cool stream of water spilling from the sink faucet. She took the initiative to boil salted water for the pasta, waving a glass container of rich alfredo sauce to enhance the flavor of the dish.

Frank did most of the work on his own account, but didn't turn down Linda's offers for small favors to lend a helping hand so she didn't feel her presence was a burden in any way while he cooked. She set the table when dinner was nearly finished, only requiring a hint of pepper flakes and more parmesan to mix into the mouthwatering pan of pasta soaked in simmering sauce, accompanied by ripe mushroom halves tangled in forest green strips of spinach. Frank filled two bowls with pasta once he turned the heat off and carried them to the table for them to dig in, their stomachs rumbling with anticipation building from the aroma filling the household.

"Where'd you learn how to cook like this? Your dad sure doesn't know how." Linda asked curiously as she twirled pasta around her fork.

"I taught myself." Frank smiled faintly, popping a mushroom half into his mouth.

"Maybe you can teach me. I'm not the best in the kitchen, I don't know if you can tell." Linda chuckled.

Frank quietly agreed, and they fell into a comfortable silence as they worked through their dinner, occasionally pausing to sip at their cans of soda resting at their setting. Frank wasn't bothered by silence; he preferred it over force small talk and conversation the way his father's wife tended to do while they ate at the table. There was only so much to be shared in a singular day, especially when everyone worked around a specific routine that rarely changed.

Eventually, Linda made conversation, but it wasn't anything Frank hadn't expected her to ask. "How was school?"

Frank slowed his pace, coming to a pause after he was finished chewing. He set his fork down momentarily, his stomach turning as his thoughts immediately directed towards the unpleasant factors. He shoved the images aside, prepared to paint a satisfactory image for his mother.

"Not too bad. The classes are pretty easy so far. I made a few friends, they asked me to sit with them at lunch." Frank sucked his lower lip into his mouth to toy with the silver hoop attached to it.

"Really? I might know them, what are their names?" Linda brightened instantly.

"Adam Lazzara, Ray Toro, and . . . Frances Bean? I don't think that's her real last name, she says her friends call her that." Frank came to the realization that he didn't catch her surname.

"I don't think I know her or the first one, but I know Ray Toro. His mother is a saint." Linda smiled approvingly.

"He's pretty nice." Frank assumed his kind nature was inherited.

"He plays guitar, too. Do any of your other friends play?"

"Adam does, I think Frances does, too. We all have similar taste in music. That's how they found me."

"That's good you made friends you can get along with easily."

Frank nodded, falling short on how else to reply as his thoughts were once again flooded with images of coal black eyes whispering a haunting tale of bleak melancholy and something enchanting along the sidelines. Then, he recalled a fact Frances told to him, the part in her surplus of information where Mrs. Way worked as a doctor at the Astoria hospital, the same working place as his mother who took on the night shift.

"You know a lot of people here because you're a nurse, right?" Frank began hesitantly, his tongue nudging his piercing as his heartbeat stuttered with nerves.

"Yes." Linda nodded.

"Do you know anything about the Way family?" Frank was practically riding the tails of Linda's answering, catching himself off guard by the speed of his response.

"I work with Dr. Way! She's a joy to be around, so kind." Linda immediately beamed at the mention of the name instead of her face twisting into a look of mild distaste the way everyone else's did.

"Her kids go to my school." Frank slowly wrapped his fingers around his fork after abandoning his food. "My friends were saying they're kind of . . . weird."

"Well, they're all very smart kids with bright futures ahead of them. They're lucky to have a good parental figure to look after them." Linda shook her head to disagree with other opinions on the family. "Don't go with the crowd and judge them so harshly. They're all just very introverted and mature for their age."

"Have you met them?" Frank asked, keeping his expression void of anything negative so she wouldn't become suspicious of whether or not he had an encounter with one of the Ways.

"I've only gotten to know Kristin. She's come to the hospital a few times."

"The one who's dating Michael." Frank mentioned the thought aloud without fully realizing it until his mother nodded.

"I wouldn't let them be together and live under the same roof, but . . ." Linda shrugged. "Michael met and fell for Kristin in school when they lived in Washington. He found out she and Alicia were in an orphanage together and Mrs. Way felt bad for them. She took the girls in almost immediately."

The explanation behind a questionable situation suddenly cleared away the mist hovering towards one subject in an abundance of one enigma. Frank nodded, thoughtfully taking another mouthful of noodles so his dinner wouldn't grow cold from his lengthy pauses between bites.

"They're all scarily good looking." Frank noted, blood swirling beneath his cheeks to color them.

"You think so?" Linda raised her eyebrows, taking interest in Frank's comment.

"Well — it's, uh, a little obvious, isn't it?" Frank stammered under her inquisitive observation.

"I agree with you. I can't find a flaw in any of them." Linda chuckled. "Does the girl interest you? Alicia?"

"What?"

"You know, if you find the girl attractive . . . I can see if I can arrange something." Linda offered, smiling faintly. "You're a very smart and responsible kid, you might be a good match."

Frank's flushing cheeks escalated to a flaming face. At a loss for words, Frank merely lost a firm grip over his dinner utensil and it clattered loudly against the bowl, ringing out harshly enough for him to glance down in a panic to inspect the ceramic in case he caused any chips. The lack of destruction brought his focus back to Linda's offer he hadn't expected, odd laughter bubbling in his throat that he suppressed for how inappropriate it felt to release it before responding at all.

"I — I think you're getting the wrong idea, mom." Frank breathed, shaking his head through a partially horrified smile. "I was just curious about them."

"Oh? That's my bad." Linda's eyes grew nearly as wide as Frank's.

"It's fine, I mean, I guess it would be easy to assume I'd be interested in someone that . . . abnormally gorgeous." Frank fidgeted thinking of the beyond airbrushed beauty he didn't think was possible to find in a human being.

"All the male nurses turn into fools around Dr. Way." Linda said with amusement.

"Yeah. I can imagine why, if her kids look the way they do." Frank cleared his throat as lingering hesitation and questioning hovered around his head. "I'm just not interested in Alicia personally. I like shyer girls."

It wasn't obvious to others because he didn't follow stereotypes, but Frank was interested in both sexes. Although, he noticed after some thought that his tendencies lied with men more often than women, but it wasn't intentional, he imagined he could settle with any gender or someone who didn't identify as either. Frank hadn't gotten the chance to sit down with his mother to discuss his sexuality the way he'd done with his father, who didn't have strong enough communication patterns with his mother to pass the message along. At that moment, Frank wondered if instead of planning out an uncomfortable conversation, he could casually make a comment that would cause the pieces to click together in Linda's head. She was intelligent, surely enough she'd understand as it sank in.

"I think Gerard is the most good looking." Frank risked tossing out a comment before he could think more clearly in the matter and back out. Despite his bizarre experience with the artistic Way brother, Frank couldn't deny his mind frequently flickered to images of Gerard already burning their way into his memory like the scars of a branding iron pressing down on his mind.

After the comment was up in the air, Frank pretended to be fixated on his dinner as he dug back in with more enthusiasm. His heartbeat rose a notch, reminding him of the anxiety twisting his insides the day he planned on coming out to his father. Frank didn't fear for the worst, yet he wasn't expecting the most welcoming approach on the planet. Frank picked up on the way Linda froze for a moment as she absorbed Frank's words, the implications tangled within the deliverance of each syllable Frank applied thickly so it wouldn't slip past the most oblivious person. He swallowed a mouthful of food, pausing alongside his mother as he waited patiently for her reaction.

"You do?" Linda asked first, surprise coloring her softer spoken tone.

Frank licked his lips, guiding his soda can towards his lips for the aluminum to brush up against them, but he didn't take a sip yet. "Yeah. He's — uh, kind of beautiful."

Another moment of stunned silence passed. Frank took a swig of his soda, his gulp too grand so it felt painful as it slid down his throat. He winced slightly at the burn of the carbonation and set the can onto the table. He didn't raise his eyes from the table out of fear he'd have a visual of Linda's reaction before she put it into words. Frank drummed his fingers against the table as his patience began to waver for worry to overtake, straightening his spine in preparation to defend himself.

"I . . . don't know if he's interested in boys, but. Maybe I can ask the doctor for you." Linda slowly inserted her thoughts the same way Frank had. Discreet, yet the implications dripped heavily from her words.

Suddenly, Frank's caution vanished as if it never existed. He read into the atmosphere, gathering no sense of falsehood within it, and a silent sigh of relief filtered through his lungs.

"No, that's fine, I'm not looking for anything to happen between me and him." Frank finally lifted his eyes to meet Linda's that were still slightly stunned, but held no resentment. "But . . . thank you." For accepting me.

Linda softened, sitting less rigidly after the surprise she was in for. She gathered her fork in her hand and smiled discreetly. "Let me know if you change your mind."

They resumed eating in comfortable silence stretching out until they finished cleaning up the mess and parted ways to settle in with their own tasks.

Frank struggled trying to organize his project for English after completing his trigonometry homework with flying colors thanks to the power of the internet at his side. His artistic skills were practically all absent when it came to making an actual piece, which left him troubled trying to select a song to reflect on his understanding of The Great Gatsby. Halfway through scrolling through his music library stored on his computer, Frank's cellphone rang where it rested on the nightstand. His father was calling, bringing an automatic smile to his face.

"Hey dad." Frank answered after accepting the call.

"Hey Frankie, how's it going over there?" Frank Sr's rougher voice filtered through the speaker with genuine interest compared to how distant he seemed the past few days.

"Very stormy." Frank chuckled, glancing out the window towards the new downpour. "It's rained more here in three days than it's rained in a single year back home."

"I hope the gloom isn't taking such a toll on you."

"Eh, it's . . . manageable, I guess." Frank shrugged his shoulders.

"Great. You had your first day at the high school, right?"

"That's right." Frank chewed his lower lip as his attention pointed towards the computer screen again. "I'm already tackling a project with a partner who mysteriously got sick before it was assigned."

"Jeez, didn't the teacher think to cut you some slack?"

"He offered, but I'm fine." Frank diverted his thoughts away from Gerard Way, refusing to let the unsettling feeling tear down the progress he built away from him.

"Did you make friends?" On the other line, Frank could hear Lorelei speaking in the distance, along with the laughter of others making rounds after. Frank envisioned them in social setting, enjoying their free time with company.

"I made three. They're pretty cool, we have a lot of in common."

"That's great. Don't get in trouble so soon with those kids, hey?"

Frank rolled his eyes, refraining from laughing. "I'll turn down the party animal in me."

Frank's father laughed, causing Frank's smile to stretch further. "Nice to hear you're adjusting fine, Frankie."

"Yeah, as best as I can. Hey, um, I kind of came out to mom today at dinner." Frank tapped his fingertips across his desk, angling his chair away from the desk.

"How did that go?" Frank's father sounded surprised.

"As good as I hoped. But she also wasn't overbearing."

"Good to know." Frank's father commented distantly before shouting away from the phone, a round of boisterous laughter sounding from the other line.

"What are you guys up to?" Frank asked out of curiosity.

"Just hanging at a sports bar right now, your stepmom is one hell of a football fan." He sounded as if he took pride in having a partner who understood a man's fascination with sports. Frank was never fully intrigued by it, but he enjoyed spending quality time with his father by watching games with him on the couch, grinning whenever he shouted enthusiastically at the screen.

"Is she like one of the guys?" Frank asked, amused by the thought of Lorelei dressed in a jersey while shouting at the sprinting athletes launching themselves across a field of green.

"You bet." Frank Sr. drifted off again as exclamations loudly broke out over an alleged touchdown Frank couldn't see.

"Dad, you don't have to stay on the phone for long, you can go enjoy the game." Frank noticed his father's attention was being divided.

"You sure? I wanted to check in on you to make sure you're doing alright over there."

"I'm alive, that's the only thing you should really worry about." Frank chewed the corner of his thumbnail, withholding a sigh as he thought everyone out of state was surely having a better time than Frank at the moment, his computer screen dimming in preparation to fade to black due to inactivity.

"Awesome. Be nice to your mom, just stay out of trouble. You should cook for her like you do for us, that woman never learned how to cook without burning something."

"I know. Noted. Have a good time, dad."

Frank Sr. mumbled a goodbye before the line went silent, and Frank set down his cellphone with the sigh being held in his throat. He pursed his lips, glancing at the dark computer screen, the pitch shade drawing his mind back to the void of two irises baring the weight of the universe's anguish inside them. Chills erupted in Frank and slithered down his spine unpleasantly, until he tasted familiar sweetness beneath his tongue hinting something further created the strange soul belonging to Gerard Way. No matter which path Frank's mind took, it always directed back to the enigmatic figure spreading out like a bizzare puzzle Frank couldn't piece together because of the multiple missing details he knew better than to search for. Yet, something cried out to him as he shut his eyes, wading in a frozen river paving the way through his mind he considered corrupted ever since he knew about the Way family, their peculiar beauty and stone cold shells encasing seemingly normal human beings for the way they lived out their lives.

That night, after smoking three cigarettes in a row outside when the rain fell in dusting droplets hardly enough to soak through anything, Frank showered and settled into bed with lurking thoughts disrupting his peace. His annoyance seeped through at his lack of success for his project thus far, leaving him wondering if his partner would somehow come through in the following days- but the solid weight of doubt settled in his stomach. His distress became tangled in how his father seemed somewhat attentive that day, but far off, more eager to consult with his friends and new bride instead of showing enthusiasm over Frank the way he used to. Frank wasn't bothered in the beginning, but his tendency to overly reflect caught the best of him, especially when he longed for nothing but sleep. He captured the lack of communication with the people he considered friends and eventually discarded his phone after scrolling through social media, watching them move along together without him fitting into the frame of their pictures the way he used to.

For the first time since arriving to Astoria, Frank felt the weight pressing down on his chest. The absence of the things he cherished most sank in, along with the sound of melancholy rain thundering down onto the rooftops, and a single teardrop was allowed to slip from the corner of his eye before Frank swatted it away in frustration. He couldn't pout over his own decisions. He knew it was for the best to give his father some time to himself and to his kind new wife, but his insecurities webbed together unpleasantly and didn't blend well with the sound of the rain outside. Frank squeezed his eyes shut, halting the tightness in his throat followed by the warm tears accumulating in his ducts, and forced himself into sleep so they would've have a chance to fall onto his pillow.

—–
I really hope some errors didn't make it through, but they always slip by me, so I'm sorry if you caught any.

I hope you're enjoying this! Next chapter is gonna be even better, we're getting in some proper interaction. I've been watching and reading the Twilight series so much lately, it feels good to get back into it.

"In starlit nights I saw you. So cruelly you kissed me. Your lips a magic world, your sky all hung with jewels."

-rosexo