Chapter Text
I don't know what other people say, or what they think is love
But I know what it means to me, I fall in love so easily
//
I’m a hopeless romantic
You’re just hopeless
Hopeless Romantic, Bouncing Souls
An early morning in a shabby CD store… just another day in my charmed little life, Gerard thought as they slipped the key into the lock and pushed through the front door. It wasn’t so bad, really, working at the shop. Gerard enjoyed it as much as someone could possibly enjoy working 40 hours a week in order to survive. Gerard and Mikey were opening that day, so the store interior was obscured in darkness when they arrived. Gerard flicked the switches on the wall and watched as the overhead lights slowly blinked to life, casting the compact rows of wooden shelves lining the store in a hazy yellow glow.
Traffic through the store had been slow as of late, but Gerard knew that this was the relative calm before the storm. College classes would resume the next week, which meant a steady influx of students returning to campus and the surrounding areas. Gerard liked the start of the busy season, he enjoyed getting to see familiar faces and learn some new ones. It helped to break up the monotony of the day to day, and more importantly, it kept him distracted from his impending return to college after his failed attempt at art school.
It was Monday, which meant that it was inventory day. Mikey hated inventory day, but Gerard secretly sort of liked it. There was something about the defined process - the systematic review of the records, capturing the numbers on a physical piece of paper and then carefully updating the rows of the archaic Excel sheet Brian insisted on using - that was all sort of soothing to Gerard. It scratched a weird itch in their brain that they couldn’t really explain. Gerard grabbed the red acrylic clipboard from where it was hanging on a thumbtack in the office and crossed the narrow hallway that emptied into the store. Mikey was sitting on the counter that held the register, hunched over his phone and swinging his legs. He didn’t even glance up when Gerard breezed past him.
Gerard braced against the counter, reaching over Mikey to snag his favorite pen from the mesh container near the card reader. He mindlessly clicked the pen a few times, looking over the clipboard meticulously. Mikey spoke without looking up from his Sidekick.
“It’s too quiet. Can you put the music on?” Mikey’s fingers were a blur of motion on his keypad.
Gerard leveled Mikey with an annoyed expression that he certainly wouldn’t see. He clicked the pen a few more times before responding.
“I’m busy, Mikes. Ya know, doing our job. Why don’t you pick the playlist?” Gerard started towards the first aisle, ready to lock in on the task at hand.
Mikey responded with a noncommittal grunt, his scrawny legs kicking carelessly in front of him.
Gerard set about their work, moving with purpose down the aisle and dutifully documenting counts of each record on the shelves. It was going okay, at least at first, until he noticed the rhythmic sound of Mikey’s ankles hitting the desk and the click-clack of his fingers tapping his phone's plastic keys. It was too quiet. Once they focused in on the sound, they couldn’t ignore it. They tried to resume the inventory counts but kept getting pulled out of focus by Mikey’s stupid little noises.
Gerard made it all the way through the A section before the distraction became too much. They discarded the clipboard onto the pile of records they’d been working through and retreated into the back of the store where the office was. He plopped down into the worn leather office chair at Brian’s desk and fired up the archaic PC. Gerard’s leg bounced up and down while he waited for the thing to finally boot up. The screen came to life and Gerard moved the cursor to select the “GWAY” user icon from the menu and hastily entered the password.
They considered the available playlists in the media player’s menu. There was one dedicated to local artists, a handful organized by genre or by decade, a chaotic one with a truly random mix of shit, and a more recent playlist Gerard had made featuring some cool Japanese artists he’d recently gotten into. The cursor bounced anxiously between the options for a moment before Gerard settled on his personal favorite: Locals Only.
Gerard pushed back from the desk as the sound of crashing symbols and a fast, dirty guitar riff blared over the store’s sound system. He picked up where he’d left off, scooping up the clipboard and placing it into the crook of his arm. Gerard glimpsed over at Mikey, who was still perched on the counter, but had discarded his Sidekick beside him and was grinning at Gerard, apparently approving of their playlist choice. Mikey’s fingers tapped against his bony knees and he nodded his head to the beat.
–
An hour or so passed. Gerard flitted from aisle to aisle taking inventory while Mikey mostly sat on the counter absorbed in the music, occasionally shifting to pick up his phone or shift around some boxes near the register, but never to do actual work. Gerard didn’t mind that Mikey mostly phoned it in while they were working and never really help out with the day to day tasks. He was just happy to be employed at all, let alone to get to see his brother almost daily and get paid for it. Despite Mikey’s pretty abysmal work ethic, he somehow shined as a salesman, at least when he felt like it. Mikey’s particular brand of charm didn’t necessarily land with every customer, but when he turned his focus onto someone, it was really incredible to see.
The usually disengaged and quiet guy turned into a social fucking butterfly. His whole face lit up when he talked about music and there was a sparkle in his eyes that made patrons feel immediately comfortable with him. The customers would instinctively lean into Mikey as he talked or led them around the store, hanging on his every word. This always left Gerard feeling a weird mix of admiration, pride, and envy. Gerard wasn’t so good at talking to people. That’s why their boss, Brian, had basically relegated Gerard to the more administrative tasks around the store. He didn’t mind this per se, but he did occasionally miss getting to connect with a customer over a shared interest.
That was the exact scenario playing out when Gerard stopped doing counts for a moment and flicked a glance over to the register. Mikey was bent over the countertop, resting on his elbows, and having a very intense conversation with a cute punky girl with spiky black hair. He was listening closely to whatever she was saying, peering down at her over his glasses and nodding his head occasionally. The girl let out a sharp, loud giggle and Mikey rewarded her with a crooked smile.
Gerard sighed, wishing that he had inherited even a fraction of the charm his little brother had apparently been graced with. Gerard always felt so awkward, so out of place, like an alien who had crash landed on Earth and been left to his own devices. It had never been very easy for them to make new friends. Maybe he could take some cues from Mikey, borrow a few plays out of his playbook, and use them to expand his own circle. As much as Gerard loved hanging with his brother and their tightknit group of friends, they also understood that there was space for more in their life. More friends, more experiences, more creative energy, more moments of levity and joy, more love.
And really, Gerard was kind of in the perfect place to make those connections - there were so many interesting people who came into the store every single day. Interesting people with whom he had a shared interest, an easy in. The only thing standing in the way was Gerard’s tendency to hide themself away from the world, always trying to blend into the background and not take up any space.
–
Gerard finished inventory in record time that day. They had been going non-stop since arriving at work that morning and they were eager to have a moment to just turn their brain off. He was back in Brian’s office, returning the inventory clipboard to its spot on the wall before crouching down to dig through his tattered messenger bag to find his pack of cigarettes. Gerard had just freed them from the depths of his messy bag when he heard the rusty creak of the office door swinging open.
“Oh, hey. You finished with inventory?” Brian was leaned against the doorway, looking even more exhausted than usual.
“Mhm, just wrapped up. ‘Bout to take my smoke break. Wanna come?” Gerard rocked back onto their heels, holding out the pack of cigarettes towards Brian.
Brian crossed his arms and averted his gaze from Gerard. That wasn’t a good sign.
“I would, Gee, but I really need your help stocking. One of the vendors got their schedule fucked up and the big shipment we were expecting next week is here now. Can you help a bit before you take your break?”
Brian was a nice dude. He owned and ran the shop, and Gerard actually liked him quite a bit, both as a boss and an acquaintance. The store was Brian’s baby, and while he definitely took his role seriously and sometimes had to make some hard calls, he wasn’t some small business tyrant. He had a heart, and he tried his best to accommodate his employees when he could.
Brian was still in the doorway, looking at Gerard remorsefully. They had really been looking forward to hitting pause for a second, but supposed it could wait. They let the cigarettes drop back into the messenger back and stood up. Brian gave them a wan smile and headed into the store, and Gerard followed reluctantly.
They decided to divide and conquer by splitting the shipment down the middle. Brian was stationed towards the front of the store, stocking the endcap displays highlighting new releases. Gerard was in the middle of the store, preparing to stock the aisles that they had literally just finished inventorying. He was trying his best to neatly stack the boxes he needed to unpack so that they wouldn’t be blocking the customer’s footpath. It was always a pain in the ass to have to stock this much stuff when there were actually customers in the store. The last thing Gerard needed that day was for a customer to trip and to get injured and for Brian to have to fill out an incident report. Gerard kept fretting with the boxes, using his foot to nudge them closer to himself. A few customers passed by as they did this, apparently unbothered by the close quarters.
–
Gerard had settled into his groove pretty quickly and had been moving on autopilot, oblivious to anything else going on around him in the store. There was just one box left to unpack. They were so close to being done, they could practically taste the cigarette already. They bent down to grab a handful of records - The Smiths - and carefully slot them onto the shelf.
A burst of noise snapped Gerard out of their laser-focus. He looked up towards the commotion, a small group had just entered the store and were cackling loudly and roughhousing with each other. They all looked college aged and had a weird mish-mash of aesthetics. The guy in the lead had short-cropped blonde hair and was all lean muscle, definitely a jock type. He was trailed by a couple of hippie chicks, who were playfully heckling the guy for whatever dumb shit he’d just said. Gerard’s eyes tracked the group as they filtered into the store.
Gerard actually recognized the next guy. He came into the store fairly often and they’d talked a handful of times. He was easy-going, sweet, and extremely knowledgeable about music. The guy was tall - about 6’1 - and had the most gorgeous curly locks that sat just above his collarbone. Everything about the guy was striking, from his facial structure to his deep brown eyes. Whenever he came into the shop, Mikey would light up and spend way too long talking to him. Mikey had totally told Gerard his name before, but it was escaping them right then.
Trailing behind him was someone Gerard didn’t think they’d ever seen before. He was pretty sure he would’ve remembered if he had. The new guy was short and had a distinctly punk aesthetic that made him stand out from the rest of his friends. The sides of his head were buzzed and dyed bright fucking red, providing a bold and gorgeous contrast against the rest of his choppy jet-black hair. The front of his hair was grown out and swooped over to one side of his forehead, curling a little on the end. Gerard could see colorful ink peeking out from where the guy had pushed up the sleeves of his striped cardigan.
Gerard’s mouth suddenly felt very dry and they knew they had been staring for way too long, but it felt nearly impossible to actually look away. They couldn’t get enough of the guy’s features, the way his face lit up as he talked to his friends, the way his tattooed fingers looked wrapped around the CD he’d pulled from a shelf. The spell was only broken when the group rounded the corner of the aisle they’d been browsing and were now facing in Gerard’s direction. He quickly averted his eyes and turned his attention to the box at his feet.
Gerard busied themself with work, desperately willing time to speed up so they could just be done already, wanting nothing more than to flee the store and go hide in the alleyway. They didn’t know why they were having such a strong reaction to this situation, but they were. Their anxiety only increased when they sensed the group’s voices growing louder, getting closer to where Gerard was standing.
Gerard picked up the pace. He hastily grabbed the last few records from the box and slotted them haphazardly onto the shelf. With that, he was officially done. He could leave right then, make a break for the back of the store, and go get some fresh air. When Gerard turned, their sneaker connected with the empty pile of boxes they’d been unpacking. The thought occurred to them that they really shouldn’t leave a bunch of boxes there in the middle of the fucking store, but decided to come back for them later. Then, he overheard the conversation happening in the next aisle over.
“Ow, Toro, fuck. I said leave it alone,” someone hissed out through gritted teeth, clearly trying to keep their voice low.
Gerard absolutely did not want to be eavesdropping on customers, but found themself frozen in place. He didn't dare turn his head to see who was speaking, but also couldn’t make his feet move in the opposite direction like he desperately wanted to. Whoever the person was talking to replied, and Gerard thought they recognized the second voice. It was the handsome guy that Mikey liked to chat with, whose name Gerard would maybe remember one day.
“Dude, you were literally just complaining about her not being here last time we came. She’s here now, do something about it or stop bitching.”
“Have I ever told you that I can’t stand you?”
Gerard didn’t sense that there was much sincerity behind those words.
“Frank, this is my duty as your best friend. And dude, I already told you, she’s really nice! And has decent taste in music. Just ask her to help you find a record or something. It’s not that hard.”
Frank. The cute stranger’s name was Frank. That was one mystery solved, at least. The other mystery was too hard for Gerard to fully parse just then. Their mind was racing. Frank and his friend were talking about Gerard, right? They had to be - the only people in the store right then beside Frank and company were Brian, Mikey, and Gerard.
Okay, so, Frank and the other dude thought Gerard was a girl. Big deal. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for Gerard to be perceived as more feminine by some people. It had happened a lot during their time at art school. And to be fair, Gerard was dressed on the more femme side today - they were wearing a black midi skirt with red stitching on the hem and an embroidered dagger on the hip, a flowy black tank top they’d cropped themself, chunky rings on both hands, and two sparkly plastic bat clips pulling back their hair from their face, showing off the multiple piercings on each ear. Gerard’s work outfits tended to be a bit more exploratory, more bold. They thought it was fun to accessorize and try out different looks.
The black face mask obscuring the lower half of Gerard’s face probably contributed to Frank’s perception of them, too. It was easy to fill in the gaps based on other context clues when you weren’t seeing someone’s whole face. He always wore a mask at work, at first just to protect himself from getting sick, but it had quickly become a buffer for his social anxiety. It was a way to hide their reactions or avoid having conversations when they weren’t really feeling up to it. It protected Gerard both physically and emotionally, truly a win-win.
And honestly, Gerard rarely thought about how they were being perceived at work. The people who came into the store were generally very cool and open, a lot of them queer themselves. Most of the time, when Gerard was wearing something particularly bold, customers either showered him with compliments and asked where he’d purchased a certain piece or ignored him altogether. But overhearing this conversation felt different somehow. Gerard could barely focus on anything other than the pounding rush of blood in their ears. He hoped it would block out the conversation he absolutely should not have been listening to.
“I’m not gonna bother someone while they’re at work! That’s fuckin’ weird,” Frank grumbled. “And it probably happens to her, like, all the time.” Frank said that part quieter, almost like he was saying it to just himself.
“I get it, okay, but it’s only weird if you make it weird. But like, seriously, Frank. If you don’t do it, I’m gonna do it for you.”
That warning tone was what did it, what allowed Gerard to shift from the freeze fear response to the flight response. There was adrenaline coursing through their entire body, and they felt like they had to move right that second or they were going to fucking implode. Gerard turned quickly on his heels, eyes fixed on the checkered tile floor as he hurried towards the hallway, desperate to reach the back door and be able to breathe again.
Gerard had just crossed the threshold from the store into the hallway and was officially out of view from the rest of the shop. They reached up and removed the loop of the mask from around one ear with a shaky hand, letting out the breath they'd been holding in. They didn’t make it any farther than that before being summoned back by Brian.
"Gee! Hold up a sec," Brian called from across the store.
Gerard felt the breath catch in their lungs. Fuckin’ Brian. He’d already interrupted Gerard’s first break. What could he possibly want now? Gerard heaved a sigh and fixed the mask back onto their face. They took a few shuffling steps out of the hallway and turned, intending to go back into the store and face Brian. Instead, Gerard was immediately greeted by the sight of Frank and his friends standing just a few feet away.
They had apparently finished browsing the aisle they’d been in a moment before, and they were now directly in the line of sight between Gerard and Brian. A few paces to Gerard’s right, the two girls and the blonde jock guy were huddled together, flicking through some records. Frank and his other friend were facing each other, having a hushed conversation. When they realized that Gerard had turned around and was looking directly at them, Frank’s friend had perked up and given them a sunny, winning smile.
“Hey, Gee! Good to see you again,” Frank’s friend said, raking a hand through his hair. Gerard didn’t get a chance to reply, though. The guy shot Frank one last stern look before turning away to join Mikey up at the register.
That left only Frank and Gerard. They had no choice but to look at Frank right then, like really look at him. Frank’s gaze met Gerard’s and held steady, like there was nothing else in the world worth looking at. They could see all of Frank now, and drank in all of the little details they hadn’t been able to see from across the store. Little details like how gorgeous Frank’s eyes were, the rosy tint to his cheeks, the silver hoops on his nose and his lip, and the fact that beneath his oversized cardigan, Frank was wearing white button down with the first few buttons undone, exposing a bold chest piece tattoo.
Frank’s cardigan was adorned with a few pins and patches, and he was wearing a pair of faded black jeans with fraying ends that hugged his hips perfectly and were being held up by a bubblegum pink belt. His high top converse sneakers had little hand drawn symbols and lyrics all over them. Gerard was eternally grateful for the mask that was obscuring the lower half of his face from Frank’s view, because that meant he couldn’t see the way his mouth had fallen open in surprise. They had known from a distance that Frank was cute, but up this close, he was completely gorgeous. He was exactly Gerard’s type.
Gerard felt so fucking lightheaded. Only a few seconds had passed since Brian had called out for them, but Gerard felt like they had been standing there, transfixed by Frank, for a hundred years. They probably looked so fucking weird, not responding to Brian, not saying anything to anyone, not making an effort to move. Mercifully, Frank was the one to break eye contact first. But before he did, he flashed Gerard a toothy smile and waved, waggling his fingers at them. It was so fucking endearing.
“Gee, c’mere real quick,” Brian said, beckoning Gerard with one hand. The other hand was adjusting something on the wall near him.
Free from Frank’s gaze, Gerard was actually able to move their feet. They practically jogged over to where Brian was standing in the front corner of the store, desperate for some separation between him and whatever the hell had just happened back there with Frank.
“What’s up? I was finally about to take my smoke break,” Gerard said when he reached Brian, who had apparently just finished installing some floating shelves on the wall.
“Yeah, shit, sorry dude. I know you’ve been going nonstop today. Remember that idea I told you about a few weeks ago? The blind date with a CD thing?” Brian was fussing with one of the shelves, adjusting it even though it was already perfectly straight.
“Yeah, I still think it’s a cool idea.” Gerard felt a flash of annoyance at the fact that this was the thing apparently more important than his break.
“Think you can work on it this week? I really want to have it before that event next weekend. And everyone’s been loving the last display you did, the staff recommendations one, we get so many compliments on it. I think you’ll do great with this, too.”
“Oh, uh, thanks. Sure, I think I can pull it off by then,” Gerard replied, their tone clipped. “Now can I please go on my break?”
Brian flashed Gerard a huge smile and patted him on the shoulder, sending him on his way.
Gerard was flooded with relief. Now they just had to find the best path through the store and to the back door without running into Frank or his buddies again. That was going to be difficult, apparently, as they were just a few feet to Gerard’s left, all huddled around the counter where Mikey was ringing up the jock guy. Gerard would have to go the long way around the store to avoid them. Okay, fine, no problem, Gerard thought. At least they were all preoccupied with Mikey and wouldn’t notice Gerard going completely out of their way around the store just to avoid them.
He moved quickly around the perimeter of the store, head down and eyes fixed on his scuffed Converse as they moved across the tiled floor. He was halfway to his destination when he was startled by sudden movement in his peripheral vision. His head snapped towards the motion. Frank and his friend were in the aisle closest to the back hall. Frank’s friend was bracing his hands on Frank’s shoulders, his head bent down so their foreheads were touching. He was saying something to Frank in a confidential tone. When he pulled back, he spun Frank around and gave him a not-so-subtle shove in Gerard’s direction. Frank looked about as mortified as Gerard felt. Frank ran a hand through his hair and took a hesitant step towards Gerard.
“Yo, uh, Gee? Right? Sorry, I heard that dude say your name. Uh, you work here, obviously, so I was wondering…” Frank’s words trailed off, but his eyes never left Gerard’s. He worried at his lip ring before continuing, “Could you point me in the direction of some stuff I’ve been looking for?”
Gerard’s head was swimming. They felt so warm under Frank’s gaze, and the hint of nervousness in his tone made their heart swell. Gerard was never fucking getting his smoke break.
“Hey, yeah, uhm. I was actually about to go on my break, but I can help you,” Gerard replied, hoping Frank wouldn’t hear the way their voice wavered at first. “Whatcha lookin’ for?”
Relief washed over Frank’s face. It was unbelievably cute. Gerard was doomed.
“I’m looking for stuff by local bands, I dunno if you really carry a lot of local shit here. Do you?”
Gerard hummed thoughtfully before actually responding. “I mean, depends what you mean by local? Like, we definitely have Bon Jovi, but probably not The Banner, ya know? But we are actually trying to get more stuff from smaller local artists into the store.”
“No fuckin’ way you just mentioned The Banner, I love them! I haven’t really met anyone else who knows them outside of people at their shows. That’s so cool.” Frank’s face came alive with excitement and he was rocking up onto his tiptoes, clearly genuinely stoked to be talking about this. He must’ve realized he didn’t actually answer Gerard’s question, so he continued. “Uh, I was actually hoping you had the new Thursday record? Also, like, anything by Bouncing Souls would be cool.”
“Oh, yeah, they’re fuckin’ great! I actually stumbled into one of their shows by chance with a friend and we were totally surprised at how good they were,” Gerard replied easily. The way Frank was looking at him now was working wonders for his nerves, the tension seeming to evaporate from his body under the man's steady gaze. “Okay, so we definitely have Bouncing Souls stuff, but the Thursday album might be out of stock, there were only a few left when I did inventory earlier. Let’s take a look.”
Gerard started down the aisle, turning to look back over their shoulder to make sure Frank was in tow. He was, and was failing miserably at trying to contain his little smirk. Gerard’s felt the stirrings of something low in their stomach. Was this what they meant by getting butterflies in your stomach? Gerard wondered idly. They had always assumed that was just something people said in cheesy romcoms and poems, not an actual sensation that one could feel. Frank was too cute for his own good.
Gerard stopped in front of the B section and immediately went into work mode, one hip pressed against the shelf as they flipped through records to find what Frank was looking for. They angled their body towards Frank and started rattling off his options.
“Okay, so, Bouncing Souls. What are you in the mood for? We’ve got,” Gerard paused and considered the titles in front of him. “Lots of The Good, The Bad, and The Argyle, looks like just one copy of self-titled, Hopeless Romantic, and some Anchors Aweigh.”
Frank didn’t respond right away. Gerard stopped flipping through the records to look at him. He was reaching out towards Gerard, towards the plastic sleeve that was still loosely pinched between their fingers. He panicked a little, thinking about how he should probably pull his hand away or move to grant Frank access to look through the options himself. But Gerard’s body and his brain were apparently not friends today, so he didn’t move a muscle. Then, Frank’s hand was covering his own and gently lifting up the record.
“Hopeless Romantic,” Frank finally said. He had that crooked little smile on his face and Gerard noticed for the first time the dimple on his right cheek.
“What?” Gerard asked stupidly, breathlessly. Their mind had gone blank, they couldn’t focus on anything besides the feeling of Frank’s fingers brushing gently against their own.
“The record? That’s the one I wanted.” Frank giggled, a sharp and pleasant little noise.
“Oh, right. Great choice,” Gerard finally replied when his brain decided to catch up. He let go of his grip on the record and let Frank take it. “Alright, Thursday is over here.”
Gerard led the way again, but didn’t risk peeking back at Frank this time. Their heart was already fucking pounding in their chest, they might not survive another one of his heart melting smiles. When they reached the T section of records, Gerard noticed that most of Frank’s friends had left the shop and were standing outside near the curb, passing a cigarette around. The guy who came into the shop often had stayed inside, and he was leaning over the counter and showing something on his phone to Mikey.
“Okay, let’s see if today’s your lucky day,” Gerard said as they started flipping through the T records. He didn’t have to look for long. He found the plastic white divider tab with THURSDAY written at the top in his handwriting, and it was empty. He turned to Frank and shrugged apologetically.
“Damn, alright, yeah. It’s no problem. Thanks a lot for helping me look, anyway, Gee.” Frank’s face fell a little, clearly disappointed, but it didn’t seem to be directed at Gerard.
The sound of Gerard’s nickname coming so easily out of Frank’s mouth made their heart skip a beat. It felt a little weird for him to know their nickname, while they didn’t technically even know Frank’s name at all. They had only picked it up from a conversation they had not been meant to overhear. And then, realization washed over Gerard that their interaction was about to come to an end.
When Frank had first walked into the store that day, Gerard had been dying to get out of there. He had tried and failed to avoid having to interact with Frank, but now that they were interacting - and it was going relatively well - Gerard felt a little pang of sadness at the thought of it being over, at the thought that they may never see Frank again.
“No problem, uh,” Gerard said, looking at Frank searchingly and holding a hand out towards him. Frank eventually took the hint.
“Oh, fuck, my bad! I’m Frank.” The hand that wasn’t holding his record reached up to meet Gerard’s. He took note of the way their hands looked pressed together, how Gerard’s bare skin was contrasted so beautifully by the vivid splashes of ink on Frank’s.
“Frank. Cool. Nice to meet you, Frank,” Gerard responded. “Hey, if you want, you could come back next week. We usually get new shipments by like, mid-week, and we’ll definitely get more Thursday records in.”
The pair were walking side by side, heading towards the register so Mikey could ring Frank up. Silence stretched out between them. Frank still hadn’t responded to their proposition. Had they misread the situation? Was Frank weirded out that Gerard invited him back? When they had made the offer, it wasn’t like that. Okay, it was admittedly a little like that, but also Gerard was just doing their job, giving good customer service. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that if Frank didn’t want it to.
At the counter, Mikey’s head was tilted back, laughing hard at whatever Frank’s friend had just told him. The guy was grinning up at Mikey, clearly pleased with the reaction he’d elicited. When Gerard and Frank approached the register together, Frank’s friend broke out into a huge grin.
“Alright, Mikey, it was so good to see you. Actually, hey - I'm gonna run across the street for some coffee, wanna come?” He was tapping out a beat on the countertop and looking at Mikey hopefully.
“Yeah, for sure. Gee, can you cover for me for a few minutes so I can go hang with Ray?” Mikey was already scooping up his phone and wallet and moving out from behind the counter in a way that told Gerard he was going to get that damn coffee regardless of what they had to say. At least he knew Ray’s name now.
Maybe it was exhaustion from this emotional rollercoaster of a day, or simply because he liked seeing his little brother look so happy, but Gerard didn’t feel like putting up a fight. The store was basically empty at this point, Gerard thought they could handle it for a little while longer.
“You so owe me, Mikes.”
Gerard took up Mikey’s place behind the counter and entered their employee code. The P.O.S. system took a few moments to respond and grant them access. Frank was on the other side of the counter, busying himself with looking through the random knick-knacks they had for sale up there, mostly stickers and pins. They scooped up Frank’s record, turning it over to find the barcode on the back and scan it. Frank fished in his back pocket for the wallet chained there and pulled out his card.
Frank was still fixing Gerard with that crooked grin, but wasn’t saying anything. He was chewing at his lip ring again, clearly turning something over in his mind. The transaction passed by in silence, and Gerard’s nerves were coming back with a vengeance. Why was this so fucking awkward? Gerard pulled the receipt off the printer and slid it over the counter to Frank, who had already fished a pen out of the mesh container to sign the receipt with.
Gerard was about to speak up, break the silence by giving Frank some generic ass customer service response and then sending him on his way, but he didn’t get the chance. Gerard was startled by the feeling of Frank’s hand on his own for the third time that day.
Frank took Gerard's hand, the one they’d used to pass the receipt to him. He cupped it in both of his own hands, then gently turned it over so that Gerard’s palm was facing up. He was resting his elbows on the countertop and absently smoothing his thumb over Gerard’s open palm. His brain was working overtime trying to figure out what the fuck Frank was – but then Frank’s pen was moving across his palm. He thought absently about how it sort of tickled, and then understanding washed over him. Frank finished writing and placed the pen back in its holder.
“Call me,” Frank said, peering up at Gerard from behind the hair that had fallen over his eyes. “I’ll come back to see you.”
Gerard only managed to sputter out the stupid canned response he’d been planning to give a moment earlier, Thanks for your business, have a great day or some shit like that.
Frank scooped up his record from the counter, carefully tucking it into his side. As he reached the front door, he cast a final glance back at Gerard and waved goodbye.
Gerard stood completely still at the counter for several minutes, unable to look away from the spiky black numbers written on their palm. Frank’s phone number. Frank, who apparently had noticed Gerard in the store before that day and had wanted to see them again. Frank, with the stupidly adorable grin and big puppy dog eyes, wanted Gerard to have his phone number. Frank wanted to see Gerard again. Fuck a phone call - just then, Gerard thought he would’ve done damn near anything to get Frank back into the store, to feel the warmth of Frank’s smile directed at him again.
Then, doubt started to flash across Gerard’s mind. Surely Frank was expecting a call from the shop phone, right? Certainly not from Gerard’s personal cell. That would be weird, right? Their mind was spinning, considering too many unknowns. When Frank said call me, had he meant it as in call me anytime? No, Gerard decided; of course Frank wasn’t asking for random late night calls to shoot the shit about nothing, cupping the phone to one ear while Gerard told him all about their day. He was only expecting Gerard to call him when the Thursday records were back in stock. Purely professional, strictly transactional. Surely nothing more than that.
Gerard was spared from their continued downward spiral when Mikey returned, a coffee cup in each hand and a pastry bag tucked into the crook of his arm. He was smiling to himself and had an uncharacteristic bounce in his step as he approached Gerard. They reflexively pulled their hand away from the counter, not wanting Mikey to see what was written there and have to endure his questions about it.
“White chocolate mocha for my favorite sibling,” Mikey said as he shoved the cup towards Gerard.
“They should invent a little brother who isn’t annoying,” Gerard rolled his eyes, but he was truly grateful to receive the cup of coffee from Mikey’s outstretched hands. "Now, if you don’t mind, I’m several hours overdue for my break.”
Apparently the third time was the charm, because this time, no one stopped Gerard from slipping out the back door and into the alleyway. Gerard’s hands were shaking a little as he fished the lighter from his pocket and lit the cigarette pursed between his lips. He let his back rest against the brick wall behind him and craned his head to watch as little tendrils of smoke swirled around his head and floated up into the sky.
Another afternoon in a shabby CD store… What a fucking day.