I don't own anything.
Frank had being sitting staring at the text message for the last hour, at least.
"[Blank message]" it screamed in dual tones of black and white. Yet, despite the simplicity of the words, the empty box contained an endless labyrinth of possibilities.
Why?
Because the text was from Gerard.
In the six months the band had been on a brake, Frank had only seen Gerard twice in person, and those two times he had remembered in perfect clarity and precision. However, Frank seen Gerard every day in his mind. Gerard meant the world to Frank, yet sometimes he felt like nothing to Gerard.
But this text, it had to mean something, right? Why would anyone send a blank message for no reason? Perhaps he had typed out a long, delicately crafted apology to Frank, declaring his love for him in intricate wording, filled with "you mean the world to me"'s and "Forever and always"'s, but then chickened out at the last minute, deleting the whole message, but accidently sending the blank. Or maybe it was a sign. Some sort of hidden signal for Frank to contact him...
Frank dialed his number, memorized, and waited, his stomach thriving with butterflies as he listened to the dialing tone.
"Huy there, Frankieee!"
His voice bubbled with the plague of alcohol, the phone line overpowered by the screech of music and laughter.
"I got your text", Frank stated.
"Text?"
"Yeah... It was blank..." He chewed on his thumbnail.
"Ohh! I must have sent it by accident", Gerard was interrupted, possibly by someone talking to him, "Listen, I'll see you around, dude".
And then silence. The line buzzed to nothing.
Frank sat the phone on his bed side table and went back to sleep.
