Luckily, Gerard was not awake and so I managed to slip out of my bed and change my clothes, stowing my soiled pyjamas in the bottom of my wardrobe. I sighed with relief when I realised that Monday was the day where we changed our bed sheets. Suddenly, I felt a wave of embarrassment crash over me – I'd had a wet dream about Gerard and just the day previous I had been saying how you can't like someone after 'one day.' I had never fallen so headlong into liking someone before and, to be honest, it was pretty scary. It was even worse that I had to live with Gerard for an indefinite amount of time. I spread my quilt over my bed again and lay on top of it, suddenly becoming cold due to the crisp, cool side of the bed sheets, pushing all thoughts of Gerard to the back of my mind.

.

The minute Gerard woke up I began tearing the sheets off my bed.

"It's washing day," I said brightly, smiling broadly at Gerard who just grimaced.

"Ok," he grunted, rubbing his eyes vigorously. He made another indistinguishable sound before collapsing back on the bed.

"Is your mum coming today with the posters?" Gerard visibly perked up a little.

"Yes! I can't wait. Have you got any visitors today?"

"I don't think so. My mum is only coming for the ward rounds, but she has to go straight back to work after," I said, stuffing all of my dirty clothes into my pillow case. Gerard looked at me sympathetically. "But it's okay. I hope that Alex has fun today."

"Oh, I forgot that she's on leave today! It's going to be a good thing for her, I think. Hopefully it will speed up her recovery… I know it cheers me up when I get to see my family."

.

After breakfast, Gerard and I headed for the school room. My school had sent me multiple essays to complete, but I was grateful for the work as it acted as a distraction from my life in the hospital. The hospital was a very mundane place with barely any mental stimulation, despite all of the bright coloured murals and poster. I got stuck into the English essay and once I had finished, I began to read the book that they had sent. It was an interesting book, but a little bit predictable – I could see how it would end from the first chapter.

"What are you doing?" I asked Gerard, looking over at his work space.

"Art work," he mumbled, not lifting his eyes from the paper.

"Do you want me to shut up so you can concentrate?" He nodded and I turned back to my book, scanning the pages quickly but taking in most of the information.

.

Eventually, Mrs Taylor announced that it was time for our break, and then we would have our ward rounds. The lounge was quiet without Alex, and Gerard wasn't talking to me properly.

"Are you okay?" He nodded. "Are you sure? You don't seem too good…"

"I'm just getting myself in the zone to tell them how I 'feel' and then give them a load of bullshit about wanting to get better. Molly said that they're already happy with me because I've been good as gold and I've gone to people when I've felt 'upset'… hopefully I can try and get my discharge pushed forward to next week."

"I thought you were sectioned?" I asked, confused as to how he would get out so soon.

"Yes – why?"

"Well I thought that you had to stay in for twenty eight days minimum…"

"That's how long I'm meant to be in here for, but hopefully I can get taken off my section if I recover enough. I'm hoping to be out before next Sunday." My heart plummeted. I would be so upset if Gerard left before me, especially now that we had started getting close.

"Oh," I said softly. "Ok."

.

I was called into the meeting room before Gerard, who wished me good luck and watched me walk away. The room was full of people, and it was quite unnerving. My mum, Molly, Chloe and Simon were seated in the room, accompanied by an unfamiliar face… and then I saw the one person I did not want to be in there.

Doctor Fucking Jones.

"Good morning, Frank," Molly said, motioning me to take a seat. I glared at Doctor Jones before sitting in the nearest chair I could find.

"Hello, Frank. You may recognise me from being on the ward a few times, but I'll introduce myself anyway – I'm Doctor Cooper, the main doctor here at Orchard House." He seemed like a friendly enough man, so I allowed him to carry on talking. "How were your first few days here?"

"Alright," I said, folding my arms across my chest.

"Well we'll be able to talk about that in a short while. In these sessions, Frank, we talk about any changes you would like to make to your care, what happened in the week previous and what is going to happen in the forthcoming week. So first, Molly is going to read out the records from this week." I shifted in my seat a little.

.

"Frank's behaviour has been typically good since he got here. We've had barely any problems with him, and he seems to be getting on with the other patients very well too. He has made a very strong bond to one of our female patients, and is also connecting well with his roommate Gerard. His eating has been normal, although we were assured that it wasn't a problem, and he is taking well to out therapy stations. However, there was one thing that happened this week that we need to talk about, but I would like to let Simon present this issue, if that's okay with you, Frank?" I froze – I was unsure of how my mother would react to what had happened. Eventually I managed to nod stiffly.

"Well," Simon said, clearing his throat. "An issue arose in the relaxation therapy room that resulted in Frank lashing out quite violently." A look of shock appeared on mum's face. "He managed to scare another patient and injure Molly, which resulted in him being placed in the Low Stimulus Unit."

"Do you know what caused him to have this breakdown?" My mum said. I closed my eyes and tried to tune out Simon's voice when he next spoke.

"He found out that the artist who painted the walls in the relaxation therapy room was his father, and he reacted badly to finding out some of the things that his father had said about him. I was obviously oblivious to the relationship, and if we had known we wouldn't have subjected Frank to that emotional situation." I opened my eyes and saw that my mum was looking at me sympathetically.

"Now, Frank," Chloe started, clicking her pen into action. "How do you think you have been after that incident?"

.

I began to panic, not knowing what to say. Finally, I recalled upon the information that Gerard had given me and put it into practice.

"Well, it was hard to hear the information… but I felt a lot better after having talked to Chloe and having been in the LSU. Afterwards, I have felt moments of slight stress, but it's nothing I can't handle." Chloe smiled and wrote a little more. "I find this to be a very calm environment."

"Good," Chloe purred, looking at me and smiling. "We were telling your mother and Doctor Jones about how well you had settled in here. We're all very happy with how you handled the transition."

"Thank you."

"Is there anything else you would like to add?" Doctor Cooper asked. I shook my head. "Good. How do you feel about the support that you are receiving here, Frank?"

"It's good," I answered, shortly.

"You don't just have to say that to save our feelings, Frank," Doctor Cooper said, letting out a low chuckle. Are you sure you're happy with it?"

"I mean it – I've very happy with it."

"Good. How about the therapies? Do you feel that they are helping?"

"I liked the relaxation therapy, but I doubt that I will be able to go in there again… it's a bit too much for me."

"That's fine, Frank. Hopefully this week you will have the chance to try out art therapy. Also, maybe your problems with the relaxation therapy room could be something you can talk about in your one to one sessions with Chloe." I nodded even though I had no intention of doing so.

.

The discussion continued for another 5 minutes, and it was decided that medication would not be necessary and that I would be having a day of leave on the Thursday. I got to spend 5 minutes with my mum, who promised to bring grandma to see me as soon as she could get some time off work.

"How did it go?" Gerard asked when I returned to the lounge.

"Really well, actually." I replied. "I have some leave on Thursday, so I can bring some of my posters back with me."

"That reminds me – my mum brought the posters and I put them in our room. I have to go in for my discussion in a minute, so do you want to start putting them up?"

"Sure!" I replied with gusto. "How many are there and where should I put them?" Gerard laughed.

"There's fucking loads, Frank. There's enough to cover one of the shorter walls. I don't think my mum sorted through them though, so you'll probably have to take some out that swear – they'll probably make room for your posters."

"Awesome! Well… good luck?" I said, leaning forward a little to hug him but then realising I shouldn't.

"Later?" Gerard asked, sensing my disappointment. I nodded and smiled before heading towards out room.

.

Gerard's poster collection was quite extensive; there were bands such as Iron Maiden, Black Flag and The Misfits, as well as some obscure bands that I had never heard of. I sang as I absentmindedly stuck the posters to the wall like a jigsaw puzzle. I removed a lot of posters with 'fuck' and 'shit' written on them, but there were still enough posters to fill three quarters of the wall. I was just coming to the end of Number Of The Beast when Chloe walked in.

"You sing very well, Frank," she said, making me jump.

"Thanks," I muttered, flushing red.

"I'm just here to do your observation. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Seriously. I'm just a little tired."

"Ok, well someone will be back in fifteen minutes and then it will be almost time for lunch. See you later."

"See you," I replied, turning back to the wall and sticking the last poster up. I stood back and admired my work.

"It's pretty," a voice whispered in my ear. I jumped a foot in the air and swung around to be face to face with Gerard.

"You scared the shit out of me," I exclaimed, pushing his chest so he stumbled back a little, smiling at me.

.

"How was it?" I asked.

"Really fucking good," he responded, smirking. "They bought everything that I told them. They're thinking about putting me on medication, but I won't take it – I'll just hide it or something. But it should help me to get out early if they think that it's working for me." It saddened me that Gerard had to pretend to be better. If he concentrated half as much on a real recovery as he did on acting, he could probably get better very quickly.

"I hope you get better." Gerard didn't reply. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my head into his chest. He rubbed my back comfortingly a little.

"I miss contact," he mumbled into my hair.

"Me too…"

"At least we can do this when nobody is around. It kind of solves the problem."

"We could really do anything when we're not being observed," I whispered. Gerard didn't reply so I assumed he didn't hear me.

"Like what?" he eventually asked. I could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"Like what happened the other night. But this time I won't freak out." Gerard hummed softly and tilted my head up to look into his eyes, rubbing his thumb over my cheek. He kissed my forehead and I furrowed my brow, a little disappointed.

"I don't think we should risk it," he breathed, breath hot on my face.

"I like risks… it's what makes life fun. Feel my heart, Gerard." I placed his hand on my chest. "That fluttering is a reaction to taking a risk. It makes me feel alive and it fills me with hope for the future."

"Well in that case… if it's going to help…" Gerard trailed off and tentatively touched my nose with his own. I reached up and kissed him, savouring every second that our lips were together.

"Yeah…" I said, letting out a shuddery breath. "I miss contact."