Each Day that week was exactly the same; go to school, stay with my 'friends', try to avoid any sort of communication with Gerard, try not to think about how my relationship with Gerard was completely destroyed, try not to bring any attention to the fact that I yearned for Gerard's acceptance...You get the idea. 'Try' being the operative word here: each and every attempt was thwarted by said boy, who never ever left my mind.

It rained on Friday as I walked home, and by the time I reached my house I was soaked through. My mother called out to me as I let myself in, and she sounded happier than usual.

"Hello Frankie Dear!"

"Uh...Hey Mom." I replied, slightly reserved. Entering the kitchen, my nostrils were ambushed by the overpowering smell of home cooking. My mum never cooked!

"Oh look at you! You look like a drowned rat! Here, have a cake I've baked, and get yourself out of those wet clothes!" She handed me a cupcake and fussed around, removing my coat and shoulder bag then placing them on the nearby radiator.

"How come you're in such a good mood?" I enquired as I took a bite of the cupcake. It was spongy and surprisingly tasty.

"Oh nothing much Love" She beamed. "It's just; your father got some news today at work. We're going to be staying here for the foreseeable future. We may not have to move for the next four years!" My face lit up at her news, and I looked even more ecstatic than her.
Which was saying something!
"Mum, that's brilliant news! Wow! Man, this is so awesome." Grinning, all the excited words fell out of my mouth. I pulled my mother in for a brief hug, then began to run up the stairs "Mum, I'm er...Meeting some friends at the arcade tonight. I need to go and get ready. Love You!" she just shook her head as she watched me ascend the staircase, muttering something about my 'ever-changing moods.' Pfft!

...

The feeling of "everything's going to turn out awesome! My life is going to be perfect! I'm so ridiculously happy!" had washed away as soon as I had reached the youth club doors. It had been replaced by dread. And not the 'I'm kind of worried about what's going to happen when I walk in here' type of dread. The sort of dread I was experiencing was closer to 'Ohfuckshitcrapadhfkjhgfd my stomach feels like every butterfly on the face of the earth has somehow managed to fit in there and fly around violently why can't the ground just swallow me whole and never ever return me to the surface of the planet ever again.'...Yeah. Not the best.

Pull yourself together Frank!

I entered the room and my sight instantly fell to Gerard. He was stood abnormally close to Lindsey, the rather 'forward' girl from last week.

Wow. That IS close. They probably hugged and then Gerard probably realised that he like-likes her while they were hugging and they're probably already really good friends probably something more I mean that's hardly surprising I mean they're both attractive well obviously Gerard more so because I'm gay and he's just Gerard, I mean LOOK at him-

Holy crap Frank. Shut up. Just go over.

I followed my own advice and made my way towards them both. Slowly. Left. Right. Left. Right. But I still felt my feet shake with nerves as I neared the two of them.

As soon as I reached close proximity, Gerard practically jumped away from Lindsey. I think he noticed how close he was. Because they were really, really close.

"Oooh..." Lindsey gawped as if she had just realised something important. Then she broke into a smug smirk, and looked at the both of us as if she was remembering some sort of private joke. "Oh-ho! I am not being the awkward third wheel in this dramatic reunion of star-crossed love birds." She raised her hands in mock innocence as she backed away towards Kitty and Patrick, pretending she was a rather sophisticated girl who had no time for our petty arguments.

Lindsey was good at diffusing situations. Maybe I should convince her to follow me around so she can get me out of any sticky predicaments I find myself in.

Gerard opened his mouth to speak, and threw the words out way too quickly.
"Uh Frank. My Frankie, um, Please, um-"

Woah...I'm his, even though I was a complete and utter shitbag to him? That prompted me to interrupt him with my own, very necessary, apology.

"Gerard, Look, I was in the wrong. I was wrong for choosing those idiots over you and-"

He cut in "I was in the wrong for making you choose! And-"

"Gerard, Let me speak."

"Let me apolo-"

I grabbed his hands in an attempt to shut him up, and it sure as hell worked. I think I might have killed him by fright. He looked from our hands to my face and wore the same expression a deer in the headlights of a van might wear. I hope I wasn't too forward there. Probably was. Oh no. Oh well.

"Gerard, look here, dickhead. You did absolutely nothing wrong, I promise you. I-" I emphasized the pronoun. "Was in the wrong. I thought those guys were my friends. Of course, I mean, some of them I still like, but no, I was definitely wrong to choose anyone over you."

His cheeks flash red, and he looks away from me, to the floor. I hope I didn't make him cry. Jesus Frank, you try to apologize to and you him them cry. Well fucking done.

"And..." I continued, because there was something I was still in shock about.

His head snapped up and his deer-like expression returned.

Oh god, NOW I've made him cry.

I swallowed quickly before continuing.

"Before..."

I felt his hands clam up and become tenser.

"Uh," I began sheepishly. "Did you call me 'Your Frankie'?"

He giggled coyly, unsure of what to say. I just giggled back, because that response alone was a strong enough answer. I didn't need anything else. So I decided to thank him. For forgiving me when he really didn't have to, and probably shouldn't have.

I removed my hands from his and he looked down at them, trying to hide his obvious disappointment. Seizing my chance, I lifted myself to my tip-toes and pressed a small kiss to his right cheek. I felt his skin prickle with heat under my lips as he let another blush wash over his face. His breath hitched in slight shock at the situation, which I can hardly admit surprised me.

As I pulled away he stared at me intensely. I stared back and smirked suggestively before I allowed myself to get lost in his mesmerizing hazel orbs. In the background, I heard fangirlish giggles much like my own, but Gerard's eyes are much too distracting.

"So, uh, um," He began, "I like your shoes." His compliment temporarily pulled me back into the real world, and I chuckled as I rolled back onto my heel in order to display the whole shoe design. Misfits Converse. My favourite shoes. Cost me quite a bit, my own money saved for months- not that you could tell, I've worn them into a state of almost disrepair now. I looked back into his eyes once I regained a normal stance. "You hadn't even seen them" I smiled. Then I just returned to his eyes.

You see, Gerard's eyes are a whole other plane of existence. Their deep hazel is alluring enough from a distance, but it's when you get close that they become exquisite.

Some people's eyes are devoid of all emotion. The only inkling of feeling they convey is the action of crying, the show of uncontrollable emotion. Other than that, they are lifeless.

Not Gerard's. Gerard's eyes show even the tiniest hints of every single thing he feels. The way they sparkle when he smiles, or how they practically burn with fire when he's angry or annoyed. When he's nervous they dart around erratically and when he's scared or shocked the whites of them are so dazzlingly, well, white, you feel you should look away. But you can't, because they're so gripping. His eyes are the window to his soul and all his emotions. They're Amazing.

"They're beautiful"

Gerard voiced my last thought, and I frowned. How did he know what I was thinking? Wait, did he somehow know I'm talking, no, creating an internal monologue about his eyes? But then our previous conversation comes flooding back to me and I realise he's talking about my shoes.

Yeah, they're nice. But I've found something, someone, much much better than a pair of old converse.

...

'Time for circle time guys!" Shouted Brendon. I realised I hadn't been acquainted with Brendon today. To be honest, I hadn't even heard his sing-song voice...probably because of Gerard's eyes.

"Now!" He clasped his hands together. "This weeks topic is-The perfect relationship." I subconsciously glanced over at Gerard. He looked scared. I wanted to ruffle my hand through his hair, place a re-assuring hand upon his and calm his nerves. But of course, I didn't, as much as our new 'fans' would have liked it.

"Gerard, you go first." He offered politely. Gerard's expression changed from one of scared-ness to one of determination. I hope and wished that I would be able to pick out aspects of myself in his upcoming description. So I counted. I counted how many things may have related to me.

"I think...well, I want a relationship with...with someone who I understand. Not someone who I know everything about-"Can I count that? He doesn't know everything about me. I suppose it'll pass. Okay, one "-but someone who intrigues me. Inspires me. Uh, reads comics with me. I want him-uh, or her-" That's two. He almost forgot to mention the female race. Definitely two. "-enjoy being with me as much as I enjoy being with them. Uh, yeah. They have to have passion. Passion for something. Guitar." Three "-Or..Uh, anything. I just want to-"
He paused for a breath, then looked at me. I acted pre-occupied, indifferent. But inside I was swelling, blushing with pride. It sounds stupid, but I was.

"I want to enjoy walks on the beach. Paint with him, -uh, or her." Four. "-and dance, even though I can't, with uh, the person, sing and play music and share long heartfelt embraces with-"

"Thank you, Gerard." Brendon interrupted. "Rather extensively detailed, but lovely nonetheless." Right then I wanted to throw something at Brendon's head. Gerard was pouring his heart and soul into talking, successfully engaging an audience with his speech, and all Brendon can say is 'too detailed'? Pfft.

But not even that could have dampened my mood. I felt Gerard's eyes watching me and I began to blush. I was so happy, so honoured, to be admired by this boy and he deserved to see my appreciation.

"Frank, your turn. Go for it." Brendon mentioned towards me.

I hoped it wasn't too sappy. I hoped Gerard didn't think I was some sort of pansy after what I was about to say.

"I want this guy to be..." No 'him, or her or him' problem for me. "I want him to be great. But he doesn't have to be cool. Uncool is great too. Uncool is greater than cool. Anyway, I want him to see me. Not just the small, passive-aggressive kid who plays guitar, but the me under all the dark clothing and good music...um...and I want him to just...be proud of me, and himself, and I don't want another shitty relationship with someone who's ashamed of who they are. And I want to just have fun. And have...Love. I want love. I want to be loved, to be in love..." I trailed off. As much as I had tried to keep my voice level stable during the past couple sentences, I knew the pleading had hinted. I could just tell my voice had practically been drenched in desperation. I hoped Gerard didn't think I was some weird bunny-boiler now.

Brendon thanked me and moved onto the next person's description, but I became distracted by Gerard's mouth really close to my ear, whispering. Probably too intimate for public.

"That was sweet man, it really was."

The pride began to swell again. So he wasn't put off by my hopeless desperation. That was always good.

"Your description sounded familiar." I retorted cheekily. "I mean that guy-or girl" I winked. "Must be real lucky. And real flattered."

"Uh, yeah. I hope that he-or she" He raised his eyebrow and giggled at his remark. "will uh, act on their flattery."

"If you're lucky." I flash him a grin as the session ends and I return my chair to its original position.

I was just about to leave when I heard a slightly frantic "Frank! Frank!" from behind me.

Slowly, I turned round. "Yes Gerard?" I asked, rather innocently.

"Uh, I was just wondering, do you have a cell phone?" He stuttered nervously.

"...Yes...I do." I pulled out an old Nokia from the pocket of my jeans. 'Smartphones' don't interest me. "Do you have a cell phone, Gerard?" I smirked playfully.

"I, well, yes, uh, I was thinking can we swap numbers? uh, if you don't mind, I mean-" I took his phone that he had just pulled out of his jacket from hands. It's not as old as mine, but it's nothing special. I keyed respective numbers into respective phones, set my caller name as 'Frankie xo' then handed the cell phone back.

"Thanks!" He beamed, almost fangirling. I chuckled lightly at his enthusiasm, then heard the distinctive noise of a cell phone taking a picture. I looked to Gerard and saw him holding a phone in my face. He retracted his arm very quickly, then turned the phone around. "Uh. Caller ID. Not that I'd have any trouble remembering your face or recognising you, uh, it's just everyone in my phone has a caller ID and it would look stupid if one person didn't."

The picture isn't that bad. It's me, laughing, with my face scrunched up a bit but I'm smiling. So I guess its okay. there's been better, but there's been much, much worse!

"You're weird. I like it." Is my parting comment to Gerard. I exchanged smiles with him once more, then made my way home. Gerard is slightly strange. But I like it a lot. I like him a lot. He's not everyone's definition of 'Normal' or 'Ordinary'.

But he's certainly my definition of 'Perfect.'

...