"Tuesday," Jill announced. "One of my other acts canceled, so you're on at seven thirty. You can show up before that - the day before if you want - but don't be late."
It was Sunday, three days after Gerard and Frank had taken their trip to Manhattan, and the collective members of My Chemical Romance found themselves back at the club with no name. Jill had finally broken down and given them a gig which was probably a result of Gerard's insistent and charismatic pleading. It was apparent that she was highly susceptible to Gerard's charm, and for that fact, the band was very grateful
Frank had to manage some of his own charm to get his uncle to give him Tuesday night off. Uncle Henry was supportive of Frank's efforts to pursue music but only as long as he deemed his nephew entirely dedicated. If Frank showed one sign that this gig was not part of a tireless effort to establish a career for himself, Uncle Henry would declare that if he felt that indifferent, he may as well spend the night working the job he already had. This was a reasoning that Frank's cousin Mary assured him was applied to her just a rigidly when she had begun missing work to attend college. Mary was a very opinionated girl, so Frank had heard her speak extensively on every topic, talking to Uncle Henry included. Though he didn't agree with her on many things, her advice on how he could make his case was invaluable; Uncle Henry consented to letting Frank out of work early on Tuesday.
Having gained permission to perform, there was only one thing left for Frank to do.
Worry.
Anxiety pricked at him every so often throughout Sunday and Monday. By Monday night, he was a ball of panic and stress, but that only made him more eager than ever to just get on the stage.
Gerard also lay awake Monday night, but for different reasons. He and Frank hadn't spent time alone together since Thursday, not that Gerard knew what he would do in that situation anyway. Frank clearly didn't remember saying anything out of the ordinary; all he had said about the night was a casual comment on Gerard's ridiculously high alcohol tolerance when Mikey found his fridge empty. Regardless of whether Frank remembered saying anything, though, didn't it still mean something that he had said it at all? However drunk he was, he had looked so sincere when he declared his former crush. Gerard rolled over in bed and tried to push the thoughts aside until the gig was over. He could figure everything out later.
The night of the show, the band met outside the club at six. They carried their gear in by way of the back entrance in the alley and began setup. The club's interior was small and dark; the stage was tiny. Four feet off the ground, the band would just fit, and they were well in range of the audience's hands. A loft with a bar hovered above the standing room and gave space for another fifty people. Coming off the stage was an unlit corridor leading to a cubicle of a dressing room that went unused by most of the band, as they were fine with wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and minimal effort. Gerard, however, did take advantage of the facility. He was wearing his usual black leather jacket paired with some equally black jeans. The dressing room was declared his, and no one argued it.
Frank passed the remaining minutes to show time flexing his fingers and trying not to panic. For a while he stared at the wall with the unfinished black paint that faced him, but its blankness was little comfort. Flicking his eyes to the side, he saw Ray sitting against the wall with Jenny farther down the corridor. The positions of their bodies suggested that they were slumped, but Frank could tell that Ray was rigid. It looked like Frank wasn't the only one experiencing some nerves; at least Ray seemed to be enjoying some company. Gerard spent some time behind the dressing room door, and though Frank wasn't sure what else he could possibly do to his appearance, he could admit that Gerard somehow came out looking even better. Out of the dressing room strutted a man with perfect confidence, determination, and tousled black hair. This was a man who was ready to perform.
Nerves were reaching a boiling point as the band moved onto the stage, and relief washed over everyone when they began their first song. Soon they all were moving and were at home with their instruments as if they were just playing for the hell of it. When Frank wasn't head banging, his eyes were on Gerard. As a front man, he noticed, Gerard was sort of brilliant. He started out stiff like everyone else, but by the second song, he was moving freely with a dramatic flair and working the crowd like a pro. Even for the rest of the band on stage with him, it was intensely entertaining.
"Welcome," Gerard announced to the crowd, "to this lovely establishment. I hope you're enjoying yourselves because we're going to be playing a few more songs, and you should feel them with everything in your little black hearts. Let's go!" A shout came from the shadowy corners of the club. The pure electricity that ricocheted through the blackened room carried them through to the end of the show in unbelievable speed.
They walked off the stage feeling as if their feet never touched the ground. It really had gone quickly, in the blink of an eye, but it had happened. That thought was just registering in Gerard's mind when Frank joined him in the dressing room.
"Holy shit!" Frank exclaimed.
"Holy shit," Gerard reciprocated.
"This has got to be the best feeling ever. I want to run down the street or something, scream off a rooftop that I'm living, you know?"
"It feels like you've done something right."
Frank's face dropped suddenly. "Imagine being able to show this night to everyone who ever put you down, anyone who ever made you feel like you were nothing. Because even if you wake up tomorrow and you're nothing again, this was something. This feeling."
"I've told you before," Gerard assured him, taking on the serious tone and finding more strength with each word, "that no matter what anyone says, don't take their fucking bullshit. 'Cause your better than them, faster than them, and God damn it, you're much better looking!"
Gerard was practically shouting by the last phrase, but the speech was only enough to make Frank crack a weak smile that was honestly more of a grimace. All euphoria from the performance was waning, and Gerard was willing to do anything to make Frank believe the words he had just been told and turn back into the invincible person who had entered the room. Emotions were running high in a million directions, and he made snap decision. Gerard leaned forward, closing the space between them, and pressed his lips against Frank's. The contact lasted only two seconds, but a lifetime of feeling ran through Gerard. Warmth from Frank's lips shot through his veins and led back to his heart which was beating furiously. Panic, excitement, and release seized Gerard and threw him into a state of extreme alertness that felt sorely the loss of heat when his lips part from Frank's.
There was a pause. Due to the music coursing through the club around them, there was no lack of noise, but for Gerard, the room was dead silent. He cast his eyes downward, cursing himself for making such brash move. As for Frank, he stood before Gerard with his hazel eyes flicking back and forth across the troubled face of the man who had just kissed him, drained of all color. If Gerard had been willing to make eye contact, he would have been awed by how those incredible eyes of Frank's were somehow wider than ever before. Finally, the prolonged silence was ended by Frank rising up on his toes and pushing up Gerard's head with the force of his lips in an act that was not merciful, just right.
Frank's hands cautiously moved past Gerard's sides to the man's face. He ran his thumbs across Gerard's cheekbones, and Gerard pushed back into the kiss. Consent had been given, and it was accepted willingly by both parties who developed a rhythm, pushing into each other's mouths. Gerard's tongue flicked across Frank's lips, and Frank readily parted them. Their tongues moved with overwhelming curiosity, exploring each other's mouths, and with this new distraction, they didn't notice the rest of their bodies moving closer until they felt the burning heat of being chest to chest. Gerard could feel Frank's heart pounding into his; he hesitantly placed his hands on the center of Frank's back to pull him even closer.
Then Mikey banged on the door.
"We're heading out to get some food!" Mikey shouted. "Hurry up!"
Gerard and Frank jumped apart, but their intertwined state didn't allow them to get far. Eyes now opened, they froze, breathing into each other's mouths. Neither was certain of the correct next move, but they soon stepped away and collected themselves to the point at which they felt they could walk back outside. No words were said, but before Frank opened the door, he burst into the coy smirk he often wore, and Gerard smiled in a daze of ecstasy as he watched exit the room the guitarist with the rare beauty whom he had just kissed.