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Gerard slumped against the cubicle door with his heart hammering in his throat. Sweat beaded his hairline and he was breathing heavily. He tried to get himself under control but it was hard when all his lungs wanted was huge gasps of air.
The cubicle stank of stale beer and stale piss. The cocktail made him heave and he turned towards the toilet bowl in time to relieve his stomach of the cheap burger he'd eaten earlier. Tears ran down his face and he didn't dare open his eyes in case he saw the disgusting state of the toilet and had to puke over again.
He reached blindly for the toilet paper and pressed a wad against his mouth, breathing through the tissue as if it could calm his roiling stomach. It didn't help.
Gerard wobbled to his feet, flushed the toilet and stumbled towards the sink. The mirror was grotty but his face was probably worse. He struggled to focus on the pale oval as the floor lurched under his feet. His date night makeup was running down his face and he dabbed at his cheeks absently with his sleeves.
Noise and music from the bar over the ringing in his ears. People were shouting and singing along. A sharp laugh punctuated the humid air like a gunshot. The bathroom door creaked open and the volume increased.
"Gerry?"
That was the name on his online dating profile. The man calling him from the doorway didn't look like his profile picture either—more beard scruff and less blonde hair.
He sauntered over and leaned on the sink, standing too close for Gerard's liking.
"You feeling okay? I thought maybe you'd ditched me."
"Wayne...sorry…uh, no I feel really dizzy."
He was slurring his words.
"Listen, I'm gonna call a cab. Sorry. I'll pay you back for the drinks."
Wayne smiled and it made Gerard's stomach lurch.
"Come back to my place."
"Sorry, I feel really bad."
"I can make you feel better. Besides, you have to make up for the drinks."
"I told you I'll pay–"
Gerard fumbled his wallet out of his pocket but as he went to grab a note a condom fell out instead. If wonder boy had more hair and less beard maybe he would have got lucky after all.
Gerard saw the look Wayne gave him and it made his blood run cold. It was like being a little fish in a huge shark tank and his knees suddenly buckled. Large hands grabbed his biceps tightly.
"Whoa there doll, you look ready to faint. Let's go back to my place so you can lie down."
Gerard protested as he was frog marched out of the bathroom into the crowded bar. People pushed up against him in a haze of colour and scratchy fabric. The music had finished and been replaced with applause and cheering. The din made Gerard's head ring but he had to make one last desperate attempt to get away.
The musicians were swapping out on stage. Gerard almost fell over as the crowd surged and pulled him temporarily from his date's tight grasp. He saw the bar a few rows away and staggered towards it.
"Hey! Get back here!"
Gerard ignored him and pressed forwards. Someone's foot caught his ankle and he toppled forward, forehead in line with the edge of the bar.
Somebody caught him around the shoulders and scooped him up before he could smack his head. He leaned on the bar and squinted up at the vague person beside him who was talking animatedly.
"Hey man, fancy seeing you here. What a coincidence huh? What's it been, three months?"
"Who's you?" Gerard managed.
A leather jacketed arm slung itself over his back and patted his shoulder.
"What's that, a ride home? Sure thing can do, let's leave. Now."
The stranger put one of Gerard's arms over his shoulders and tried to steer him round the edge of the bar. Gerard wasn't even sure his feet were still listening to him and when had it suddenly got so hot in here?
"I don't wanna…"
"Couple more steps buddy. I've got you."
The smell of the man's leather jacket cut through some of the nausea. He shouldered his way through a swing door into a dark corridor crammed with metal kegs of beer, then a fire escape into a parking lot. The cold air crushed his lungs and his feet caught every pothole between the pub and a nondescript silver car.
Then he forgot what was happening and the night fell into a blur of leather jackets, rushing wind in his hair and hopeless nausea.
He wasn't sure where his dreams ended and the real world began. He was standing in a desert with the sun beaming down on him…
White bed sheets fell from the sky and smothered him, he fought them and emerged from the chrysalis in a dark room…
A spider crawled up the wall and twisted its head around, smiling at him with his own face…
His stomach cramped and somebody shoved a plastic tub into his hands for him to be sick into while they scraped back his hair…
A drum played a steady marching beat as he stumbled through the darkness of his dreams…
Gerard wished he hadn't woken up as soon as he opened his eyes. All of his body stung and his head was pounding. Was he hungover that badly? Where had he even been last night?
He groaned and sent his hand questing across the pillow. It was fuzzy and a little bit…crunchy? He peeled one eye open and focused on the details of the pillow under his cheek. The pillow was covered by a towel, and the towel certainly wasn't one of his. Neither was the bed he was laying in nor the room the bed was in.
Gerard tried to sit up but a wad of pillow shoved against his back stopped him, and the act of trying made his head spin. He tried again more slowly this time and managed to prop himself up against the headboard.
He was still in his clothes although his boots were missing. The bed was empty apart from him on one side and a huge wall of pillows on the other. It was on one wall of a small studio apartment. There was a sofa in the middle of the room facing a TV, and on the sofa there was a man watching him.
The man gave him a smile. "Hi there. Are you feeling okay?"
"Uh…" His throat burned. "What– Where am I?"
"My apartment. You're safe here "
The man got up and went into a small alcove which contained his tiny kitchen. He filled a glass with water and brought a box of pills over to Gerard.
"Take some painkillers."
Gerard popped them out greedily and gulped half a glass of water. The man watched him carefully then took the glass and retreated back to the sofa.
"You got roofied," he explained. "I thought your boyfriend might cause trouble so I kinda panicked and snuck you out with me. The internet said you should probably see a doctor but they're expensive so I kept an eye on you, made sure you didn't choke to death."
Gerard rubbed his scalp where his headache was worse and touched a hairband. He looked up at the man questioningly.
"Uh, you kept throwing up so I had to put your hair up. There's still some on your clothes though."
Gerard looked down and saw his t-shirt was indeed covered in speckles of vomit. He quickly looked away.
"I, uh, I don't have a boyfriend. What was your name again?"
"I'm Frank. You don't have to tell me yours."
"Gerard. Where was I last night?"
"Pub called the Little Pint. It looked like you were on a date?"
Gerard rubbed his head and groaned. "Was I?"
Frank pulled a face. "Sorry Gerard, but I think your date roofied you."
"I don't…remember anything."
Frank nodded understandingly. "I know, it's rough. Don't push it or you'll make your headache worse."
Gerard looked around the flat slowly and then back at Frank. Frank was waiting patiently with a soft smile…he was kind of cute.
Gerard must look like trash.
He curled into a ball and pulled at his hair. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I'm a stranger and I've messed up your bed and ruined your flat and–"
"I'm going to stop you there, Gerard." Frank still hadn't moved from the sofa but he held up a hand. "None of this is your fault. You didn't drug yourself and you didn't barge your way into my flat. I gave up my bed because it was the right thing to do to make sure you were safe. Everybody's got to look out for each other."
Gerard uncurled his fingers from his hair.
"Listen you can use my shower if you want and I can give you a spare set of clothes if you want me to wash yours or just shove them in a bag for you?"
Gerard nodded slowly. "Yes please, a shower sounds good."
Frank grinned. "Great. Are you alright to stand up and walk to the bathroom, do you think?"
"Yeah, I think so."
Frank busied himself pulling clothes from a wardrobe while Gerard scooched to the edge of the bed and stood up, clutching the wall for support. Spots twinkled in front of his eyes and he blinked them away before slowly walking along the wall to the bathroom.
By the time he got there Frank had already put a pile of clothes, a folded towel, and even a packaged travel toothbrush in a pile on the counter.
"How about I stand round the corner and you can just dump your dirty clothes outside the door for me to wash. I'll only come out when I hear the shower start up. Use anything you want in the bathroom."
Gerard nodded and waited for Frank to get out of his line of sight before shutting the door and turning to his reflection in the mirror.
He was even worse than he imagined. His makeup had run and smeared, his greasy hair was in two bunchies and his clothes were ruined. Disgusted, Gerard turned his back on the mirror and slowly undressed down to his boxers. He opened the door a crack and peaked through it but saw the empty apartment. He quickly shoved all his clothes outside and locked the door before dropping his boxers and stepping into the shower.
He took a long time scrubbing every inch of his body clean with Frank's shower gel. Something about his easy smile and maybe the way he had kept his distance helped Gerard feel relaxed around him. He shampooed his hair gently, wincing as his headache twinged. The tiny travel toothbrush was the best thing, and he only realised how bad his mouth tasted once he had minty toothpaste to compare it with.
When he stepped out of the shower the man in the mirror looked so much better albeit still pale and shaky.
Frank had managed to find sweatpants and an oversized hoodie to fit him and had put a pair of Christmas print socks on the pile too. No boxers though so Gerard put his own back on.
He stepped out of the bathroom once he was done, still towelling his hair dry. Frank looked up from whatever he was chopping up in the kitchen and gave him a one-over.
"I bet that feels better. Your clothes will be done in a half hour. I plugged your phone in to charge on the computer desk there—is there anyone you can call to come and pick you up?"
Gerard hobbled over to his phone and toyed with it for a moment. "My flatmate should be around today. Or my brother."
"Good. Someone needs to keep an eye on you for the rest of today and make sure you're okay. You should go to the doctor too. At least a free clinic is better than nothing."
"I will do. What's this address?"
Gerard typed the address into a text as Frank told him and sent it to Ray, then followed it up with a call.
"Hey Ray, it's Gerard. Listen, I'm in a bit of trouble…I mean, not right now, I'm okay now, I think but…so I just texted you the address where I am. Can you come and pick me up? Thanks."
Gerard put the phone down and turned back to Frank. "He'll be here in a bit."
"Great. You should eat something light, here. Fruit and yoghurt."
He put a plate of sliced fruit on the coffee table and motioned Gerard to sit on the sofa. Frank himself pulled a stool over and sat opposite him munching on slices of apple.
They sat in silence for a while as Gerard picked at a yoghurt cup and tried to remember what had happened to him last night. Bits of memory cropped up but they were hazy and out of order. He remembered looking at his own face in a dirty mirror, then again in bright light as he carefully put eyeliner on. Then he was stepping out of a taxi and getting a slightly uneasy feeling he couldn't explain.
Gerard looked up from his breakfast and found Frank watching him.
"You've got questions?"
Gerard tried to work out how best to say this. "Listen, I'm super grateful for letting me use your shower and your clothes and your bed and everything. But, who are you?"
"I'm a musician. I play gigs part time to earn some extra money and I was playing at the Little Pint last night while you were having your date. You came in with this guy and he bought you some food and a round of drinks from the bar. You didn't seem that into him but I wasn't really paying attention, and when I looked back over you were gone and he was gunning it for the bathroom. I figured he just really needed a shit or whatever but I saw both of you come back out and you were so far out of it, man. Like, you couldn't possibly have got that drunk and it was pretty obvious he didn't want to let you go. So I shoved through the crowd, grabbed you and took you out the back way to my car and brought you back here. You threw up a couple of times but I didn't want to undress you because you'd wake up in a strange bed without your clothes and…yeah, enough said. I promise I didn't touch you."
Gerard had forgotten to chew the grape he'd just put in his mouth. "I believe you," he said quietly. "I just…what would have happened if you weren't there?"
Frank's face darkened. "You know what would have happened. Try not to think about it."
Gerard felt his eyes pricking with tears and he looked up to try and keep them at bay.
"It can happen to anyone," Frank reassured him quietly. "It wasn't anything you did wrong. It's not your fault, do you hear me?"
The tears were still threatening to fall.
Frank sighed. "It's okay to cry if you need to. You had a scary experience."
"I know, I know. It's–" A tear crawled down his cheeks and his face screwed up as the first sob broke through.
"It's just too much– You know, to even think about– I don't wanna think about any of it– And I can't even remember what happened."
Frank leaned over the table and squeezed one of Gerard's hands.
"It's okay to feel all of that. You're safe here, your friend is on his way to pick you up. Have a bit more fruit if you can and just sit and relax."
Frank stood up to turn on the radio in the kitchen. The quiet music filled the silence nicely but Gerard's hand felt uncomfortably chilly where Frank had let go of it. He clutched his hand to his chest and sniffled quietly as the panic subsided.
A buzzer made him jump and whip his head around.
Frank crossed to the door and held down the intercom. "Door's open."
Gerard wrung his sleeves nervously and Frank waited by the door until somebody knocked.
He opened the door and Ray was standing on the other side. He gave Frank a quick up and down glance then looked over his shoulder at Gerard.
Frank moved aside to let Ray in.
Ray rushed to the sofa and caught Gerard up in a hug as he half-rose from the couch.
"Hey man, you okay? Let me look at you. Are you okay?"
He pulled back and scrutinized Gerard's face.
"Gee, are you okay?" he asked insistently.
"Uh, I dunno. I'm not really sure. I think I fucked up, Ray."
Ray shot a suspicious look at Frank. "Do you want to leave?"
Gerard realized he was clinging too tightly to Ray's shirt and let go.
"Can I just sit for a bit? I don't feel good."
Ray looked worried and helped him back down to the sofa.
"What happened?"
Gerard looked up at Frank beseechingly.
"Your friend was drugged by his date last night," Frank explained. "I brought him back here to sleep it off but he should probably see a doctor today anyway."
Ray gasped and put his arm around Gerard's shoulders. "Oh my God, are you okay? Nothing happened, did it?"
Gerard shook his head and sniffled into his sleeve. "No. Frank saved me."
Frank offered a half smile and a shrug. "I'd hope someone would do the same for me in that situation."
Ray sighed. "Then I guess…thanks for looking out for him. Frank, was it?"
"Yep."
"Frank, I'm going to take Gerard home now."
"Okay. Hang on a sec, I'll get your clothes."
Frank fetched his boots, put his clothes (damp but now clean) in a bag and gave him back his wallet and phone.
He walked them to the front door and opened it onto the corridor. "Take care of yourself, Gerard."
He offered Gerard that smile of his again and Gerard felt his lips twitch in return.
"Yeah, thanks for having my back."
Frank offered his hand to Ray who clasped it firmly.
"Glad to meet you, man. Keep him safe."
"Will do."
Ray kept a hand on Gerard's shoulder as they took the elevator down to the street and got into Ray's car.
Despite wanting to just go home and sleep, Gerard went along with Ray to the nearest clinic where the nurses took some blood and sent him away with instructions to rest. Ray drove him home and hung his clothes on the line to dry while Gerard sat on the edge of his bed watching.
"Get some sleep," Ray instructed, pushing him over and pulling his blankets on top. "I'll be right here so yell if you need me."
"Right, Ray. Thanks."
Ray shut the door behind him and Gerard snuggled further into his pillows. He breathed in the smell of his sheets and the faint scent of whatever laundry detergent Frank used coming off his borrowed hoodie. He felt more comfortable not taking it off.
The stillness in the room was cloying and he became aware of a faint buzzing in his ears. The painkillers were starting to wear off and Gerard tried to fall asleep before anything else could go wrong.
Over the next few days Gerard struggled to concentrate and found himself twitching at everything. He tried to keep his head down and walk fast between work and home, and avoid checking his social media.
Eventually he brought himself to wash the borrowed clothes and fold them neatly. He should probably take them back, to be polite. And maybe Frank would give him that lopsided smile and invite him in. They would sit on the couch, closer this time, and Gerard would tell Frank how much he appreciated him and how every man he passed in the street made his heart thud just in case they tried to hurt him.
He shook his head to clear it and bent to lace his boots. The neat pile of clothes was ready in his backpack.
He took the bus across town to Frank's apartment building and looked up at the endless rows of windows, wondering which one was his. He punched the number into the intercom and swallowed.
Hi Frank, it's Gerard. I just swung by to drop off your clothes…
Hey, it's Gerard from last weekend. I thought you'd want your clothes back…
The intercom continued to buzz monotonously.
I came by to give you back your clothes. It's Gerard, by the way…please let me in…
The intercom rang itself out. Gerard hesitated then turned and walked slowly back to the bus stop. He almost didn't get on the next bus towards the outskirts of town where the Little Pint pub squatted against the taller buildings surrounding it.
The bus left Gerard shivering in a sudden gust of wind and very alone on the pavement. His stomach warned him he didn't want to go in and he clenched his jaw.
This was a stupid idea.
He wished he had Frank's number. He should have left his number in Frank's post box. He wanted to go home.
Gerard pulled his hood up and stepped out into the street. A car horn blared and he looked up in time to get a flash of headlights as the driver screeched to an abrupt stop right before they hit his legs.
Gerard froze in the glare of the lights but his heart was beating in his throat and his knees began to shake. He heard the driver pop their door open and step out.
"Gerard?"
Gerard peeked out from underneath his hood and saw a familiar short frame and messy black hair.
Frank exhaled and gave him a half smile.
"Baby, we've got to stop meeting like this. Are you okay?"
Gerard nodded mutely.
"What are you doing here?" Frank asked, glancing towards the pub.
"Um, I brought the clothes. Your clothes, the ones you lent me. I went by your apartment but you weren't there so I came here just in case you were here and you are. Here, I mean. Hi."
Frank nodded along then jerked his chin towards the passenger side door. "Need a ride?"
Gerard unfroze his legs and tried to walk normally round to Frank's passenger seat. The car smelt of leather and dust, and mostly of Frank whose seat was pushed forward so he could reach the pedals.
Gerard rummaged in his backpack and pulled out the pile of clothes he had brought with him.
"Here. Thanks again."
Their hands brushed as Frank took the pile of clothes with a smile and turned back to put them on the back seat.
"Thanks. How are you doing, by the way? I thought about you."
"I went to the clinic, they said to rest for a few days so I took some time off work."
"That's good. It's good that you're out and about but you didn't have to come back here again."
"I…wanted to make sure the clothes got back to you. I wanted to say thanks again for literally saving my life."
Frank shrugged and waved a hand. "Nah, I mean, it was just the right thing to do, right? Besides fuck that place. I've told them I'll play this weekend then I'm gone."
"You quit your job?"
"Yeah. I've got other venues lined up and I don't wanna work somewhere that can't look after its customers. If I'm playing I want the audience to be able to enjoy themselves."
Gerard wasn't sure how to respond to that so he just nodded.
"Hmm."
Frank pulled his car around and started driving out of the back streets. "So, is there anywhere I can drop you off?"
"How about my place?"
"Sure thing baby."
Frank drove with an easy confidence, one hand on the wheel and the other propped on the car door as he chatted. Most of what he had to say was about guitars but Gerard was transfixed by the way his voice sounded and would have listened to anything. After what seemed like only minutes of Gerard giving directions they pulled up in front of the rundown little flat he rented with Mikey and Ray.
"Well, this is me. I suppose…I might see you around town?"
Frank chewed his lip and looked up at Gerard's flat again. It was the first time he'd seemed anything other than quietly confident in himself.
"Listen, Gerard. Let me know if I've read this all wrong here but I'd like to stay in touch. Can I give you my number?"
Gerard's jaw dropped and it took him a moment to get control of it again. "Yhmm. Mm-hm. Yeah, that sounds good."
Frank laughed and Gerard would have fallen over if he hadn't been sitting down already. He wanted to keep seeing Frank, he wanted to find out everything there was to know about this man and spend so much time with him.
He fumbled his mobile out of his pocket and passed it to Frank. Frank concentrated on typing his number in and handed the phone back with a grin.
"Your last name's Iero?"
"Don't wear it out," he said, finger gunning.
Gerard snorted with laughter and popped the catch on the car door.
"Text me when you want to get coffee," Frank called after him.
"I will do. See you real soon, Frank."
Frank waved out the window as he drove away.
Gerard watched his car vanish around a corner and ran up the stairs clutching his phone giddily. He fumbled his keys into the door, shoved his way inside, kicked off his shoes and all but fell onto his bed.
Grinning, he opened his phone to Frank's contact and hit text.
"Hi Frank, it's Gee. It's been ages...wanna get coffee?"