Chapter Text
Gerard sat at his desk and tapped the end of his pen between his top and bottom teeth. The whir of the motor from the jet wash outside poured in through the open window; the sound relaxing almost. He couldn't concentrate on his work, so he simply lay his head back against the plush backrest of his office chair and closed his eyes. The sweet smell of jasmine along with the white noise of the pressure hose had him almost drifting off to sleep. He jolted up and forced his eyes back to his screen, taking in the distinct lack of words he had managed to produce over the course of the afternoon. Glancing down at his notepad, he sighed at the absence of notes written there also.
"Fuck it" he murmured to himself as he left his office.
He headed to the kitchen and poured himself yet another coffee. Again, he pondered the idea of taking one outside to the handyman, but he just couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead, he headed back to his office and stood by the window. He smiled as he watched the worker sing along to whatever music was coming through his headphones as he blasted the already-clean paving stones that bordered the pool. The pool that had never been used. Not once!
He envied the man outside. He seemed so at ease all of the time. Never seemed like he had a care in the world. Gerard knew he was more privileged than most, but he never felt carefree. He felt like a prisoner in his own home. Too afraid to venture into the outside world for fear of........ well, he didn't know what the 'fear' was. He had just become more and more reclusive over the years – his vast home being his fortress almost. He did occasionally have his family around, but that had become increasingly infrequent over the years. It was just him and his writing. His writing that he usually loved and that had provided him with such a lavish home and belongings. But lately, he had begun to think that there must be more. He would walk around his home simply for the sake of it. In reality, he slept in his bedroom, washed in the bathroom, cooked and ate in the kitchen and worked and watched TV in his lounge/office. Yet, there were six further bedrooms, three bathrooms and numerous other rooms (without any clear function), along with the vast grounds and outbuildings, and of course the unused pool and hot tub. He'd simply bought it because he could.
He glanced over at his array of awards and did feel proud. But it was literally all he had. Murder-Mystery after Murder-Mystery.
He decided to call it a day; writers block setting in once again, and simply switched on the TV to flick through endless channels. After a while he realised the yard was quiet and as he looked to the window, noticed the day was drawing to a close once again. His phone buzzed into life and he smiled as he picked it up.
"Hi Frank" he answered.
"Hey Mr Way" came an out of breath reply. "I'm all done here for the day. Unless there's anything else you need?"
"No. All good thanks Frank" Gerard smiled.
"OK. Well I'm back Wednesday. Gonna make a start on tidying up those borders then."
"Great. See you then" Gerard said, although he knew Frank wouldn't be actually seeing him at all. Just Gerard spying once again on his cute handyman.
He again stood at the window and watched as Frank pulled on his hoodie and headed over to his beat-up old truck. He felt gloomy as he watched him drive away, but looked forward to Wednesday when he would return.
Frank smiled sadly as he looked through his rear-view mirror as the gates of the mansion closed behind him. It was such a beautiful home; his favourite of the three he worked at. But it had a certain sadness to it. Soulless almost. Mr Way was always pleasant on the phone, but Frank wished he would come down to say hi every now and then. He had been told about his solitary ways when the agency called and said he'd been accepted for the job, but he still would have liked to meet him face to face at some point. He had, however, spotted a figure by the window occasionally over the three months he had been working here, but couldn't make out anything other than a shadowy character looking out. He waved once and noticed Mr Way recoil in horror at being 'spotted' in his own home. He was clearly a bit of a weirdo, but Frank wouldn't care about that. He just felt bad that the guy never seemed to have any company.
He drove along the highway with the window rolled down and sang along to the radio. Pulling into his driveway, he sighed at the thought of what to have for dinner. He would have loved a takeout, but couldn't afford it, so resigned himself to another meal for one out of the freezer. He threw it in the microwave as he went to shower, before sitting in front of the TV poking around at his unappetising macaroni as he did most nights. He knew he should call his mom, having promised to do so yet still not getting around to it.
"Hey mom!" he smiled down the phone as Linda answered.
"Oh hi honey" she replied, clearly pleased to hear her son's voice. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Yeah. All fine here. How about you?"
"Oh well, I did have some gossip to tell you about Maria - you know from across the street?"
Honestly, Frank didn't really know who Maria was, but listened all the same as his mom rambled on and on about something completely trivial concerning Maria's husband and an argument he'd had with a work colleague. It was not of any interest whatsoever to Frank (or indeed anyone else on the planet), but he added a 'yeah' or 'oh really' here and there to feign interest.
"So, tell me!" she now continued, having wrapped up the 'drama' from his old neighbourhood, "Why are you in on a Friday night?"
"Oh, you know. Just had a long week so just relaxing at home."
"Well you're never going to meet anyone if you don't get out there honey" she began.
Frank mentally prepared himself for the lecture he was about to receive - once again - about his love life. Or lack of it.
"I'm fine ma" Frank tried. "Don't you be worrying about me!"
"Well of course I worry Frank" she sighed. "You're almost thirty sweetheart. Don't you think it would be nice to be settled down by now?"
Frank let out a long breath as he listened to his mom.
"I'm fine" he said a little curtly. "And like you keep reminding me, I am almost thirty. So that means I'm old enough to manage my own life. I'm a big boy mom. I'm fine."
"Well I just think it's about time. I hate to think of you being alone."
"I know" Frank replied with a softer tone.
He knew she meant well, but he just didn't need reminding constantly that he was a sad loser with no-one. Yes he had a wide circle of friends, who were like family to him, but he didn't have anyone to come home to. And he hadn't had that in many years.
He made up some excuse about having another call coming through, before saying goodbye and hanging up.
He sat back and looked around his small home. It was his home and he loved it, even though it was tiny and in need of various repairs. He kept it clean and tidy and it was his own little place that he had worked hard to buy. But it was always quiet and still and at times felt like it had no soul. Just like Mr Way's house. He thought about Mr Way now as he sat in his own home, imagining how empty his home must feel. Just one man rattling around in that huge home. He knew he wasn't married, and in the three months that Frank had been working there, he had never seen a soul go in or out (apart from other household staff). Frank was curious about him. He didn't even know how old he was. He knew he was an author, which somewhat impressed Frank, being a lover of literature himself, but he knew he wrote under a pseudonym, so still couldn't find out anything about him. He felt sorry for him, although he had no idea why. He was obviously filthy rich (not that Frank resented anyone for being successful), but that didn't mean he was happy did it?
Frank shook his head. Who was he to be feeling sorry for someone for being lonely? He was sat alone on a Friday night, with a shitty mac'n'cheese and watching re-runs of The Office. He jolted awake some hours later and found the clock reading 3.30am. Dragging himself of to his bed, he pulled the comforter over him and fell into a relaxed slumber.
Gerard looked at his watch and rubbed his eyes. 3.30am! Fuck he needed to sleep. He headed off to bed and lay there looking up at the ceiling. His thoughts turned to his handyman with whom he was becoming increasingly interested. He was everything that Gerard found attractive in a man - from his short stature to his vast array of tattoos. He just had a friendly aura about him, which Gerard found intriguing. He hadn't, for a long, long time, felt a desire to interact with someone on a personal level, but he did of late. Frank had lit a spark within him, and the idea of speaking to him both excited and terrified him. He longed to break his solitary habits and have people in his life, but he found it so difficult. Maybe one day he would pluck up the courage to circulate among the real fucking world again.
In the meantime, he knew he would continue to 'observe' Frank from the confines of his home.