He felt dumb and miserable by the time he met Mikey's band off-stage.

It was a bit of a mess, the whole thing just reminded him of how he wasn't on good terms with Niel anymore, and maybe he was terrified of Niel not forgiving him. It haunted during the entire set, but he was trying to distract himself with the music and stupid conversations and-

Said conversation stopped to a screeching halt when Mikey's bandmates welcomed someone on the other side of the room.

It was Niel.

And Frank had no fucking clue why Neil was there, the tour hadn't ended yet. But he glided - better yet, stumbled over his own legs in shakiness - over to him before he could even think up an apology, so all that came out of his mouth was, "I fucked up."

It seemed to catch Niel's attention, who seemed as surprised by Frank's presence as Frank was by his. He just waved at the drummer and took a sideways step to get further away from Frank, Frank was driving him away, Frank had been constantly driving him away for the past three years-

He blurted out, "I'm sorry. And I'm not asking, shit Niel, I just need you to know you- I know you were right."

Niel looked down as he scrambled for a drink. He was still trying to keep a calm face, obviously, he always did. He was one of the most emotionally hyper-aware people in the whole of Jersey, much to Frank's current frustration. He said, "It doesn't- Frank, that's great, but it doesn't fix everything. Not like you might think it does-"

"I don't. But just hear me out, because I can't deal with knowing I've fucked us up forever, without at least trying to do this on good terms," Frank caught Niel off before he could speak again. "You gave me the best damn terms I could've asked for, but please just humour me."

Neil eventually nodded, slowly, adjusting his shirt and jeans and straightening his back.

"You were right. I, I was being self-centered. I guess I'd gotten so attached to the band that it was part of me - I still am, honestly. But it's because I cared. I cared so fucking much that it scares me,” Frank confessed, looking directly at Niel and trying not to fidget with his sleeve.

Neil had given him this time to talk, and he was spewing out things he'd never even considered before that very second, but that he needed to say regardless. He was just an ant, held under a microscope long enough for its insides to start spilling out.

Frank said, “Proving myself right was like- I was scared of people disappointing me, so I couldn't disappoint myself, y'know? And, and I never tried to push you away Neil, I care so fucking much. I'm always scared you'll stop caring. I'm always scared you'll let me down. So I'm sorry if I did it for you, I just never saw it as an option.”

"And, uh, If I know I hate something I can just put it in some part of my brain and pretend there's nothing more to it, y'know? I'm a Coca Cola and Mentos of wasted potential so, there's that...” he concluded, catching himself off guard, giving one more vomit of words before his inevitable death to the fires.

"Is this really what you were grasping at? Coca Cola and Mentos,” Neil joked, although he'd been silent in place for the whole of Frank's speech. His face wasn't quite as tense as it's been a minute prior, like he'd consciously tried to relax his forehead.

"Shut up, you know what I mean,” Frank blabbered, hiding his face behind his arm as he ran a hand through his hair.

"You mean that you're scared and you're sorry and I'm right?” Neil said, halfway to baffled. “Didn't think I'd live to see this day.”

Frank rolled his eyes, casually adjusting his shirt to wipe the sweat that had gathered on his back.

His heart was exploding. Or breaking. It was definitely doing something, loud enough for Frank to hear through all of the noise in and out of his body.

“I'll- I guess I'm still pissed, but I'll think about it. Maybe don't try to get to close to me for the next week though. It was just... A hard decision to make. Kicking you out of the band, giving up on this thing we've had for years, but I just felt like it had to be done, like I have to do this for myself,” Neil said, crossing his arms. “I kinda have to see where that choice takes me. But thanks, I guess I lit a fire under your ass, huh?”

“You don't even know. And, wait, before I go — and I totally will — why are you here?” Frank asked, to Neil's raised eyebrow. Fuck, he was shooting himself in the foot. “Not that you can't be here, I mean-”

Neil rubbed the back of his neck. “It, uh- kinda fell apart without you. You may have been a dick about it but you were right when you said we didn't care much anymore. Laura covered your ass for a night but that was about it.”

“Oh,” Frank said, imagining Laura singing his songs. She definitely kicked ass, it's what Frank hoped would've happened at least once. And yet he was jealous of her. Like she got to read to the end of a paper before Frank and snatched it out of his fingers.

Eh, she still kicked ass. Frank would be over it in a week, he'd probably just call her up to infodump about how horrible Glenn Danzig's new covers album was.

“Yeah, oh. Guess I'll... talk to you, sometime,” Neil said, shuffling back up to the bar, as Frank waved and scrambled out of the room.

There he sat on the thin metal ramp outside the bar, tapping his feet to feel the weight of their echo. He got a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, barely getting it to his mouth when Mikey showed up behind him, sitting on the hollow handrail and making it shiver.

Frank used the cigarette as more of a breathing exercise than anything. It was one of the few things that calmed his breathing some days, which was why he'd ever started. He wasn't a chain smoker by any means, a pack could last him more than a week, but it wasn't the healthiest habit either. He said, "I'm gonna die. We're all dying, the world has ended.”

"Yes, yes, and not yet." Mikey said helpfully, counting the responses on his fingers before going back to typing on his phone.

“Uh- wait, I don't know if you know what happened between me and Gerard last night,” Frank admitted, unsure of the tone their conversation would have.

Mikey said, in an almost bitter tone, foreign to his tongue, "He definitely thinks of you as something special.”

Frank wasn't- that. He was a shitty twenty three year old who ate milk and cereal out of wine glasses. He took another drag, long and even as he could make it.

“He waited for you all night, asshole,” Mikey said, lightly kicking Frank's head with the front of his shoe. “Could've gotten in trouble too since the house is going back on sale.”

Frank choked. Oh, so he knew more than Frank did. He rambled, “I, uh, slept at my mom's. And I'm sorry about what I, uh, what I did last night.”

Frank had gone through a moral revelation and the floodgates have been opened, so he was saying sorry to fucking everyone now, except for the one person he most needed to in that moment. He waited for him all night, what the fuck.

Who leaves the person they're in love with crying on a restaurant's bathroom floor right after confessing said love?

An idiot. That's who.

Mikey sighed. "It's fine, but only if you make it up to him. Otherwise I will actually haunt you down and kill you. Which, just so we're clear, I should've done the moment you drunk dialed him and scared him shitless about how he didn't love you back or some-fucking-thing like that.”

Frank mouthed another ‘sorry’, hating himself more and more as the conversation dragged on, but Mikey waved his hand.

“The thing is, Gee has a habit of- well, self-sabotage. It's pretty sad to watch, getting all annoying and needy and jealous when he's not like that just to drive people away. He doesn't think he's good enough or some bullshit like that,” Mikey explained, crossing his ankles around the handrail bars.

"I don't know who gave him the idea but it's- it was hard to get used to when we were growing up. Seeing him transform completely around our friends until he got them to quit."

Gerard had said he never considered Mikey's friends his own. Frank didn't say anything about that.

Instead he kept his mouth shut and listened closely, like Mikey's words were sand slipping out of his fingers. Like a secret he was never supposed to hear. Frank said earnestly. "He never did that with me."

Mikey pursed his lips. "He really cares about you. Enough to catch himself doing it and try to stop - same reason he doesn't do it around me either, I'm guessing.”

Frank looked down, slouching his shoulders.

"He was here, by the way, he left after seeing you. He texted me about it too, the bar was bad enough and he'd had a long day, I don't blame him,” Mikey said.

Frank opened his mouth, but by then Mikey had taken his left hand back out of his pocket, with that giant black X scribbled on the back. "They know. They won't sell to us. Gerard drew it-"

"With drugstore eyeliner," Frank supplied, giving Mikey a side hug. "I really care about him too. I'm gonna fix this, man. I promise."

“I'm trusting you here, don't screw him up more, alright? Remember, death and all,” Mikey said, looking at Frank sternly before returning the side hug.

Frank nodded, and his eyes gazed softly at the overgrown back alley, as the last few days soaked into him.

He was defined by others. Frank was defined by his family, and his friends, and the church he used to attend, and the band he pla- used to play in.

And maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe seeing yourself reflected in others, maybe there was a charm to that.

Maybe that's how Gerard got sober. Maybe that's how Frank stayed alive.

He couldn't help but see himself reflected in others so much that he'd change his entire life over just to avoid their projections.

Maybe it was time he grew up.

He looked at Mikey and asked, “Not to be blunt, but could you give a ride to your parents' place for the whole fixing things... thing? Like, right fucking now?”