Children scurried around the park, while Frank remained on the swings, holding onto a cigarette and rocking softly. A swirl of smoke surrounded his face, and each time he blew out, he added to the swirl floating around him. A mother glared knives at him, wordlessly scolding the smoker for allegedly corrupting the children. A cold breeze came through, ruffling his unruly hair. Strands that proved he was long overdue for a trim found their way onto his face, grazing it smoothly. He hummed around the paper-like material of the cigarette.

The park was slowly emptying. Mothers pulled their protesting children away, started their cars, left Frank swinging alone in the dark. The but of the cigarette provided an extremely faint light, and he had to resort to the flashlight from his phone.

As Frank pulled it out of his pants, wrestling with the skin-tight fabric which bound it inside his back pocket, he took note of the two notifications barely filling the screen: an email from some company, announcing a job opening (which he disregarded for the time being), and a text from nearly an hour ago. From Gerard.

Forgetting all about the light, Frank moved his fingers at lightning speed to text back. He had texted a few hours ago, asking about the roommate opportunity, and Gerard finally responded. He walked slowly, exchanging texts with the redhead. They mostly consisted of Frank trying to make conversation and Gerard saying only what was necessary to work out the details of the living situation.

~~~

The next day, the sun hit its apex and shone down hard on Frank, who walked a lonely road. Despite its burning temperature, Frank felt a chill. He approached a building, towering at least 15 feet taller than the top of his head, with mudded bright turquoise balconies jutting out, half of the railings lined with flowers or plastic decorations. Glass, shielded on the inside by window panes or curtains, separated brown and red uneven brick.

After marvelling at the tall apartment complex, which was equal parts fancy and dirty, as if they had tried to build it to look nice, but time had ruined that intention, Frank came across a keypad next to the metal door. On it were a series of numbers and names messily written in smudged blue pen ink, next to their respective buttons, the black paint scraped away over the years. His eyes followed his fingers, which grazed over every button, searching.

"M. Way" one said. Close enough?

Buzz. The button stuck, clearly worn-down.

"Yeah?" A raspy tired voice erupted from the keypad not a minute later.

"Uh, it's Frank."

The door buzzed and clicked, signalling that it was unlocked. Frank, unsure, slowly reached out to the bronze handle, turning it and pushing the heavy door open with his whole body. Just as he stepped in, Gerard's voice came through the speaker again: "2b".

There was a welcome mat in front of his door. Frank crooked his head, amused. The halls were lit by lamps; one had gone out just in front of the door next to Gerard's. As Frank looked at the mat, the tips of his sneakers inches forward until they just touched it.

"Frank," Gerard greeted from the now open door, nervously shifting. Behind him, the room seemed to swell with light and life. He stood aside and Frank, who looked everywhere with lips parted, walked in. It was like he had travelled into an alternate universe. Gerard pointed around, saying things like "kitchen" or "bedrooms", giving him a 'tour'.The walls were painted a concrete-like grey, with white trimming where the walls met the wooden floorboards. The kitchen, closest to the door where frank stood, was all white and marble, with a small island, and a small glass table which sat four stood a few feet away. There were a pair of French doors on the far side of the room, past the two couches facing a TV, which gave out to a small balcony with a fern in each corner, and two beige curtains held back to give way to the light which illuminated everything gorgeously. "So?" He exhaled.

"It's great."

They moved to the couches (Gerard sat on the other couch, away from Frank). Frank noticed a few newspapers and magazines and an empty mug on the coffee table.

"Do you smoke?" Gerard asked after a moment of silence.

"Yeah, actually. Oh, is that not okay?"

"Uh, no, it's fine. Just wondering."

"'Kay, mr. Way."

"What?"

"On the button outside it said M. Way, I assumed that meant Mr. Way?"

"It doesn't."

Frank nodded slowly, a bit confused. "Okay... Well, anyways."

"Yeah. So you like the place?"

"Yeah, it's great," Frank responded, looking around again. "You said the rooms are through there? Can I see?"

"Yeah, c'mon." Gerard stood, leading Frank through a small hallway. At the end we're two doors next to each other. On one, there was a rock band poster plastered on the white paint. Gerard opened the other door. It led to an empty room, a window and mirror-closet being the only thing standing out off of the grey walls.

Frank took a deep breath. "Perfect. When can I move in?" A grin spread across his face. Now Gerard was the one taking a deep breath.

September 26, 2019
885 words
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Kinda a short update, sorry lol but it's on purpose so (deal with it losers... jk ily)
I just came back from a concert (I play (first) violin). It was high key great lol, y'all should be proud. Ok gnight y'all <3