Our Foundations from Decay

Frank POV

A/n: if you read the Gerard pov prior to this one being released, there were minor issues/plot holes so this chapter might not make sense unless you go back and read the Gerard chapter. But if you just read the Gerard pov, then you should be fine. That's all!

The night of getting kicked out, 11:45 PM

I should have been carrying a lot more, yet all I owned was one broken phone with stolen money in its case, and the pajamas I was currently wearing. Climbing the creaky steps, I feared what I would find in the room above. Rats? No, Gerard didn't seem the unsanitary type. Perhaps a room full of pricey instruments, leaving me to watch my back in fear of shattering their precious musical ribs? Unlikely, he doesn't seem well-off. Maybe Gerard was more freaky than he let on, hiding sick torture items in the depths of his studio. No, I mentally slapped myself, He's doing me a favour for gods sake! I've gotta stop being weird.

My worries were forced to be quelled as I stepped towards the studio door, fumbling with the keys in my hands, the ones given to me by Mr. Way.

The tiring walk in the suffocating darkness exhausted poor Kristy, so seeing the warm lights spilling out of the Way family's admittedly mediocre home made her fall asleep in their basement room quickly.

I remembered the father being handsome. He looked quite similar to Gerard, his nose and lips reminiscent of those made by a sculptor, yet he lacked the natural flair that Gerard possessed.

I wish I got to see him at the house, I guess he must of been in his room.

Shoving the key into the hole, I twisted it with more nervous force than necessary, my hands shaking in anticipation. After hearing a small click I pulled on the handle, nearly jumping at the creaking noise it let out. At least Kristy was in their house, safe from the dimly lit halls of this uncanny complex.

I poked my head inside, immediately met by the warmth flowing out of the room. Herds of dust became angry at my disruption, and I watched as it flew into the air, creating mirages in the already hallucinogenic studio.

"Wow." I said aloud, my eyes widening. The room was nothing short of beautiful, a creative paradise catered to Gerard, and only him. Drawings were stuck to every surface possible, all hanging off the walls in seemingly no coherent order. Unfinished paintings lined the floor with pale canvases splashed in colours of joy and light, slowly devolving into dark and morbid depictions of strange horrors and brutal mutations.

My eyes couldn't leave the artworks, drawn to their depth and shadow. "He's good." My hand trailed his desk, imagining how long he'd spent sitting there, thinking up new concepts and designs, just like the fantastical characters created in ink that carpeted the room. Gerard was messy, yet it all seemed nothing short of bewitching to me.

Realising that I shouldn't snoop in a studio that wasn't my own, I poked around for any signs of a place to crash. I locked eyes on the grey couch parallel to his desk. I didn't even bother grabbing a blanket as I threw myself on the hole-riddled sofa, feeling myself already sweat from the heated room. I unbuttoned my shirt before closing my eyes, drifting into a deep and unbothered slumber.

I twitched as the morning sun radiated through the curtains, its blinding hands poking and probing at my half awake form. I blearily opened my eyes, rubbing my hand over my face and through my fussed-up hair. Nearly jumping at the sight of an unfamiliar room, I had to remind myself of my circumstances. Right. Gerard's studio. I haven't been kidnapped, calm down.