The conference room is bright, windows surrounding them as the midday sun bursts through. About twelve of them sit around an oval-shaped table, taking turns to promote and discuss new ideas for the latest 'life-changing' scheme. To Frank it's all bullshit. Nothing that any of these guys were saying would help someone.

"Mr Iero, are you ready to speak?" Frank nods, forcing a smile out to his boss before standing and spreading his research sheets out. This was it. Time to let the shit hit the fan.

"When I um. When I first started here, I thought that this place was what it said on the leaflet," He can feel all eyes on him, one pair in particular. He doesn't meet them. He had to let out what he'd been feeling for the past two years of working here, tell the boss what was on his mind. "But after two.. unpleasent, let's say, years, I realise that this place is just one big pile of metal and lies."

"Mr Iero-" His boss starts, but Frank cuts him off.

"I can assure you, Sir, this won't take much longer." He smiles carelessly. His stuff is already packed and gone, he knows he isn't keeping his job. "This place is shit, full of soul-sucking crappy jobs that no-one really likes, the floor managers are assholes, and you, Sir," He points to his boss. "Are a prick. Enjoy the rest of your lives in a dead-end job," He flips them off as he leaves, making a quick exit onto the street.

The feeling was incredible, the weight had been thrown off his shoulders. He can't help but smile triumphantly, contentedness consuming him.

"Hey, Frank!" He jumps at the sound of his name, turning to see one of the men from the meeting. The one that'd been watching him, and also creating quite a fantasy in Frank's mind.

"Um. Hi?"

"Oh, fuck, er, shit. I'm um, I'm Gerard," Gerard smiles at him, flashing his short, weird, teeth.

"Right, yeah, Gerard. I'm Frank, as you - and everyone else - now knows." Frank says it plainly, not even bothered. Gerard sort of smirks at him, though it's more the corners of his lips twitching a little. "I probably looked liked a spoilt brat in there, right?"

Gerard shrugs. "I thought it was pretty hot." Frank raises an eyebrow at him and Gerard grins.

"Seriously?"

"Serously." He confirms. "You know, well actually you probably don't, but I've been watching you at your desk for weeks, and I would really like to kiss you right now."

Frank stares, because woah, you're just a little forward. But it's not like he was complaining, right?

"Um." Frank swallows, because they're kind of awkwardly standing in the middle of the street, which is busy, practically strangers whilst one of them talks about how much they want to kiss the other. "I, uh, I have to go."

"Oh, well um." Gerard frowns, looking at his feet. He'd fucked this up majorly. He doesn't know what made him think that Frank a let's get to it kind of guy.

Frank watches him, studying his whole being. How his hair looked neat from a distance, but was actually so fucking messy up close. How he was so pale, and yet it was completely natural. How his nose turned up just a little at the end, how his eyes were hazel, but with flecks of other colours in them. He's pretty fucking hot. He feels sorry for the guy.

"Wait, er, if you'd like I could give you my number?" Gerard's face fucking lights up like a Christmas tree, and he nods, smiling. Gerard gives Frank his number and Frank quickly scribbles something down on a scrap of paper before handing it to him, and just before they part, Frank kisses Gerard's cheek, faint and barely existant, but close enough. Gerard keeps smiling, watching Frank as he crosses the street and hails a taxi. He looks down at the paper.

Frank Iero. Find me in the phone book. You better call, pretty boy. xo

He grins, holding down a squeal.