[FrankIero] Yesterday [One-Shot]

She’d picked the perfect dress, the perfect spot and the perfect time. To anyone else, it would’ve seemed like this was bare-faced desperation, but to her, it was a routine, something that she did every week, something she’d just done even before he left. But tonight was different, a slight glitch in the routine, just like the very day he’d left.
She sat in the dingy coffee shop, the light bulb in the metal shade above her was glaring, as if trying to say, ‘you again?’. She sipped her coffee slowly, like she was savoring the taste - but she knew full well it was cheap coffee that was probably produced on some industrial state in rural Mexico where the workers were paid incredibly little for too much work. She heard some people outside laugh, and then she heard a familiar voice, and her face lit up.
A gloved hand pushed the door open and someone she knew, who at the same time was someone she didn’t know, walked in, smiling from the pre-made joke. He walked across to the counter like it was something he did every day, but then he averted his eyes across to the lone girl sat at the one occupied table - and who was to blame him for doing that? It was 1 a.m. after all. She raised her head with a meek smile and his eyes met hers, not across a crowded room, but across an empty one filled with poor quality music seeping from a cheap radio and the buzz of fluorescent tube lighting. He gave her a smile, and walked across.
“Hey,” he muttered, his silver lip ring glinting in the light, “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, it has,” she replied, feeling her face turn red, her hand going straight to her hair, “So, how’s it going? You still in the same band I take it?”
Obviously, she told herself. She sees him for the first time in years and still manages to come out with the stupid small-talk they used to share amongst friends at this same coffee shop when they were teenagers.
“Yeah, we’re just starting our tour for the second album, it’s so good to be home though, even just for a few days. How about you, Mel? You still working at that charity store you used to work at?”
She loved how he was totally unfazed by her stupid question.
She hated how he came back with something equally as stupid.
But she laughed it off anyway.
“Um, nah, I’m working at a Wal-Mart. It’s pathetic, I know. But I’m good at all that secretary kind of crap, so I just do it, and it gives me enough for the rent each month so…”
“You always did have to explain yourself.”
He wasn’t sat, more slouched, in the booth seat opposite his old friend, but those eyes of his, as effortlessly uninterested as they looked, still cut through her just like his petty words. She pushed her hair back behind her ear, something she knew she only did when she was nervous, but dammit, she just couldn’t help it!
“It’s good to see you again,” they both muttered at the same time. It seemed so clichéd but only they could’ve done something like that. It seemed so pathetic, but for the two of them, it just fit, like the pieces of some long-forgotten and discarded puzzle.
“Let’s walk,” Frank yawned, “I need some air.”
As she stood up, his eyebrows raised at her slightly formal attire, and then a smile spread across his face, and she knew that he’d now got her completely figured out - just like old times.
The air outside was cold and refreshing, like that bottle of lemonade they’d shared outside the 7-Eleven that summer afternoon, and damn, why did he make her feel so sentimental like that? They walked, silently to Branch Brook Park, where they’d hung out in the spring surrounded by the cherry blossoms. She sighed as they sat on a bench, their bench, and why was he making this so intentionally difficult for her?
“Frank…I…I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tears forming in her eyes, “I’ve missed you a lot.”
“I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed home. It was really weird for me too, you know, leaving. I mean sure I had a few gigs that weren’t so close-by in Pencey Prep, but…no, touring in My Chem has been weird. Like, we’ve even been to Europe. You always wanted to go to London, right?”
“Yeah…you always said we’d take a trip across there some day.”
“I did?” he asked, and looking into her eyes he knew the answer was there in black and white and a color he just couldn’t quite make out in the darkness, “Shit, I did, didn’t I? Sorry…”
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, her voice now harsh and bitter, “I never really expected us to do it. I mean after all, we also said that probably only one of us would be able to follow our dreams.”
Now she wasn’t making things much easier for Frank. He sighed and looked at his cellphone. The light from the screen dimly illuminated his face, outlining his features.
“I gotta go…” he said quietly, as if regretting having to say it, “Bob’s gonna lock the door on the bus in fifteen minutes and I have to…”
“Oh…okay.”
They both stood up, and hugged for what seemed like the longest five minutes in their life, or maybe it was the second longest - after all, when he left the first time, it hurt twice as much. She’d learnt to deal with him not being around, and he’d learnt to forget his past as much as he could without making himself feel so cold that he couldn’t sleep at night, because he was genuinely worried about what people thought about him. Not necessarily his fans, but the people that were close and that hopefully always would be.
Melanie leant in to his face, as if she was about to kiss him, but he turned his head away and stared across the Second River, feeling her move away from him slowly.
“I can’t,” he sighed, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay…I understand.”
“Listen, I have something to tell you, and I should’ve said it earlier.”
He took hold of her hand, looking into her tired, inquisitive eyes.
“I’m getting married to Jamia.”
“What? I thought you guys fell out?”
“Well, we did, but we both knew we were being kinda pathetic and…”
“So…I’ve been waiting in vain then?”
“Come on, Mel. You knew I was never gonna be your knight in shining armor.”
“You told me there’d always be hope…”
“And there still is! Listen to me. There will be someone there for you. And I’ll always be your friend, it’s just I can’t be anything more anymore…I love her. You know I always have…and I…Mel, I‘ve gotta go now, but you have my number…you can always call me. Honest.”
“Frank…”
“See ya!” he shouted back, his walking pace turning into a jog turning into a run.
Running from his memories.
Running from his past.
Running from her.