Gerard strolled down the street towards the train station in the best of moods. He never thought someone would actually like his pieces. It was an amazing feeling. He was on a natural high. Everything looked so beautiful to him, for once. The leaves changing colors and the way the wind swirled the fallen ones around; it was all magical to Gerard. He had never noticed the beauty of it all.

As he walked down the subway station stairs, Gerard couldn’t help but smile. Finally, something in his life was going well. He couldn’t wait to go home and call his brother to tell him about his day. The train was arriving just as Gerard had stepped off the final step.

As he sat on the train for the ride home, he couldn’t help but think about Frank, the man who actually believed in Gerard. Frank was younger than Gerard was, he could tell. Frank didn’t have the wrinkles of sleepless and stressful nights along his eyes. In all honesty, the moment Gerard had barged into the office he had been attracted to Frank.

Frank was beautiful in his own right. He was short, but it suited him well. The khaki slacks he wore clung to his thighs in a most pleasing manner. Every time he walked or moved towards Gerard, the fabric could be seen stretched over Frank’s thighs. It was mesmerizing. Gerard loved the way the white button down hugged his arms. Frank talked with his arms, a typical Italian gesture. Gerard had recognized it from his grandfather. As Frank moved his arms, the fabric on his biceps would pull. It was intoxicating. Frank’s face was beautiful, too. It was symmetrical, and Gerard always noticed the symmetry of a person’s face. His eyes were perfectly spaced, and the slight green hue of them was breathtaking, even in the dull fluorescent lights of the office. His lips accented his face. They were small, yet full. But the feature of Frank’s that Gerard found most attractive was his interest in Gerard’s art. No one believed in him, but Frank did, and that was enough to make Gerard weak in the knees. A little faith was all it took.

Gerard was definitely smitten with his potential boss.

-x-

Frank watched as Gerard walked out of his office, a smile plastered across his face. He loved that he was able to make Gerard happy. The moment he had heard his voice, he knew Gerard was in a lot of pain. All the rejections throughout his life had gotten to him, but Frank was ecstatic to be able to provide some sort of glee into Gerard’s apparently dismal life. Gerard was talented, well spoken (though the Jersey accent would slip out slightly), humble, and attractive. It was a bit superficial, but Frank couldn’t get Gerard’s face out of his mind.

Gerard’s face told of stress. He saw the wrinkles in the creases of Gerard’s eyes. Those eyes spoke volumes. They were clouded in depression, but they still shone greatly, easily capable of captivating anyone staring into them. They had captivated Frank immediately. The moment he looked into Gerard’s olive colored eyes, Frank became lost in the story they told. He saw the wrinkles between Gerard’s brows. He could tell that Gerard had spent countless hours of his day in front of an easel, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration, causing those wrinkles. His face was beautiful. It wasn’t flawless, but Frank thought it was perfect. It told the story of an artist. It told the story of rejection, but most importantly, it told the story of determination. Frank couldn’t get over how this man had been rejected so many times over. Gerard was so talented. He was a genius with a paint brush. His portrayal of life was so vivid and imaginative, but it was still real at the same time. It was intense.

Frank sat in his chair, staring at the three empty easels, wishing that Gerard’s paintings were still there to see. The painting of the broken man was still very lucid in his mind. He could’ve spent hours staring at it. It was so beautiful in its malice. The blood on the man’s face mixed with the different paint color symbolized how an artist worked, pouring their blood into their work. The broken features of the man were the hardships of life as an artist. Frank was fascinated by the image. It was Gerard; he knew it was. He couldn’t fathom how much anguish Gerard had to be in, to create such a piece. He hoped to fix him. Frank wanted to pick up the pieces.

Frank wanted to put Gerard back together.

Thank-you all for reading and embracing this story. Your comments always make my day.

As always, comments and con crit are always appreciated.

-J