When Youngblood opened his eyes, he saw that he hadn't gone anywhere at all. He was still in New Jersey, a few blocks away from the album release party. Something must have gone wrong, but surely, Figment would have some answers. "Hey Figment?" he said, but his future self was gone. Youngblood looked around, wondering where he was supposed to go from here.

No, not Youngblood. Here, he was all alone. Here, he was just Gerard.

There were a few lingering visions, but they weren't quite visions. They were too real for that: they felt more like memories than visions. There was a luxurious mansion, a city street, a car with a spider painted on the hood, a drawing of Frank, but they were all disappearing fast. Gerard tried to hold onto them, but it was like waking up from a dream. The visions faded, and soon, they were gone.

Gerard searched for Figment, but there was nobody else around. As he realized just how alone he was, he collapsed onto a bench and sighed. Just as he was starting to get some answers, his future self had vanished once again. This had been a waste of time. He could have been drawing comics in the basement, writing some new songs, or drowning his sorrows at the album release party.

He got up and started walking back toward the house where the party was. He wasn't sure if that was really where he wanted to be, but at the very least, he could get his car and drive home. Between kissing Frank on the balcony and running into the mysterious man again, a lot had happened that night, and he needed some time to process it all.

As he headed back to the party, Gerard thought about what his future self had said about Frank. Figment said that he would die in 2016, and Gerard had no idea whether or not they would be able to save him. He suspected that it wouldn't work, that they would fail somehow, that Frank would die anyways. It hurt him to think about, but he was afraid that he was right.

Then again, none of that changed how he felt about him. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Frank's beautiful face, he heard crashing guitar chords accompanying his voice, he tasted his kiss on his lips. Knowing that Frank would die didn't change any of that. Gerard was afraid of Frank rejecting him, afraid of his band falling apart, afraid of anyone else finding out just how obsessed he was with his rhythm guitarist, but he wasn't afraid of death. Besides, maybe his future self was right. Maybe they would manage to save Frank somehow. Maybe he had nothing to worry about.

Gerard returned to the party, but he couldn't find Frank. He looked everywhere, from the bar to the backyard to the table where they were passing out copies of I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love. He even climbed upstairs and checked the balcony, but he wasn't there either. Gerard leaned against the railing, but somehow, the view didn't seem so picturesque without Frank.

Eventually, he gave up and looked for his brother, who was much easier to find. He was on the first floor, drunkenly chatting with a blonde-haired woman in her twenties.

"Hey Mikey, it's getting late," Gerard interrupted. "We should probably leave."

"Fuck off, Gerard," Mikey said. "You're just mad that Frank left."

He wasn't wrong, but Gerard wasn't about to admit that. "No, I'm just tired, and I want to go home," he said.

"Then leave me alone," Mikey said.

"Fine," Gerard said. "You're not going to have a ride home, but I guess that's your problem."

He stormed off, got into his car, and started driving home. As he drove, he put on a Black Flag album, but it reminded him a little bit too much of Frank. He still wasn't quite sure what he was going to do about his tattooed guitarist. He wished that he had asked his future self about that while he was still here. Maybe he could have given him some helpful advice, something to ease the butterflies in his stomach.

As soon as Gerard got home, he called his grandmother. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he needed to talk to her. Of course, she wasn't awake at this time of night, but he left a voicemail just to say hello. Then, he put down the phone and lay in bed for a while, visions of Frank dancing through his head. As he thought about the way Frank had kissed him, the electricity that had flowed between them, he felt like his heart might explode at any second, but eventually, his drowsiness overtook him. His heartbeat slowed, and he fell into a dark, dreamless sleep.

The days drifted by, and Gerard and Frank hardly spoke. Whenever they had band practice together, they played through the setlist without acknowledging that anything had happened between them. Gerard still spent his time dreaming of Frank, staring at him during rehearsals, drawing pictures of him in his sketchbook, but he was afraid that Frank didn't feel the same way about him. After every rehearsal, he promised himself that he'd talk to Frank next time, but he never did. Sometimes, he worried that they'd ruined a beautiful friendship. Sometimes, he worried that they were drifting apart.

Less than a week after the release of I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, My Chemical Romance played a show in their hometown. Gerard didn't expect much - they were a small, obscure band that had just released their debut album - so he was shocked when he saw the number of people lining up to enter the venue. He panicked as he helped his bandmates set up their equipment. He was sure that he wouldn't be able to do this, that he wouldn't be able to play for so many people. Even when he stepped onstage, he was sure that something would go horribly wrong.

When he heard the sound of Frank's guitar, something changed. He felt calm, prepared, happy. He looked over at Frank, and when Frank winked at him, he smiled. They hadn't said a word, but somehow, he felt connected to him again. His worries floated away as he opened his mouth and began to sing.

They blasted through the set with more energy and enthusiasm than ever. Gerard was on fire, singing and screaming like he had nothing left to lose. Every time the roar of the crowd became too much for him, he looked back at Frank, and he felt like everything was going to be okay. Just knowing that Frank was there, alive and onstage with him, was enough.

When the show was over, after Ray, Mikey, and Matt had left, Gerard found Frank packing up his guitar. He took a deep breath, and he hoped that this would work, that he wasn't making another grave mistake. "We need to talk," he said to Frank.

Frank finished putting his guitar away and turned around to face Gerard. "About the other night?" he said.

"Yeah," Gerard said.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about that," Frank said. "I shouldn't have..."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Gerard said. "I meant what I said that night. I like you a lot, and I have for a long time." Frank smiled, and Gerard continued on. "And I was wondering...I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee with me sometime?"

"Are you asking me out, Gee?"

"Yeah...yeah, I guess I am," Gerard said nervously.

"Yes!" Frank exclaimed, without thinking. When he saw the expression on Gerard's face, both surprised and overjoyed, he added, "I mean, you're my best friend, you're the lead singer of my favorite band, you're probably the hottest guy on the planet, and you're just an all-around amazing person. Did you really think I was going to say no?"

"I don't know," Gerard said. "I was just kind of worried..."

"There's no need to be," Frank interrupted. "You mean so much to me, Gerard, more than words could ever say. I can't wait to go out for coffee with you."

In the days leading up to his first date with Frank, Gerard was in a state of bliss. He spent all of his time thinking about him, wondering how he could make this experience special. Then again, spending time with Frank was special enough as it was. Frank was one of the few people in the world who truly understood him, who shared his love for art and music, who supported him unconditionally. As Gerard prepared for the date, he stopped worrying about what Figment had said about Frank dying in a car crash in 2016. He had plenty of time to fix that. For now, he wanted to focus on happier things.

The day finally came, and Gerard picked Frank up at his house. As Frank climbed into the passenger seat, Gerard admired just how gorgeous he was. He couldn't believe his luck. He couldn't believe that he was really going on a date with someone like Frank Iero. He worked up the nerve to say hello, and soon, Gerard and Frank launched into a long conversation about the band, about dogs, about superheroes, about Gerard's undying love for Starbucks, about music, about life. They drove around the coffee shop a hundred times, too busy chatting and singing along to the radio to stop the car. Gerard never wanted this to end, this warm feeling in his heart he got whenever he was with Frank.

Eventually, Gerard parked the car, and the two of them climbed out. As they headed into the coffee shop, Frank said, "I know this date's not over, but I think it's the best one I've ever been on."

"Me too," Gerard said. All of a sudden, Frank held onto his hand, his tattooed fingers interlaced with Gerard's. Gerard looked over at Frank and smiled.

When Frank took his hand, he felt like he would never be afraid again.