Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 1991
Something jolted me awake. I looked around, disorientated, wondering why I wasn't in a warm comfortable bed--- then remembered that Gerard and I had come out here to look at the sky. And remembered what I'd said out loud... and I'm pretty sure he'd heard me. It was still dark, and I had no cell phone (were those even around in 1991?) or a watch.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I got up, my neck feeling stiff and my head aching a little. Rain was lightly drizzling down. I looked around and spotted Gerard a few feet away, laying on his side with his arms under his head. I slowly stood up and walked next to him, leaning down to shake him awake. I was dreading that he would remember what I said, but dreading that he'd forget the great night we had had.
I shook him harder this time, and he turned over, groaning. "Gerard?" I said, "Wake up. I don't know what time it is, but we should probably go to my house..."
He groaned again, mumbled something, and sat up. I straightened my back and said, "Come on, get up," offering my hand. He looked at it then grabbed for it. I helped him up.
"What time is it?" He grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"I don't know," I repeated, walking the way we'd come in. He was falling behind so I stopped to wait up for him.
Now on the sidewalk, I noticed someone dressed in all black on the other side of the road. He was eyeing us and making me nervous. "Hurry up," I told Gerard, grabbing his hand and leading him like a little kid. My heart was beating quickly as I sped up the pace.
"Slow down," Gerard whined, still a bit drunk.
I turned and hissed, "No, let's go," and continued speed-walking until we got to the front door of my house. When we were inside, I locked the door behind me.
The party had died out. There were some people sleeping in the living room, toppled over eachother, and in the kitchen Jake and Harvey Stone were talking. The whole room wreaked of pot. As I came closer, I realized they were high.
I turned to leave them, looking at the clock above the oven. The time was 3:59 am. I yawned and followed Gerard upstairs to my room.
He was the first in, and didn't turn on the light.
"Be right back," I told him. He mumbled something and stole a blanket from my bed, rolled himself up in it, and layed on the floor. I grabbed a pair of shorts and a tank top and went in the bathroom to change. While in there, I brushed my teeth (morning breath always grosses me out, I always brush my teeth the second I'm awake) and my hair, which was wavey from the rain. Stretching my arms above my head, I shut the light off and went back into my room. Gerard was laying there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. I pushed my blankets up and sat, said, "We can share a bed."
He looked at me in the darkness, his eyes more adjusted than mine (having just come out of the bright bathroom), and he said, "Alright."
I pushed over and, as he was about to get on, I yelled, "You're soaking wet!"
He looked down at his jeans and teeshirt, as if noticing for the first time. "Oh, I guess I am."
I couldn't help but laugh. "I'll get you something from Jakes room. I don't think he'll mind... and if he does, I think he can deal."
When I got up, Gerard thanked me. I walked through the hallway, about to go into Amanda's brother's room for the first time. I went to the last room on the left, since that was the one I always saw Jake go in, and felt the wall for a lightswitch. As I turned it on, I took the room in. It wasn't too messy. There was a double bed, band poster, a bureau... then my eyes landed on the beauty.
Excitedly, I ran toward it, unable to supress my thrilled giggle. It was a sunburst Gibson Les Paul, the one I had been saving up my money for forever to buy. With careful hands, I took it off it's stand and rested it on my lap. Leaving it unplugged, I strummed the strings a few times, then played a couple chords. I was a little rusty from not playing for five days, but it worked.
I played through a couple My Chemical Romance songs, then just messed around and played some random things and parts of songs that I'd never learned the whole way through.
"What are you doing?" said a voice from the doorway. It jumped me out of my dreamland that I slipped into whenever I held a guitar. I didn't have to look to know that it was Gerard.
"Uh, just playing..."
"I thought someone kidnapped you or something," he told me, chuckling and walking toward me. He sat on the floor across from me and said, "What are you playing?"
"Just songs. How long was I gone for, anyway?" I said.
"Like, fifteen minutes atleast," he said, nodding slightly.
"Haha, oh," I said, unable to believe him. I began plucking strings, playing a song that I couldn't remember the name of.
"That's sounds nice," he told me, watching my fingers move on the fretboard.
I gave him a look, "You can hear it?" I asked.
"Sort of," he replied. I grabbed the patchcord off the floor and plugged it into the guitar, turned on the amp, and continued playing the song. I stopped abrubtly near the end, because I had figured out what song it was. I gave a worried look in Gerard's direction but threw it away just as it had come.
"What?" he said.
It was Interlude, on the Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge CD.
"I, um, thought... thought I heard Jake coming. He would probably be mad if he knew I was playing his Les Paul."
"How long have you been playing, anyway? You're really good," Gerard said.
"Like... two and a half years. But don't get me started on guitars because I will never shut up. I think I really need to get Amanda one."
Looking at me with a strange expression, he said, "Huh?"
"Oh, me one... you know what I meant," I told him, letting out a fake laugh.
He smiled, hiding another expression with happiness, but I couldn't decode his face. So maybe he did remember. Why was he acting normal, though?
I shut the amp off, not wanting to play anymore because of the sick feeling that he'd remembered what he'd heard. Putting the guitar back in place, I stood up and looked in the drawers of the bureau to find Gerard a clean (dry) shirt and pants. Picking out a plain white tee and some blue striped flannel pants, I tossed them to him. He looked down at the clothes and frowned.
"Sorry, I know you like them to match," I said, unable to stop myself. I remembered an interview on Steven's Untiled Rock Show when future Gerard said something like, 'I like the top and bottom pajamas. And they have to match, too.'
He laughed a bit, "How'd you know that?"
I just shrugged and walked out of Jake's room, shutting off the light. Gerard quickly followed, and as I flopped in my bed, he went in my bathroom and changed. I pulled the covers over me and curled in a ball, listening to the rustling of his clothes. A smile broke out on my face, because he just made me so damn happy.
The light from under the doorway shut off and the door squeeked open. I watched his shadow come near and felt the bed go down under his weight. I pushed over, giving him room to lay. He made himself comfortable underneath the blanket, his arm brushing me a few times.
As we quietly laid there, a little cramped because of the small size of the bed, I suddenly got butterflies in my stomach. I turned and put my head to Gerard's chest and curled up as close as I could to him. The red analog clock on the bedside table read 4:43. I felt his fingers playing with my hair, curling it. I closed my eyes and yawned.
Us laying there, I thought about what it would be like to never go back to my old life, as Casey Stone, even though it hurt to be away from my family and few friends that I had. It would be so great to grow up and be with Gerard, have a family and kids. I never wanted kids, but with him I wouldn't mind. That's not how his life is supposed to happen in the future, but... maybe changing the future wouldn't be so bad. Or maybe I was just being selfish.
"What are you thinking about?" Gerard whispered tiredly.
I thought for a second, "What kind of guitar I want to get."
He went quietly, finally saying, "I had a weird dream."
"Hm."
"You were crying because you... I don't even remember. Something about like, a girl named Casey? And being scared to be taken away? And you said that you want to stay with me, not go back to... your old life."
"Hm," I didn't know what to say. "That's a weird dream."
"Yeah."
I rolled onto my back and yawned again, pulling the blankets up to my chin.
"You know what's weird?" Gerard whispered.
"What?"
"How fast we became so... close."
"I guess we just have a really good connection," I told him, suddenly drowzy.
"Maybe," he said. I could tell he knew his 'dream' wasn't a dream at all.
But he dropped the subject and started rambling on about something to do with chunky oil pants. I dozed off.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I got up, my neck feeling stiff and my head aching a little. Rain was lightly drizzling down. I looked around and spotted Gerard a few feet away, laying on his side with his arms under his head. I slowly stood up and walked next to him, leaning down to shake him awake. I was dreading that he would remember what I said, but dreading that he'd forget the great night we had had.
I shook him harder this time, and he turned over, groaning. "Gerard?" I said, "Wake up. I don't know what time it is, but we should probably go to my house..."
He groaned again, mumbled something, and sat up. I straightened my back and said, "Come on, get up," offering my hand. He looked at it then grabbed for it. I helped him up.
"What time is it?" He grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"I don't know," I repeated, walking the way we'd come in. He was falling behind so I stopped to wait up for him.
Now on the sidewalk, I noticed someone dressed in all black on the other side of the road. He was eyeing us and making me nervous. "Hurry up," I told Gerard, grabbing his hand and leading him like a little kid. My heart was beating quickly as I sped up the pace.
"Slow down," Gerard whined, still a bit drunk.
I turned and hissed, "No, let's go," and continued speed-walking until we got to the front door of my house. When we were inside, I locked the door behind me.
The party had died out. There were some people sleeping in the living room, toppled over eachother, and in the kitchen Jake and Harvey Stone were talking. The whole room wreaked of pot. As I came closer, I realized they were high.
I turned to leave them, looking at the clock above the oven. The time was 3:59 am. I yawned and followed Gerard upstairs to my room.
He was the first in, and didn't turn on the light.
"Be right back," I told him. He mumbled something and stole a blanket from my bed, rolled himself up in it, and layed on the floor. I grabbed a pair of shorts and a tank top and went in the bathroom to change. While in there, I brushed my teeth (morning breath always grosses me out, I always brush my teeth the second I'm awake) and my hair, which was wavey from the rain. Stretching my arms above my head, I shut the light off and went back into my room. Gerard was laying there, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. I pushed my blankets up and sat, said, "We can share a bed."
He looked at me in the darkness, his eyes more adjusted than mine (having just come out of the bright bathroom), and he said, "Alright."
I pushed over and, as he was about to get on, I yelled, "You're soaking wet!"
He looked down at his jeans and teeshirt, as if noticing for the first time. "Oh, I guess I am."
I couldn't help but laugh. "I'll get you something from Jakes room. I don't think he'll mind... and if he does, I think he can deal."
When I got up, Gerard thanked me. I walked through the hallway, about to go into Amanda's brother's room for the first time. I went to the last room on the left, since that was the one I always saw Jake go in, and felt the wall for a lightswitch. As I turned it on, I took the room in. It wasn't too messy. There was a double bed, band poster, a bureau... then my eyes landed on the beauty.
Excitedly, I ran toward it, unable to supress my thrilled giggle. It was a sunburst Gibson Les Paul, the one I had been saving up my money for forever to buy. With careful hands, I took it off it's stand and rested it on my lap. Leaving it unplugged, I strummed the strings a few times, then played a couple chords. I was a little rusty from not playing for five days, but it worked.
I played through a couple My Chemical Romance songs, then just messed around and played some random things and parts of songs that I'd never learned the whole way through.
"What are you doing?" said a voice from the doorway. It jumped me out of my dreamland that I slipped into whenever I held a guitar. I didn't have to look to know that it was Gerard.
"Uh, just playing..."
"I thought someone kidnapped you or something," he told me, chuckling and walking toward me. He sat on the floor across from me and said, "What are you playing?"
"Just songs. How long was I gone for, anyway?" I said.
"Like, fifteen minutes atleast," he said, nodding slightly.
"Haha, oh," I said, unable to believe him. I began plucking strings, playing a song that I couldn't remember the name of.
"That's sounds nice," he told me, watching my fingers move on the fretboard.
I gave him a look, "You can hear it?" I asked.
"Sort of," he replied. I grabbed the patchcord off the floor and plugged it into the guitar, turned on the amp, and continued playing the song. I stopped abrubtly near the end, because I had figured out what song it was. I gave a worried look in Gerard's direction but threw it away just as it had come.
"What?" he said.
It was Interlude, on the Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge CD.
"I, um, thought... thought I heard Jake coming. He would probably be mad if he knew I was playing his Les Paul."
"How long have you been playing, anyway? You're really good," Gerard said.
"Like... two and a half years. But don't get me started on guitars because I will never shut up. I think I really need to get Amanda one."
Looking at me with a strange expression, he said, "Huh?"
"Oh, me one... you know what I meant," I told him, letting out a fake laugh.
He smiled, hiding another expression with happiness, but I couldn't decode his face. So maybe he did remember. Why was he acting normal, though?
I shut the amp off, not wanting to play anymore because of the sick feeling that he'd remembered what he'd heard. Putting the guitar back in place, I stood up and looked in the drawers of the bureau to find Gerard a clean (dry) shirt and pants. Picking out a plain white tee and some blue striped flannel pants, I tossed them to him. He looked down at the clothes and frowned.
"Sorry, I know you like them to match," I said, unable to stop myself. I remembered an interview on Steven's Untiled Rock Show when future Gerard said something like, 'I like the top and bottom pajamas. And they have to match, too.'
He laughed a bit, "How'd you know that?"
I just shrugged and walked out of Jake's room, shutting off the light. Gerard quickly followed, and as I flopped in my bed, he went in my bathroom and changed. I pulled the covers over me and curled in a ball, listening to the rustling of his clothes. A smile broke out on my face, because he just made me so damn happy.
The light from under the doorway shut off and the door squeeked open. I watched his shadow come near and felt the bed go down under his weight. I pushed over, giving him room to lay. He made himself comfortable underneath the blanket, his arm brushing me a few times.
As we quietly laid there, a little cramped because of the small size of the bed, I suddenly got butterflies in my stomach. I turned and put my head to Gerard's chest and curled up as close as I could to him. The red analog clock on the bedside table read 4:43. I felt his fingers playing with my hair, curling it. I closed my eyes and yawned.
Us laying there, I thought about what it would be like to never go back to my old life, as Casey Stone, even though it hurt to be away from my family and few friends that I had. It would be so great to grow up and be with Gerard, have a family and kids. I never wanted kids, but with him I wouldn't mind. That's not how his life is supposed to happen in the future, but... maybe changing the future wouldn't be so bad. Or maybe I was just being selfish.
"What are you thinking about?" Gerard whispered tiredly.
I thought for a second, "What kind of guitar I want to get."
He went quietly, finally saying, "I had a weird dream."
"Hm."
"You were crying because you... I don't even remember. Something about like, a girl named Casey? And being scared to be taken away? And you said that you want to stay with me, not go back to... your old life."
"Hm," I didn't know what to say. "That's a weird dream."
"Yeah."
I rolled onto my back and yawned again, pulling the blankets up to my chin.
"You know what's weird?" Gerard whispered.
"What?"
"How fast we became so... close."
"I guess we just have a really good connection," I told him, suddenly drowzy.
"Maybe," he said. I could tell he knew his 'dream' wasn't a dream at all.
But he dropped the subject and started rambling on about something to do with chunky oil pants. I dozed off.
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