The ride to Spicy. Filled with a confused Ray, a flamboyant Mikey, adorable Frank, and good ol' Bob. Read, rate and review please! (edited!)
RuPaul's Drag Queens, Mikey's Fantasies, and Martin
A/N: Did this during school in computer lab. Learning programs can fuck off, I already have a 3.5 GPA. I hope you enjoy this chapter, seeing that my English teacher didn't really appreciate my writing. She glanced at what I was typing and then proceeded to roll her eyes and shake her head, the reaction I'd expect for Mikey, not me. xD
And thank you guys for all the reviews! 16 of them, wow. That's the most I've ever gotten, and it made me sooo fucking happy. I really really appreciate them, and I wanna thank all of you who have reviewed every chapter. You guys are just ah-mazing. I appreciate every word you guys type, and I try to respond to each and every one, all with different answers. You read my stories, so I'll respond with your own personal message. If you want, skim over those responses, I try to thank you for each one. :)
Now that I am done purging with gratefulness, enjoy!
“So how far is this club, Ray?” I asked him as I applied my foundation in the car mirror. It was Mac, my favorite brand, and it was their palest foundation. I pride myself with this shit, it’s like magic.
Okay, I might’ve sounded a bit girly there, but it’s true.
“Well, from your house it’s about a fifteen minute drive.” He said, running his hand through his massive wad of hair known as an afro.
“But that’s not enough time to properly make myself gorgeous!” I muttered, I would’ve yelled out, but I was currently dabbing the foundation around my lips. If it’s a punk rock club, the guys would drop dead for someone as pale as me.
I hope Frank is one of them. Well, I don’t hope he drops dead, more like I hope he drops on me. Cuz’ you know, I look dead. Shit, now I’m confused.
“Gerard, please stop acting like one of those drag queens from RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Mikey said from the backseat. Beside him were Frank and Bob. The smallest always got the middle, so I think you know who got that seat.
Frank giggled. “You kinda are Gerard, just that you’re not wearing a dress or something, and you’d look waaay better as a chick than them.”
“Yeah, he’s right Gerard, you could pull off being a chick.” Bob added.
As I was applying just a hint of mascara, I got a feeling that this is going somewhere bad. Like really bad.
“You have that little adorable nose of yours, your lips are thin and soft-looking, your body is really slender, and you have a pert butt.” Ray said, turning to the left.
“Well those are really descriptive observations Ray,” Mikey smirked, “do you have the hots for Gerard or something?”
I dropped my eyeliner, stopping mid-eye to hear his response. I needed to hear this, I knew this was gonna go bad.
“Uhh…” Ray clenched the steering wheel, “I don’t have the hots for him, but I do admit he is a really good-looking dude.”
“Mhmm…” Bob smirked, “whatever you say Toro, whatever you say.”
“I don’t have he hots for him okay! It’s just that he’s a very good-looking dude, who can pull off being a chick!” he threw his arms in the air, forgetting he was driving a damn car.
“Ray! Hands on the fucking wheel!” Frank yelled at him. I just realized he only spoke once about the whole drag ordeal.
“Yeah Ray! Shit, you always do that! Remind me why we let you drive us places!” Mikey looked at him from the reflection in the mirror.
“Well, you guys are always either putting on make-up, like Gerard here, fixing their hair, like you do, some are probably too tiny to reach the pedal, like Frank,” Frank flipped him off, “or taking a pre-clubbing nap like Bob there.”
The three of us turned to Bob, who was snuggled up against the window, apparently taking a little snooze. This is one of the only times when he doesn’t look like he’ll beat the shit out of you if you look at him wrong. And he will beat the shit out of you if you do, so I recommend you don’t.
I applied the last of my eyeliner, and smudged it a bit to give it a smoky look. Then I ran a hand through my raven colored hair, making sure it was messy, but not too messy. It is really hard to get myself to look this good. Although, if I would’ve had a chance to change, I woulda looked sexier than Billie Joe Armstrong, Andy Sixx, Jared Leto, Brendon Urie, and Oli Sykes put together.
Actually, that would look like a horrible deformed mess of tangled limbs, multiple heads, a shitload of feet, a lot of dicks, and whole bunch of arms.
So I already do look better than that, which is a good thing. I think even Mikey would look better than that. And that’s saying something.
“Gerard!” Frank snapped his fingers in my ear. “Hey! Gee!”
“Huh? Wha- What’s wrong?” I snapped my head to the side.
“That’s what I wanted to ask you, you’ve just been sitting there, staring at yourself in the mirror for like the past five minutes.” He gave me this look, this really cute look. His nose was scrunched up in the cutest way, his eyes were wide and shining with curiosity, and his lips were forming the most brain melting smirk.
“Just thinking what Billie Joe Armstrong, Andy Sixx, Jared Leto, Brendon Urie, and Oli Sykes would look like put together.” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Now I probably sound like a horny 23 year-old.
Pfft, like every 23 year old isn’t, they’re practically as horny as teenagers are. But no one is hornier than 20 year old, seeing as Mikey is always on the prowl.
“Well, that would look like a mess of tangled limbs, like five heads, and five dicks.” He counted on his fingers. “That would be like a never-ending orgy.”
“Which I’d love to be a part of.” Mikey cut in, which was followed by groans of disgust by Ray, Frank, and I. Bob, well he was still napping soundly, occasionally snoring.
“Mikey, not to be prude or anything, but I don’t need to hear about your fantasies.” Ray’s face contorted into a look of utter disgust. “Now I have a mental image of that burned into my head!”
“Which explains why you’re getting a boner there.” I chuckled.
“Am not!” Ray glanced down, eyes wide. “I am not getting a boner!”
“Kidding Toro! I’m kidding!” I shielded myself with my hands as I shook my head. I didn't wanna get attacked by the puff headed man known as Raymond “You got pretty scared there, are you sure you’re not gay?”
“Awww, don’t mess with him like that Gerard.” Frank smiled. “You’re gonna make him crash or something.”
“Yeah, and I wanna die fucking, not by some sexually confused, fro-owning, guitar-playing driver.” Mikey said, ignoring the eye rolling coming from me and the gorgeous tattooist next to him.
“Too much info Mikey,” I turned to look at him, “way too much info. Now I'm probably gonna attempt to gorge my brain out and feed it to the dogs.”
“Yeah Gerard, whatever you say, and anyways, we're here!” Ray called out as he pulled into a parking lot. “Wake up Bob and tell’em!”
We pulled into a space, which was very hard to find, seeing as the lot was filed with cars.
Occasionally, you could see a car bouncing up down, and as Mikey put it ‘Well, they’re having a nice little quickie’.
I hope I get laid tonight, just like everyone else. We were all hoping to find us a hot punk dude, or for Bob, a ‘sexy punk nymph’ as he put it. We aren’t sure what Ray wants exactly.
As we got out the car, we took in the scenario. There were people everywhere, and they were all punks. There were the punks with the Mohawks, piercings, tattoos, tattered leather jackets, and the attitude that comes with it. Then there were the equally as punkish people with just the skinny jeans and band tees. No, they were not emo’s, they were all huddled in a group, scared shitless.
Then there were the people who looked like rockers, but they didn’t fit into the specific ‘punk’ style. They were the ones who were also metalheads, alternative nerds, indie dudes and chicks, and goth at the same time. Basically, they looked like they belonged in every single damn style rock had created.
But what they all had in common, side from the love of punk, was that they all had a vice. All of them were either smoking, drinking, taking some mysterious substance, or indulging in the addiction of lust.
“This is my kind of fucking club.” Frank smirked as he watched a midget in a cape ran past him, also sporting a spiked choker.
We all walked towards the entrance, which was being guarded by a disturbed looking meat-head. Your typical bouncer, except this guy had tons of piercings. TONS.
“I’ll handle this.” Frank stepped up to the massive dude. He towered over Frank, who was only about 5’4.
“Hi Martin.” Frank greeted the bouncer, totally unfazed.
The bouncer glanced at him, and then quickly did a double take. “Frankie? Is that you?” he blinked profusely.
“You know it.” He smirked at Martin. The bouncer returned the gesture, and the three of us just stood there, totally surprised.
How the flying fuck did Frank know this massive, pierced mammoth of a man?
A/N: So que pensaron? That means: What did you think? Could you review and rate por favor? I'll love you forever! (with your permission :D)