Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
I Swear to Drunk I'm Not God
2 ReviewsIf Bob and Mikey were this bad, God knows what Frank was doing.
Just a note: This is Revenge Era, and no one is in a relationship. Just because it fits better. :3
It was a Friday night on the tour bus, and the sound of heavy partying, drunken escapades, and aftermaths of alcohol consumption were swirled around the surprisingly warm night.
But of course, all this was heard from inside the bus.
Ray wanted this tour to be as memorable as possible, so no drunken parties, no mini-fridges, curfews, and as much security as possible.
Mikey, Gerard, Bob and Frank were not very content people.
"Like, c'mon, man!" Frank had pleaded with Ray earlier, just after an excited announcement of parties. "Just the one party! It's just across from the bus!"
Ray being Ray, had stood firm and denied Frank access to any sort of drinking carnage.
Frank had scowled and declared Ray 'a thief of joy,' before climbing into his bunk and blaring out Black Flag for everybody to hear.
Gerard was giving Ray silent treatment, and Bob and Mikey were non-plussed about the whole affair.
When Frank had asked Mikey on his thoughts about Ray's control, Mikey had shrugged and walked away to turn on the coffee machine. And on asking Bob, he just looked at Frank and went on about his business.
Gerard was just not talking. Just sitting, drawing, and acting distant to Ray. But talking away to his brother and Frank.
"I'm only trying to help!" Ray yelled, exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.
"You are ruining the whole fun of touring." Frank said, pointing at a fuming Ray and pouting for effect.
Suddenly Gerard stood up, and threw his sketchbook and pencil on the bunk. "Fuck this, I'm twenty eight, I can do what I want!" he exclaimed, quickly strutting off the bus before Ray could catch him. Bob looked around for a second, and quickly hurried over towards the bus door.
Ray looked on in astonishment, as Frank and Mikey both shrugged and quickly made their way off the bus and into the grips of the party outside them.
"Guys! C'mon! Surely we can talk this over-" Ray quickly came to his senses and ran after the runaway men.
Ray stumbled outside to find a full-on party going on right there outside, and to his dismay, Frank, Bob, Gerard and Mikey had disappeared into the depths of the gyrating crowd.
Ray swore inwardly, and began to push around the drunken, dancing people around him.
Several hours later, Ray had had, well, he couldn't count all that well in his current inebriated state. He found that there were gallons (or so it seemed) of alcohol, here and there and fucking everywhere. At this point, he was too off his ass to know that he was looking for someone, never mind who. He had mostly stayed by himself, occasionally coming across equally-drunk people who, in their alcohol-numbed minds, found Ray's hair absolutely fascinating. He managed to shrug off the clingy ones without any effort.
Suddenly, in a sobered moment, he thought he saw something he recognised. Stumbling towards it, he had to focus on remembering who it was.
It was Mikey, heavily making out with some girl Ray was pretty sure he'd never seen before.
Mikey and the unknown girl remained oblivious to Ray quite obviously standing there staring absently, and Ray stumbled away, still remaining under the radar of Mikey and his 'companion'.
He shuddered in slight disgust and felt slightly mentally disturbed, shaking his head and walking more steadily.
Suddenly, a soft-ish force knocked into Ray, almost making him topple over. Ray managed to get a grip in gravity and wobble back on his feet, to take a look at his attacker.
Bob.
Bob was obviously even more drunk than Ray, his eyes half-lidded, muttering gibberish and swaying wildly against the rules of gravity.
Ray grabbed Bob's hand and managed to pull Bob back to normal stance, steadying him as he nearly fell over again.
"You," Bob slurred to Ray. "You- I think I know you."
Ray furrowed his eyebrows. You know you're drunk when you don't recognise your bandmates immediately.
"You-Ray, my man, Ray... yeah, cool story bro." Bob was still slurring in gibberish, and swaying madly. "Needs more fire-breathing dragons and shit. Maybe some fuckin' rainbows... that's some hot shit right there."
Ray watched Bob as he swaggered off into the party, that was still going on, even at this hour.
If Bob and Mikey were like this, God knows what shit Frank was up to.
Rounding the edge of the dancing party, Ray soon found himself walking a little way out where all the bad drunken ideas happen.
He soon found Frank, hearing him before he actually saw him.
There were a few guys hanging about outside a brick building a few metres away from where the party was, and that's where Ray saw Frank.
He soon concluded that Frank was as drunk as Bob. Probably a little better, but not much.
As Ray walked towards Frank, he saw some random guy hand a few dollar bills to Frank, who put them in his jean pocket.
Ray was slightly worried now. Frank's ideas were stupid and bad in general, whatever happened while drunk was sure to be a fucking disaster.
Out of nowhere, Frank just ran at the wall and jumped at it, bouncing his small body off the hard brick and lying sprawled on the ground.
Ray stood in shock for a few seconds, before making a move to run over to Frank who was now laughing to himself.
"FRANK, WHAT THE FUCK?" Ray yelled, almost tripping over sone loose discarded beer cans. Frank's drunken peers glanced at Ray, but not paying much attention to the wrath making its way towards them.
By the time Ray got to Frank, he was on his feet (barely) and chatting with the guy who paid him.
"Frank?" Ray asked.
"Hey ho, its Ray!" Frank slurred, flinging an arm across Ray's shoulders. "You see what I did?"
"What was that for? OH MY GOD YOUR NOSE-" Ray suddenly noticed Frank's nose was almost concealed by blood bleeding profusely from his nose.
"What-" Frank wiped his nose, and widened his eyes and he saw the blood on his hand.
"We should go back, this is serious." Ray quickly grabbed Frank's arm, despite his protests.
After shoving Frank into the bus, Ray decided he should probably bring the others back to the bus, a he could faintly tell the sky was getting lighter.
Mikey, Ray and Bob finally made it back.
Mikey hadn't been the most happy person to be dragged away from his companion, in fact Ray had to poke him a few times to detach Mikey's face from hers, but managed to snag her number, so he was alright after that.
Bob was convinced that Ray was a spy out to get him, and furiously resisted Ray trying to drag him back to the bus. He kept loudly declaring Ray was out to get them all, and even tried to quote Braveheart by the time they reached the bus.
Ray had breathed a sigh of relief when finding Gerard on the bus, perfectly sober and hiding beside the safety of the coffee machine.
In the morning, Ray didn't notice his hangover at first. He lay there for a while, but as soon as he tried to move, his eyes bugged out from the pain and he spazzed out of his bed, landing on the bus floor.
After he managed to get up and stumble to the kitchen area, he found Gerard beside the coffee machine again.
"Where's everyone else?" He mumbled, clumsily pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"Mikey went out, he said he had something to do." Gerard answered.
"More like someone to do," Ray said to himself, taking a sip of coffee.
Gerard looked at Ray weirdly. "Bob and Frank are still asleep, I think."
"Nope." Bob strolled up to Gerard and Ray, giving off an air that he was slightly disgruntled.
"What did I do last night?" Bob groaned, holding his head in his hands.
"You accused me of being a spy out to get everyone." Ray stated calmly.
"Cool." Bob shrugged.
"Yeah, then you tried to quote Braveheart, but you kept saying freedom wrong."
"Wow."
"You also said something before that about unicorns, or was it fire-breathing dragons-" Ray was interrupted by a loud scream from down the bus.
"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY NOSE?"
It was a Friday night on the tour bus, and the sound of heavy partying, drunken escapades, and aftermaths of alcohol consumption were swirled around the surprisingly warm night.
But of course, all this was heard from inside the bus.
Ray wanted this tour to be as memorable as possible, so no drunken parties, no mini-fridges, curfews, and as much security as possible.
Mikey, Gerard, Bob and Frank were not very content people.
"Like, c'mon, man!" Frank had pleaded with Ray earlier, just after an excited announcement of parties. "Just the one party! It's just across from the bus!"
Ray being Ray, had stood firm and denied Frank access to any sort of drinking carnage.
Frank had scowled and declared Ray 'a thief of joy,' before climbing into his bunk and blaring out Black Flag for everybody to hear.
Gerard was giving Ray silent treatment, and Bob and Mikey were non-plussed about the whole affair.
When Frank had asked Mikey on his thoughts about Ray's control, Mikey had shrugged and walked away to turn on the coffee machine. And on asking Bob, he just looked at Frank and went on about his business.
Gerard was just not talking. Just sitting, drawing, and acting distant to Ray. But talking away to his brother and Frank.
"I'm only trying to help!" Ray yelled, exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.
"You are ruining the whole fun of touring." Frank said, pointing at a fuming Ray and pouting for effect.
Suddenly Gerard stood up, and threw his sketchbook and pencil on the bunk. "Fuck this, I'm twenty eight, I can do what I want!" he exclaimed, quickly strutting off the bus before Ray could catch him. Bob looked around for a second, and quickly hurried over towards the bus door.
Ray looked on in astonishment, as Frank and Mikey both shrugged and quickly made their way off the bus and into the grips of the party outside them.
"Guys! C'mon! Surely we can talk this over-" Ray quickly came to his senses and ran after the runaway men.
Ray stumbled outside to find a full-on party going on right there outside, and to his dismay, Frank, Bob, Gerard and Mikey had disappeared into the depths of the gyrating crowd.
Ray swore inwardly, and began to push around the drunken, dancing people around him.
Several hours later, Ray had had, well, he couldn't count all that well in his current inebriated state. He found that there were gallons (or so it seemed) of alcohol, here and there and fucking everywhere. At this point, he was too off his ass to know that he was looking for someone, never mind who. He had mostly stayed by himself, occasionally coming across equally-drunk people who, in their alcohol-numbed minds, found Ray's hair absolutely fascinating. He managed to shrug off the clingy ones without any effort.
Suddenly, in a sobered moment, he thought he saw something he recognised. Stumbling towards it, he had to focus on remembering who it was.
It was Mikey, heavily making out with some girl Ray was pretty sure he'd never seen before.
Mikey and the unknown girl remained oblivious to Ray quite obviously standing there staring absently, and Ray stumbled away, still remaining under the radar of Mikey and his 'companion'.
He shuddered in slight disgust and felt slightly mentally disturbed, shaking his head and walking more steadily.
Suddenly, a soft-ish force knocked into Ray, almost making him topple over. Ray managed to get a grip in gravity and wobble back on his feet, to take a look at his attacker.
Bob.
Bob was obviously even more drunk than Ray, his eyes half-lidded, muttering gibberish and swaying wildly against the rules of gravity.
Ray grabbed Bob's hand and managed to pull Bob back to normal stance, steadying him as he nearly fell over again.
"You," Bob slurred to Ray. "You- I think I know you."
Ray furrowed his eyebrows. You know you're drunk when you don't recognise your bandmates immediately.
"You-Ray, my man, Ray... yeah, cool story bro." Bob was still slurring in gibberish, and swaying madly. "Needs more fire-breathing dragons and shit. Maybe some fuckin' rainbows... that's some hot shit right there."
Ray watched Bob as he swaggered off into the party, that was still going on, even at this hour.
If Bob and Mikey were like this, God knows what shit Frank was up to.
Rounding the edge of the dancing party, Ray soon found himself walking a little way out where all the bad drunken ideas happen.
He soon found Frank, hearing him before he actually saw him.
There were a few guys hanging about outside a brick building a few metres away from where the party was, and that's where Ray saw Frank.
He soon concluded that Frank was as drunk as Bob. Probably a little better, but not much.
As Ray walked towards Frank, he saw some random guy hand a few dollar bills to Frank, who put them in his jean pocket.
Ray was slightly worried now. Frank's ideas were stupid and bad in general, whatever happened while drunk was sure to be a fucking disaster.
Out of nowhere, Frank just ran at the wall and jumped at it, bouncing his small body off the hard brick and lying sprawled on the ground.
Ray stood in shock for a few seconds, before making a move to run over to Frank who was now laughing to himself.
"FRANK, WHAT THE FUCK?" Ray yelled, almost tripping over sone loose discarded beer cans. Frank's drunken peers glanced at Ray, but not paying much attention to the wrath making its way towards them.
By the time Ray got to Frank, he was on his feet (barely) and chatting with the guy who paid him.
"Frank?" Ray asked.
"Hey ho, its Ray!" Frank slurred, flinging an arm across Ray's shoulders. "You see what I did?"
"What was that for? OH MY GOD YOUR NOSE-" Ray suddenly noticed Frank's nose was almost concealed by blood bleeding profusely from his nose.
"What-" Frank wiped his nose, and widened his eyes and he saw the blood on his hand.
"We should go back, this is serious." Ray quickly grabbed Frank's arm, despite his protests.
After shoving Frank into the bus, Ray decided he should probably bring the others back to the bus, a he could faintly tell the sky was getting lighter.
Mikey, Ray and Bob finally made it back.
Mikey hadn't been the most happy person to be dragged away from his companion, in fact Ray had to poke him a few times to detach Mikey's face from hers, but managed to snag her number, so he was alright after that.
Bob was convinced that Ray was a spy out to get him, and furiously resisted Ray trying to drag him back to the bus. He kept loudly declaring Ray was out to get them all, and even tried to quote Braveheart by the time they reached the bus.
Ray had breathed a sigh of relief when finding Gerard on the bus, perfectly sober and hiding beside the safety of the coffee machine.
In the morning, Ray didn't notice his hangover at first. He lay there for a while, but as soon as he tried to move, his eyes bugged out from the pain and he spazzed out of his bed, landing on the bus floor.
After he managed to get up and stumble to the kitchen area, he found Gerard beside the coffee machine again.
"Where's everyone else?" He mumbled, clumsily pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"Mikey went out, he said he had something to do." Gerard answered.
"More like someone to do," Ray said to himself, taking a sip of coffee.
Gerard looked at Ray weirdly. "Bob and Frank are still asleep, I think."
"Nope." Bob strolled up to Gerard and Ray, giving off an air that he was slightly disgruntled.
"What did I do last night?" Bob groaned, holding his head in his hands.
"You accused me of being a spy out to get everyone." Ray stated calmly.
"Cool." Bob shrugged.
"Yeah, then you tried to quote Braveheart, but you kept saying freedom wrong."
"Wow."
"You also said something before that about unicorns, or was it fire-breathing dragons-" Ray was interrupted by a loud scream from down the bus.
"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY NOSE?"
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