My Chemical Romance's two eldest albums hate the fact that they've been all but forgotten. Songfic challenge from CosmicZombie
Note that Bullets is a guy, Revenge is a female, the Parade is personified as the Patient.
The old fanbase was dying, there was no doubt about that. The day that Danger Days had come out, most of the old fans said to hell with My Chemical Romance. "They said they were going to return to their original sound after that sellout of the Black Parade." The defectors had said. "Instead," they said, "they just went worse. We see nothing of the original Romance that we fell in love with!"
There were not very many people from the Parade era left. Most of them had only caught on because it was 'in' due to the 'emo' scene that had died out a while previous. But to be honest, most of them didn't truly understand the music, maybe not even liking it. They were the type that said that they were in love with the band, the band was their whole life, but they didn't even know the names of the members. And if you tried to bring up Bullets, or Revenge, they'd ask what it was, insist that it wasn't from the same band, say that you were lying to them.
But there were some who actually did respect, if not like, the older songs. These didn't understand why all the division between the two fanbases. In fact, after seeing the behavior of some of the newer members, they chose to align themselves with the older, more mature fans. And it tended to work, because the older group was more accepting of people than the newer fans. With the majority of the new ones, all you had to do was say you didn't like a song, or liked one they didn't and they would try to chop your head off.
Then older than the Parade era, was the Revenge era. They certainly had less fans still in existence, but they were also more organized and closer than the Parade members. There was almost a family like feeling to this group. Then, even older than them, was the Bullets era.
They didn't have the fancy uniforms like the Parade marchers, or even the mild organization of the Revenge era, with its all black ensemble, button down shirt, dress slacks and shoes, and bright red tie. But at the same time, it didn't have the extreme eye-soreness that came with the Killjoy era, the blinding colors thrown one on the other. No, while disorganized, and you'd probably be unable to tell them as being a part of the same group, they tended towards the darker colors, looking somehow more organized than with the Killjoys. Black was their unifying theme it seemed.
While these were the oldest fans, they were also some of the fewest in existence. Most of htem had gotten sick and tired and just plain left, after seeing the disaster that was supposed to be the new album that was going to be the 'throwback' to the Bullets album. They were the ones that had given up, throwing their hands in the air in frustration and disgust at seeing the new fans, no better than teeny boppers. They were nothing more than raving fangirls, they had said. Gerard and the rest of the band had originally set forth a message of "We;re all people here, let's treat everyone with kindness here." They tried to stick to it, while the newer ones tended to say to hell with it, acting superior just because they liked a certain band, or knew the words to just one song.
Hell, the Bullets era didn't even have a solid world. Revenge had their vague resemblance of a world, or a t least a storyline, the Parade had their own literal world, and who could forget the new Killjoy world of the somewhat apocalyptic 2015 California? But somehow, the Revenge and Bullets era came to an agreement, that for the most part, they just couldn't stand the new Killjoy era, and much to their surprise, they were joined by a fair amount of Parade marchers, who couldn't stand the way that things were headed
They all agreed, that this new album was certainly not what they were expecting, nor did they like it.
Revenge and Bullets sat there talking, with the somewhat present Black Parade with them. After all, he was sick, and constantly zoning out, whether it was from the pills, the disease, or just plain boredom and tiredness.
"You know, they did say that it'd be a throwback to my time." Bullets said, sighing in annoyance. "You think I like this any more than you do? I can't stand the way everything over there's so colorful. I swear, it's like the original band got captured and whoever is left is trying to ruin thier image." Revenge replied, before turning her attention to the Patient. He was knocked out snoring away. "Fuck it, bastard'll probably just sleep there all day." Bullets spat, rolling his eyes. "Amen to that!"
There was a few minutes of silence between the two of them for a while, before Revenge said softly, "Hey, Bullets?"
"Do you ever think that this might be the last album we stick with this band for?" She asked. "What do you mean?" He asked, sitting up and looking her in the eyes. "I'm just saying, they've changed so much since they created you and I... I don't think they're the same anymore."
"People do change, you know that, right?" Bullets asked her. "I do, but at the same time, it bothers me. I was talking to Murder A/N: Life On The Murder Scene, which is like a mother figure to Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge in this story the other day, and she said that maybe I should just hold on to who I am, and just walk away from this all without looking back." Revenge said, tugging at a strand of her hair. "Then maybe you should listen to her."
"But how? I was pretty much their first organized creation! I was almost probably the reason why they got so far! Why the Parade over there got so much publicity! Because I made them famous!" Revenge yelled, pointing at herself. The tears were about to start. Bullets was no relief, only saying, "Conceited much?" with a smirk on his face. "Fuck you!" She yelled. At the same time, she knew that she shouldn't be yelling at the only other album that wasn't completely fucked up that she had for company. The Parade was too different from her, and LOTMS, what could she really say? LOTMS wasn't a full album, more like an EP and collection of songs, scatterbrained at best.
"You know, you really shouldn't give a fuck about all the rules they make. Because in the end, who cares?" Bullets asked, continuing on like nothing had happened. "It's your own life, and most of all what they say these days is just bullshit."
"You don't know that for sure." Revenge whispered, voice wavering. "Listen, didn't I tell you that we'd always stick together, despite our differences? Even after everything's over, and this band goes to hell, which is where it's headed anyways, I will still be there by your side."Bullets said, in an attempt to stop the younger album from crying.
"Besides," he continued, "They only live in the glow of the lights that they make for themselves. Those lights are us. Their albums. The only reason they got famous is for their songs. We are the only reason that they might be immortalized. Hell, I doubt that'd happen, because they aren't being listened to by so many people. We are."
"But they were the ones that created us, so in effect, they are."
"Revenge. Literally, they are only known for us, ok? Try to get that into your head. You and I both agree that you only feel your heart begin to break after you hear the new songs, proof that they've forgotten you once again."Bullets said. He was losing his temper now.
"They've completely forgotten us?" Revenge asked, her head shooting up. No, it was impossible!
"Of course they've fucking forgotten us! We're the fucking kids from yesterday! I doubt that anyone gives a fuck about us anymore. So just get over yourself already! We're bygones, has-beens, washed out! All the cameras that were there, you know what they cared about? They only fucking cared about the accidents. They didn't care about us. They only give a fuck if you can bleed. Other than that to hell with you! You need to understand that!" Bullets said, storming out, knocking over his chair in the process. The two avoided each other for the next few days.
Around a week later, Revenge was sitting on the couch, watching reruns of old CSI episodes. Out of nowhere, Bullets fell into the seat next to her. It appeared that he hadn't completely gotten over it, because he was still pissed. "So does the television make you feel all those pills you take? Does it show everyone that you have to be?" was the first thing out of his mouth. "Just drop it." Revenge mumbled. She didn't want to have to open up that can of worms again. It was just too much.
"You know what, you're going to have to face it one day. We're here, and it's not like we're going to stop breathing any time soon. So why don't you just yell about being forgotten til your heart stops beating? I'll even help you."
"Leave me alone, Bullets."
"You know, we're still the kids from yesterday, whether you want to accept that or not."