Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Past Memories
"So, where do you wanna go? There's a shitload of restaurants, pick one," Mikey said. We were in his car, heading straight for the New York skyline. I smiled and rested my head against the cool window.
"I don't care. I do know that Italian sounds so good right now." Specifically, Il Morso Migliore, the tiny cafe on the corner of my street. They had the best garlic bread in the city. I sighed softly, thinking about this beautiful place, bustling and busy, and I knew I could never find anywhere greater. New York was the only place that could ever really calm my emotions. The day I turned eighteen, I packed my bags and moved out of my parents' house.
The tall buildings began to swallow up the sky, looming somehow peacefully yet ominously. "So, you have a favorite place? Doesn't matter if it's in Manhattan or the Bronx, we'll go." Mikey replied, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"Just in Manhattan, right down the block from my apartment." I replied.
"Sounds good to me. Just tell me where to go. Just letting you know it can't be very long. I've gotta get home to Ali."
"Ali? Who's that?" I asked.
"His girlfriend. If you're up-to-date on your bands, you might know about her. She's a guitar tech. Alicia Simmons. Actually, his fiancée." Frank finally spoke. "And as far as you know, I never banged the chick." I laughed out loud.
"Fuck you, man," Mikey retorted, punching Frank's arm.
"Yeah, I've heard of her. Actually I think I met her once. On a From First To Last set. She's nice."
"Oh, she's worked with them plenty of times before." Mikey replied.
"Yeah, when she gets time off from, the tiny cafe on the corner of my street. They had the best garlic bread in the city. I sighed softly, thinking about this beautiful place, bustling and busy, and I knew I could never find anywhere greater. New York was the only place that could ever really calm my emotions. The day I turned eighteen, I packed my bags and moved out of my parents' house.
The tall buildings began to swallow up the sky, looming somehow peacefully yet ominously. "So, you have a favorite place? Doesn't matter if it's in Manhattan or the Bronx, we'll go." Mikey replied, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"Just in Manhattan, right down the block from my apartment." I replied.
"Sounds good to me. Just tell me where to go. Just letting you know it can't be very long. I've gotta get home to Ali."
"Ali? Who's that?" I asked.
"His girlfriend. If you're up-to-date on your bands, you might know about her. She's a guitar tech. Alicia Simmons. Actually, his fiancée." Frank finally spoke. "And as far as you know, I never banged the chick." I laughed out loud.
"Fuck you, man," Mikey retorted, punching Frank's arm.
"That's your girlfriend's job." Another punch.
"Yeah, I've heard of her. Actually I think I met her once. On a From First To Last set. She's nice." I interrupted.
"Oh, she's worked with them plenty of times before." Mikey replied.
"Yeah, when she gets time off from fucking me," Frank laughed.
"Like I said, fuck you," Mikey replied.
"Left here," I commanded to Mikey, which he obediently followed.
"Like I said, that's Ali's job."
"Right." I said, Mikey once again taking the order. "Up here on the corner."
"Il Morso Migliore? What the hell does that mean?" Frank asked.
"Il Morso Migliore means 'the best bite', silly. And I know that only because I took a year of Italian in high school. Ask his brother. He thought I was crazy."
"I think he still does." Mikey said absentmindedly as he parallel-parked, which as far as I could remember was a feat for the record books when he was younger, although the last time I saw him he was only thirteen or fourteen.
I wasn't concerned about Mikey driving at that moment though, but I was fixated on my sad realization that Mikey's statement was true, and how much I desperately wished it wasn't.
"I don't care. I do know that Italian sounds so good right now." Specifically, Il Morso Migliore, the tiny cafe on the corner of my street. They had the best garlic bread in the city. I sighed softly, thinking about this beautiful place, bustling and busy, and I knew I could never find anywhere greater. New York was the only place that could ever really calm my emotions. The day I turned eighteen, I packed my bags and moved out of my parents' house.
The tall buildings began to swallow up the sky, looming somehow peacefully yet ominously. "So, you have a favorite place? Doesn't matter if it's in Manhattan or the Bronx, we'll go." Mikey replied, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"Just in Manhattan, right down the block from my apartment." I replied.
"Sounds good to me. Just tell me where to go. Just letting you know it can't be very long. I've gotta get home to Ali."
"Ali? Who's that?" I asked.
"His girlfriend. If you're up-to-date on your bands, you might know about her. She's a guitar tech. Alicia Simmons. Actually, his fiancée." Frank finally spoke. "And as far as you know, I never banged the chick." I laughed out loud.
"Fuck you, man," Mikey retorted, punching Frank's arm.
"Yeah, I've heard of her. Actually I think I met her once. On a From First To Last set. She's nice."
"Oh, she's worked with them plenty of times before." Mikey replied.
"Yeah, when she gets time off from, the tiny cafe on the corner of my street. They had the best garlic bread in the city. I sighed softly, thinking about this beautiful place, bustling and busy, and I knew I could never find anywhere greater. New York was the only place that could ever really calm my emotions. The day I turned eighteen, I packed my bags and moved out of my parents' house.
The tall buildings began to swallow up the sky, looming somehow peacefully yet ominously. "So, you have a favorite place? Doesn't matter if it's in Manhattan or the Bronx, we'll go." Mikey replied, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"Just in Manhattan, right down the block from my apartment." I replied.
"Sounds good to me. Just tell me where to go. Just letting you know it can't be very long. I've gotta get home to Ali."
"Ali? Who's that?" I asked.
"His girlfriend. If you're up-to-date on your bands, you might know about her. She's a guitar tech. Alicia Simmons. Actually, his fiancée." Frank finally spoke. "And as far as you know, I never banged the chick." I laughed out loud.
"Fuck you, man," Mikey retorted, punching Frank's arm.
"That's your girlfriend's job." Another punch.
"Yeah, I've heard of her. Actually I think I met her once. On a From First To Last set. She's nice." I interrupted.
"Oh, she's worked with them plenty of times before." Mikey replied.
"Yeah, when she gets time off from fucking me," Frank laughed.
"Like I said, fuck you," Mikey replied.
"Left here," I commanded to Mikey, which he obediently followed.
"Like I said, that's Ali's job."
"Right." I said, Mikey once again taking the order. "Up here on the corner."
"Il Morso Migliore? What the hell does that mean?" Frank asked.
"Il Morso Migliore means 'the best bite', silly. And I know that only because I took a year of Italian in high school. Ask his brother. He thought I was crazy."
"I think he still does." Mikey said absentmindedly as he parallel-parked, which as far as I could remember was a feat for the record books when he was younger, although the last time I saw him he was only thirteen or fourteen.
I wasn't concerned about Mikey driving at that moment though, but I was fixated on my sad realization that Mikey's statement was true, and how much I desperately wished it wasn't.
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