Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > My Life as an Outcast
Author's Note - From this point on the story will be told in normal style. You have met the main character and the main players, now it is time to see the story in everyone's view.
Drunken Mistake
She was too drunk. She had been drinking non-stop for the past three hours. Joe wasn't due back for another two, and she couldn't walk. Instead of quitting, she kept pumping her body full of her favorite Novocain. Strait whiskey. She had stopped using a glass and was now on her second bottle. She was in the mood to die or get fucked.
A man in the corner was eyeing her, and he was flashing her favorite white powder. She kept telling herself that a snort of that sweet release was worth whoring out her body for an hour. In a minute she would finally stop fighting herself and just walk over to him. He wasn't her type. They never were.
He was dressed in a meticulous business suit, with a matching tie. It was so funny to know that this man had no clue how much she was truly worth. He was just hoping to get his perfectly coiffed hair mussed with a piece of trailer trash. He was using the right bait.
Slowly Janna started walking over to him, her feet were steady and she knew what she wanted. Her eyes were glued to his coat pocket where her favorite candy was resting. Just a few more steps and she would make it there. No more worries just a quickie in the bathroom and a nose full of snow.
She was there. He was smiling. She was too. Now it was down to who would make the first move. Her or him.
"What's your name?" he said. He had already undressed her in his mind. It was time to play.
"It doesn't matter, and you really shouldn't care about my name," Janna said. "My name is my business, but you can call me outcast. Now let's go to the back." She grabbed his hand and pulled him up.
He stepped in front of her and led her to the men's bathroom. It was a quick walk, and as soon as the door slammed shut, he had her pinned to the wall. She pushed him off of her. She never played before she got paid.
"I want that candy in your pocket first."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Yes," she said, "you do." She wasn't in the mood for this shit. She started walking to the door, but he grabbed her arm and swung a plastic bag in her face.
"You mean this?" He poured some out on the counter and cut it into neat lines. Five lines and a rolled twenty dollar bill was all it took for her to offer herself to the devil three years ago. It worked this time too. She took the rolled twenty and quickly made the lines disappear.
"Now, how about you ride my dick, baby doll," he was quiet when he spoke this time. His dick was hard behind his suit trousers. There was no escape from this situation now, and it wasn't as if she cared.
"Alright, take what you want," she spat, and he started to. He had her shoved against a bathroom stall, kissing her. She didn't kiss back, and his touches left her cold. She turned her face, closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek to the cold stall door. He had his hand down her pants and was shoving his company soft fingers roughly in her.
"Come on," he said, "you know you want this." He unbuttoned his pants and shoved her jeans down. He started to roll on a condom, but stopped when he saw the scars running down her legs. "What the fuck!"
She turned her head and looked him in the eyes. "What," she whispered to him, "you don't like my war wounds?" She turned her body and pulled up her shirt. Her back was covered in jagged raised scars. "Aren't they pretty?"
He stared in horror, and his erection slowly lost its eagerness. "I have to go. My wife is waiting at home, and I just...I need to go." He pulled up his trousers, and fixed his business perfect hair in the mirror. "I'm sorry..."
"For what?" she laughed. The candy was starting to pump in her blood.
"If I had known, I wouldn't have..."
"Yes you would have, just not to me. Go home to your wife and kids. I'm sure they miss you. How long was this business trip?" He didn't answer her question, just turned and walked out of the bathroom door.
She was pulling up her jeans when one of the stall doors opened. When she looked up she just stared into the eyes of one of the men she hated.
"I thought I recognized that voice," came the voice of Gerard Way. He was staring at the top of her thighs, the only body part revealed by her half pulled up pants.
"What are you doing in here?" she half yelled at him. Why did this happen to her? Tomorrow morning this would be posted in all of the gossip and music news magazines.
"I was pissing," he said. "The better question is, what is a millionaire lead singer doing in the men's bathroom with her pants down?" How could she answer that question, she wasn't sure herself. It was time for her to go, but Gerard had maneuvered himself so that he was between her and her escape. If he saw her eyes he would know what was going on. She couldn't let anyone know.
"I need to go," she stuttered. "Would you please let me by?" She started walking towards him hoping he would just step to the side, but best laid plans never work. As she passed by him he grabbed her arm and held her in place. She tried to tug loose but she couldn't.
"What are you on? Why would you need to whore yourself out for whatever he gave to you?"
"It's none of your business. What I do is nobody's concern but mine, and why are you talking to me? Wasn't it you and your band that said I was a second rate whore with no talent? Are you surprised to find out I am really nothing but a whore?"
"We didn't say that..."
"Yes...you did! Will you let me go so I can leave now?" She pulled her arm out of his grasp and started walking away. She was through with this place. It was time to pay for her whiskey and start walking home. Joe would find her. He always did.
"JANNA!!!!" he yelled. "You can't go anywhere like you are. I'll give you a ride back. Just follow me, and I'll take you to your bus."
"I'm not going home." She walked out of the bathroom and he watched the door slam in his face. He didn't understand her. A year ago they were on their way to being friends and then some reporter printed some lies and she dropped them. She wouldn't even let him explain.
After a few minutes, he followed her out of the bathroom and watched her grab a half empty whiskey bottle and pay the bartender. After she walked out, he walked over to the man and asked him how much she had to drink.
"Well son, she is on her second bottle and by the look on her face it isn't going to last long. You might need to follow her if she is your responsibility."
"Thanks." He grabbed his jacket, and walked out the front door. He was going to follow her all night, or until she passed out. He walked pass his car, and then he spotted her. Just pass the corner of the building she was laying on her stomach almost completely unconscious.
Drunken Mistake
She was too drunk. She had been drinking non-stop for the past three hours. Joe wasn't due back for another two, and she couldn't walk. Instead of quitting, she kept pumping her body full of her favorite Novocain. Strait whiskey. She had stopped using a glass and was now on her second bottle. She was in the mood to die or get fucked.
A man in the corner was eyeing her, and he was flashing her favorite white powder. She kept telling herself that a snort of that sweet release was worth whoring out her body for an hour. In a minute she would finally stop fighting herself and just walk over to him. He wasn't her type. They never were.
He was dressed in a meticulous business suit, with a matching tie. It was so funny to know that this man had no clue how much she was truly worth. He was just hoping to get his perfectly coiffed hair mussed with a piece of trailer trash. He was using the right bait.
Slowly Janna started walking over to him, her feet were steady and she knew what she wanted. Her eyes were glued to his coat pocket where her favorite candy was resting. Just a few more steps and she would make it there. No more worries just a quickie in the bathroom and a nose full of snow.
She was there. He was smiling. She was too. Now it was down to who would make the first move. Her or him.
"What's your name?" he said. He had already undressed her in his mind. It was time to play.
"It doesn't matter, and you really shouldn't care about my name," Janna said. "My name is my business, but you can call me outcast. Now let's go to the back." She grabbed his hand and pulled him up.
He stepped in front of her and led her to the men's bathroom. It was a quick walk, and as soon as the door slammed shut, he had her pinned to the wall. She pushed him off of her. She never played before she got paid.
"I want that candy in your pocket first."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Yes," she said, "you do." She wasn't in the mood for this shit. She started walking to the door, but he grabbed her arm and swung a plastic bag in her face.
"You mean this?" He poured some out on the counter and cut it into neat lines. Five lines and a rolled twenty dollar bill was all it took for her to offer herself to the devil three years ago. It worked this time too. She took the rolled twenty and quickly made the lines disappear.
"Now, how about you ride my dick, baby doll," he was quiet when he spoke this time. His dick was hard behind his suit trousers. There was no escape from this situation now, and it wasn't as if she cared.
"Alright, take what you want," she spat, and he started to. He had her shoved against a bathroom stall, kissing her. She didn't kiss back, and his touches left her cold. She turned her face, closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek to the cold stall door. He had his hand down her pants and was shoving his company soft fingers roughly in her.
"Come on," he said, "you know you want this." He unbuttoned his pants and shoved her jeans down. He started to roll on a condom, but stopped when he saw the scars running down her legs. "What the fuck!"
She turned her head and looked him in the eyes. "What," she whispered to him, "you don't like my war wounds?" She turned her body and pulled up her shirt. Her back was covered in jagged raised scars. "Aren't they pretty?"
He stared in horror, and his erection slowly lost its eagerness. "I have to go. My wife is waiting at home, and I just...I need to go." He pulled up his trousers, and fixed his business perfect hair in the mirror. "I'm sorry..."
"For what?" she laughed. The candy was starting to pump in her blood.
"If I had known, I wouldn't have..."
"Yes you would have, just not to me. Go home to your wife and kids. I'm sure they miss you. How long was this business trip?" He didn't answer her question, just turned and walked out of the bathroom door.
She was pulling up her jeans when one of the stall doors opened. When she looked up she just stared into the eyes of one of the men she hated.
"I thought I recognized that voice," came the voice of Gerard Way. He was staring at the top of her thighs, the only body part revealed by her half pulled up pants.
"What are you doing in here?" she half yelled at him. Why did this happen to her? Tomorrow morning this would be posted in all of the gossip and music news magazines.
"I was pissing," he said. "The better question is, what is a millionaire lead singer doing in the men's bathroom with her pants down?" How could she answer that question, she wasn't sure herself. It was time for her to go, but Gerard had maneuvered himself so that he was between her and her escape. If he saw her eyes he would know what was going on. She couldn't let anyone know.
"I need to go," she stuttered. "Would you please let me by?" She started walking towards him hoping he would just step to the side, but best laid plans never work. As she passed by him he grabbed her arm and held her in place. She tried to tug loose but she couldn't.
"What are you on? Why would you need to whore yourself out for whatever he gave to you?"
"It's none of your business. What I do is nobody's concern but mine, and why are you talking to me? Wasn't it you and your band that said I was a second rate whore with no talent? Are you surprised to find out I am really nothing but a whore?"
"We didn't say that..."
"Yes...you did! Will you let me go so I can leave now?" She pulled her arm out of his grasp and started walking away. She was through with this place. It was time to pay for her whiskey and start walking home. Joe would find her. He always did.
"JANNA!!!!" he yelled. "You can't go anywhere like you are. I'll give you a ride back. Just follow me, and I'll take you to your bus."
"I'm not going home." She walked out of the bathroom and he watched the door slam in his face. He didn't understand her. A year ago they were on their way to being friends and then some reporter printed some lies and she dropped them. She wouldn't even let him explain.
After a few minutes, he followed her out of the bathroom and watched her grab a half empty whiskey bottle and pay the bartender. After she walked out, he walked over to the man and asked him how much she had to drink.
"Well son, she is on her second bottle and by the look on her face it isn't going to last long. You might need to follow her if she is your responsibility."
"Thanks." He grabbed his jacket, and walked out the front door. He was going to follow her all night, or until she passed out. He walked pass his car, and then he spotted her. Just pass the corner of the building she was laying on her stomach almost completely unconscious.
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