Shirley is at a crossroads in her life. She can either choose the surprisingly monotonous world of filmmaking or do somehting fun in her life (like run off with Gerard Way).
"Shirley?" he said.
"I was wondering..."
He got down on one knee and pulled out a small box. It was kinda creepy, but cute at the same time. But I guess that was all pop-rockers.
"Will you marryme?"
I was stunned. Absolutely stunned.
"Yes," I said weakly.
He slipped the ring on my finger and gave me a kiss.
Three weeks later I sat down in my seat on an airplane next to Gerard Way. My band (The ToFurky Patrons) and MCR were doing a little stint together.
"Wow!" He said suddenly. "You're Shirley Manson!"
"That's me," I grinned.
"I LOVE you. Wow!"
Ray sat down next to me.
"You're Shirley, aren't you?" his eyes lit up.
"I heard you were AMAZING and George Lucas himself offered you an internship at Lucasfilm."
"I didn't realize I was so special."
"This is gonna be great!" Gerard said like a giddy little schoolgirl. "Tomorrow morning we'll get up bright and early and salute the Italian flag! Isn't that awesome?"
"You have fun with that," I mumbled to myself while half-asleep. "Kids these days..."
the next night we were in France. After nearly everyonehad gone to bed, Frankie got the bright idea to play truth or dare.
"No!" I screamed. "That's too elementary."
"No it isn'," Cecil said, "it's fun."
"Look,"Frankie said, "either you want to play or you don't. Make up your mind."
"All right, I'll play."
"Great," Cecil said.
"Truth or dare, Cecil?" asked Frankie.
"Is it true taht you almost had a child with shirley until she got an abortion?"
"Absolutely not. Truth or dare, FRANKIE?"
"I dare you to go over to Bob's bunk in a toga and tell him you had a nightmare and ask to sleep with him andactually do it."
Frankie made a toga for himself without a word.
"Bob?" he said like a little kid. "I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you?"
"Sure," Bob said groggily, "just don't wet the bed or something."
Since Frankie stayed in the bunk the whole time, there was no point of really doing anything else.
"I don't know," Frank said the next night. "It could really be her."
"There's no way in hell that Paris Hilton really does her own singing. Just think about it." Gerard rolled his eyes and yawned.
Somehow, the tour had been pretty uneventful, thous,I was fully bored out of my mind. Suddenly, Patrick appeared out of nowhere.
"What are you doing in Germany?"
"I wanted to see you for a little bit."
"Calm down sweetie. It's only for tonight."
"All right. If you say so."
Tat night was so awkward, but I didn't know why. I was supposed to be happy to see Patric, not feel like something wsn't right.
By the end of the tour, things were very strange. Every time I'd try to e-mail Patrick I'd never get a response. It had gotten to the point where I just hung out with MCR and TTFP. What was wrong with my life?
We had gone back to New York (where we had started) and things were, yet agian, strange to say the least. He and Olivia had disappeared to somewhere, not like there were many places to go or something.
"Where'd Patrick and Olivia go?" Sammy asked.
"I don't know."
"Andwould it kill Gerard to wait till everyone's gone to--"
"I'm right here," Gerard said.
"Then what's that noise?"
"I'll go check." I said.
I carefully opened the door to Gerard and Olivia's room to see Patrick and Olivia having sex.
"What the fuck?!" I screamed a little louder than I meant to.
They both froze.
"Shirley, I--" I cut Patrick off.
"So THIS is what you did when I was gone?! THIS is what you didto kill time?! I can assure you that it is OVER bwtween us. You can just have this back!!!" I said, throuwing the four-and-a-half carat engagement ring set in platinum that he had given me at him.
"I can't believethis," Gerard said.
"Neither can I," I almost sobbed. I now had to go home and tell my parents what had happened on tour, and face everyone else, too.
At ten p.m. the next night I received a call from someone claimingot be the manager of the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
"This isn't funny," I said. "And even if you were telling the truth, wouldn't it make more sense to talk to the manager?" I pressed the off button on my cellie.
"Who ws that?" Zoe, who had been over at my house a lot lately, since I couldn't very well live with Patrick anymore, asked.
"Some ass pretending to be the REd Hot Chili Peppers' manager."
The next day, for some reason we were having an emergency band meeting at Starbucks.
"So," the manager said.
"The Red hot Chili Peppers want to tour with us. Speak of the devil--" Flea and and Anthony and their manager walked in.
Everyone said their hellos and my heart started pounding when Anthony sat down next to me.
"So," Brian (the manager, but not MCR's) said. "We were thinking we'd start this thing off with a tour in January. How does that sound?"
Everyone agreed that owuld work.
I was a little tense about the whole thing though.I mean, come ON. I was going on tour with the RED Hot Chili Peppers (and TTFP, but that was beside the point). Anthony Keidis was sitting next to me. We would all probably wind up going back to my script lair since I volunteered my bedroom at my parents' house four all band-related stuff. something told me that was a recipe for disaser. Once we got back to the house, eveyone just sort of split up in his or her own group. I was surprisingly un-interested in talking to Flea, who had been an idol of mine since forever, and wound up in my room with Anthony.
"So how many scripts have you written?"
"A good two-hundred."
"Nope. A good two-hundred, at least."
Do you let people read them?"
"Not really. Do you want to read one?"
"Well, then," I said whilst grabbing one of my many boxesof completed scripts from a random corner of my room, "here's a box of them that's been edited and put into proper form and everything."
"Does it matter which one I read?"
"Nope. Choose at random."
"I like this one," he said, grabbing "The Amazing Adventures of Alice the Great."
After about twenty minutes of reading he looked up.