Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I Never Told You What I Do For A Living... Transvestite style!
His Father! His Fucking FATHER was standing there in the crowd, bold as brass, looking absolutely horrified!
SHIT!
Ray stuttered and stumbled his way through his act, but still getting the whoops and cheers of praise from the regulars for the amount of fishnet covered leg he was showing from beneath his red skirt, which pleasantly matched his crimson thong, which was shown off rather embarrassingly from the audience’s point of view.
Immediately after the final chord was struck on the piano, ray dashed off stage, gaining worried looks from the other acts and stage crew, but he didn’t care.
His bloody FATHER had just seen that for Christ’s sake! All ray felt like doing was digging himself a huge hole to hide in, cut himself off from the world, from the people who didn’t understand him, who wouldn’t understand him.
His brain ordered him to come out of hiding in his dressing room after an hour, after all, he couldn’t hide in there all night…
He grabbed his coat and zipped it up tight around his casual male clothes, he left his costume at the clubhouse every night. Some people get suspicious when they see a man walk around with various feminine accessories.
As he stepped out of the venue the wind felt less harsh than the night he had met Gerard outside at that very spot, but the nervousness in his mind was more awake and alive than ever. He made his way down the road towards his shared flat, everything seemed to be fine, his father was nowhere to be seen. He continued on a few steps until suddenly a violent hand grasped his left shoulder and yanked him backwards viciously. He need not have looked at the person to know who it was, he was met with the face of his furious father, maroon with rage.
“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing up on that stage, you filthy boy!” His father yelled, spit flaring from his mouth and spraying Ray on the face, if ray hadn’t have been so terrified he’d have attempted to rub it off, but thought better of it.
“I-i-i… I…” Ray stuttered, he was terrified, every atom in his body was trembling as he tried to maintain his fathers gaze.
“What did you say, faggot!?” His father roared flinging Ray down the nearby alleyway that Gerard had emerged from those few nights ago. His face hit the floor first and Ray began to feel light headed already.
“D..Dad, plea-” He began.
“Don’t you DARE call me your father!” Rays father cut him off, giving him a kick in the ribs, “You’re no son of mine!”
His apparent father was right. At that moment in time they were such distant relations it felt as though they had never met. To Ray this wasn’t the man who would take him down to the park when he was four years old, who would kick around a football in the grassy fields and then lift a tiny Ray onto his shoulders before taking him off to feed the ducks by the nearby pond. This wasn’t the man who taught his adolescent son to drive, the one that didn’t shout even when Ray had driven his father’s brand new car into the garage door about an hour after it had been purchased. This man abusing him, beating him, shouting at him, was no father figure, he was a monster. His father gave one more brutal kick to his child before letting out a grunt and stomping away from the scene as if he had never been present.
Ray just lay there, in a pool of his own blood, vomit and tears, overcome with such powerful emotions. The man he had just been brought up to love and to idolize had just left him for dead in a dingy alleyway. He was in so much pain that even the pains had pain. After a while the mix of emotions, emptiness and pain mixed together to make numbness. Ray didn’t know how he managed it, but he made his way home. He put his key in the door and walked in.
The lights were still on. Ben, his roommate, must still have been awake. At that every moment a tall, lanky man with thick blonde hair strode into the room, foamy toothpaste was evident in his mouth and he immediately spat it out onto the carpeted floor as he saw Ray’s battered and bruised appearance. He scurried over and helped Ray to limp onto the couch. Ben rushed to tend to Ray’s wounds and gave him words of support as he whimpered in pain. It wasn’t often they exchanged long conversations, but in time they had grow as more like brothers, they would look out for each other through whatever and they always seemed to pull through.
“Who did this to you??” Ben asked worriedly as Ray winced in pain from his ribs as Ben rubbed his back soothingly.
“M-m-my…” Ray began, he could hardly dare to whimper the title of his attacker. ‘My Dad…”
Ben almost toppled from his seated position and began firing questions at Ray. All Ray wanted to do was sleep, and try and forget abut the night. He wanted it to all evaporate into one insignificant bad memory. He dismissed Ben’s questions, though he did deserve answers, and drifted off into a deep sleep.
Maybe tomorrow would bring better things for him…
SHIT!
Ray stuttered and stumbled his way through his act, but still getting the whoops and cheers of praise from the regulars for the amount of fishnet covered leg he was showing from beneath his red skirt, which pleasantly matched his crimson thong, which was shown off rather embarrassingly from the audience’s point of view.
Immediately after the final chord was struck on the piano, ray dashed off stage, gaining worried looks from the other acts and stage crew, but he didn’t care.
His bloody FATHER had just seen that for Christ’s sake! All ray felt like doing was digging himself a huge hole to hide in, cut himself off from the world, from the people who didn’t understand him, who wouldn’t understand him.
His brain ordered him to come out of hiding in his dressing room after an hour, after all, he couldn’t hide in there all night…
He grabbed his coat and zipped it up tight around his casual male clothes, he left his costume at the clubhouse every night. Some people get suspicious when they see a man walk around with various feminine accessories.
As he stepped out of the venue the wind felt less harsh than the night he had met Gerard outside at that very spot, but the nervousness in his mind was more awake and alive than ever. He made his way down the road towards his shared flat, everything seemed to be fine, his father was nowhere to be seen. He continued on a few steps until suddenly a violent hand grasped his left shoulder and yanked him backwards viciously. He need not have looked at the person to know who it was, he was met with the face of his furious father, maroon with rage.
“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing up on that stage, you filthy boy!” His father yelled, spit flaring from his mouth and spraying Ray on the face, if ray hadn’t have been so terrified he’d have attempted to rub it off, but thought better of it.
“I-i-i… I…” Ray stuttered, he was terrified, every atom in his body was trembling as he tried to maintain his fathers gaze.
“What did you say, faggot!?” His father roared flinging Ray down the nearby alleyway that Gerard had emerged from those few nights ago. His face hit the floor first and Ray began to feel light headed already.
“D..Dad, plea-” He began.
“Don’t you DARE call me your father!” Rays father cut him off, giving him a kick in the ribs, “You’re no son of mine!”
His apparent father was right. At that moment in time they were such distant relations it felt as though they had never met. To Ray this wasn’t the man who would take him down to the park when he was four years old, who would kick around a football in the grassy fields and then lift a tiny Ray onto his shoulders before taking him off to feed the ducks by the nearby pond. This wasn’t the man who taught his adolescent son to drive, the one that didn’t shout even when Ray had driven his father’s brand new car into the garage door about an hour after it had been purchased. This man abusing him, beating him, shouting at him, was no father figure, he was a monster. His father gave one more brutal kick to his child before letting out a grunt and stomping away from the scene as if he had never been present.
Ray just lay there, in a pool of his own blood, vomit and tears, overcome with such powerful emotions. The man he had just been brought up to love and to idolize had just left him for dead in a dingy alleyway. He was in so much pain that even the pains had pain. After a while the mix of emotions, emptiness and pain mixed together to make numbness. Ray didn’t know how he managed it, but he made his way home. He put his key in the door and walked in.
The lights were still on. Ben, his roommate, must still have been awake. At that every moment a tall, lanky man with thick blonde hair strode into the room, foamy toothpaste was evident in his mouth and he immediately spat it out onto the carpeted floor as he saw Ray’s battered and bruised appearance. He scurried over and helped Ray to limp onto the couch. Ben rushed to tend to Ray’s wounds and gave him words of support as he whimpered in pain. It wasn’t often they exchanged long conversations, but in time they had grow as more like brothers, they would look out for each other through whatever and they always seemed to pull through.
“Who did this to you??” Ben asked worriedly as Ray winced in pain from his ribs as Ben rubbed his back soothingly.
“M-m-my…” Ray began, he could hardly dare to whimper the title of his attacker. ‘My Dad…”
Ben almost toppled from his seated position and began firing questions at Ray. All Ray wanted to do was sleep, and try and forget abut the night. He wanted it to all evaporate into one insignificant bad memory. He dismissed Ben’s questions, though he did deserve answers, and drifted off into a deep sleep.
Maybe tomorrow would bring better things for him…
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