Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Nobody Cares If We're Losing Ourselves
When Jaime opened her eyes the short guitarist was still there, this time joined by the other three men she had seen earlier on the couches in the front of the bus. She remembered them as the band Beth had taken her to see last night.
Memories of the night before flooded her and she shivered slightly. Then she remembered what she had seen in the mirror and she sat bolt upright, frantic. Firm hands caught her shoulders and held her steady. She looked to their owner to see the blond drummer smiling worriedly at her.
“Gee,” said the cute one with glasses. “What’s wrong?”
She ran her hands up through her hair - scratch that, his hair - and then felt down her face and chest. This was so wrong.
She looked up at him, fear plain on her face. “I’m not Gerard.”
The short guitarist laughed and got up. “Don’t worry, he’s fine. He’s even back to pulling stupid jokes.”
Jaime glared at him. “I’m not joking. My name is Jaime Evans, I live on Cynder Street, in an apartment I share with my brother. I work at a day care center, I’m allergic to milk, I hate cats. I’m not Gerard, and I don’t belong here!”
She was speaking a mile a minute, rambling, hysterical. The guys looked at her, shocked. Sure Gerard was one to occasionally go in for a joke, but this?
The blond one let go of her shoulders and leaned in close to her face. “Alright,” he whispered. “You’re done. It’s not funny anymore.”
“I know it’s not funny. But it’s not a joke.”
“Gee - ”
“Stop calling me that!”
The guys all looked worried by this point. They believed he was still joking, but why was he dragging it out like this? The bus door opened a crack and another man yelled in, “Twenty minutes guys!”
They murmured acknowledgement, and the doors closed again. The tall one with the fro spoke up, “Twenty minutes to snap out of it, Gerard.”
Jaime let out a grunt of annoyance – were they always this thick? – before getting to her feet. “I wish I could snap out of it, I really do. But I don’t know how! I don’t even know how this happened. If you have any suggestions, I’m open.”
They just stared at her for a moment. It was Gerard’s body, but she wasn’t standing like Gerard. She seemed lighter on her feet, like a butterfly to Gerard’s elephant. And she definitely wasn’t talking like Gerard. Not just what she was saying, but her speech patterns, her accent.
The one with glasses spoke first. “Guys. What if - ?”
The short one interrupted him. “No, Mikey, it’s not possible.”
The blond added, “But it makes sense. Well, no it doesn’t make sense, but it fits. Kind of.”
Jaime had an idea. “Can you guys tell when I’m lying?” they looked at her blankly. “I mean Gerard. Can you tell when Gerard is lying? Because you live on a bus and you know each other so well and all. Can you tell?”
There were some nods. “Am I lying now?”
They seemed unsure how to respond. “Ok, ask me something. Something Gerard would definitely know, but Jaime wouldn’t. See if I’m lying.”
Glasses – Mikey? – was the first to speak. “What was your first pet when you were little?”
Jaime answered honestly. “I had a parakeet named Rupert.”
The guys looked at each other. “Mikes?” fro man asked. “Is that right?”
Mikey shook his head. “It was goldfish.”
“But I would totally have believed him,” the short one practically whined.
Jaime was losing patience. “Because I wasn’t lying! Gerard had goldfish. I had Rupert.”
There was an awkward silence. No one was quite sure what to think. Finally the short man laughed.
“Who names their parakeet Rupert?”
Jaime laughed too and looked down, slightly embarrassed. “Actually I got it from this one book I read.”
The blond one perked up. “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Mostly Harmless.”
“Yes!” Jaime just about squealed. “I love those books!”
“Me too!”
They were interrupted by an amused cough. “Children,” afro dude said. “Focus.”
“Yes, dad,” they chimed at the same time. She giggled, he smirked. She was beginning to like him.
“So you guys believe me?” Jaime asked, wary.
Mikey shrugged. “You’re going to keep on like this even if we don’t, right?” She nodded. “So I guess we don’t really have a choice.”
“Either way,” fro man added. “We have an interview in” – he checked his watch – “five minutes which you obviously can’t speak in.” He gestured to Mikey. “We’ll cover it, you guys try to figure out what’s going on.”
Everyone nodded, and the two left the bus. The short one and the blond one turned to Jaime. She smiled sheepishly.
“So you hate cats?” The short one finally broke the silence. Jaime nodded. “What is wrong with you?” He insisted. Jaime laughed and shrugged. She decided a topic change was in order.
“Honestly, I don’t even know your names,” she said.
“Frank,” the short one offered. The he pointed at the blond one and said “and Bob. The guy with the fro is Ray and the other one is Mikey.” Then he smirked. “You didn’t know our names? Some fan-girl you are.”
She laughed. “If I were a fan-girl I’d be trying to get you out of your pants, which would be awkward, considering…” she waved a hand down at her body.
Bob groaned and covered his eyes. “Ah, bad mental picture.”
“Oh you love it,” Frank laughed.
“So what do we do now?” Jaime asked.
Frank shrugged, “I guess we call the manager, he should know.”
Jaime nodded while Frank pulled out his cell and dialed. He spoke for a few minutes with someone named Brian and from this side of the conversation it was obvious that Brain did not believe him. Finally Frank sighed and held the phone out to her with a mumbled “He wants to talk to you.”
Shyly, she took the phone. “Hello?”
“So Frank tells me you are in fact not Gerard, but Jaime.”
“That’s right.”
“Ok, tell me something. If you’re not Gerard, then where is he?”
Jaime froze, she hadn’t thought about that. “Shit! He’s probably in my body! EW!”
Memories of the night before flooded her and she shivered slightly. Then she remembered what she had seen in the mirror and she sat bolt upright, frantic. Firm hands caught her shoulders and held her steady. She looked to their owner to see the blond drummer smiling worriedly at her.
“Gee,” said the cute one with glasses. “What’s wrong?”
She ran her hands up through her hair - scratch that, his hair - and then felt down her face and chest. This was so wrong.
She looked up at him, fear plain on her face. “I’m not Gerard.”
The short guitarist laughed and got up. “Don’t worry, he’s fine. He’s even back to pulling stupid jokes.”
Jaime glared at him. “I’m not joking. My name is Jaime Evans, I live on Cynder Street, in an apartment I share with my brother. I work at a day care center, I’m allergic to milk, I hate cats. I’m not Gerard, and I don’t belong here!”
She was speaking a mile a minute, rambling, hysterical. The guys looked at her, shocked. Sure Gerard was one to occasionally go in for a joke, but this?
The blond one let go of her shoulders and leaned in close to her face. “Alright,” he whispered. “You’re done. It’s not funny anymore.”
“I know it’s not funny. But it’s not a joke.”
“Gee - ”
“Stop calling me that!”
The guys all looked worried by this point. They believed he was still joking, but why was he dragging it out like this? The bus door opened a crack and another man yelled in, “Twenty minutes guys!”
They murmured acknowledgement, and the doors closed again. The tall one with the fro spoke up, “Twenty minutes to snap out of it, Gerard.”
Jaime let out a grunt of annoyance – were they always this thick? – before getting to her feet. “I wish I could snap out of it, I really do. But I don’t know how! I don’t even know how this happened. If you have any suggestions, I’m open.”
They just stared at her for a moment. It was Gerard’s body, but she wasn’t standing like Gerard. She seemed lighter on her feet, like a butterfly to Gerard’s elephant. And she definitely wasn’t talking like Gerard. Not just what she was saying, but her speech patterns, her accent.
The one with glasses spoke first. “Guys. What if - ?”
The short one interrupted him. “No, Mikey, it’s not possible.”
The blond added, “But it makes sense. Well, no it doesn’t make sense, but it fits. Kind of.”
Jaime had an idea. “Can you guys tell when I’m lying?” they looked at her blankly. “I mean Gerard. Can you tell when Gerard is lying? Because you live on a bus and you know each other so well and all. Can you tell?”
There were some nods. “Am I lying now?”
They seemed unsure how to respond. “Ok, ask me something. Something Gerard would definitely know, but Jaime wouldn’t. See if I’m lying.”
Glasses – Mikey? – was the first to speak. “What was your first pet when you were little?”
Jaime answered honestly. “I had a parakeet named Rupert.”
The guys looked at each other. “Mikes?” fro man asked. “Is that right?”
Mikey shook his head. “It was goldfish.”
“But I would totally have believed him,” the short one practically whined.
Jaime was losing patience. “Because I wasn’t lying! Gerard had goldfish. I had Rupert.”
There was an awkward silence. No one was quite sure what to think. Finally the short man laughed.
“Who names their parakeet Rupert?”
Jaime laughed too and looked down, slightly embarrassed. “Actually I got it from this one book I read.”
The blond one perked up. “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Mostly Harmless.”
“Yes!” Jaime just about squealed. “I love those books!”
“Me too!”
They were interrupted by an amused cough. “Children,” afro dude said. “Focus.”
“Yes, dad,” they chimed at the same time. She giggled, he smirked. She was beginning to like him.
“So you guys believe me?” Jaime asked, wary.
Mikey shrugged. “You’re going to keep on like this even if we don’t, right?” She nodded. “So I guess we don’t really have a choice.”
“Either way,” fro man added. “We have an interview in” – he checked his watch – “five minutes which you obviously can’t speak in.” He gestured to Mikey. “We’ll cover it, you guys try to figure out what’s going on.”
Everyone nodded, and the two left the bus. The short one and the blond one turned to Jaime. She smiled sheepishly.
“So you hate cats?” The short one finally broke the silence. Jaime nodded. “What is wrong with you?” He insisted. Jaime laughed and shrugged. She decided a topic change was in order.
“Honestly, I don’t even know your names,” she said.
“Frank,” the short one offered. The he pointed at the blond one and said “and Bob. The guy with the fro is Ray and the other one is Mikey.” Then he smirked. “You didn’t know our names? Some fan-girl you are.”
She laughed. “If I were a fan-girl I’d be trying to get you out of your pants, which would be awkward, considering…” she waved a hand down at her body.
Bob groaned and covered his eyes. “Ah, bad mental picture.”
“Oh you love it,” Frank laughed.
“So what do we do now?” Jaime asked.
Frank shrugged, “I guess we call the manager, he should know.”
Jaime nodded while Frank pulled out his cell and dialed. He spoke for a few minutes with someone named Brian and from this side of the conversation it was obvious that Brain did not believe him. Finally Frank sighed and held the phone out to her with a mumbled “He wants to talk to you.”
Shyly, she took the phone. “Hello?”
“So Frank tells me you are in fact not Gerard, but Jaime.”
“That’s right.”
“Ok, tell me something. If you’re not Gerard, then where is he?”
Jaime froze, she hadn’t thought about that. “Shit! He’s probably in my body! EW!”
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