Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Sing Like A Girl!
An hour later, Ray walked into the studio, head hung low. Why, why is it always like this? he thought with a melancholy sniffle. He tried; he'd held out for three days. Ray cringed.
Three days? Doesn't sound so impressive anymore, surrounded by four other guys who support you regardless of what you do.
He paused outside of Studio Three, feeling like an intruder, or a homeless person who had wandered in by mistake. He casually glanced through the one way window.
Gerard was singing, one hand over his right ear so he could hear himself. Frank was flailing around wildly while Mikey sat on a stool with his bass. Bob was doing full set drumrolls, grinning like a maniac. And...and that girl, that woman. She was playing Ray's guitar gingerly, almost as if she didn't want to break it.
Ray snorted. That's how it should be, bitch. No, no! What was he thinking? She wasn't the root of his problems...
Ray groaned, slamming his head into the hallway wall and bringing the hangover headache back to life. He looked back into the studio out of the corner of his eye, reading Gerard's lips.
"Defiant to the end we hear the call--"
Ray smiled weakly. The Black Parade. What a concept album. With the new outfits and shenanigans they had planned, it was supposed to be their best CD ever released.
Yet here he was, in a hallway, watching his best friends in the world record. Without him. Ray sniffled again as a young man wandered past.
"Hey, you Ray Toro?" the young man asked.
"Yeah what?" Ray snapped.
The boy took a step backwards. "They...they want you in there as soon as their song is over." he mumbled, casting Ray a fearful glance as he scurried away.
Ray dragged a hand down his face.
"Dammit."
&&&*&
"Caarry oonnnnnnn..." Gerard's voice wavered a bit at the end.
Frankie shot him a grin. "Ups! Somebody's gettin' too old!" he teased. The recording studio door creaked open as Gerard pounced on Frank.
"Sober?" Bob asked as Ray slunk in.
"Yes, I'm fucking sober." Ray sighed. Rayne handed him his guitar without a word, re-adjusting the mic stand.
"Oh I can't sing." Ray mumbled, stuck suddenly with shame. Rayne raised an eyebrow.
"What were you doing out in the bus?"
Mikey burst into a fit of giggles as Ray narrowed his eyes.
"Sleeping, potentially overdosing on Advil, drinking Gator-fucking-aid. You guys have any fun?" he asked venomously, slinging his strap around and adjusting the length. Gerard stopped laughing long enough to explain.
"Rayne, when Ray drinks, the alcohol, depending on how much...it screws up his vocal cords." Gerard said. Rayne's eyebrow rose even higher, disappearing into her strangely Toro-similar curls.
"So you're saying fluffball over here fucked himself?"
Frank squealed in mirth, rolling over and holding his stomach as he giggled madly.
"B...basically." Gerard said somewhat hesitantly as Ray shot him a glare. Ray returned to tuning his guitar, muttering murder under his breath in Portuguese.
"Care to repeat that?" Rayne asked, being a smartass.
Ray whirled angrily. "Eu odeio-te! Você nem me conhecem, quem é você para julgar?!" he yelled in her face.
Everything fell silent as they glared at each other. Ray wore a smirk, because he thought that Rayne couldn't understand him.
"Estou a sua marca-nova consciência. Parar bitching e começar a ficar limpa." Rayne said calmly, helping Frank get to his feet. "Ah, e você cantar como uma menina."
Ray snarled, shoving Rayne roughly. "Você não pode dizer-me o que fazer, você bitch! Eu não cantar como uma menina, que você acabou de cantar como um guy!" he raged.
Rayne gave him a sad smile that seemed to make Ray want to curl up and die. "É mais seguro assim. Guys não obtiver violadas."
...What?
"We gonna' play this or what? Ray, take the chair. I know you can't solo, but we can always graft it in later." Gerard said kindly, breaking up the heated Portuguese debate.
I hate you so much! You don't even know me; who are you to judge?!
I'm your brand-new conscience. Stop bitching and start getting clean. Oh, and you sing like a girl.
You can't tell me what to do, you bitch! I don't sing like a girl, you just sing like a guy!
It's safer that way. Guys don't get raped.
Ray shook his head as Frank started playing 'House of Wolves'. Raped?
Three days? Doesn't sound so impressive anymore, surrounded by four other guys who support you regardless of what you do.
He paused outside of Studio Three, feeling like an intruder, or a homeless person who had wandered in by mistake. He casually glanced through the one way window.
Gerard was singing, one hand over his right ear so he could hear himself. Frank was flailing around wildly while Mikey sat on a stool with his bass. Bob was doing full set drumrolls, grinning like a maniac. And...and that girl, that woman. She was playing Ray's guitar gingerly, almost as if she didn't want to break it.
Ray snorted. That's how it should be, bitch. No, no! What was he thinking? She wasn't the root of his problems...
Ray groaned, slamming his head into the hallway wall and bringing the hangover headache back to life. He looked back into the studio out of the corner of his eye, reading Gerard's lips.
"Defiant to the end we hear the call--"
Ray smiled weakly. The Black Parade. What a concept album. With the new outfits and shenanigans they had planned, it was supposed to be their best CD ever released.
Yet here he was, in a hallway, watching his best friends in the world record. Without him. Ray sniffled again as a young man wandered past.
"Hey, you Ray Toro?" the young man asked.
"Yeah what?" Ray snapped.
The boy took a step backwards. "They...they want you in there as soon as their song is over." he mumbled, casting Ray a fearful glance as he scurried away.
Ray dragged a hand down his face.
"Dammit."
&&&*&
"Caarry oonnnnnnn..." Gerard's voice wavered a bit at the end.
Frankie shot him a grin. "Ups! Somebody's gettin' too old!" he teased. The recording studio door creaked open as Gerard pounced on Frank.
"Sober?" Bob asked as Ray slunk in.
"Yes, I'm fucking sober." Ray sighed. Rayne handed him his guitar without a word, re-adjusting the mic stand.
"Oh I can't sing." Ray mumbled, stuck suddenly with shame. Rayne raised an eyebrow.
"What were you doing out in the bus?"
Mikey burst into a fit of giggles as Ray narrowed his eyes.
"Sleeping, potentially overdosing on Advil, drinking Gator-fucking-aid. You guys have any fun?" he asked venomously, slinging his strap around and adjusting the length. Gerard stopped laughing long enough to explain.
"Rayne, when Ray drinks, the alcohol, depending on how much...it screws up his vocal cords." Gerard said. Rayne's eyebrow rose even higher, disappearing into her strangely Toro-similar curls.
"So you're saying fluffball over here fucked himself?"
Frank squealed in mirth, rolling over and holding his stomach as he giggled madly.
"B...basically." Gerard said somewhat hesitantly as Ray shot him a glare. Ray returned to tuning his guitar, muttering murder under his breath in Portuguese.
"Care to repeat that?" Rayne asked, being a smartass.
Ray whirled angrily. "Eu odeio-te! Você nem me conhecem, quem é você para julgar?!" he yelled in her face.
Everything fell silent as they glared at each other. Ray wore a smirk, because he thought that Rayne couldn't understand him.
"Estou a sua marca-nova consciência. Parar bitching e começar a ficar limpa." Rayne said calmly, helping Frank get to his feet. "Ah, e você cantar como uma menina."
Ray snarled, shoving Rayne roughly. "Você não pode dizer-me o que fazer, você bitch! Eu não cantar como uma menina, que você acabou de cantar como um guy!" he raged.
Rayne gave him a sad smile that seemed to make Ray want to curl up and die. "É mais seguro assim. Guys não obtiver violadas."
...What?
"We gonna' play this or what? Ray, take the chair. I know you can't solo, but we can always graft it in later." Gerard said kindly, breaking up the heated Portuguese debate.
I hate you so much! You don't even know me; who are you to judge?!
I'm your brand-new conscience. Stop bitching and start getting clean. Oh, and you sing like a girl.
You can't tell me what to do, you bitch! I don't sing like a girl, you just sing like a guy!
It's safer that way. Guys don't get raped.
Ray shook his head as Frank started playing 'House of Wolves'. Raped?
Sign up to rate and review this story