Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Tour

The Show

by blue-flame 1 review

Wheat and weird names.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Humor,Romance - Characters: Bob Bryar - Published: 2009-05-02 - Updated: 2009-05-02 - 2054 words

I woke up warm and content to Bob planting kisses along my neck. Turning round to face him I kissed the tip of his nose.

“Mornin’ darlin’” Bob drawled, pulling me closer. “I hate to wake you but we gotta leave in an hour.”

“Do we have to?” I mumbled into his chest.

“Fraid so. I’m going to have a shower.” As he went to get out from under the king size silk sheets I held him down.

“Do you think it’s a good idea for me to be here when the guys come and get you?”

Bob paused, thinking it over as I sat up and leant on one arm. “You have a point. Get dressed and I’ll check the coast is clear. I expect Os will want to know why you didn’t sleep in your own room.” Bob swung out of the bed and I wolf whistled as his nakedness. He disappeared into the bathroom and I heard the sound of running water. Getting up I threw on my discarded cloths and grabbed the card to my room.

Bob was looking out of the door, a towel covering his modesty. I snuck up behind him and wrapped my arms around his trim waist. “Coast’s clear.” He turned around and gave me a quick peck on the lips before I had a final quick glance down the corridor and made a bee line for the lift.

When I got to my room, I slowly opened the door encase Os was still asleep. As I walked in, the room was empty. The curtains were still open and the bed was untouched. The sly dog! Os got some! Haha. Taking advantage of the empty room I grabbed some clean cloths and went to wash away last nights sins.

After I showered and packed it was 8.55am and Os still wasn’t back. Glad she hadn’t unpacked anything; I grabbed our stuff and made my way down to check out. Ray and Bob were at the receptionist desk handing over their key cards. Walking up to Bob I nudged his hip, earning me a smile.

“Have you seen Os? She wasn’t in the room.” Bob shook his head as Ray attempted to flirt with the Receptionist.

“Her and Frank are in the bus with Gerard and Mikey. Just hooking up the Beast and then were off.”
Handing my swipe over to the receptionist I found Bob’s hand. He smiled as we headed of to the bus, Ray in tow.

Once we got to the venue, the guys headed off for interviews and sound check. Os had a hangover and spent most of the day in her bunk asleep whilst I went exploring. It still can’t get used to being part of the crowd again. There’s always someone watching you or trying to get an autograph in the UK. We’ve only had one series and a book, but as usually it’s our personal life’s that their more interested in. I enjoyed my own company most of the day, before going to find Os in time for the guys set.


The show that evening was incredible as ever, resulting in Bob destroying his wrists, again. Os was still acting weird though. This was more than a hangover. It can’t be to do with Frank if Os’ upturned collar on her polo shirt is anything to go by. Looks like Franks been making his territory. I tried to grab her as the guys got of stage but she disappeared, presumably back to the bus.

As I trudged back through the crowds whilst the band did a signing, I spotted Beasts door was ajar. Creeping over I knelt by the wheel, trying to listen to what was going on in the van.

“I miss you too.” Os said quietly. After a pause she spoke again.

“Yeah its great over hear. It’s nice to be normal for a change. How’s the Parrot?”

Must be calling her Dad. They were quite close, at least when it came to talking about life and such. Mr Jones was laid back and always had time to listen. If it wasn’t for him telling Os to do what she wanted in life, she’s be working in some stupid factory like her Mum wanted and not gone to college.

“Good. I can’t wait to get back behind my hob.” I think we both need to cook something soon. It’s nice to have a break, but you miss the satisfaction of cooking your own meal.

“I only just checked my old sim card. He left a bunch of voicemails and texts.” Not that jerk again. Should have guessed. No wonder she’s been quiet.

“I’m not! It wouldn’t bother me if he curled up and died a slow painful death. Look, I have to go but I’ll call you later in the week. Say hi to Mum for me.” Os’ voice cracked a little at that and I didn’t miss the barley audible sniff.

“You too, bye.” The van remained quite after that so I backed up and slunk back into the tour bus, deciding to confront her later when she’s calmer.


I didn’t see Os for the rest of the evening. Frank went out to the van to get her whilst I was in the shower. It’s not safe to be in the Beast when it’s on the tow bar and we had a five hour drive tonight. Os spent the night holed up in her bunk. The light was out when I went to check on her so I guess she was catching up on sleep despite sleeping all day.

Gerard, Mikey and Ray grabbed some food from catering and went to their bunks when they got back to the bus. After my shower Mark was pulling the bus out of the park and only Bob was up watching TV, hands resting on a cushion in his lap.

“How’s the hands?” I put a pot of coffee on, fishing out a clean mug. I would love to know who does all the washing up when we aren’t here.

“They’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just a bit stiff.” He winced as he tried to flex is fingers. Walking over to the table I picked up the new copy of Rolling Stone, pausing as an idea came to me.

“Do you have a microwave on here?”

“Yeah, behind the second high cupboard from the door.” Perfect. Disguarding the magazine, I went to my bunk and pulled a long sock out of my bag. Walking back into the kitchen area, I rummaged around for lentils or soy. Pulling out a bag of wheat I filled the sock up and tied the top. Putting it in the microwave for 3 minutes, I leant against the worktop as Bob eyed me quizzically.

“Hungry for cheesy wheat? Cause we do have cheese in the fridge you know.”

“Quiet you, wait and see.” I grabbed the magazine up and pointed it at him in mock threat before opening it.

“Yes Ma’am.” Bob saluted, wincing and turned back to watch TV, an old Little Britain on BBC America, whilst I flicked through the coverage of the tour. MCR got a great review, like they would ever get a bad one. Of course I am totally unbiased… At the ding I got my make shift heat pack from the microwave. Gingerly picking it up, the temperature was just about right.

I walked over to Bob and rested my wheaty sock on top of his wrists. “The heat will help ease the inflammation in your joints, and help relax you.”

“Hm that does feel good. I always ice it. Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong.”

“Maybe.” I sat next to Bob and we watched Little Britain in silence apart from the odd burst of laughter.

As the credits rolled the next program info flashed on screen. ‘Up next, Two Girls in a Campervan.’

Oh shit. Bob can’t see us! Jerking up from where I was resting against Bobs shoulder, I reached for the remote on the floor but Bob kicked it out of my way.

“Leave it; I want to see how well you two can cook.”

Oh. Shit.

“How’d you know?” I stared at a perfectly calm Bob who just chuckled and pulled me into him.

“Shh, watch now, talk later.” He kissed my cheek as we settled down to watch me on TV.

It was our second episode. We were trying to make the best burgers, mine being vegetarian, and Os’ beef. We travelled to Scotland to get the best Aberdeen Angus then to a local farm for everything for my burger. Os won. It’s weird seeing Os with long hair, even though she only cut it when we came over here. Bob sat transfixed to the screen, laughing softly every now and then. As the credit’s rolled I sat with baited breath, waiting for Bob to speak.

“Can you make us burgers tomorrow please? They look incredible.” I turned around and crossed my legs Indian style so I was sat facing Bob on the sofa.

“S-sure. Um. Aren’t you mad we lied to you?” Bob shifted to face me more and moved the cooling wheaty sock under his wrists.

“I knew you were from the start. I already called Os on it. Id rather you told us up front, but I can see why you didn’t. Not that I believe half the stuff I’ve read.”

“It’s really not what it seems. It’s just complicated.” I leant sideways to rest my head on the back of the sofa

“If you want to talk about it, I’m here and everyone else is asleep. But I respect your privacy so don’t feel you need to explain yourself.”

“No, id rather you now the truth than listen to anything on the internet. I came over here to escape the media ‘cause I funded my brother’s drug use. Zeb smoked weed for a while, but when he went to Uni, got in with some guys who did coke. Then that lead on to heroin. He kept asking Mum and Dad for money after he used up all his student loan. They didn’t know. He started owing his dealer, and after he got the crap beaten out of him, came to me. I didn’t want Mum and Dad to suffer because of him. And I didn’t want him to resort to crime to get the money he needed and he promised to get help once he’d paid off his debts. So I gave him enough to cover his dept and a little extra to cover his rent for a few months. Then a few weeks later he called me asking for more money. Like an idiot I believed his promises to get clean and it was ‘the last time’. Eventually he got caught and is currently a guest of her majesty the Queen. Got eighteen months and is on a detox program. But of course the tabloids in the UK had a field day making up all kinds of shit. My so called friends all sold their ‘true’ storey to the highest bidder. I’m glad Zeb got sentenced. His family don’t count for anything; maybe a stint in prison will sort him out.”

After a minute Bob spoke for the first time since my speech. “Why did you parents choose such weird names?”

“Excuse me?” I sat up straight and stared at the drummer. I air my dirt laundry and all he can say is I have a weird name!?

“Yardley, Zeb. Not exactly found in the top ten baby names.” Bob grinned at me.

“Call me that and I will smash your guitar hero controller through your bass drum.”

“I prefer Brier anyway. Way cooler.” Bob smiled wide as took hold of both my hands.

“Come on, both of need some sleep.” Bob pulled me up and lead me through to the bunk room. My sock and cushion disguarded on the floor, wheat spilt everywhere.
Sign up to rate and review this story