Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I Find It Hard To Stay
Chapter 21
“But, if you’re interested, I’ve got something a little more fun on the bus,” he winked at her, causing Pen to smile.
?Blocked
Anyone who knew the band personally (as Pen did) would have been able to tell that they were not on top of their game that night. Someone unfamiliar with them would not have noticed a difference, as Gerard still sang amazingly, all the playing was flawless, and they had just enough energy to pass for “excited”. But Pen saw what the others did not: the dull look in Gerard’s eyes, how Frank’s shoulders sagged when he wasn’t playing, how Mikey occasionally lifted his arm to wipe “sweat” from his cheeks and under his eyes. The only unnoticeable differences were in Bob, who didn’t seem to have been fazed by the afternoon’s events, and Ray, who had taken his own advice to heart and was putting his all into his performance. Pen envied his ability to push the bad thoughts to the side while he accomplished what needed to be done in the moment.
She sighed; she couldn’t take this again. She had seen the show way too many times over the past two months, and she didn’t care to watch a sub-par performance, especially knowing that there were important people there, people who could sign them and make MCR big. It turned her stomach knowing that she had caused something so demoralizing for the whole band to happen on the one night that they needed to be on top.
Pen walked out to the stage-door and sat against the wall, not wanting to go in just yet. She leaned her head back and bit back the temptation to let the tears flow. She felt so awful, she couldn’t stand it. If only she could find something that would take her away from it all for one night…
At that moment, the stage door opened and a man walked out, presumably a member of one of the other bands playing the venue that night. He had long, dark, curly hair down his back and was smoking a cigarette.
“Think I could bum one of those?” Pen asked him, looking up. He jumped, then looked down at her.
“Actually,” he said, tossing the spent butt on the ground and grinding it out with his shoe. “That was my last one. Sorry, babe,” he added. “But, if you’re interested, I’ve got something a little more fun on the bus,” he winked at her, causing Pen to smile.
“Is that so?” she asked, standing up and beginning to follow him onto his bus.
“Yeah,” he said, opening the door for her. “I’m Bert, by the way.”
“Pen,” she said, stepping onto the bus and following him to a room all the way in the back of the bus.
She was somewhat disappointed that his “something a little more fun” was only pot, and not coke or even Heroin. Hell, acid would have been a blessing to her at that moment. Still, it was something, and Pen was in no position to turn it down. They did a few hits, got as high as they could off of what he had, and fucked. Pen had long since gotten past caring about trading her body for what she needed; what was sex anyway? An act, a vehicle to be transported from point A to point B. She had done everything there was to be done, and simple intercourse didn’t faze her as it had just two months ago.
As Pen lay beneath Bert, she thought again about how much her life had changed, and how glad she was to have gotten out of her dishwater life back home and fall in with these guys who had helped to bring her out of her shell. Bert finished and rolled over. Pen quickly got out of the bed and began to dress.
“That’s it?” he asked from the bed. “You’re just…gonna leave?”
Pen faked a smile and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Would you like me to stay?”
“Well…Yeah.”
Pen nodded and scooted back under the covers, snuggling up against the man. They cuddled for a while, but pretty soon, Pen’s spooning partner fell asleep, and that was her cue to leave. She hastily dressed, lest he wake up again, pausing at the doorway to glance back at his jacket, discarded on the floor. She picked it up and rifled through the pockets, biting her lip to suppress a smile when she extracted a small bag, filled with white powder. She dropped the jacket and hauled ass out of the bus and back to her own so she could enjoy her prize.
She didn’t even bother remembering the guy’s name.
She ran onto the MCR bus, clutching the small bag in her fist, not bothering to notice anything or anyone else that she passed. That is, until someone had caught her wrist in his hand and wrenched the bag out of her grasp.
“Hey!” she turned to her assailant to see that it was Bob, and he had dropped her wrist to make his way to the garbage disposal in the sink. “NO! No, Bob, don’t! Please! Please! I need that! I fucking need it! Don’t, Bob!” She jumped, clawing at his arms and back as he held her off with one hand and dropped the bag into the disposal with the other. He flipped the switch, and a loud grinding sound broke through Pen’s screams, silencing her. Then, she erupted. “NO! NO! NO! NO! WHAT DID YOU DO! What the fuck! She thrashed about in his arms as he held her fast. “No! Let me go, you traitor! I fucking hate you! You hear me? I fucking hate you!” she spat. Pen finally broke free and tried to run back into Gerard’s room, Frank’s, anywhere but there.
“Hey!” Bob finally spoke, grabbing Pen’s wrist and yanking her back to him. She stared up at him defiantly, jutting her lower lip out.
“What?” she sneered, somewhat satisfied that she had been able to get a rise out of him.
“I only did that because I--”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, because you care about me, right?” She would have crossed her arms if he hadn’t still been gripping her wrist. “You think you know sooooo fucking much about this ‘world of drugs’ you say I’ve entered? Bullshit. What do you know? How if affects the only other two people that you know that are involved in it? Have you failed to realize that it has affected them both completely differently, as it has affected me? It works differently for different people, Bob! Some people can’t handle it, but I can!”
Bob looked at her for a moment without saying anything. “Penelope,” he said quietly, at last. “Do you know why I have my dad’s marbles?” She gave him a confused look and shook her head. “It’s because he’s dead. You say I don’t know anything about what drugs do to a person? How about living my entire life watching my dad shoot up heroin, or snort coke, or take a number of prescription pills that weren’t prescribed to him? Or, maybe it’s watching my mom endure it, never saying a word to anyone else about it, or asking for help because she loved my dad so much? She loved him so much that she couldn’t even bear the thought of someone taking him away from her for any amount of time; rehab or prison, it didn’t matter to her.
“And you know what else? She wasn’t strong enough to leave him. She wasn’t strong enough to see that if she’d have left him, it would have created some incentive for him to get clean. No, she just stood by and let it happen, too in love with him to say a cross word about it, for fear that he would leave her. And eventually, her plan backfired, you know why? Because she ended up staying with him, being an enabler in his digging of his own early grave. He died at 32, when I was 13. My mom killed herself the day before his funeral, because the thought of living in a world without my father in it was just too unbearable to her. I guess she forgot about me.
“Don’t you see, Penelope? Your drug habits don’t just affect your life, it affects the lives of everyone who loves you! I fucking love you, okay? I really fucking do! But I’m not going to make the same mistake my mom made. I love you, but if keeping you safe means pretending I don’t, then fine! So be it.” He let go of Pen’s wrist then, beginning to get lost in his own horrible memories.
“Bob--I…I’m so sorry, I--I had no idea--” Pen found herself tongue-tied.
“It’s fine. Shit happens, I’ve moved on. But I won’t ever forgive myself if something happened to you and I knew there was something I could have done, but didn’t because I was weak.” With that, Bob walked out, leaving Pen alone with the sound of the garbage disposal breaking the silence. She sighed and flipped the switch, silencing the motor.
“Hey, Bob,” she said, making him stop but not turn around.
“What?”
“How did the show go?”
He sighed. “I guess you’d know if you’d have stayed, huh?”
Ooh, we find out a little about Bob's past, huh? Honestly, I was reading over the other chapters and realized that I had made a big deal out of the marble thing, so I had to bring it back. I figured, hey, why not bring it back and advance the story a little bit? It's because I'm awesome, right? And modest. But anyway. So yeah. So go comment, por favor, and do whatever else it is that you do so that I know what you thought. Okay, cool, OverAndOutxx
She sighed; she couldn’t take this again. She had seen the show way too many times over the past two months, and she didn’t care to watch a sub-par performance, especially knowing that there were important people there, people who could sign them and make MCR big. It turned her stomach knowing that she had caused something so demoralizing for the whole band to happen on the one night that they needed to be on top.
Pen walked out to the stage-door and sat against the wall, not wanting to go in just yet. She leaned her head back and bit back the temptation to let the tears flow. She felt so awful, she couldn’t stand it. If only she could find something that would take her away from it all for one night…
At that moment, the stage door opened and a man walked out, presumably a member of one of the other bands playing the venue that night. He had long, dark, curly hair down his back and was smoking a cigarette.
“Think I could bum one of those?” Pen asked him, looking up. He jumped, then looked down at her.
“Actually,” he said, tossing the spent butt on the ground and grinding it out with his shoe. “That was my last one. Sorry, babe,” he added. “But, if you’re interested, I’ve got something a little more fun on the bus,” he winked at her, causing Pen to smile.
“Is that so?” she asked, standing up and beginning to follow him onto his bus.
“Yeah,” he said, opening the door for her. “I’m Bert, by the way.”
“Pen,” she said, stepping onto the bus and following him to a room all the way in the back of the bus.
She was somewhat disappointed that his “something a little more fun” was only pot, and not coke or even Heroin. Hell, acid would have been a blessing to her at that moment. Still, it was something, and Pen was in no position to turn it down. They did a few hits, got as high as they could off of what he had, and fucked. Pen had long since gotten past caring about trading her body for what she needed; what was sex anyway? An act, a vehicle to be transported from point A to point B. She had done everything there was to be done, and simple intercourse didn’t faze her as it had just two months ago.
As Pen lay beneath Bert, she thought again about how much her life had changed, and how glad she was to have gotten out of her dishwater life back home and fall in with these guys who had helped to bring her out of her shell. Bert finished and rolled over. Pen quickly got out of the bed and began to dress.
“That’s it?” he asked from the bed. “You’re just…gonna leave?”
Pen faked a smile and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Would you like me to stay?”
“Well…Yeah.”
Pen nodded and scooted back under the covers, snuggling up against the man. They cuddled for a while, but pretty soon, Pen’s spooning partner fell asleep, and that was her cue to leave. She hastily dressed, lest he wake up again, pausing at the doorway to glance back at his jacket, discarded on the floor. She picked it up and rifled through the pockets, biting her lip to suppress a smile when she extracted a small bag, filled with white powder. She dropped the jacket and hauled ass out of the bus and back to her own so she could enjoy her prize.
She didn’t even bother remembering the guy’s name.
She ran onto the MCR bus, clutching the small bag in her fist, not bothering to notice anything or anyone else that she passed. That is, until someone had caught her wrist in his hand and wrenched the bag out of her grasp.
“Hey!” she turned to her assailant to see that it was Bob, and he had dropped her wrist to make his way to the garbage disposal in the sink. “NO! No, Bob, don’t! Please! Please! I need that! I fucking need it! Don’t, Bob!” She jumped, clawing at his arms and back as he held her off with one hand and dropped the bag into the disposal with the other. He flipped the switch, and a loud grinding sound broke through Pen’s screams, silencing her. Then, she erupted. “NO! NO! NO! NO! WHAT DID YOU DO! What the fuck! She thrashed about in his arms as he held her fast. “No! Let me go, you traitor! I fucking hate you! You hear me? I fucking hate you!” she spat. Pen finally broke free and tried to run back into Gerard’s room, Frank’s, anywhere but there.
“Hey!” Bob finally spoke, grabbing Pen’s wrist and yanking her back to him. She stared up at him defiantly, jutting her lower lip out.
“What?” she sneered, somewhat satisfied that she had been able to get a rise out of him.
“I only did that because I--”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, because you care about me, right?” She would have crossed her arms if he hadn’t still been gripping her wrist. “You think you know sooooo fucking much about this ‘world of drugs’ you say I’ve entered? Bullshit. What do you know? How if affects the only other two people that you know that are involved in it? Have you failed to realize that it has affected them both completely differently, as it has affected me? It works differently for different people, Bob! Some people can’t handle it, but I can!”
Bob looked at her for a moment without saying anything. “Penelope,” he said quietly, at last. “Do you know why I have my dad’s marbles?” She gave him a confused look and shook her head. “It’s because he’s dead. You say I don’t know anything about what drugs do to a person? How about living my entire life watching my dad shoot up heroin, or snort coke, or take a number of prescription pills that weren’t prescribed to him? Or, maybe it’s watching my mom endure it, never saying a word to anyone else about it, or asking for help because she loved my dad so much? She loved him so much that she couldn’t even bear the thought of someone taking him away from her for any amount of time; rehab or prison, it didn’t matter to her.
“And you know what else? She wasn’t strong enough to leave him. She wasn’t strong enough to see that if she’d have left him, it would have created some incentive for him to get clean. No, she just stood by and let it happen, too in love with him to say a cross word about it, for fear that he would leave her. And eventually, her plan backfired, you know why? Because she ended up staying with him, being an enabler in his digging of his own early grave. He died at 32, when I was 13. My mom killed herself the day before his funeral, because the thought of living in a world without my father in it was just too unbearable to her. I guess she forgot about me.
“Don’t you see, Penelope? Your drug habits don’t just affect your life, it affects the lives of everyone who loves you! I fucking love you, okay? I really fucking do! But I’m not going to make the same mistake my mom made. I love you, but if keeping you safe means pretending I don’t, then fine! So be it.” He let go of Pen’s wrist then, beginning to get lost in his own horrible memories.
“Bob--I…I’m so sorry, I--I had no idea--” Pen found herself tongue-tied.
“It’s fine. Shit happens, I’ve moved on. But I won’t ever forgive myself if something happened to you and I knew there was something I could have done, but didn’t because I was weak.” With that, Bob walked out, leaving Pen alone with the sound of the garbage disposal breaking the silence. She sighed and flipped the switch, silencing the motor.
“Hey, Bob,” she said, making him stop but not turn around.
“What?”
“How did the show go?”
He sighed. “I guess you’d know if you’d have stayed, huh?”
Ooh, we find out a little about Bob's past, huh? Honestly, I was reading over the other chapters and realized that I had made a big deal out of the marble thing, so I had to bring it back. I figured, hey, why not bring it back and advance the story a little bit? It's because I'm awesome, right? And modest. But anyway. So yeah. So go comment, por favor, and do whatever else it is that you do so that I know what you thought. Okay, cool, OverAndOutxx
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