Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Walking Contradictions (Gee/OFC)
The day came, that fateful day. Amelia stared into her bathroom mirror. She still had stitches in the cut on her face, and a few bruises. She had always healed slowly, and at this point in her life she hated that fact more than ever before.
Even make-up couldn’t cover the bruises, and so she decided to leave foundation and opt for some eye makeup. She applied eye-liner allowing it to come out in a sort of spike, then smoky black underneath; simple but effective she thought. Her hair was simple she straightened it, her blue and black fringe falling across her face, and reaching just past her shoulder blades behind. She wasn’t really happy, but it would have to do.
Next she focused on her outfit. She didn’t want to go over the top, or end up looking like a slag. She wore a black tank top, with a black, dark blue and light blue chequered shirt over it, wore skinny jeans on her legs, and a pair of navy blue Converse High-tops. She looked herself over in her long bedroom mirror, overall, quite happy with her appearance, she exited her flat. She stepped into the elevator, taking it to the bottom floor, happily no-one else got on it with her. She then sat on the wall outside her apartment block, and pulled a cigarette from the pocket of her jeans. She shakily lit it, raising it to her lips, taking a drag and staring ahead of her. It was almost midday, so it was moderately warm.
Minutes later her brother pulled up, in his worn out old Chevrolet, she stubbed her cigarette out, and got in the passenger seat, smiling quickly at her older brother.
“Nervous?” He questioned as he pulled away quickly, following the road to the end before taking a left.
“Nah” she answered sarcastically pulling out another cigarette and winding her window down a bit.
Milo simply laughed, taking a cigarette for himself. “We shouldn’t smoke so many of these cancer sticks” he stated, lighting it, and rolling his own window down a fraction.
“We all die. Why not speed along the process a bit?” She simply stated taking another drag as if to emphasize her point.
“True that.” He said with a laugh.
The rest of the half an hour long journey was filled with idle chatter, nothing really too important, but at least something to take her mind off the coming meeting.
“I’m shitting so many bricks, I could build a small mansion,” Amelia commented out of the blue.
“You should really harness that skill of yours,” Milo stated with a laugh.
“Because everyone would want a house made of my shit,” She said, sarcastically taking a drag of her third cigarette.
They soon pulled up outside, ‘Central Bar’ where they would meet the members of My Chemical Romance for the first time. She and brother simply stood outside, Amelia leaned against a wall smoking yet another cigarette, and Milo stood with his hands in his pocket and sunglasses covering his eyes.
Just under ten minutes later everyone was present, and they were being led to a secluded table at the back of the bar. Amelia saw the five men already seated at the table. Her life was instantly made, but she wanted to faint, or run to the toilet, or just run and never come back. You know when you’re so nervous, you start shaking, and you feel sick, imagine that but ten times over.
She took a seat sliding round the comfy sofa, which was circular, and located around a table, leaving enough room for the other three. There was an awkward tension in the air, the kind so thick it cut be cut like soft butter with a blunt knife. Amelia bit the inside of her lips, only speaking when a woman came and asked her what she wanted to drink. A double vodka and coke, she needed something strong, if not she might just die.
“Isn’t it a bit early for that?” said the fluffy haired lead guitarist Ray Toro, with a slight chuckle.
“Especially after last time,” Zac mumbled, causing Amelia to glare at him across the table.
“Last time...” she heard Mikey trail off.
“I fell off a table. And ended up in hospital for three days, that was last week, “she said with a slight nervous laugh.
“That explains the face then,” she dared look out of the corner of her eye at the speaker, Gerard Way, the one she was most nervous around, he looked un-amused, arms folded, leaning back in his seat.
“Looks like you went a few rounds with an angry slag,” Frank remarked with a laugh.
“Don’t be stupid, she couldn’t go that far with herself,” Zac said looking her square in the face.
“You’re an asshole” she spat angrily. Folding her arms and making a ‘humph’ noise.
“We came here to talk about this, competition thing, can we get on with it, I don’t have all day.” It was Gerard again, he sounded slightly pissed off.
“Sorry” Amelia mumbled, with a sigh, as her drink, and everyone else’s arrived.
And so, the two bands sat and talked for around half an hour, about things such as tour dates, and sleeping arrangements; the necessary business stuff. And as Frank was going through the rules of the tour bus...
“We’d prefer it if you don’t bring, umm, partners back, if you get what I mean” he said with a slight grin.
“With her here, that’s never gonna be stuck to,” Zac remarked. Milo looked angry now, but Amelia, slammed one fist on the table cause everyone to look at her. She was shaking angrily.
“I’ve had enough of you,” her words were filled with more venom than the hiss of a cobra. She didn’t care whose way she got in, she climbed over the table and stormed off, out of the bar.
Milo began to stand up, but was stopped.
Amelia, didn’t get far before she pulled her packet of cigarettes shakily out of her pocket, hastily lighting one, and slamming her fist into a wall, something she instantly regretted. She felt a hand on her shoulder “Fuck, off” she spat as she turned round; she instantly wished she could take the words back. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” her eyes were red and puffy from crying widened as she was pulled into a hug. Her body went rigid and she didn’t make a move to hug this man back, she didn’t know him.
As Gerard let go, she stayed in the same position, half her fag had burned away. She quickly snapped out of her confusion, and took a drag. “Sorry,” she whispered trudging off to a nearby patch of green, and plonking her ass down on the grass.
“It’s ok,” he said following her and sitting next to her.
“He drives me fucking crazy, with his little pointless remarks, he was just fucking showing off, trying to make me look small, to boost his own massive ego. He’s such a twat,” she grumbled. Flicking the butt of her cigarette across the grass, then making to pull out another one, but Gerard already held one out. “Cheers, sorry, I’m being a whiney bitch, and I’m probably irritating you,” she said taking the cigarette, and lighting it.
“That shit he said was uncalled for. For all I know, it could be true, but there’s a time and a place,” he stated lighting his own cancer stick, and rubbing his palm across his nose.
“It was true,” she stated looking down.
“Oh?” was all he said before taking a drag.
“But, only true of a teenage me, not me now. He hates me, because I cheated on him, when I was seventeen” She stated, also puffing on her own cigarette.
“Hmm” Was his only response.
“I just wish he would drop it, he makes me so fucking angry,” She said through gritted teeth.
“Tell him then.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried that!?” She said her voice raised “Sorry,” she said almost immediately. “Milo’s told him, and even Sam has said something, he’s so fucking hard headed, he doesn’t listen to anyone.”
“You need to get your hand sorted out.”
“I’m not going back to hospital, I’ll go fucking nuts the mood I’m in.”
For some reason, little more than forty minutes later, her and Gerard ended up back at her flat, and had made her hold a bag full of frozen peas to her swollen fist. Amelia had done her fair share of taking in his features, up close. His hair was short, and blonde, she didn’t quite understand that, she had always known him to have long, crazy black hair. She liked it though, it made him look cute. His eyes were warm and cold at the same time, lined with black make-up and his face had no imperfections that she could spot.
“Sorry,” she said for the millionth time that day.
“Stop saying that, it’s irritating,” he stated bluntly with a smirk. “If you were pissing me off, I wouldn’t be here,” he stated inspecting her kitchen. He was wearing tight black skinny jeans, and red converse, a plain white t-shirt and a leather jacket.
“S...thank you” she stated.
He stayed silent, before going through her drawers, this confused her slightly.
“What you looking for?” she questioned, out of curiosity; she had nothing she needed to hide.
“Bandages, but it would appear you’re a bad girl,” he stated turning around waving a little bag, filled with green leaves.
“I lost that ages ago, thanks,” she said with a laugh. He smirked, before going to put it back “No, leave it out, I’ll dispose of it later,” she said with a wink, “You’re more than welcome to join me,” she added.
“I may take you up on that offer,” he said handing it to her.
“Bandages, top right cupboard, above the coffee machine,” she stated.
He quickly found them, and began to gently wrap her hand up.
“It’s funny, I never had you down as a first aider,” she stated with a slight laugh.
“You don’t know me, you’ve never met me, how could you ‘have me down’ as anything,” he stated, it wasn’t really harsh, but it was blunt.
“True that,” she stated as her phone stated vibrating. She fished it out of her pocket and flipped it up. “Hey Milo...I’m fine...yeah he better be...He did, I’m home now, he’s fixing up my hand...I punched a wall...No, it’s ok...I don’t want to speak to him...Tell him to piss off...Tell him I’ll rip his face off...No...I’ll see you tomorrow....love you too” she flipped the phone down.
“Is he your boyfriend?” Gerard questioned, out of curiosity.
Amelia laughed “My brother,” she stated.
“Oh...well your hands all sorted,” he said, standing up.
“Would you like Spliffage?” She said holding up the bag of weed.
“You roll surprisingly well considering the state of your hand,” Gerard remarked, admiring her work as he held it up.
“I’ve been doing it since I was thirteen, she said walking towards her balcony, unlocking it and stepping outside. “If Chrissie comes home, and the flat stinks of weed, she’ll murder me,” Amelia said, answering his raised eyebrow.
Amelia had smoked weed for a long time, and it never failed to make her happy. Though it was only a temporary solution to her problems, and often left her feeling worse when all the effects had worn off, but it was a good cheap high, that she enjoyed.
Fifteen minutes later, they were what could be described as baked. Amelia, was smiling as she stepped in, ushering him in too. She giggled as she flopped heavily onto the sofa, followed by Gerard.
“Can I call you Gee?” she questioned, lazily laying her arm across his shoulders.
“You can call me whatever you want” he said looping a leather clad arm around her waist, laying his head on her chest. It wasn’t sexual in any way, just friendly.
Then the front door opened.
“Lee I...What in god’s name are you doing hugging Gerard Way on my couch!?” came the shocked voice of her best friend, and flatmate Chrissie.
“Oh hey babe,” Amelia squeaked, with a grin.
“You’re high,” not a question but a statement, Chrissie’s face fell, as she sighed.
“We smoked it on the balcony...” Amelia trailed off.
“He’s high too!?” Chrissie squeaked.
“Heya,” Gerard stated, quietly, gaining a genuine smile from Chrissie.
“Chrissie, lighten up. Its harmless fun,” Amelia piped up.
“You missed out the key word. Illegal, harmless fun,” Chrissie said, sitting on the armchair to the left of them, flicking her brunette curled hair over her shoulder.
“Chrissie I...” Amelia was cut off.
“No it’s ok, it’s just I know, what it does to people, it fucked up my dad. He’s pretty much insane now, because of it. And I know its fun, I’ve been your best friend for a long time...” she was cut off by a phone.
It was Gerard’s “Hello...shit...You’ll need to pick me up I...” he was cut off.
“Stay here.”
He turned to look at Amelia and mouthed the words ‘you sure?’ She nodded. “No it’s ok; Amelia said I can stay here... See you tomorrow Mikey,” he closed the phone. “Thank you” he said hugging her again. She liked him when he was high. He was less tense. And he was more open. She smiled, and hugged him back.
Authors note. I know nothing about the layout of New York. Don’t kill me.
Also, high people, I don’t know what Gerard Way would be like stoned, but I do know people in general. Clingy, giggly and happy. It’s quite amusing really. I also know he’s clean, but for the purposes of my FICTION, he is occasionally a bit of a badman ;D
I also don’t know much about the other members of MCR again; don’t kill me.
Thanks for reading ;D
Even make-up couldn’t cover the bruises, and so she decided to leave foundation and opt for some eye makeup. She applied eye-liner allowing it to come out in a sort of spike, then smoky black underneath; simple but effective she thought. Her hair was simple she straightened it, her blue and black fringe falling across her face, and reaching just past her shoulder blades behind. She wasn’t really happy, but it would have to do.
Next she focused on her outfit. She didn’t want to go over the top, or end up looking like a slag. She wore a black tank top, with a black, dark blue and light blue chequered shirt over it, wore skinny jeans on her legs, and a pair of navy blue Converse High-tops. She looked herself over in her long bedroom mirror, overall, quite happy with her appearance, she exited her flat. She stepped into the elevator, taking it to the bottom floor, happily no-one else got on it with her. She then sat on the wall outside her apartment block, and pulled a cigarette from the pocket of her jeans. She shakily lit it, raising it to her lips, taking a drag and staring ahead of her. It was almost midday, so it was moderately warm.
Minutes later her brother pulled up, in his worn out old Chevrolet, she stubbed her cigarette out, and got in the passenger seat, smiling quickly at her older brother.
“Nervous?” He questioned as he pulled away quickly, following the road to the end before taking a left.
“Nah” she answered sarcastically pulling out another cigarette and winding her window down a bit.
Milo simply laughed, taking a cigarette for himself. “We shouldn’t smoke so many of these cancer sticks” he stated, lighting it, and rolling his own window down a fraction.
“We all die. Why not speed along the process a bit?” She simply stated taking another drag as if to emphasize her point.
“True that.” He said with a laugh.
The rest of the half an hour long journey was filled with idle chatter, nothing really too important, but at least something to take her mind off the coming meeting.
“I’m shitting so many bricks, I could build a small mansion,” Amelia commented out of the blue.
“You should really harness that skill of yours,” Milo stated with a laugh.
“Because everyone would want a house made of my shit,” She said, sarcastically taking a drag of her third cigarette.
They soon pulled up outside, ‘Central Bar’ where they would meet the members of My Chemical Romance for the first time. She and brother simply stood outside, Amelia leaned against a wall smoking yet another cigarette, and Milo stood with his hands in his pocket and sunglasses covering his eyes.
Just under ten minutes later everyone was present, and they were being led to a secluded table at the back of the bar. Amelia saw the five men already seated at the table. Her life was instantly made, but she wanted to faint, or run to the toilet, or just run and never come back. You know when you’re so nervous, you start shaking, and you feel sick, imagine that but ten times over.
She took a seat sliding round the comfy sofa, which was circular, and located around a table, leaving enough room for the other three. There was an awkward tension in the air, the kind so thick it cut be cut like soft butter with a blunt knife. Amelia bit the inside of her lips, only speaking when a woman came and asked her what she wanted to drink. A double vodka and coke, she needed something strong, if not she might just die.
“Isn’t it a bit early for that?” said the fluffy haired lead guitarist Ray Toro, with a slight chuckle.
“Especially after last time,” Zac mumbled, causing Amelia to glare at him across the table.
“Last time...” she heard Mikey trail off.
“I fell off a table. And ended up in hospital for three days, that was last week, “she said with a slight nervous laugh.
“That explains the face then,” she dared look out of the corner of her eye at the speaker, Gerard Way, the one she was most nervous around, he looked un-amused, arms folded, leaning back in his seat.
“Looks like you went a few rounds with an angry slag,” Frank remarked with a laugh.
“Don’t be stupid, she couldn’t go that far with herself,” Zac said looking her square in the face.
“You’re an asshole” she spat angrily. Folding her arms and making a ‘humph’ noise.
“We came here to talk about this, competition thing, can we get on with it, I don’t have all day.” It was Gerard again, he sounded slightly pissed off.
“Sorry” Amelia mumbled, with a sigh, as her drink, and everyone else’s arrived.
And so, the two bands sat and talked for around half an hour, about things such as tour dates, and sleeping arrangements; the necessary business stuff. And as Frank was going through the rules of the tour bus...
“We’d prefer it if you don’t bring, umm, partners back, if you get what I mean” he said with a slight grin.
“With her here, that’s never gonna be stuck to,” Zac remarked. Milo looked angry now, but Amelia, slammed one fist on the table cause everyone to look at her. She was shaking angrily.
“I’ve had enough of you,” her words were filled with more venom than the hiss of a cobra. She didn’t care whose way she got in, she climbed over the table and stormed off, out of the bar.
Milo began to stand up, but was stopped.
Amelia, didn’t get far before she pulled her packet of cigarettes shakily out of her pocket, hastily lighting one, and slamming her fist into a wall, something she instantly regretted. She felt a hand on her shoulder “Fuck, off” she spat as she turned round; she instantly wished she could take the words back. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” her eyes were red and puffy from crying widened as she was pulled into a hug. Her body went rigid and she didn’t make a move to hug this man back, she didn’t know him.
As Gerard let go, she stayed in the same position, half her fag had burned away. She quickly snapped out of her confusion, and took a drag. “Sorry,” she whispered trudging off to a nearby patch of green, and plonking her ass down on the grass.
“It’s ok,” he said following her and sitting next to her.
“He drives me fucking crazy, with his little pointless remarks, he was just fucking showing off, trying to make me look small, to boost his own massive ego. He’s such a twat,” she grumbled. Flicking the butt of her cigarette across the grass, then making to pull out another one, but Gerard already held one out. “Cheers, sorry, I’m being a whiney bitch, and I’m probably irritating you,” she said taking the cigarette, and lighting it.
“That shit he said was uncalled for. For all I know, it could be true, but there’s a time and a place,” he stated lighting his own cancer stick, and rubbing his palm across his nose.
“It was true,” she stated looking down.
“Oh?” was all he said before taking a drag.
“But, only true of a teenage me, not me now. He hates me, because I cheated on him, when I was seventeen” She stated, also puffing on her own cigarette.
“Hmm” Was his only response.
“I just wish he would drop it, he makes me so fucking angry,” She said through gritted teeth.
“Tell him then.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried that!?” She said her voice raised “Sorry,” she said almost immediately. “Milo’s told him, and even Sam has said something, he’s so fucking hard headed, he doesn’t listen to anyone.”
“You need to get your hand sorted out.”
“I’m not going back to hospital, I’ll go fucking nuts the mood I’m in.”
For some reason, little more than forty minutes later, her and Gerard ended up back at her flat, and had made her hold a bag full of frozen peas to her swollen fist. Amelia had done her fair share of taking in his features, up close. His hair was short, and blonde, she didn’t quite understand that, she had always known him to have long, crazy black hair. She liked it though, it made him look cute. His eyes were warm and cold at the same time, lined with black make-up and his face had no imperfections that she could spot.
“Sorry,” she said for the millionth time that day.
“Stop saying that, it’s irritating,” he stated bluntly with a smirk. “If you were pissing me off, I wouldn’t be here,” he stated inspecting her kitchen. He was wearing tight black skinny jeans, and red converse, a plain white t-shirt and a leather jacket.
“S...thank you” she stated.
He stayed silent, before going through her drawers, this confused her slightly.
“What you looking for?” she questioned, out of curiosity; she had nothing she needed to hide.
“Bandages, but it would appear you’re a bad girl,” he stated turning around waving a little bag, filled with green leaves.
“I lost that ages ago, thanks,” she said with a laugh. He smirked, before going to put it back “No, leave it out, I’ll dispose of it later,” she said with a wink, “You’re more than welcome to join me,” she added.
“I may take you up on that offer,” he said handing it to her.
“Bandages, top right cupboard, above the coffee machine,” she stated.
He quickly found them, and began to gently wrap her hand up.
“It’s funny, I never had you down as a first aider,” she stated with a slight laugh.
“You don’t know me, you’ve never met me, how could you ‘have me down’ as anything,” he stated, it wasn’t really harsh, but it was blunt.
“True that,” she stated as her phone stated vibrating. She fished it out of her pocket and flipped it up. “Hey Milo...I’m fine...yeah he better be...He did, I’m home now, he’s fixing up my hand...I punched a wall...No, it’s ok...I don’t want to speak to him...Tell him to piss off...Tell him I’ll rip his face off...No...I’ll see you tomorrow....love you too” she flipped the phone down.
“Is he your boyfriend?” Gerard questioned, out of curiosity.
Amelia laughed “My brother,” she stated.
“Oh...well your hands all sorted,” he said, standing up.
“Would you like Spliffage?” She said holding up the bag of weed.
“You roll surprisingly well considering the state of your hand,” Gerard remarked, admiring her work as he held it up.
“I’ve been doing it since I was thirteen, she said walking towards her balcony, unlocking it and stepping outside. “If Chrissie comes home, and the flat stinks of weed, she’ll murder me,” Amelia said, answering his raised eyebrow.
Amelia had smoked weed for a long time, and it never failed to make her happy. Though it was only a temporary solution to her problems, and often left her feeling worse when all the effects had worn off, but it was a good cheap high, that she enjoyed.
Fifteen minutes later, they were what could be described as baked. Amelia, was smiling as she stepped in, ushering him in too. She giggled as she flopped heavily onto the sofa, followed by Gerard.
“Can I call you Gee?” she questioned, lazily laying her arm across his shoulders.
“You can call me whatever you want” he said looping a leather clad arm around her waist, laying his head on her chest. It wasn’t sexual in any way, just friendly.
Then the front door opened.
“Lee I...What in god’s name are you doing hugging Gerard Way on my couch!?” came the shocked voice of her best friend, and flatmate Chrissie.
“Oh hey babe,” Amelia squeaked, with a grin.
“You’re high,” not a question but a statement, Chrissie’s face fell, as she sighed.
“We smoked it on the balcony...” Amelia trailed off.
“He’s high too!?” Chrissie squeaked.
“Heya,” Gerard stated, quietly, gaining a genuine smile from Chrissie.
“Chrissie, lighten up. Its harmless fun,” Amelia piped up.
“You missed out the key word. Illegal, harmless fun,” Chrissie said, sitting on the armchair to the left of them, flicking her brunette curled hair over her shoulder.
“Chrissie I...” Amelia was cut off.
“No it’s ok, it’s just I know, what it does to people, it fucked up my dad. He’s pretty much insane now, because of it. And I know its fun, I’ve been your best friend for a long time...” she was cut off by a phone.
It was Gerard’s “Hello...shit...You’ll need to pick me up I...” he was cut off.
“Stay here.”
He turned to look at Amelia and mouthed the words ‘you sure?’ She nodded. “No it’s ok; Amelia said I can stay here... See you tomorrow Mikey,” he closed the phone. “Thank you” he said hugging her again. She liked him when he was high. He was less tense. And he was more open. She smiled, and hugged him back.
Authors note. I know nothing about the layout of New York. Don’t kill me.
Also, high people, I don’t know what Gerard Way would be like stoned, but I do know people in general. Clingy, giggly and happy. It’s quite amusing really. I also know he’s clean, but for the purposes of my FICTION, he is occasionally a bit of a badman ;D
I also don’t know much about the other members of MCR again; don’t kill me.
Thanks for reading ;D
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