Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Lines Of Dust and Sweat
Mikey was sitting on a chair near the corner of the room, watching both Gerard and Britney with surveying eyes. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Britney hated being with them during practice but Mikey wouldn’t let her out of his sight.
“Why is she still here?” Bob asked when Britney excused herself to use the bathroom. “Didn’t you guys break up or whatever?”
He directed his question to Mikey who rolled his eyes.
“I wanted her to leave a month ago.” He quickly sat up from his slouched position. “We could just run now and leave her in there.”
“Mikey stop.”
Gerard said half heartedly as he scribbled something down on a piece of paper.
“Why do we need her here? She’s not doing anything for us.” Mikey reasoned.
He heard his brother sigh and Gerard looked up at his band mates. “You guys want her gone?” His hazel eyes scanned their faces.
“Well, she is just taking up space.” Ray spoke.
“I vote her out.” Bob shrugged as Gerard looked at him.
“Frankie?”
Frank strummed a few notes on his guitar before answering. “Bros before hoes dude.”
Gerard eyes rolled as his nose twitched. “Fine, I’ll talk to her.”
“Mikey, are you okay?”
Ray placed his hand on Mikey’s shoulder after he shivered violently.
“It’s okay.” He insisted. “I’m just getting over a cold.”
He looked at the faces in the car. “Gee’s still out there?” He asked turning his head toward the back window. Gerard and Britney were shaking their hands and once they pulled apart, Gerard quickly stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“He’s coming back now.” Frank noted.
Mikey caught Britney entering her car and once she caught his gaze, she blew him a kiss before driving off the parking lot. The car door slid open and shut and Gerard sat next to Mikey.
“She’s out of our lives with only one week left of the tour.” He announced, his fingers pushing back his black stringy hair away from his eyes.
Frank let out a short yell “What? Too much?” He asked when he caught the band staring at him.
The guys started to the laugh while the van started to pull out of the parking lot. They hadn’t laughed together like this in a couple of weeks; ever since Britney tagged along. Mikey was happy she was gone and he felt as if weight was lifted off of him until he caught a glimpse of the plastic bag peaking out of Gerard’s pocket. He was silent as the rest of the band started to joke around, shivering slightly. Gerard laughed loudly, his sides shaking at one of Bob’s stupid jokes when the packet fell unnoticed.
“Mikey, sit down. You’re making me nervous.” Bob said as he watched the younger man pace in front of him.
“I’m waiting until Gerard gets here.”
Mikey’s eyes twitched when he stopped pacing. The door had opened to Mikey’s motel room and Gerard had entered, taking off the dark sunglasses that were too big for his face.
“What is this? A band meeting?” He asked as he placed a paper bag on a desk.
Once it hit the wood, a small metallic ting was heard between the guys. Mikey sighed deeply. “No, it’s an intervention.”
“An intervention?” Gerard repeated.
Ray nodded.
“You’re drinking is getting out of control man.” Bob noted as he looked over to the paper bag which contained an open beer can.
“It’s just beer.” Gerard assured.
“And whiskey.” Mikey added.
“And vodka.” Frank chimed.
Gerard started to stare at his so called friends ganging up on him. “I could stop at anytime.” He insisted.
“But you don’t try!” Mikey’s voice was high, almost a whine.
Gerard turned to look at his younger brother, tears welling up in his eyes. Mikey has the fucking nerve to cry?! He’s no better than me.
His hazel eyes were narrowed at Mikey and only Ray caught his attention.
“Gerard!”
Gerard was slightly shaking from rage as he turned to face Ray. Ray held a small plastic bag that held white dust.
“I found this in the van. Mikey told us how you got it. A whole month without telling us! We’re your band mates; you’re supposed to talk to us. Aren’t you getting this?”
Ray waved his right hand in front of Gerard’s face when he saw the indifferent expression hadn’t changed.
“Yeah. The thing that I don’t get is if we’re a band why Mikey didn’t tell us when he was using for over 6 months.”
Everyone’s eyes were now on Mikey as he continued to stare at his brother.
“Mikey, is it true?” Ray asked. Mikey felt their eyes burning into him even though he couldn’t see them.
“Okay yes!” Mikey shouted, standing up from the bed he was sitting on. He scratched at itch and he was convinced that if the guys hadn’t stared, he didn’t need to scratch. “But I’m clean now. Have been for a month!”
“I can’t fucking believe this.” Frank muttered loudly. “It was Britney, wasn’t it?” Frank made his way over to Mikey and was standing in front of him, infuriated. “That’s what she put into my pocket, wasn’t it?”
Mikey nodded and Frank hit Mikey upside the head. “What the fuck Frank!?” Mikey touched the throbbing side of his head.
“And you?” Frank had turned to Gerard who had been silently laughing while Mikey was being scolded.
“If you knew this was happening, why didn’t you tell us? Did you even try to stop him?” Frankie asked, his finger poking Gerard square in the chest.
Gerard swatted Frank’s arm away and glared down at him. “Down touch me.” He growled. The threat was present in his voice and Frank stood up straight, looking Gerard dead in the eye.
“Frank.” Ray called when Bob pulled Frank away from Gerard.
“I tried to stop him.” Gerard said as Bob sat the younger black haired male on the bed. “It’s not my fault that he’s hardheaded.”
“I’ve stopped.” Mikey claimed, having the urge to stomp his foot but deciding against it.
“How do we know you’re not lying?!” Frank yelled from behind Bob.
“Frank, shut up.” Bob warned as he eyed the brothers. “He’s hardheaded because his brother is.” He said, his eyes moving from Mikey to Gerard and back again. Gerard’s hazel eyes met Bob’s blue ones and he saw how sincere Bob was.
“I’m not hardheaded.” Gee’s reply was now softer than his earlier tone. “I just—” He stalled looking for the right words to make them understand. He sighed deeply when he didn’t find them. “I just wanted to be fun Gerard.”
His heart ached when he heard Frank scoff, saw Ray shake his head slowly and Bob closed his eyes at the statement.
“Who the hell put that bullshit into your head?” Bob asked.
“Britney.” Mikey answered for him, his eyes glued to the floor.
“You don’t need drugs or booze to be anything.” Ray reasoned, his voice hissing on the words ‘drugs’ and ‘booze’.
“The beer’s making us worried.” He heard Frank say.
“Mikey says he’s clean now and once we’re done with touring, he’s going to rehab, right?” Bob stared Mikey down until he looked away and muttered ‘yes’. Gerard looked at Mikey and was surprised to see that his vision was blurred. He blinked away the stray tears and cleared his throat.
“It’s not a problem.” He told his band mates.
“It’s not a problem?” Ray repeated. “So it’s not a problem that you can barely sing when you’re onstage? So it’s not a problem when you can’t make it to practice because you’re trashed? So it’s not a problem that your friends don’t know who you are anymore?!” Gerard waited until Ray stopped screaming, letting his words sink in.
“I—”
“You need help,” Ray interrupted. “And hopefully you’ll go with Mikes to rehab.”
Gerard sighed again and grabbed the paper bag from the desk.
“I have the ability to stop whenever I want.” Gerard had backed into the door and was holding it open. “I’m not an addict and you guys need to mind your own fucking business!” He slammed the motel door shut behind him.
“Why is she still here?” Bob asked when Britney excused herself to use the bathroom. “Didn’t you guys break up or whatever?”
He directed his question to Mikey who rolled his eyes.
“I wanted her to leave a month ago.” He quickly sat up from his slouched position. “We could just run now and leave her in there.”
“Mikey stop.”
Gerard said half heartedly as he scribbled something down on a piece of paper.
“Why do we need her here? She’s not doing anything for us.” Mikey reasoned.
He heard his brother sigh and Gerard looked up at his band mates. “You guys want her gone?” His hazel eyes scanned their faces.
“Well, she is just taking up space.” Ray spoke.
“I vote her out.” Bob shrugged as Gerard looked at him.
“Frankie?”
Frank strummed a few notes on his guitar before answering. “Bros before hoes dude.”
Gerard eyes rolled as his nose twitched. “Fine, I’ll talk to her.”
“Mikey, are you okay?”
Ray placed his hand on Mikey’s shoulder after he shivered violently.
“It’s okay.” He insisted. “I’m just getting over a cold.”
He looked at the faces in the car. “Gee’s still out there?” He asked turning his head toward the back window. Gerard and Britney were shaking their hands and once they pulled apart, Gerard quickly stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“He’s coming back now.” Frank noted.
Mikey caught Britney entering her car and once she caught his gaze, she blew him a kiss before driving off the parking lot. The car door slid open and shut and Gerard sat next to Mikey.
“She’s out of our lives with only one week left of the tour.” He announced, his fingers pushing back his black stringy hair away from his eyes.
Frank let out a short yell “What? Too much?” He asked when he caught the band staring at him.
The guys started to the laugh while the van started to pull out of the parking lot. They hadn’t laughed together like this in a couple of weeks; ever since Britney tagged along. Mikey was happy she was gone and he felt as if weight was lifted off of him until he caught a glimpse of the plastic bag peaking out of Gerard’s pocket. He was silent as the rest of the band started to joke around, shivering slightly. Gerard laughed loudly, his sides shaking at one of Bob’s stupid jokes when the packet fell unnoticed.
“Mikey, sit down. You’re making me nervous.” Bob said as he watched the younger man pace in front of him.
“I’m waiting until Gerard gets here.”
Mikey’s eyes twitched when he stopped pacing. The door had opened to Mikey’s motel room and Gerard had entered, taking off the dark sunglasses that were too big for his face.
“What is this? A band meeting?” He asked as he placed a paper bag on a desk.
Once it hit the wood, a small metallic ting was heard between the guys. Mikey sighed deeply. “No, it’s an intervention.”
“An intervention?” Gerard repeated.
Ray nodded.
“You’re drinking is getting out of control man.” Bob noted as he looked over to the paper bag which contained an open beer can.
“It’s just beer.” Gerard assured.
“And whiskey.” Mikey added.
“And vodka.” Frank chimed.
Gerard started to stare at his so called friends ganging up on him. “I could stop at anytime.” He insisted.
“But you don’t try!” Mikey’s voice was high, almost a whine.
Gerard turned to look at his younger brother, tears welling up in his eyes. Mikey has the fucking nerve to cry?! He’s no better than me.
His hazel eyes were narrowed at Mikey and only Ray caught his attention.
“Gerard!”
Gerard was slightly shaking from rage as he turned to face Ray. Ray held a small plastic bag that held white dust.
“I found this in the van. Mikey told us how you got it. A whole month without telling us! We’re your band mates; you’re supposed to talk to us. Aren’t you getting this?”
Ray waved his right hand in front of Gerard’s face when he saw the indifferent expression hadn’t changed.
“Yeah. The thing that I don’t get is if we’re a band why Mikey didn’t tell us when he was using for over 6 months.”
Everyone’s eyes were now on Mikey as he continued to stare at his brother.
“Mikey, is it true?” Ray asked. Mikey felt their eyes burning into him even though he couldn’t see them.
“Okay yes!” Mikey shouted, standing up from the bed he was sitting on. He scratched at itch and he was convinced that if the guys hadn’t stared, he didn’t need to scratch. “But I’m clean now. Have been for a month!”
“I can’t fucking believe this.” Frank muttered loudly. “It was Britney, wasn’t it?” Frank made his way over to Mikey and was standing in front of him, infuriated. “That’s what she put into my pocket, wasn’t it?”
Mikey nodded and Frank hit Mikey upside the head. “What the fuck Frank!?” Mikey touched the throbbing side of his head.
“And you?” Frank had turned to Gerard who had been silently laughing while Mikey was being scolded.
“If you knew this was happening, why didn’t you tell us? Did you even try to stop him?” Frankie asked, his finger poking Gerard square in the chest.
Gerard swatted Frank’s arm away and glared down at him. “Down touch me.” He growled. The threat was present in his voice and Frank stood up straight, looking Gerard dead in the eye.
“Frank.” Ray called when Bob pulled Frank away from Gerard.
“I tried to stop him.” Gerard said as Bob sat the younger black haired male on the bed. “It’s not my fault that he’s hardheaded.”
“I’ve stopped.” Mikey claimed, having the urge to stomp his foot but deciding against it.
“How do we know you’re not lying?!” Frank yelled from behind Bob.
“Frank, shut up.” Bob warned as he eyed the brothers. “He’s hardheaded because his brother is.” He said, his eyes moving from Mikey to Gerard and back again. Gerard’s hazel eyes met Bob’s blue ones and he saw how sincere Bob was.
“I’m not hardheaded.” Gee’s reply was now softer than his earlier tone. “I just—” He stalled looking for the right words to make them understand. He sighed deeply when he didn’t find them. “I just wanted to be fun Gerard.”
His heart ached when he heard Frank scoff, saw Ray shake his head slowly and Bob closed his eyes at the statement.
“Who the hell put that bullshit into your head?” Bob asked.
“Britney.” Mikey answered for him, his eyes glued to the floor.
“You don’t need drugs or booze to be anything.” Ray reasoned, his voice hissing on the words ‘drugs’ and ‘booze’.
“The beer’s making us worried.” He heard Frank say.
“Mikey says he’s clean now and once we’re done with touring, he’s going to rehab, right?” Bob stared Mikey down until he looked away and muttered ‘yes’. Gerard looked at Mikey and was surprised to see that his vision was blurred. He blinked away the stray tears and cleared his throat.
“It’s not a problem.” He told his band mates.
“It’s not a problem?” Ray repeated. “So it’s not a problem that you can barely sing when you’re onstage? So it’s not a problem when you can’t make it to practice because you’re trashed? So it’s not a problem that your friends don’t know who you are anymore?!” Gerard waited until Ray stopped screaming, letting his words sink in.
“I—”
“You need help,” Ray interrupted. “And hopefully you’ll go with Mikes to rehab.”
Gerard sighed again and grabbed the paper bag from the desk.
“I have the ability to stop whenever I want.” Gerard had backed into the door and was holding it open. “I’m not an addict and you guys need to mind your own fucking business!” He slammed the motel door shut behind him.
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