Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > This Is Where It Starts
BABETTE
My Chemical Romance had begun working on their second album, and since switched over to Reprise, a record company own by Warner Brother. But that wasn’t important at the moment.
Gerard and I sat in the living room with the rest of the Way family. Everybody had tears in their eyes at the thought of what had just happened last night. Helena Way had passed away the night before, leaving everybody feeling confused and hopeless.
“I can’t take this right now.” Gerard grumbled bitterly. “Babes, lets go.” He said as he stood up. I followed him to the door silently.
“We’ll call you when we get the funeral arrangements all sorted out.” Donna called after us. Gerard nodded and shut the door.
We got into the car and Gerard just sat there at the steering wheel for a good ten minutes. I stared at the garage door in front of us. Gerard let out a quiet whimper, and then a sharp sob. I turned to find his with his head resting on the wheel. I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him and bit back the tears. I wanted to be strong for him. I wanted him to know he could lean on me.
“I just can’t believe she’s gone…” he choked out, sitting up and wiping his bloodshot eyes. He sniffed and took a deep, shaking breath before starting the car.
“Gerard…I’m so sorry. I know how much you must hate to hear that, but I am.” I said, my voice wobbling on the verge of tears. I hated to see him like this, all wrecked up. I wished that I could take away all his pain.
“I know you are. I am too…I just-.” Gerard stopped to wipe his eyes again as we pulled up to a red light. “I wasted the last year of her life touring and working on the album. I should’ve been with the family. I’ve fucked everything up.” He confessed.
“Gerard, I think she would’ve wanted you to be on tour with the band. She was happy for you, remember? She wanted you and the guys to be successful. I think she’d be proud of all the progress you’re making.” I said, placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.
“You think so?” He asked, a wry and watery smile gracing his lips.
“I know it. Grandparents and parents want their kids to go out and live their lives. She wanted the same for you.” I said honestly. Gerard blinked so say thank you and kept driving.
THE FUNERAL
All decked out in our best black suites and dressed, we pulled up to the church where the Way’s used to attend. It was two days before Thanksgiving and we were all still debating on whether or not to celebrate the holiday at all. There were tons of people filling up all the pews, but the front was reserved for our party. Helena was in a lovely black dress that Gerard had picked out himself. He’d said it was her favorite. Many people were crying very hard, including Mikey and Donna. The rest of the band showed up to support Gerard, who was sitting like a rock, staring at his black Converse high-tops.
“By our heavenly father, we are gathered here today…” The priest began once everybody had visited, looked into the coffin and taken their seats.
Gerard was clutching my knee for dear life and I stroked his hand comfortingly. The preacher rambled on and on and Jesus and God, not uttering Helena’s name once throughout the entire service. Gerard looked angry, upset. There was no comfort in the church what so ever.
About and hour of useless babbling later, everybody filed outside in the rain to follow Helena’s hearse to her final resting-place. We drove in complete silence the entire way there. The only sounds were the car engines and the rain splattering on the metal roof. Once there, everybody surrounded the freshly dug grave and listened to the crock-of-shit preacher go on and on for another thirty minutes. Then we all walked up to her shining black coffin and rested a rose on top of it.
“Come everybody, let’s head home.” Donna mumbled, leading everybody back to the car. Gerard stayed stalk still, staring fixated as they lowered the coffin into the wet earth.
“We’ll catch up with you.” I assured her, placing my hand on Gerard’s arm. Donna nodded and the other’s drove back to the house with numerous other people. Gerard and I stood there, staring at the grave.
“Gerard, are you okay?” I asked after a long silence.
“No, I’m not.” He said simply. “Come on, let’s go.” We drove back to the house to find everybody milling about. It seemed that everybody had brought some sort of food with them and created a towering skyscraper of party platters.
We munched sorrowfully on the crackers provided and chatted with the people who had come to pay respects. But soon night began to fall and the crowd began to dissipate, leaving us alone with our own thoughts.
“I want to go to bed.” Gerard said decidedly. He looked exhausted. His eyes were dry and bloodshot and sunken, even more then they usually were.
“Okay then, lets go to bed.” I said, helping him up and walking with him to the basement.
He changed into so pajamas and lent me so baggy shirt of his before we climbed into his tiny, single bed. He curled up in my arms like a small child, tuckered out from a day of play. And soon, the weight of the day’s events hit us like a ton of bricks and we crashed into sleep like it was a welcomed car wreck.
SOMETIME THAT NIGHT
Gerard shot up out of bed with a blood-curdling yell. I sat up too and flicked the bedside light on. Gerard leaned over the side of the bed and I checked to see if Mikey was still asleep. He was, like a rock.
“Gerard, babe are you okay?” I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder. He was shivering and sweating at the same time. He shook his head fervently. “Come on, lets go get some coffee.” I said, hoisting him up. We walked upstairs and I turned on the coffeepot. Gerard grabbed and paper and pencil and made himself comfortable on the couch.
I sat and waited for the coffee to heat up while Gerard scribbled furiously on the paper. Once the pot was ready I poured him a cup and fixed it just the way he liked it; two sugars, three creams. I walked over to the couch only to find Gerard sleeping peacefully, snoring and everything. I also found the piece of paper he had been writing on. I dumped the coffee in the potted plant on the table and kissed Gerard’s head before picking up the paper.
And written on it was a song called “Helena”…
My Chemical Romance had begun working on their second album, and since switched over to Reprise, a record company own by Warner Brother. But that wasn’t important at the moment.
Gerard and I sat in the living room with the rest of the Way family. Everybody had tears in their eyes at the thought of what had just happened last night. Helena Way had passed away the night before, leaving everybody feeling confused and hopeless.
“I can’t take this right now.” Gerard grumbled bitterly. “Babes, lets go.” He said as he stood up. I followed him to the door silently.
“We’ll call you when we get the funeral arrangements all sorted out.” Donna called after us. Gerard nodded and shut the door.
We got into the car and Gerard just sat there at the steering wheel for a good ten minutes. I stared at the garage door in front of us. Gerard let out a quiet whimper, and then a sharp sob. I turned to find his with his head resting on the wheel. I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him and bit back the tears. I wanted to be strong for him. I wanted him to know he could lean on me.
“I just can’t believe she’s gone…” he choked out, sitting up and wiping his bloodshot eyes. He sniffed and took a deep, shaking breath before starting the car.
“Gerard…I’m so sorry. I know how much you must hate to hear that, but I am.” I said, my voice wobbling on the verge of tears. I hated to see him like this, all wrecked up. I wished that I could take away all his pain.
“I know you are. I am too…I just-.” Gerard stopped to wipe his eyes again as we pulled up to a red light. “I wasted the last year of her life touring and working on the album. I should’ve been with the family. I’ve fucked everything up.” He confessed.
“Gerard, I think she would’ve wanted you to be on tour with the band. She was happy for you, remember? She wanted you and the guys to be successful. I think she’d be proud of all the progress you’re making.” I said, placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.
“You think so?” He asked, a wry and watery smile gracing his lips.
“I know it. Grandparents and parents want their kids to go out and live their lives. She wanted the same for you.” I said honestly. Gerard blinked so say thank you and kept driving.
THE FUNERAL
All decked out in our best black suites and dressed, we pulled up to the church where the Way’s used to attend. It was two days before Thanksgiving and we were all still debating on whether or not to celebrate the holiday at all. There were tons of people filling up all the pews, but the front was reserved for our party. Helena was in a lovely black dress that Gerard had picked out himself. He’d said it was her favorite. Many people were crying very hard, including Mikey and Donna. The rest of the band showed up to support Gerard, who was sitting like a rock, staring at his black Converse high-tops.
“By our heavenly father, we are gathered here today…” The priest began once everybody had visited, looked into the coffin and taken their seats.
Gerard was clutching my knee for dear life and I stroked his hand comfortingly. The preacher rambled on and on and Jesus and God, not uttering Helena’s name once throughout the entire service. Gerard looked angry, upset. There was no comfort in the church what so ever.
About and hour of useless babbling later, everybody filed outside in the rain to follow Helena’s hearse to her final resting-place. We drove in complete silence the entire way there. The only sounds were the car engines and the rain splattering on the metal roof. Once there, everybody surrounded the freshly dug grave and listened to the crock-of-shit preacher go on and on for another thirty minutes. Then we all walked up to her shining black coffin and rested a rose on top of it.
“Come everybody, let’s head home.” Donna mumbled, leading everybody back to the car. Gerard stayed stalk still, staring fixated as they lowered the coffin into the wet earth.
“We’ll catch up with you.” I assured her, placing my hand on Gerard’s arm. Donna nodded and the other’s drove back to the house with numerous other people. Gerard and I stood there, staring at the grave.
“Gerard, are you okay?” I asked after a long silence.
“No, I’m not.” He said simply. “Come on, let’s go.” We drove back to the house to find everybody milling about. It seemed that everybody had brought some sort of food with them and created a towering skyscraper of party platters.
We munched sorrowfully on the crackers provided and chatted with the people who had come to pay respects. But soon night began to fall and the crowd began to dissipate, leaving us alone with our own thoughts.
“I want to go to bed.” Gerard said decidedly. He looked exhausted. His eyes were dry and bloodshot and sunken, even more then they usually were.
“Okay then, lets go to bed.” I said, helping him up and walking with him to the basement.
He changed into so pajamas and lent me so baggy shirt of his before we climbed into his tiny, single bed. He curled up in my arms like a small child, tuckered out from a day of play. And soon, the weight of the day’s events hit us like a ton of bricks and we crashed into sleep like it was a welcomed car wreck.
SOMETIME THAT NIGHT
Gerard shot up out of bed with a blood-curdling yell. I sat up too and flicked the bedside light on. Gerard leaned over the side of the bed and I checked to see if Mikey was still asleep. He was, like a rock.
“Gerard, babe are you okay?” I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder. He was shivering and sweating at the same time. He shook his head fervently. “Come on, lets go get some coffee.” I said, hoisting him up. We walked upstairs and I turned on the coffeepot. Gerard grabbed and paper and pencil and made himself comfortable on the couch.
I sat and waited for the coffee to heat up while Gerard scribbled furiously on the paper. Once the pot was ready I poured him a cup and fixed it just the way he liked it; two sugars, three creams. I walked over to the couch only to find Gerard sleeping peacefully, snoring and everything. I also found the piece of paper he had been writing on. I dumped the coffee in the potted plant on the table and kissed Gerard’s head before picking up the paper.
And written on it was a song called “Helena”…
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