FicWad

I stood paralyzed in shock. I was shaking and I could barely breathe. What in the hell was I getting myself into? I so desperately wanted to look at the note, but my heart and head strongly advised me not to. I didn’t know why. Defense mechanism? For the roller coaster from hell? I have to shake this. I need to shake this. C’mon girl, you can do this. Don’t panic. Don’t let fear strangle you. He’s trying to push you away. Don’t fall for it. You can help him. Whatever this is, you can help him. Or at least I could try. That’s what you do when you love someone, right? Love them even when it gets scary? In this case, I guess it’s accurate. I started to attempt not to worry myself with fear and anxiety. Which wasn’t easy. I just wanted to cry. I can’t, I have to be strong. Focus on something else, Chrissy. The show. You have to get ready for the show. It’s in less than 4 hours. I needed to be ready two hours ahead of time. I put the folded note in my coat pocket, so I wouldn’t forget it. Perhaps a shower would clear my head. I dug through my suitcase, selecting what to wear. Finally, what I was doing was simple. It was refreshing. No riddles, and no secrets. Just fabric and seams. I never thought in my life I would take so much comfort in something so simple like picking out clothes. I retrieved skinny jeans, an MCR tank top and my favorite jacket. My jacket was a comfort thing. I wore it to help me get through rough times, cause it has been through everything I have and it makes me feel better. Shoes, I needed shoes. I scanned the room. Converse? Flats? Something told me to wear my chucks, in fear of having to run. I didn’t know why. I set them all on the bed and headed for the bathroom. The steam and hot water did wonders. I felt like I was staying in for forever. I looked to my fingers, which were starting to prune. It didn’t completely melt my fear but it made it subside. I stepped out, put my dirty clothes in the hamper, and got dressed. I felt renewed. This was a good state to be in. The state I needed to be in. I decided it would be a good idea to get pumped up for the show, so I grabbed my ipod and set it to my My Chem playlist. Yes, this will do the trick. I smiled, relieved and slightly alarmed at my chipper mood. I passed it off. In this case I was beginning to think that ignorance was bliss. I was blow-drying my hair when I heard a voice outside the door, screaming my name obnoxiously. I turned the blow dryer off and listened again. Frankie? I shuffled over to the door and opened it. There Frankie and Mikey stood. Frankie practically jumped me with a hug.

“Uh, hi Frankie.” I looked to Mikey, who was calm and quiet, for an answer.

“He just had about fourteen cups of coffee. He was on number eleven when I found him.” Mikey laughed as Frankie detached himself and ran for my bed, diving like a little kid.

“Dear God. Fourteen?”

“Fuck yeah, fourteen!” Frankie yelled out of breath as he was jumping.

“Frank. Stop that.” Mikey said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“Make me!” he laughed uncontrollably. What the hell was going on in my room? Next thing I knew, Mikey had tackled Frankie, and had him in a headlock and giggling.

“So did you need something?”

“I wanna tell her! I wanna tell her!” Frankie plead.

“Promise to be calm?” Mikey asked.

“Yes.” He sounded calm but that adorable kid smile still was there. Mikey let go, and Frankie shook it off.

“At the front desk. There is a box for you. I think it’s from Gerard.”

“I thought so too, I wanted to know if you knew anything about it.”

“No I didn’t. Thanks for telling me.”

“Well, we should go. C’mon Frank.”

“Okayyy, fine. You should go get your package. Or should I say Gerard’s package. HAHAHA! Get it? Gerard’s package!”

“Very funny Frankie.” I said giggling in a sarcastic manner.

“Let’s go Mikey. I’m hungry!”

“Okay, bye Christine.”

“Bye.” I waved as I shut the door for them. A package? From Gerard? I wonder what it is. Well, only one way to find out. I grabbed my computer and put it in my messenger bad and headed for the lobby. I approached the desk and smiled.

“May I help you?” the clerk asked happily.

“Uhm, yes. I was told there was a package for me?”

“Name?” he asked.

“Christine. Christine Matthews.”

“Let’s see here. I got a package delivery earlier.” He roused around behind and under the desk. I waited patiently. I looked at my phone. Two hours till show time. It was about a thirty-minute drive. Just enough time to eat and gather up the guys.

“Ah. Here it is. It has a note attached. I’ll leave you to it. There you are Miss Matthews.” He set it on the counter.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

“No thank you. Have a good night.” My goodbye was distant. I had the box in hand. I quickly went to a private area near the phone booths. There was no telling what was inside this box. The note. I should probably read the note. I set the box down on a table and took a seat. I tore the note from the box carefully, attempting not to rip it. I unfolded it and assumed it was Gerard’s handwriting right away.


“My Silly Little Angel,

You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.
I hope you’re ready for the show.
Cause you’re sure as hell going to get another after it.
Not just any show.
You just may be hanging from a trapeze for your life.
As for me?
I’ll be the one with a top hat and whip.
Meet me at the place I requested exactly one hour dressed in the clothes I am presenting you with in this box.

- Gerard”


AN: So tell me. Did you love it? Did you hate it? Are you begging for more?!