Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Skylines and Turnstiles

Chapter 3

by TheForgottenMCRmy 9 reviews

Gerard is starting to get some anwser.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Warnings: [V] [?] - Published: 2011-05-01 - Updated: 2011-05-02 - 1105 words


I'm SO SORRY for the long wait. Plese forgive me. Bright side is I've got this story worked out, so updates will come sooner. Not totally sure when though, I'm leaving for New York City Thursday. :D I'll try though. If I'm very desperate, I'll update on my Ipod. :)


I was on a plane and out of there faster than you could say I-don't-feel-like-making-up-a-word.

I was desperate to find my brother. He'd given me his address, so the only thing left was to

find him, then find Bob and Frank.

Frank. "Oh, Frank Iero- he's the drunken lead singer of Pency Prep." Two things were wrong

with that phrase- the obvious being Frank's aparently an alchoholic. How could he do that to

himself? What about his friends? ... Even his band mates? Shouldn't they care a little at

least? ... Is this how he felt about me?

The second being the words "Pency Prep." It used to be to Frank that when there was Prep, Pency

ALWAYS came before it. And when there was Pency, Prep ALWAYS followed it. In translation,

Pency Prep used to mean everything to Frank. Back when he was drinking fairly often, back

when he wasn't in the band, back when he'd come and watch all our practices, praising us after

every single one.

Maybe he'd had a right to love his band, I mean it was his. But don't get me wrong, it was best

that they broke up. They would all go out drinking together, play a show, and it all seemed

slighty normal. Until one of them says something and pretty soon there all in a huge drunken

fight. Nothing much, just a few stinging words.

Until one night, it got real ugly. Of course, we'd (Ray, Matt, Mikey, and I) had been lucky

enough to acconpany Pencey Prep to some club after their gig. We all drank, but I could still

stand without staggering around (I didn't feel too well that night). We all went back stage,

and a fight broke out. Ray, Mikey, and Matt were too drunk to notice, and merely watched. It

started out simple until somebody through a punch at another, and pretty soon they were beating

the shit out of one another. The band broke up within a week.

Since then, whenever the band was mentioned, Frank made this particular face showing some

emotion I hadn't categorized yet. I was somewhere between fear and anger. To sum it up, that

band was bad news. Even if two of the players called Frank up recently to form Leathermouth.

But they were changed now, and I'd given Frank my approval of what he was doing when he asked

for it.

So why, in my fucked-up alternate universe I'd been placed in, was he still with Pencey Prep? I

had nothing to do with the fight, they'd caused it themselves. So, why hadn't the fight still


I paid the taxi driver and quickly got out of the cab, before jogging up to the front door of

Mikey's house (Which, as much as I hate to note, was rather impressive). A moment later, a

woman with red-brown hair opened the door, a critizizing look on her face.

"So," she said, pressing her lips together, "You must be Gerard."

I couldn't do anything but nod. She opened the door wider and gestured me to come inside.

The inside was quite the eyesight as well. The fron room/living room had a tall ceiling, and a

grand staircase in direct view of the front door. Classy decorations were here and there, along

with a few photographs of Mikey and this girl.

"He should be down in a moment, his band is wrapping up a recording," she said simply as she

wandered off further into the house, leaving me to stand there.

Coming from upstairs I could here what I assumed was a song, even if it was shitty it had some

tune. About 5 minutes later, the noise stopped, a door opened, and 5 pairs of feet stomped and

pounded down the stairs, one of those belonging to my brother.

The members of "My Chemical Romance" were basically anti-versions of the band I've known. They

had cuts visible everywhere on there body, two had bleach-blonde hair, and all four of them,

besides Mikey, had piercing all over there face. I wanted to say, "Forgive me if I look at you

funny, but you just remind me of over-emotional surfer dudes with more piercings than a female

biker gang."

Mikey had grown his hair long again, and, as I've rarely seen it, was wearing haevy eyeliner.

He had a black t-shirt, black jeans, and black sneakers.

"Mikey?" I asked to clarify. (In my defense, I've never seen him like this.)

He laughed bitterly. "What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I need to tell you something. Something important," I told him, "I just need your help."

"So, that's how it is? Forget about me until you need something?"

"It's not like that."

He sighed. "What is it?"

I told him my whole story, using "hypothetically speaking" when nessecary to not freak him out.

When I finished, he stood there, staring at me for a moment.

"So, you're 'friend' tells you he woke up in an alternate universe where everything is

different from the day before?" he inquired.

"Yes. 'He' is not sure where to start to fix this problem," I told him.

"Hm... looks like my experience from my D and D days are finally coming in handy," he said,

mostly to himself. "It sounds like... you're absolutely sure it wasn't just a dream?"


"It sounds like, someone, or something, made this happen. Targeted you, per say, to get

something they or it wants," he said.

"But who would do that? I'm Gerard Way. You either hate me or love me. Even if it's someone who

hates me, why go through the trouble just to fuck up my mind?

"But that's just the thing," Mikey mused, "what if they don't hate you?"

"... You lost me."

"What if they're trying to... get your attention?"

"Well, they've got it."

"No, no, no. I mean... what if this person is your stalker? That loves you enough to create

this world, so you would coming running to them for support?"

I thought it over. No one came to the top of my head, except... no, it couldn't be.

"Odds are whoever that person is, knows about this "real world", but is going along with this

one. So, you've probably encountered them already, or they'll be meeting you real soon."


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