Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
A/N: Hey. Read. Rate. Like?
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Castaway
It was a whirlwind of hands, of fingers, of colors and clothes, hugs and even a few stray tears. People embraced like they'd never see each other again, clamping on tight. A cacophony of voices cascaded over the scene, some shouting, others busting apart laughing.
The crush of human flesh was almost stifling. Gerard could feel his heart beat speeding up, sweat beading up along his palms and hairline. He swiped a dry tongue uselessly across ruddy lips, eyes darting nervously. He didn't do well in crowds. A face he vaguely registered as Tre's popped up for barely an instant and he flashed him what he hoped was more of a congenial grin, less of a grimace.
Suddenly, an iron vice closed over his shoulder, and he was dragged, literally, bodily, from the press of the flesh to one of the fringes. He sucked in a deep breath, turning to his would-be savior, a real grin creeping across his face, warmth pooling in his belly as he recognized the other man. "Billie," He smiled, feeling the tenseness melt away.
"Hey hey hey," Billie Joe Armstrong greeted him, a grin plastered across his mouth, "You looked like you were about to shit in there man. You okay?"
"Uh, yeah," Gerard laughed it off sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, pinking, "Yeah, I'm all good now. Just, it was a lot, y'know? Fucking, it feels weird, with the tour ending and everything..."
"Ah hell," Billie laughed it of, waving him away, "You'll get over it pretty quick, pretty boy. It's one tour in the probably hundreds of thousands you'll do. What's the rub?"
Gerard reddened even further at the 'pretty boy' comment, spluttering awkwardly over his words. He hummed for a moment, refusing to meet Billie's eyes for a moment, before sighing and shaking his head. "I dunno," He grunted, finally just deciding to let the 'pretty boy' thing slide; it wasn't the first time the singer had been blatantly inappropriate. He seemed to thrive on making everyone around him feel uncomfortable for kicks.
"What don't'cha know?" Billie asked, grinning broader, eyes wide and bright, grabbing Gerard's arm and steering him away, "Look, I know this was a big fucking deal for you kids, but trust me, in about three years, when you're selling out arenas, this will've been like midget football to the NFL."
"Umm..." Gerard began, frowning; sports analogies weren't his thing, "I seriously doubt we'll be playing anything this big ever again in our careers. We're just some shit band from Jersey man, and you guys, you're Green Day!"
"And you're My Chemical Romance," Billie countered, laughing, patting Gerard's shoulder gently, "Look, I know what you're thinkin' right now, remember? We were there, that exact same fuckin' place, remember? I know you guys are just happier'en shit to ride out the Three Cheers-Revenge train-thing for right now, and that's cool, but trust me, this isn't the end of My Chemical Romance."
"I never said it was," Gerard began, looking on guiltily; in all honesty, it wasn't all that hard to believe that now with this mega-marathon-tour ended, they'd all just go back to their lives in Jersey.
"Tell ya what," Billie said, grinning mischievously, spinning Gerard around by the shoulders, hands planted firmly there, regarding him at arm's length. They were almost at perfect eye level, "Well, first, look me in the eyes kid."
Gerard, who's head had been down, lifted his head and ruefully met Billie's eyes. He offered him a sullen grin, which Billie returned with a dazzling one of his own.
"A'right, listen up," Billie said, louder, giving him a light shake, "Now, Gerard Way, you're gonna make another record after this one, and it's going to be fucking awesome, do you understand me? You're gonna sell out arenas and be a famous motherfucker, alright? Now, I want you to promise me, you're gonna gimme a call when you finish the next record, yeah?"
Gerard grinned shyly in spite of himself, nodding ever so slightly, like he was almost frightened to admit it to even himself. "Alright, yeah, okay, whatever," He tried to joke it off, biting his lip nervously, eyes hooded.
Billie grinned moronically big, laughing and dropping his grip from Gerard's shoulders, then grabbed his hand, shaking hard, "Well then, keep in touch," Billie Joe , grinning, gripping Gerard's hand tighter, eyes bright, "See you when you kick out that masterpiece record, cool?"
Before Gerard could even respond, the man had dropped his hand and melted back into the crush of band members, crew members, roadies and managers to be swallowed up until he could no longer see him.
Gerard stared after him, "What the fuck?" He muttered under his breath, shaking his head, sighing, "What the fuck?"
---
Alright y'all that's the beginning. Sorry it's so short. Lemme know what you think and I'll update accordingly. Peace.
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Castaway
It was a whirlwind of hands, of fingers, of colors and clothes, hugs and even a few stray tears. People embraced like they'd never see each other again, clamping on tight. A cacophony of voices cascaded over the scene, some shouting, others busting apart laughing.
The crush of human flesh was almost stifling. Gerard could feel his heart beat speeding up, sweat beading up along his palms and hairline. He swiped a dry tongue uselessly across ruddy lips, eyes darting nervously. He didn't do well in crowds. A face he vaguely registered as Tre's popped up for barely an instant and he flashed him what he hoped was more of a congenial grin, less of a grimace.
Suddenly, an iron vice closed over his shoulder, and he was dragged, literally, bodily, from the press of the flesh to one of the fringes. He sucked in a deep breath, turning to his would-be savior, a real grin creeping across his face, warmth pooling in his belly as he recognized the other man. "Billie," He smiled, feeling the tenseness melt away.
"Hey hey hey," Billie Joe Armstrong greeted him, a grin plastered across his mouth, "You looked like you were about to shit in there man. You okay?"
"Uh, yeah," Gerard laughed it off sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, pinking, "Yeah, I'm all good now. Just, it was a lot, y'know? Fucking, it feels weird, with the tour ending and everything..."
"Ah hell," Billie laughed it of, waving him away, "You'll get over it pretty quick, pretty boy. It's one tour in the probably hundreds of thousands you'll do. What's the rub?"
Gerard reddened even further at the 'pretty boy' comment, spluttering awkwardly over his words. He hummed for a moment, refusing to meet Billie's eyes for a moment, before sighing and shaking his head. "I dunno," He grunted, finally just deciding to let the 'pretty boy' thing slide; it wasn't the first time the singer had been blatantly inappropriate. He seemed to thrive on making everyone around him feel uncomfortable for kicks.
"What don't'cha know?" Billie asked, grinning broader, eyes wide and bright, grabbing Gerard's arm and steering him away, "Look, I know this was a big fucking deal for you kids, but trust me, in about three years, when you're selling out arenas, this will've been like midget football to the NFL."
"Umm..." Gerard began, frowning; sports analogies weren't his thing, "I seriously doubt we'll be playing anything this big ever again in our careers. We're just some shit band from Jersey man, and you guys, you're Green Day!"
"And you're My Chemical Romance," Billie countered, laughing, patting Gerard's shoulder gently, "Look, I know what you're thinkin' right now, remember? We were there, that exact same fuckin' place, remember? I know you guys are just happier'en shit to ride out the Three Cheers-Revenge train-thing for right now, and that's cool, but trust me, this isn't the end of My Chemical Romance."
"I never said it was," Gerard began, looking on guiltily; in all honesty, it wasn't all that hard to believe that now with this mega-marathon-tour ended, they'd all just go back to their lives in Jersey.
"Tell ya what," Billie said, grinning mischievously, spinning Gerard around by the shoulders, hands planted firmly there, regarding him at arm's length. They were almost at perfect eye level, "Well, first, look me in the eyes kid."
Gerard, who's head had been down, lifted his head and ruefully met Billie's eyes. He offered him a sullen grin, which Billie returned with a dazzling one of his own.
"A'right, listen up," Billie said, louder, giving him a light shake, "Now, Gerard Way, you're gonna make another record after this one, and it's going to be fucking awesome, do you understand me? You're gonna sell out arenas and be a famous motherfucker, alright? Now, I want you to promise me, you're gonna gimme a call when you finish the next record, yeah?"
Gerard grinned shyly in spite of himself, nodding ever so slightly, like he was almost frightened to admit it to even himself. "Alright, yeah, okay, whatever," He tried to joke it off, biting his lip nervously, eyes hooded.
Billie grinned moronically big, laughing and dropping his grip from Gerard's shoulders, then grabbed his hand, shaking hard, "Well then, keep in touch," Billie Joe , grinning, gripping Gerard's hand tighter, eyes bright, "See you when you kick out that masterpiece record, cool?"
Before Gerard could even respond, the man had dropped his hand and melted back into the crush of band members, crew members, roadies and managers to be swallowed up until he could no longer see him.
Gerard stared after him, "What the fuck?" He muttered under his breath, shaking his head, sighing, "What the fuck?"
---
Alright y'all that's the beginning. Sorry it's so short. Lemme know what you think and I'll update accordingly. Peace.
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