Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Black Parade

Chapter Five

by chloeandeddi 9 reviews

Frank shares his suspicions with Bob.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: R - Genres: Drama - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Published: 2011-06-13 - Updated: 2011-06-13 - 3052 words

1Moving
Gerard's POV

I awoke to dim light battering against my eyelids. I moaned a little and rolled over, hand searching for the woman I loved. “LynZ baby…….…..LynZ?” I didn’t hear the soft murmur of her voice in response, nor feel the brush of her lips on my neck. My eyes shot open. Her side of the bed was bare. In fact, it wasn’t even our fucking bed at all. I sat up and felt a lump grow in my throat as I took in my surroundings. This wasn’t my home. This was my own personal nightmare.

Now, this room was disturbing. Drawings of death covered the walls, each in neat little frames with names penned under them in flowing script. People drowning, children burning, and even a horrifying image of a young teenage boy with crude letters carved all over his skin. I shuddered. Possibly the most scary part of it all was that I recognised these drawings as my work, even though I had no recollection of ever creating such foul horrors.

“Good morning sir.”

I yelped in surprise, and turned in the direction of the voice. A massive vulture stood in the doorway.

“What the fuck?!”

Just when I thought this world couldn’t get any more shocking…..

The vulture blinked at me, clearly surprised.

“Excuse me sir?”

“You’re a vulture. A talking vulture.”

“Yes sir, I am…..”

The bird of pray just stared at me, as if I was completely insane.

How was I the crazy one? How?!

“Sir, are you feeling sound of mind today? Have you had another vision? If you would like to consult Mother War with any concerns you have, I would be more than happy to assist you.”

There was no point in trying to explain just how wrong this all was. Especially to a fucking bird. I mean, seriously? How fucked up could things get?

“No….. it’s alright. Hey, do you know where the rest of …..The Black Parade are?”

I still had trouble saying it, and I spat the words out with distaste.

“Yes sir, I just left them. They are currently eating in the dining hall. Would you like me to wait for you to get dressed and then show you the way?”

“Oh, I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

The creature just stared, obviously perplexed as to why I was being so nice. Was the other Gerard not nice?

“Sir, it really is no trouble at all. Your uniform is in the bathroom, as I was told you were going to be parading today. I must hasten to add that you have a busy day ahead of you, and punctuality is key.”

In other words, he wanted me to hurry the fuck up.

I sighed, thanking the animal and heading into the en suite. Upon entry, I went up to the sink and splashed icy cold water onto my face. How was it possible that being dead felt so real? That I could sense the cold icy water hit my cheeks?

As I looked up at my reflection, I very nearly screamed.

I was pale. Okay, I’d always been pale, but never this bad. To be honest, I looked like a corpse. Haha. No Gerard, not even fucking funny. What scared me more than the lack of colour in my cheeks was quite possibly my hair. The roots had started growing out. White. I actually had white roots. Soon my whole hair would be white again, without the assistance of that itchy dye. Oh god.

A bundle of black clothing caught my eye in the mirror and I spun around, walking up to it and touching the material with trembling fingers. It was just like my parade outfit in real life, disturbingly so. As I slipped it on I told myself over and over again that this was just another concert.

A VERY long one.

Once I had made myself at least somewhat respectable, (who knew you had to keep up appearances when you died?) I exited the bathroom to find the vulture awaiting me.

“Shall we?” It asked. I just nodded, too freaked out to reply.

We set off down a very long dark corridor with a marble floor. There were a disturbingly large amount of odd looking clocks on every single wall, each with neat names written in a flowing script under them. Instead of counting time by minutes, they appeared to count by months. I looked away, not even wanting to know.

“So…..where did you live before you died?” I asked casually. Hell, this talking bird seemed to be the only nice per-well, THING here. However, it threw me a strange look, ruffling its wings a little in discomfort.

“I was born here sir.”

I frowned.

“How can you be born in a land of the dead?”

“It’s not a land of the dead, with all respects sir. We’re…..simply not alive.”

“See, that sounds like a nice way of saying ‘We’re dead as grandma Elena’.”

Suddenly, I let out a gasp as I realised something. I stopped walking, and so did the bird. (Apparently, it preferred walking to flying? WTF?)

“Vulture!”

“With all due respect sir, my name is James. Do I waltz around crying out ‘human’ every time I see one?”

“Oops, sorry James. I was just thinking, do you remember a woman called Elena Lee Rush coming through these parts? She was my grandmother.”

“Hmm….that name DOES sound familiar….I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask a member of The Black Parade. That is of course, their speciality.”

I sighed, and started to walk again.

“Oh well. Thank you anyway…..James.”

“Just doing my job.”

We stopped at a large set of arched doors. I tensed, knowing who (or what) was on the other side.

“After you Mr. Way.”



Bob’s POV



I was woken up by the sound of Miley Cyrus’s squeaky little voice, and rolled my eyes. A few weeks ago, Gerard had thought it funny to change my ring tone and then password protect the settings options so I couldn’t change it. Gerard. I felt a lump in my throat. Nether the less, I picked up my mobile and answered.

“Hello?”

“Oh thank god you picked up, no one else would. It’s Frank.”

“Frank?! It’s”-I glanced at the clock and almost dropped the phone-“Jesus it’s 4:27 Frank!”

“I know! But I have something urgent to discuss with you. Do you think you could meet me at that Starbucks we always used to go to after tour?”

I sighed. How could I say no? The urgency in his voice was obvious, and he wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t something important. Out of all of us, he and Mikey got hit the hardest when Gee passed.

“Yeah, sure buddy. I’ll be there in 15 minutes, kay?”

He sighed in relief. I could tell the guy was really worked up about something.
“Thank you Bob. I really appreciate this.”

“Anytime man, anytime.”

He hung up.

I gently shook my girlfriend of two months, five days and four and a half hours. She groaned and rolled over, hitting my in the face with her arm. I laughed.

Olivia didn’t actually live with me, we weren’t even near that stage yet. However, things had gotten heavy earlier when she came to visit me and we’d ended up taking it to the bedroom. Not that I fucking minded that, of course. She was a really awesome person and I totally loved her personality. She was exactly the comfort and support I needed in a time like this.

She half opened her eyes.

I need to talk to Frank.”

At this, she sat bolt upright.

“Oh god Bob! Why didn’t you tell me you were on drugs? We could have got through it together!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Honey I’m not~”

“It’s alright, I swear I’ll stay with you. We’ll get through this, don’t you worry. Y’know, my cousin Harry goes to this awesome rehab centre; it’s meant to be the best in the state and they do all sorts of group therapy work. Don’t worry, you’ll get clean! Hell, I never thought you were the type. I mean Gerard yeah, it was obvious he could and would at any opportunity. Not that I disliked him, he was an awesome dude. Really funny and smart, y’know? But you only had to look at him to work out he used to be on the shit. I’m convinced he still was as well, the couple of times I met him. In fact, I’m convinced that~”

“I’m~”

“And you don’t have to do it alone Bob, you have so many people that love and care for you. Why did you do it? You know I’m here if things ever get to be too much.”

HONEY! I’m not on drugs, I’m not joining rehab and Gerard quit in the summer of 2004. Frankie, one of my BEST FRIENDS just wants to talk to me. Although, I do appreciate the fact that you’d be willing to stay with me,” I chuckled.

“Oh. Right. I totally knew that. I was just, y’know. Testing you. Tell the poor guy I’m thinking of him and that I hope he’s ok. Gerard and Frank used to be pretty close, didn’t they?”

“Yeah they did.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.” She gave me a quick peck on the lips and turned over, snuggling into the covers.

“But next time, make sure Frank meets you in the middle of the day.”

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I sat at the table, sipping my cappuccino and only just suppressing a yawn. I was so tired, what with the evening’s activities before. It puzzled me as to what could be so important, but it didn’t matter. One of my best friend’s was obviously in need, and I was going to be there for him. A shadow fell over me and I looked up, almost spitting the coffee over myself in shock.

Frank looked awful. Really awful. His usually cool dude hair was clung to his skin in a greasy heap, and his skin was a horrid white. What scared me the most though, were his eyes.

They were dead, completely devoid of all emotion apart from pain. Dark circles hung under them, and he had a sort of desperate look on his face. He took his seat opposite me, cradling the black coffee he’d brought to his chest like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Th…thank you for coming Bob,” He said in a weak and cracked voice.

“It’s no trouble at all. You know I’ll always be here for you, alright? Brothers Forever?”

He gave me the ghost of a smile. It looked more like a grimace.

“Forever.”

I looked at his coffee again, and frowned.

“Dude, I thought you hated black coffee?”

His eyes flashed with pain, and he looked down hastily. The penny finally dropped for me and I almost smacked myself for being so naïve.

Frank had always hated black coffee. Gerard however, had worshiped the stuff. I almost started to cry right there and then, as I realised that just this small cup of coffee was another piece of Gerard that Frank was desperately trying to hold on too.

I decided to drop it.

“H….how’s Jamia?” I asked, trying to break the tension.

“Jamia?”

“Yeah Frank. You know, that woman you married.”

He frowned.

“She’s….fine. She’s more than fine, she’s fucking ecstatic. She’s happier than ever. It’s like she WANTED G………..”

A pained expression crossed his face, as he tried to force Gee’s name out. But it just wouldn’t come. He put his head into his hands, obviously trying to contain his emotions.

I awkwardly patted his back. I was terrible with stuff like this, emotional crap and all that jazz. He deserved a more sympathetic friend than me.

“S’okay Frankie. You don’t have to…you know what I mean.”

He took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself.

“Hey, maybe she’s just putting on a happy face cus’ she’s trying to get you to feel normal again.”

“Thanks Bob. I don’t know what I’d do without you and the guys.”

I smiled. “It’s fine. Is there any reason you wanted me to come, or did you just feel like hanging out?”

A stormy look crossed his features.

“Yeah. I need you to tell me that I’m not crazy.”

You should have seen my face. I went to speak, but he shhh’d me, fumbling for something in his pockets. He finally managed to pull out a piece of paper, and he laid it flat on the table. My stomach lurched as I realised it was Gerard’s neat flowing handwriting. The suicide note.

“Now, do you remember that time I teased him about the way he used to write his L’s?”

I chuckled.

“Oh yeah! Summer of 04’ right? Didn’t he start crying or something? Haha, that was a funny day. He was really fucking high though.”


“Y….Yeah. And he stopped writing them curly after that day. He never has since, has he? I mean, even 2 years later he just does them normally.”

I noticed he was still using the present tense, like he was still alive.

“What you getting at with this Frank?”

He spun the note around and pointed his finger at a random word.

“Look.”

I squinted at it, and sure enough, the L was curly. I was quite frankly, shocked. I mean, I seriously hadn’t seen him write in that style in years.

“Wait, does that mean…..?”

“Yeah. This was written about three years ago. It mentions substance abuse and alcoholism doesn’t it? He quit them around that time. Plus there’s no reference to LynZ anywhere in the letter, and I honestly can’t see him forgetting her. Why wouldn’t he just write another one? Especially since parts of this one are incorrect?”

He leant forwards, paranoia and desperation all over him.

“What if he didn’t kill himself? What if someone staged it to look like he had?”

I sighed. Frankie had read way too far into this.

“Frank …….the police said they were positive it was a suicide. There were no signs of a struggle. Maybe he didn’t have the heart to write another one, so he just used this? And for all we know, he probably was back on the booze and pills. He was spending a lot of time alone recently.”

It was like I was the parent who had to break it to him that Santa Claus wasn’t real. He just, lost whatever spark he had been holding onto.

“Dude, we all loved him, but why are you getting so worked up about this? I mean, it’s understandable with Mikey, but with you? You were no closer to him than the rest of us were.”

He mumbled something under his breath.

“What?”

“I loved him Bob.”

“Yeah we all did, but~”

“No, You don’t understand. I loved him.”


“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“How long?”

“Since 03’. But we only got together about six months ago.”

“You and him were….?!”

“Uh huh.”

I suddenly felt angry. Not because I’d been lied to by them both, or even the fact that he was only just telling me now. Nah, I was furious for his wife sat home waiting for him. For LynZ, who I knew for a fact was down the local bar drowning her sorrows while Kitty looked after Lady B.

“What the fuck Frank?! What, so you don’t love Jamia anymore? She’s one of the sweetest girl’s I’ve ever met! And how could you let Gee do that to LynZ?”

“Of course I love her! She’s the love of my life! I just….love him as well.”

I looked at him in disgust, snatching the letter back.

“I’m going to take this back to Gerard’s WIFE, and you should go back to yours. After all, there’s no stupid distractions to keep you away from her now are there?”

Fury flashed in his eyes. He stood up forcefully. I realised the full weight of what I had said.

“Shit man, I’m~”

“I’ll prove you wrong! I’LL PROVE YOU ALL WRONG! GERARD WAS MURDERED, AND I KNOW IT!”

He stormed out. I sighed, feeling utterly deflated. When was Frank going to get this silly little notion out of his head? This didn’t feel right.



Parade Gerard’s POV

Cold. Everything was so cold. I didn’t know where I was, but I knew one thing. I was no longer in the world of the Black Parade.

Everything was pitch black, and I couldn’t move. I didn’t even feel myself attached to a body anymore. I reminded myself that it had to be this way, that the new Gerard had come and he was needed now. But it didn’t stop the desolate feeling of pain and loneliness filling my chest. I missed my fellow paraders, Robert, Raymond, Michael, Franklin. Especially my Frankie.

I wondered how long I would stay like this? Forever? Or until someone new came for me? This was not Heaven, Hell or Purgatory, Nor Paradise or Nirvana. It certainly wasn’t the realm of the Black Parade.

So where was I?



Yep, I know this took forever. I’m sorry. Lauren’s death just about killed all my inspiration, especially when I read an authors note saying she was looking forward to Eddi and mine’s new update. BTW, I don’t know if they have “Talk To Frank” in America, so here’s a little explanation. It’s basically a support centre for people addicted to drugs, alcohol, whatever. Their main motto is “Talk To Frank”, either via phone or email.

-Chloe xx
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