Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Our Time Is Running Out
The air was hot when Gerard raced down the streets to get to the bank. All because of the fires all over town which were magically burning every hour of every day.
His feet plumped against the paving stones as he jogged.
He couldn't jog a long distance since his poor condition didn't allow that. Soon, Gerard slowed down. He was gasping for air but the slight lack of oxygen in it made his period of recovery much longer than usual.
Gerard bent over, hugging his knees with cramping hands.
He wasn't built for running long distances. Not at all.
Time passed and Gerard started feeling better. He wiped sweat off of his glistening forehead and continued his journey towards the bank.
This time he didn't run. He figured that walking was the safest alternative since he would probably pass out if he took another running step.
Soon he could see the giant building with the letters B-A-N-K on it. He sighed with relief. He had made it. And he was still alive.
Gerard entered the building, pulling his hood up and hugging his coat closer to him to blend in among the people more. The bank was always crowded by the citizens of New York who craved money.
Gerard placed himself in a long queue and waited. He made sure not to make noises or bump into anyone.
He wondered what Frank was doing back at his apartment. If he was in pain again.
Maybe he had died?
Gerard shuddered. He actually liked the company of the grumpy little guy who crashed, not like he had a choice, on Gerard's mattress.
Soon Gerard was the first one in the line and stared into the face of a serious-looking woman. She was placed on the other side of a glass wall, looking at him through her big glasses. She spoke through a small hole in the glass wall. Slowly, like Gerard was some kind of an idiot.
"What do you want darling?" the voice bombinated through the hole.
"I'd like to get my money this week," Gerard explained while fiddling with the pocket of his coat.
"What's your name then?" she asked coolly.
"Gerard. Gerard Way."
She looked through her lists and made a small mark next to Gerard's name. "I see that you're almost 30. One month and 20 days left, eh? You better watch out," she said with a wink and handed Gerard a couple of notes.
Gerard looked around to make sure that no one was eyeing him before he stumbled out of the bank. Her words had made him paranoid.
Was people out to get him? Did they want to kill him?
Her words echoes through his head over and over again. I see that you're almost 30. One month and 20 days left, eh? You better watch out.
Gerard quickly walked into an empty alley and looked at the notes he had gotten. Fifty dollars.
It wasn't much since the price of groceries was extremely high.
Hell, the price for an old loaf of bread was over seven dollars.
Gerard groaned but there was nothing he could do about it.
He hurried to get to the store to buy Frank some food, all of the time he kept looking over his shoulder.
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His feet plumped against the paving stones as he jogged.
He couldn't jog a long distance since his poor condition didn't allow that. Soon, Gerard slowed down. He was gasping for air but the slight lack of oxygen in it made his period of recovery much longer than usual.
Gerard bent over, hugging his knees with cramping hands.
He wasn't built for running long distances. Not at all.
Time passed and Gerard started feeling better. He wiped sweat off of his glistening forehead and continued his journey towards the bank.
This time he didn't run. He figured that walking was the safest alternative since he would probably pass out if he took another running step.
Soon he could see the giant building with the letters B-A-N-K on it. He sighed with relief. He had made it. And he was still alive.
Gerard entered the building, pulling his hood up and hugging his coat closer to him to blend in among the people more. The bank was always crowded by the citizens of New York who craved money.
Gerard placed himself in a long queue and waited. He made sure not to make noises or bump into anyone.
He wondered what Frank was doing back at his apartment. If he was in pain again.
Maybe he had died?
Gerard shuddered. He actually liked the company of the grumpy little guy who crashed, not like he had a choice, on Gerard's mattress.
Soon Gerard was the first one in the line and stared into the face of a serious-looking woman. She was placed on the other side of a glass wall, looking at him through her big glasses. She spoke through a small hole in the glass wall. Slowly, like Gerard was some kind of an idiot.
"What do you want darling?" the voice bombinated through the hole.
"I'd like to get my money this week," Gerard explained while fiddling with the pocket of his coat.
"What's your name then?" she asked coolly.
"Gerard. Gerard Way."
She looked through her lists and made a small mark next to Gerard's name. "I see that you're almost 30. One month and 20 days left, eh? You better watch out," she said with a wink and handed Gerard a couple of notes.
Gerard looked around to make sure that no one was eyeing him before he stumbled out of the bank. Her words had made him paranoid.
Was people out to get him? Did they want to kill him?
Her words echoes through his head over and over again. I see that you're almost 30. One month and 20 days left, eh? You better watch out.
Gerard quickly walked into an empty alley and looked at the notes he had gotten. Fifty dollars.
It wasn't much since the price of groceries was extremely high.
Hell, the price for an old loaf of bread was over seven dollars.
Gerard groaned but there was nothing he could do about it.
He hurried to get to the store to buy Frank some food, all of the time he kept looking over his shoulder.
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