Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Rope Burn
On Monday morning Mikey got up, got ready and went to work without saying a word to his brother. He washed, dressed, drank three cups of coffee then shut the door behind him without even acknowledging Gerard's presence. In fact, to be honest, Mikey hadn't even noticed if Gerard had been around or not. He hadn't cared to look.
As he sat on the subway, Mikey for once couldn't bear to put his headphones on; his head felt like shit. He wondered if anything was really worth a hangover on a Monday. Then he thought back to yesterday and immediately decided it was.
But in the same way that Mikey was ignoring Gerard, so was his mind, so he quickly moved on. Not that there was much inspiring around him. The drunk guy opposite convinced he was having a two-way conversation with the old lady's dog was probably the most entertaining thing, but when your head aches and stings like someone filled it with ice cubes, even that gets tiring.
So Mikey just stared out of the window at the breezeblock walls blurring endlessly past and listened to the wind tunnel whistling vacuously and rattling the flimsy metal train, letting it become a sort of hypnosis for his tired and abused mind.
It was an ordinary and uneventful day at Barnes and Noble; Mikey dumped his coat and bag in the back room, grunted in reply to his boss' 'good morning', then went through the motions of selling music to the masses. Not that today's performance would have put Mikey forward for employee of the month: he sent an old lady in the completely wrong direction for Tinchy Stryder, sold a violent Swedish porno to a clearly fourteen year old boy, stacked Michael Jackson's back catalogue alphabetically instead of chronologically and told an eight year old girl looking for the Jonas Brothers to 'listen to some real fucking music' and gave her a Black Flag CD, then proceeded to tell her to 'man up' when she started to cry at the cover illustration.
When his nine to five was done, Mikey put his coat on and walked out without giving a single fuck about the pyramid display of Lady Gaga albums crashing down around whichever fool was trying to buy one behind him. He jumped back on the subway but got off a few stops earlier than normal, getting off in the middle of town. He didn't want to go home.
Mikey found himself back at Terra Incognita, the bar he'd wasted a few hours at yesterday, seeing as it was closest to his house without it being likely that Gerard would go there.
He strolled in and sat down at the bar, completely apathetic and numb to everything around him. Within a minute or so a barmaid came over to take his order. Mikey looked up at her as she approached and snapped briefly out of his numbness when he recognised the ice white bob, green eyes and lip ring of the barmaid he'd insulted the night before. A similar look of recognition passed over her face, but before she could say anything Mikey grimaced and made the effort, "Hey, I'm really sorry about last night, I didn't mean to be so rude to you."
"Nah it's fine." she said, waving it off airily.
"Just had a really bad day, y'know?" Mikey continued, out of some sense of conscience.
"Seriously, it's fine." the barmaid laughed. "I get bottles and fists thrown at me here regularly - I can take some skinny kid being antisocial." she smirked, raising her eyebrows at Mikey.
He tried to glare her down but cracked into a grin, laughing under his breath. "I'm Mikey."
"JJ." she nodded, smirk still in place. "Can I get you anything?"
"Uh, yeah, just a beer."
JJ nodded again and walked off to grab a glass. Mikey smiled to himself.
Mikey managed to waste a good three hours in Terra before he realised that if he was going to go to work tomorrow he should probably go home and get some sleep.
The subway was uneventful, blurry and forgotten by the time Mikey pushed through his front door and kicked it shut behind him. He wandered down the corridor with no particular idea in his mind of where he was heading, but thinking it was a good route to follow.
Then at the kitchen door he almost bumped into Gerard walking across the hall. They both shrank apart from each other with surprising speed - especially for Mikey whose reactions had been slow at best for the past hour.
Mikey wasn't aware of the awkward silence falling between them almost visibly. All he knew was that Gerard was there but he didn't like Gerard so he didn't want to talk to Gerard so he wasn't going to talk to Gerard. And that the house felt warm and liquidy. The wallpaper was trying to tell him something.
Gerard, however, was sober and therefore did feel the uncommonly hostile distance between them. He looked at the floor, away from Mikey. "There's dinner saved in the oven for you, I didn't know when you'd be back." he mumbled, avoiding eye contact and shuffling his feet a little.
For a split second, Mikey's horrified face could be put down to the fact that he was concentrating so hard on interpreting the moving shapes on the wallpaper that he genuinely thought the voice came from the pattern. But of course, then he realised that the wallpaper sounded like Gerard, because Mikey could tell Gerard's voice anywhere. And Mikey didn't want to hear Gerard's voice, because Bert heard Gerard's voice too.
"I've already eaten." he lied dismissively, giving another sceptical and confused look to the wallpaper as he brushed past Gerard and went upstairs.
Guys. Guys. Two months. I'm so sorry. ...Not that anyone was keeping tabs and was panicking at the lack of activity with this, but still, I'm sorry that it's been twice as late (again) as I thought it would be. I've been on a teaching placement for the last few weeks and just... eurgh it's been so fucking busy. Sorry.
This one's very short, I know, but I'm halfway through the next one so that should be up within the week (and I mean it this time). I'm not feeling particularly eloquent tonight though (as you can probably tell) (nothing to do with alcohol) so I didn't want to write it all and put it up even though it'd be shite. You know what I mean?
As he sat on the subway, Mikey for once couldn't bear to put his headphones on; his head felt like shit. He wondered if anything was really worth a hangover on a Monday. Then he thought back to yesterday and immediately decided it was.
But in the same way that Mikey was ignoring Gerard, so was his mind, so he quickly moved on. Not that there was much inspiring around him. The drunk guy opposite convinced he was having a two-way conversation with the old lady's dog was probably the most entertaining thing, but when your head aches and stings like someone filled it with ice cubes, even that gets tiring.
So Mikey just stared out of the window at the breezeblock walls blurring endlessly past and listened to the wind tunnel whistling vacuously and rattling the flimsy metal train, letting it become a sort of hypnosis for his tired and abused mind.
It was an ordinary and uneventful day at Barnes and Noble; Mikey dumped his coat and bag in the back room, grunted in reply to his boss' 'good morning', then went through the motions of selling music to the masses. Not that today's performance would have put Mikey forward for employee of the month: he sent an old lady in the completely wrong direction for Tinchy Stryder, sold a violent Swedish porno to a clearly fourteen year old boy, stacked Michael Jackson's back catalogue alphabetically instead of chronologically and told an eight year old girl looking for the Jonas Brothers to 'listen to some real fucking music' and gave her a Black Flag CD, then proceeded to tell her to 'man up' when she started to cry at the cover illustration.
When his nine to five was done, Mikey put his coat on and walked out without giving a single fuck about the pyramid display of Lady Gaga albums crashing down around whichever fool was trying to buy one behind him. He jumped back on the subway but got off a few stops earlier than normal, getting off in the middle of town. He didn't want to go home.
Mikey found himself back at Terra Incognita, the bar he'd wasted a few hours at yesterday, seeing as it was closest to his house without it being likely that Gerard would go there.
He strolled in and sat down at the bar, completely apathetic and numb to everything around him. Within a minute or so a barmaid came over to take his order. Mikey looked up at her as she approached and snapped briefly out of his numbness when he recognised the ice white bob, green eyes and lip ring of the barmaid he'd insulted the night before. A similar look of recognition passed over her face, but before she could say anything Mikey grimaced and made the effort, "Hey, I'm really sorry about last night, I didn't mean to be so rude to you."
"Nah it's fine." she said, waving it off airily.
"Just had a really bad day, y'know?" Mikey continued, out of some sense of conscience.
"Seriously, it's fine." the barmaid laughed. "I get bottles and fists thrown at me here regularly - I can take some skinny kid being antisocial." she smirked, raising her eyebrows at Mikey.
He tried to glare her down but cracked into a grin, laughing under his breath. "I'm Mikey."
"JJ." she nodded, smirk still in place. "Can I get you anything?"
"Uh, yeah, just a beer."
JJ nodded again and walked off to grab a glass. Mikey smiled to himself.
Mikey managed to waste a good three hours in Terra before he realised that if he was going to go to work tomorrow he should probably go home and get some sleep.
The subway was uneventful, blurry and forgotten by the time Mikey pushed through his front door and kicked it shut behind him. He wandered down the corridor with no particular idea in his mind of where he was heading, but thinking it was a good route to follow.
Then at the kitchen door he almost bumped into Gerard walking across the hall. They both shrank apart from each other with surprising speed - especially for Mikey whose reactions had been slow at best for the past hour.
Mikey wasn't aware of the awkward silence falling between them almost visibly. All he knew was that Gerard was there but he didn't like Gerard so he didn't want to talk to Gerard so he wasn't going to talk to Gerard. And that the house felt warm and liquidy. The wallpaper was trying to tell him something.
Gerard, however, was sober and therefore did feel the uncommonly hostile distance between them. He looked at the floor, away from Mikey. "There's dinner saved in the oven for you, I didn't know when you'd be back." he mumbled, avoiding eye contact and shuffling his feet a little.
For a split second, Mikey's horrified face could be put down to the fact that he was concentrating so hard on interpreting the moving shapes on the wallpaper that he genuinely thought the voice came from the pattern. But of course, then he realised that the wallpaper sounded like Gerard, because Mikey could tell Gerard's voice anywhere. And Mikey didn't want to hear Gerard's voice, because Bert heard Gerard's voice too.
"I've already eaten." he lied dismissively, giving another sceptical and confused look to the wallpaper as he brushed past Gerard and went upstairs.
Guys. Guys. Two months. I'm so sorry. ...Not that anyone was keeping tabs and was panicking at the lack of activity with this, but still, I'm sorry that it's been twice as late (again) as I thought it would be. I've been on a teaching placement for the last few weeks and just... eurgh it's been so fucking busy. Sorry.
This one's very short, I know, but I'm halfway through the next one so that should be up within the week (and I mean it this time). I'm not feeling particularly eloquent tonight though (as you can probably tell) (nothing to do with alcohol) so I didn't want to write it all and put it up even though it'd be shite. You know what I mean?
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