Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Wipe of that make up
We were in the kitchen, Gerard sat on a wooden chair beside the fridge, an old towel tied around his neck. I promised to cut his hair, so I would.
"So, what are you gonna do? There's a chunk of my hair missing..." he said uncertainly, peering into the small mirror he held.
"Um, I'll think of something..." I muttered, and picked up the scissors from the table. He looked unsure, and didn't seem to trust my cutting skills. But he quickly put a brave face on and said,
"Eh, go for it."
I took the scissors, cutting the back into some form of order. He hummed We Are The Champions to himself as his red hair floated down to the floor tiles. He glanced at the fridge, at the piles of drawings held up with magnets.
"Are these yours?" he asked, carefully taking a few down and looking at them. He had a handful of my Green Day watercolours. "Wow, these are really good." He smiled, touching the outlines and faded colours as if they were pages from the bible. I stopped cutting for a minute, staring at how he admired them. It felt like, for that one little moment, some one understood. He cared. He cared at least enough to pretend to care. He turned around, smiling at me.
"Talented and pretty. Ah, Mikey probably didn't know what hit him."
He laughed, and turned back around. I coughed, getting rid of the little lump in my throat and the blush on my cheeks. I hadn't talked to Mikey for days. I continued cutting away at Gerard's hair, great big handfuls of it falling around him.
"Well, finished..." I said, handing him the mirror.
"That's just... wow." he smiled, running a hand through his hair. "Never thought a mohawk would suit me, yano..." I smiled, brushing the red hair from his shoulders. He stood, and replaced my drawings back on the fridge. Just with a change of hairstyle, he looked so much more grown up. Older than his seventeen years, like the baby-faced cute Gerard had some how gone away. Mysterious, complicated, and almost rebellious looking, he winked at me as he shook the last of his long red hair to the floor.
"You wanna go out, get some coffee?" he smiled, "I got a craving for some caffeine."
"Sure... But no getting drunk, I don't want my last name on your other ass cheek..." I laughed as we headed out the door.
"So, what are you gonna do? There's a chunk of my hair missing..." he said uncertainly, peering into the small mirror he held.
"Um, I'll think of something..." I muttered, and picked up the scissors from the table. He looked unsure, and didn't seem to trust my cutting skills. But he quickly put a brave face on and said,
"Eh, go for it."
I took the scissors, cutting the back into some form of order. He hummed We Are The Champions to himself as his red hair floated down to the floor tiles. He glanced at the fridge, at the piles of drawings held up with magnets.
"Are these yours?" he asked, carefully taking a few down and looking at them. He had a handful of my Green Day watercolours. "Wow, these are really good." He smiled, touching the outlines and faded colours as if they were pages from the bible. I stopped cutting for a minute, staring at how he admired them. It felt like, for that one little moment, some one understood. He cared. He cared at least enough to pretend to care. He turned around, smiling at me.
"Talented and pretty. Ah, Mikey probably didn't know what hit him."
He laughed, and turned back around. I coughed, getting rid of the little lump in my throat and the blush on my cheeks. I hadn't talked to Mikey for days. I continued cutting away at Gerard's hair, great big handfuls of it falling around him.
"Well, finished..." I said, handing him the mirror.
"That's just... wow." he smiled, running a hand through his hair. "Never thought a mohawk would suit me, yano..." I smiled, brushing the red hair from his shoulders. He stood, and replaced my drawings back on the fridge. Just with a change of hairstyle, he looked so much more grown up. Older than his seventeen years, like the baby-faced cute Gerard had some how gone away. Mysterious, complicated, and almost rebellious looking, he winked at me as he shook the last of his long red hair to the floor.
"You wanna go out, get some coffee?" he smiled, "I got a craving for some caffeine."
"Sure... But no getting drunk, I don't want my last name on your other ass cheek..." I laughed as we headed out the door.
Sign up to rate and review this story