Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Six Feet Under and I Still Love You
Death Days and Danger Days
0 reviewsGerard's Death Day dinner, Mikey finds out Frank's big secret...
0Unrated
/MIKEY'S P.O.V/
I sat in the car, as Ray drove as slow as he ever did.
"It's for your own safety." Bullshit. That, quite frankly, is bullshit. If I'd had a paper cut, I would have died of blood-loss by the time we got to my mom's house.
"C'mon, I suck dick faster than this." Frank groaned, as I smirked at him. He was always one to break tension at tedious moments in time such as this.
Bob groaned, whereas Ray accelerated. Witty, yet affective - typical Frankie.
Finally we arrived at the place I had always known as home. People were filing in, dressing in blacks and reds, and occasionally dressed as Gerard himself. A tear came to my eye as I thought of how amazing my brother was, of how funny he was, and how he just gave all he had to his fans, on stage, in the records, and in interviews. Looking at my parents and how proud they were, I knew I would never live up to be the amazing man my brother had been, and, in our hearts, always will be.
"Mikes...?" I heard Ray call my name, slightly distantly, but I knew it was Ray none-the-less.
I pushed open the door and climbed out of the car, my vision blurred through the hazy layer of tears that had formed whilst thinking about my brother.
Frank climbed out after me and touched my shoulder kindly.
"Let's do this, man." He muttered. I knew what he was talking about; the press interviews. I nodded silently, dread rising from the pit of my stomach, to the top, and bubbling fiercely.
I walked towards mom and dad, and hugged them both, tears running onto their clothing, wet and filled with pain and angst.
We walked silently into the house, like a procession of normal people, with Frank tagging on the end.
I sat in the car, as Ray drove as slow as he ever did.
"It's for your own safety." Bullshit. That, quite frankly, is bullshit. If I'd had a paper cut, I would have died of blood-loss by the time we got to my mom's house.
"C'mon, I suck dick faster than this." Frank groaned, as I smirked at him. He was always one to break tension at tedious moments in time such as this.
Bob groaned, whereas Ray accelerated. Witty, yet affective - typical Frankie.
Finally we arrived at the place I had always known as home. People were filing in, dressing in blacks and reds, and occasionally dressed as Gerard himself. A tear came to my eye as I thought of how amazing my brother was, of how funny he was, and how he just gave all he had to his fans, on stage, in the records, and in interviews. Looking at my parents and how proud they were, I knew I would never live up to be the amazing man my brother had been, and, in our hearts, always will be.
"Mikes...?" I heard Ray call my name, slightly distantly, but I knew it was Ray none-the-less.
I pushed open the door and climbed out of the car, my vision blurred through the hazy layer of tears that had formed whilst thinking about my brother.
Frank climbed out after me and touched my shoulder kindly.
"Let's do this, man." He muttered. I knew what he was talking about; the press interviews. I nodded silently, dread rising from the pit of my stomach, to the top, and bubbling fiercely.
I walked towards mom and dad, and hugged them both, tears running onto their clothing, wet and filled with pain and angst.
We walked silently into the house, like a procession of normal people, with Frank tagging on the end.
Sign up to rate and review this story