Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Lindsey's Will
I started to walk away, “Oh my gee, It does actually look like sex when you turn it around! He’s so cool! Sooo perfect!” I really hadn’t noticed that my autograph looked like it said 'sex' when flipped. A fan pointed it out about two years ago. I turned a corner and that’s when I noticed a girl, maybe middle-late-ish teen. The thing that made her pop out was that she was trying to avoid everyone. She was slumped a bit forward and was sliding against the stone wall. I walked up to her, her hair in her eyes. I couldn’t even tell what eye color she had. Even worse, I bet she couldn’t even see me. “Hey, you okay? You’re walking different. Un-normalish, y’know?” She flipped her hair out of the way, “You’re a hypocrite. You always walk weird.“ I was taken aback, “Wait, you know me?” I knew it was a stupid question but that’s the only thing I could say. “No way, Mr. Way. You’re just on every magazine out there. But, the real reason of why I ‘know’ you is because I’m Lilliana. Lilliana Ballato.” I squinted my eyes and dropped the right part of my mouth. Her eyes. They were the same as Lyndsies’. I was dumbfounded. I actually believed her. The resemblance was so similar. “Yeah, I’m Lyndsies’ sister.” I hesitated, “Yeah, I’ve heard her talk about you. She just really never bothered in telling me your name. I mean, wow that sounded harsh. I didn’t mean it like that. She would ramble off about you. She sometimes even forgot to breath when she talked about you. So many things she’s told me, and she never really told me your name. Lilliana, right?” I saw her nod, “Okay, so coffee. From what I heard, you seem to love coffee as much as I do, so would you like to go get some coffee with me? After that, I’m going back home. So?” She nodded again. I felt as if I was the conversation.
“Tell me, when did you get here?” I said in between sips. “About two months ago,” her Scottish accent dominating, “I haven’t told her I’m here.” She fiddled with her hands. “So you were just walking around… just walking?” She looked at her hands, “Yeah. What made you want to even talk to me? I mean, here you are, a famous guy randomly talking to people on the streets. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you wanted to be noticed.” I looked at her, “I told you on our first conversation. The way you were walking really grabbed my attention. Well not really grabbed, but it looked like there was something wrong with you.” She looked at me with piercing eyes, “Well, I’m sorry Mr. Perfect. I didn’t realize I wasn’t walking like you.” I sighed. I hope this mood is only temporary. “Okay, so after this we’re going back to my house, which means Lyndsies’ and mine, just to let you know.” Her eyes grew. “No, no no. It’s okay. Really,” I looked at her with confusion, “She doesn’t know I’m here, remember? She’ll be mad.” I took another sip of coffee. Lyndsie won’t be mad, I’m pretty sure of it. “She won’t. Trust me.” She nodded as if she didn't want to agree with me and stood up. “Are you staying anywhere? I mean, you have to be, you’ve been here for two months already.” She sighed, “That’s the thing, Mr. Perfect. I was staying at this hotel and I kinda ran out of money. I left for a walk, and they didn’t even let me go back in to get my stuff.” We walked to the car, “So, which hotel?” She hesitated and squinted her eyes as if it were gonna help her remember. “Hotel. Hotel Bella Muerte.” I smiled, “Oh, that shitty hotel?” The band and I stayed there once, before we were this famous. "Okay, then we’ll go there and get your stuff back.” She looked outside. I was gonna try to get her stuff back. I don’t know what it’ll take but it’s totally fine with me. I knew she didn’t want to come home with Lyndsie and me, but she had nowhere else to go.
The hotel was on the “ghetto” part of New Jersey, more ghetto than it already is. We walked in, “Hmm, um, don’t know where to start. Oh here we go, umm, can she have her stuff back?” I pointed towards Lilliana. “What’s her name, sir?” I played with my hair, “Lilliana Ballato, now seriously, what can I do to get her stuff back? I’ll pay for it.” She shook her head. “Sir, are you aware of how much money she owes?” I spit to the side, “ I don’t care about the price, okay. Oh and the last name’s Way.” At that instance the owner of the hotel, from what I remember, stepped out, and greeted me, “Please, Mr. Way, follow me into my office.” Lilliana and I both walked into a small room. It was old and had this minty smell mixed in with cigarette. I was used to that smell, since I did smoke, but Lilliana wasn’t so used to it. “Mr. Way, it’s been long since you last stepped in here. Now what is it that-“ I broke him off, “Mr. Hotel-Owner-Whose-Name-I-Forgot, listen, my-“ I paused, “My umm, Sister-In-Law, needs all her stuff back. So, how are we going to work this out? “The hotel Owner played with his pen, “Mr. Way, do you know how much money she owes?” I lit a cigarette,” I don’t care, name the price and I’ll pay it. Or if you want you can keep it.” Lilliana looked at me with piercing eyes. “We can go and buy new stuff. Your decision.” I seem to have gotten Lilliana mad.. “Your decision?!” she screamed,
“ They’re MY stuff!” I looked at her cautiously like if I knew what I was doing. She slipped into the chair besides mine. “Mr…?” I asked. He rubbed his eyebrows and slowly answered, “Mr. Cashman, If you may ask.” A smirk played around my face, “Well, that’s ironic. Your last name is Cashman and you want some cash. I wouldn’t have been surprised earlier, if I knew your name.”
The man literaly looked like a sausage in a plastic bag, except that he wore a blue suit with stripes running down. He had fake jewelry. His mustache hid most of his mouth, but I could actually spot his unbrushed, gringy, yellow teeth. “Mr. Way, are you even paying attention to our discussion?” I ran my hand through my chin. I could feel some stub poking at my touch. “Mr. Cashmasausage… I mean… Cashman.. Sorry… I saw something that reminded me of a sausage..”
So this is what I have so far. Hope you all enjoy it. :3
I don't even know what lead me to call the hotel owner Mr. Cashman. xD
So this is short. It's the best I can do. D:
“Tell me, when did you get here?” I said in between sips. “About two months ago,” her Scottish accent dominating, “I haven’t told her I’m here.” She fiddled with her hands. “So you were just walking around… just walking?” She looked at her hands, “Yeah. What made you want to even talk to me? I mean, here you are, a famous guy randomly talking to people on the streets. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you wanted to be noticed.” I looked at her, “I told you on our first conversation. The way you were walking really grabbed my attention. Well not really grabbed, but it looked like there was something wrong with you.” She looked at me with piercing eyes, “Well, I’m sorry Mr. Perfect. I didn’t realize I wasn’t walking like you.” I sighed. I hope this mood is only temporary. “Okay, so after this we’re going back to my house, which means Lyndsies’ and mine, just to let you know.” Her eyes grew. “No, no no. It’s okay. Really,” I looked at her with confusion, “She doesn’t know I’m here, remember? She’ll be mad.” I took another sip of coffee. Lyndsie won’t be mad, I’m pretty sure of it. “She won’t. Trust me.” She nodded as if she didn't want to agree with me and stood up. “Are you staying anywhere? I mean, you have to be, you’ve been here for two months already.” She sighed, “That’s the thing, Mr. Perfect. I was staying at this hotel and I kinda ran out of money. I left for a walk, and they didn’t even let me go back in to get my stuff.” We walked to the car, “So, which hotel?” She hesitated and squinted her eyes as if it were gonna help her remember. “Hotel. Hotel Bella Muerte.” I smiled, “Oh, that shitty hotel?” The band and I stayed there once, before we were this famous. "Okay, then we’ll go there and get your stuff back.” She looked outside. I was gonna try to get her stuff back. I don’t know what it’ll take but it’s totally fine with me. I knew she didn’t want to come home with Lyndsie and me, but she had nowhere else to go.
The hotel was on the “ghetto” part of New Jersey, more ghetto than it already is. We walked in, “Hmm, um, don’t know where to start. Oh here we go, umm, can she have her stuff back?” I pointed towards Lilliana. “What’s her name, sir?” I played with my hair, “Lilliana Ballato, now seriously, what can I do to get her stuff back? I’ll pay for it.” She shook her head. “Sir, are you aware of how much money she owes?” I spit to the side, “ I don’t care about the price, okay. Oh and the last name’s Way.” At that instance the owner of the hotel, from what I remember, stepped out, and greeted me, “Please, Mr. Way, follow me into my office.” Lilliana and I both walked into a small room. It was old and had this minty smell mixed in with cigarette. I was used to that smell, since I did smoke, but Lilliana wasn’t so used to it. “Mr. Way, it’s been long since you last stepped in here. Now what is it that-“ I broke him off, “Mr. Hotel-Owner-Whose-Name-I-Forgot, listen, my-“ I paused, “My umm, Sister-In-Law, needs all her stuff back. So, how are we going to work this out? “The hotel Owner played with his pen, “Mr. Way, do you know how much money she owes?” I lit a cigarette,” I don’t care, name the price and I’ll pay it. Or if you want you can keep it.” Lilliana looked at me with piercing eyes. “We can go and buy new stuff. Your decision.” I seem to have gotten Lilliana mad.. “Your decision?!” she screamed,
“ They’re MY stuff!” I looked at her cautiously like if I knew what I was doing. She slipped into the chair besides mine. “Mr…?” I asked. He rubbed his eyebrows and slowly answered, “Mr. Cashman, If you may ask.” A smirk played around my face, “Well, that’s ironic. Your last name is Cashman and you want some cash. I wouldn’t have been surprised earlier, if I knew your name.”
The man literaly looked like a sausage in a plastic bag, except that he wore a blue suit with stripes running down. He had fake jewelry. His mustache hid most of his mouth, but I could actually spot his unbrushed, gringy, yellow teeth. “Mr. Way, are you even paying attention to our discussion?” I ran my hand through my chin. I could feel some stub poking at my touch. “Mr. Cashmasausage… I mean… Cashman.. Sorry… I saw something that reminded me of a sausage..”
So this is what I have so far. Hope you all enjoy it. :3
I don't even know what lead me to call the hotel owner Mr. Cashman. xD
So this is short. It's the best I can do. D:
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