Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Demolition Lovers
You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison
5 reviewsThis is where people start screaming.
4Exciting
AN: 1800 VIEWS! :D
The first bottle could've been meant for anybody. Frank was only dimly aware of an unidentified brown object hurtling through the air and smashing about six feet from the stage. Before he could question it, Gee's mouth had descended on his and the object was forgotten.
The second and third bottle were definitely meant for them.
"FAGS!"
An explosion of white pain crashed through Frank's side, knocking him into Bob's drum set. For one wild second, Frank thought Henry had returned to finish what he started. Then Ray collided into him, soaking with amber liquid that reeked of beer and... was that urine?!
"FRANKIE! RAY!"
"Gee! Look out-!"
Frank's eyes cracked open to see a beer bottle smash into his boyfriend's knee, sending him flying over the edge of the stage to disappear in the crowd. Mikey dived after him, completely forgetting about the bass that still hung around his neck.
Ray was unconscious, his skinny frame slumped over the drums and Frank in a way that prevented the younger man from rescuing his lover. Whenever Frank tried to lift himself from beneath Ray, a sickening pain would jump up his side from where the bottle had struck. He could still see the blurry shapes of the people fighting in the crowd, some of them even trying to prevent more bottles from being thrown. He could see Bronwyn's glittery outline pushing herself onto the stage.
"Ray! RAY!" Her hair was flying around her like a tornado of feathers. With Bob's help, they managed to lift the skinny guitarist off the wreckage that was Frank and the drums.
"Oh, God," Bob moaned. "Hold still, Frank. We'll find Gee." He cast a fearful glance at Ray's face in his arms, paling at the trickle of blood that seeped from his fro.
Frank whimpered. His vision was dulled by the agony in his side, but he refused to allow the darkness to overtake him. Not until he found Gee. "Get him to a hospital," he wheezed to Bob. "I can... I can crawl..."
Bob looked like he was suffering from a heart attack. "Frankie, no! Don't move, for God's sake-"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
That one tortured scream brought back a flood of memories for Frank. He recalled that same noise coming to his ears nearly every morning, whenever Gerard moved his shoulder a little too quickly. Tears sprung to his eyes and hit the floor.
"Ge-GERARD!" Frank choked. Before Bob could figure out how to stop him without hurting Ray, Frank had scrambled over to the edge of the stage. When he got there, his ribs were screaming and shadows were pressing down on his eyesight. "Gee! Please, baby! GERARD!"
When he could move enough to peer over the edge of the stage and into the sea of people, Frank felt like puking over the side.
-
The pain in his shoulder was fire. No, it was the fucking Sun burning its way into his flesh, ripping and scorching and oh God end it now-
"GERARD!"
His name. Who was yelling at him? Couldn't they see he needed help?
People were crowded around him, making him feel trapped. Someone was trying to prop him up, but there was a large hunk of metal in the way. Gee squinted up at the ceiling, waves of pain crashing down on him from his knee and shoulder. Who the hell had thrown that bottle?! Chuck Norris?!
Oh. A bass. That's what the metal was. So then this must be-
"Mikey," he croaked. "Where's Frank?"
His little brother was shaking violently. His eyes were huge in his pale face, making him seem at least ten years younger. "Frank's hurt, Gee. Just hang on a second."
Hang on a second? Seriously? HANG ON A SECOND?! Oh, hell no!
"Mikey!" Gerard clutched at Mikey's shirt, his fingers hooked into rigid claws. "What do you mean, 'Frank's hurt'? Where is he?!"
A noise sounded above their heads, one that went with puppies being kicked. Swallowing the vomit that threatened to escape his mouth, Gerard looked up at the bleeding face of Frank Iero.
There was a gash along Frank's cheek, angry red and dripping a scary amount of blood. His eyes were deep pools of agony that mirrored Gerard's own. His baby was crying, but he managed to shift himself over the side of the stage and plop onto the floor.
"Frankie!" Gee struggled in Mikey's grip, anxious to see if Frank was okay. It hadn't been a huge drop, but still enough to wrench another wail from Frank's lips.
"Is everyone fucking insane?!" Mikey demanded of no one in particular. "Gee, hold still! We need an ambulance or something!"
Gerard went limp, sobbing. His body was a giant bullet wound, and it hurt to breathe. He blinked weakly at Mikey's face, seeing that his glasses were cracked in one corner. Frank had apparently passed out, his small body crumpled at the foot of the stage.
'What did we do to deserve this?' Gee wondered, already knowing the answer. He could hear a siren screeching outside, matched only by Bronwyn's own shrieks. Bob was shouting at her to shut up, and Mikey had finally lost his emotionless expression and broken down into tears.
'Show's over,' he thought.
And then he too slipped into darkness.
AN: Seriously, guys. Homophobia is disgusting. Also, under no circumstances is bottling a band acceptable. Don't try this at home.
*]
[*Hope you had a lovely Valentine's Day! :3
*]
[*Boyfriend: You're so bipolar...
Me: Shut up and fetch me my ice cream.
The first bottle could've been meant for anybody. Frank was only dimly aware of an unidentified brown object hurtling through the air and smashing about six feet from the stage. Before he could question it, Gee's mouth had descended on his and the object was forgotten.
The second and third bottle were definitely meant for them.
"FAGS!"
An explosion of white pain crashed through Frank's side, knocking him into Bob's drum set. For one wild second, Frank thought Henry had returned to finish what he started. Then Ray collided into him, soaking with amber liquid that reeked of beer and... was that urine?!
"FRANKIE! RAY!"
"Gee! Look out-!"
Frank's eyes cracked open to see a beer bottle smash into his boyfriend's knee, sending him flying over the edge of the stage to disappear in the crowd. Mikey dived after him, completely forgetting about the bass that still hung around his neck.
Ray was unconscious, his skinny frame slumped over the drums and Frank in a way that prevented the younger man from rescuing his lover. Whenever Frank tried to lift himself from beneath Ray, a sickening pain would jump up his side from where the bottle had struck. He could still see the blurry shapes of the people fighting in the crowd, some of them even trying to prevent more bottles from being thrown. He could see Bronwyn's glittery outline pushing herself onto the stage.
"Ray! RAY!" Her hair was flying around her like a tornado of feathers. With Bob's help, they managed to lift the skinny guitarist off the wreckage that was Frank and the drums.
"Oh, God," Bob moaned. "Hold still, Frank. We'll find Gee." He cast a fearful glance at Ray's face in his arms, paling at the trickle of blood that seeped from his fro.
Frank whimpered. His vision was dulled by the agony in his side, but he refused to allow the darkness to overtake him. Not until he found Gee. "Get him to a hospital," he wheezed to Bob. "I can... I can crawl..."
Bob looked like he was suffering from a heart attack. "Frankie, no! Don't move, for God's sake-"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
That one tortured scream brought back a flood of memories for Frank. He recalled that same noise coming to his ears nearly every morning, whenever Gerard moved his shoulder a little too quickly. Tears sprung to his eyes and hit the floor.
"Ge-GERARD!" Frank choked. Before Bob could figure out how to stop him without hurting Ray, Frank had scrambled over to the edge of the stage. When he got there, his ribs were screaming and shadows were pressing down on his eyesight. "Gee! Please, baby! GERARD!"
When he could move enough to peer over the edge of the stage and into the sea of people, Frank felt like puking over the side.
-
The pain in his shoulder was fire. No, it was the fucking Sun burning its way into his flesh, ripping and scorching and oh God end it now-
"GERARD!"
His name. Who was yelling at him? Couldn't they see he needed help?
People were crowded around him, making him feel trapped. Someone was trying to prop him up, but there was a large hunk of metal in the way. Gee squinted up at the ceiling, waves of pain crashing down on him from his knee and shoulder. Who the hell had thrown that bottle?! Chuck Norris?!
Oh. A bass. That's what the metal was. So then this must be-
"Mikey," he croaked. "Where's Frank?"
His little brother was shaking violently. His eyes were huge in his pale face, making him seem at least ten years younger. "Frank's hurt, Gee. Just hang on a second."
Hang on a second? Seriously? HANG ON A SECOND?! Oh, hell no!
"Mikey!" Gerard clutched at Mikey's shirt, his fingers hooked into rigid claws. "What do you mean, 'Frank's hurt'? Where is he?!"
A noise sounded above their heads, one that went with puppies being kicked. Swallowing the vomit that threatened to escape his mouth, Gerard looked up at the bleeding face of Frank Iero.
There was a gash along Frank's cheek, angry red and dripping a scary amount of blood. His eyes were deep pools of agony that mirrored Gerard's own. His baby was crying, but he managed to shift himself over the side of the stage and plop onto the floor.
"Frankie!" Gee struggled in Mikey's grip, anxious to see if Frank was okay. It hadn't been a huge drop, but still enough to wrench another wail from Frank's lips.
"Is everyone fucking insane?!" Mikey demanded of no one in particular. "Gee, hold still! We need an ambulance or something!"
Gerard went limp, sobbing. His body was a giant bullet wound, and it hurt to breathe. He blinked weakly at Mikey's face, seeing that his glasses were cracked in one corner. Frank had apparently passed out, his small body crumpled at the foot of the stage.
'What did we do to deserve this?' Gee wondered, already knowing the answer. He could hear a siren screeching outside, matched only by Bronwyn's own shrieks. Bob was shouting at her to shut up, and Mikey had finally lost his emotionless expression and broken down into tears.
'Show's over,' he thought.
And then he too slipped into darkness.
AN: Seriously, guys. Homophobia is disgusting. Also, under no circumstances is bottling a band acceptable. Don't try this at home.
*]
[*Hope you had a lovely Valentine's Day! :3
*]
[*Boyfriend: You're so bipolar...
Me: Shut up and fetch me my ice cream.
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