Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Skylines and Turnstiles
7 reviewsThe day is September 11th, 2001, and Gerard is in New York City. *FRERARD ONESHOT*
2Ambiance
I was standing on the balcony of my small New York City apartment watching the sun slowly appear between the skyscrapers. As I sipped my coffee, I heard the glass door behind me open and close and then felt a gentle hand resting on the small of my back. I glanced up to see a soft face with hazel green eyes that were so full of life. They sparkled and danced in the early light of the morning, and they were the kind of eyes you could get lost in. They always held a deeper mystery than the one they were showing, always had more layers to pulled away before you could see the raw soul underneath.
I rested my head on the man’s shoulder as he gently kissed my hair. “Good morning, Frankie,” he said quietly.
I smiled at the sound of his velvety voice and responded, “Good morning, Gerard. Want some coffee?”
“Do you even have to ask?” he replied, playfulness tinting his voice. I chuckled softly and handed him my barely touched mug. He took it gratefully, and we continued to watch the sunrise, a comfortable silence lying between us.
“It's beautiful,” I said, my voice breaking the peaceful blanket of quiet that was surrounding and enveloping us.
Gerard’s mouth curved upward into a small smile and he said, “It is. But not as beautiful as you.” I could feel my face heat up at his compliment as he bent over slightly and place a small, sweet kiss on my cheek.
“That’s not true,” I said in a voice barely more than a whisper.
Gerard shook his head in disbelief and said, “It IS true. You are the most gorgeous person I have ever met, and the most amazing thing to happen to me ever.” He stated all this as if it was a simple fact, one that was widely accepted and I was stupid for questioning it. I sighed in resignation, seeing I would not be able to convince him otherwise.
After the sun had fully risen, we retreated back into the apartment and away from the crisp fall air. We sat on the small couch in our tiny living room, watching the news. I curled into Gerard’s side, his arm strung across my shoulders. He hummed gently, the vibrations they caused in his chest tickling me. I didn’t recognize the tune though, so I asked, “What song is that?”
Gee shrugged nonchalantly, and said, “Just something I wrote a while back.” “Can I hear it?” I asked, curious. “I guess,” he responded. Then he opened his mouth and sang.
“Hand in mine
Into your icy blues
And then I say to you
We could take to the highway
With this trunk of
Ammunition too
I’d end my days with you
In a hail of bullets
I’m trying
To let you know
How much you mean
And after
All the things
We put each other through
And I would drive
Onto the end with you
A liquor store or two
Keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like
There’s nothing left to do
But prove myself to you
And we’ll keep it running...”
The song cut short as Gerard stopped singing, leaving me staring at him, eyes wide with amazement. He shrugged again and said, “That’s as far as I got. Its not very good, but-”
I cut him off there, saying, “Are you crazy. That was amazing, Gee.”
Gee grinned wider than I thought possible at my words. An idea popped into my head as I thought of him singing, but I decided to keep it to myself for the time being.
“So,” I began, trying to think of a conversation starter, “How’s work going?”
Gerard sighed heavily and responded, “Same old, same old. We’re going to pitch a new show soon.” He glanced quickly at the cheap watch encircling his wrist, and groaned in despair, throwing his head back. “Speaking of which,” he said, “ I’ve got to go.”
I did my best puppy dog face, widening my eyes and jutting out my bottom lip. Gerard laughed at my expression and kissed my forehead, getting up.
“I’ll be back later,” he promised, grabbing his coat and walking out the door. It was eight thirty, September eleventh, 2001.
I sat on the couch, leaving the television on, but not paying it any attention. I thought about the idea nagging at the back of my mind. When I had heard Gee singing, I had had a vision of us being in a huge arena. He was singing that song to thousands of fans who were chanting his name while I played guitar. It was perfect, and there was suddenly nothing I wanted more. Then it was quarter to eight. And then three more minutes passed.
The TV was on a commercial break, but it suddenly switched back to the news, capturing my attention. A reporter was saying that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Behind him, there it was. The Trade Center, burning, with (at least) hundreds of people inside. And it was on Gerard’s way to work. I was off the sofa and over to the house phone faster than you could say fire, calling his cell phone.
When Gee picked up, the first words to spill out of my mouth were, “Are you ok?”
He responded, in an almost dead voice, “Yeah. I’m ok. But there’s so many people that aren’t.” He paused, drawing in a shaky breath, before continuing.
“I saw the plane, Frank. I saw it crash into that tower filled with innocent people. And now those innocent people are jumping. I can see it out the window. They’re trying to escape, and they’re all dying. Every single one of them. They’re going to leave behind kids, and wives, and dogs, and families, Frank. And there’s nothing we can do. Just sit and watch it happen.”
By this point I could tell he was close to tears, even over the phone.
“Shhh..baby” I murmured, “It’s gonna be alright. There’s nothing you could have done, anyway.”
“That’s just the problem, Frank,” he said in a broken voice, “There’s nothing I could have done. I want to make a difference, not just sit drawing pictures for a corporation.” His words reflected just what I was feeling earlier, and I found myself nodding, though I knew he couldn’t see me.
“Then that’s what we’ll do baby,” I said, “You and me. We’ll change the world.”
We continued talking about everything we wanted to do with our lives, and we finally decided on one thing: music. It had always been a huge part of our lives; we had been in and out of bands all our lives, and it’s what got us both through high school. We wanted to be that band that saved someone’s life, and we were going to do it if it was the last thing we ever did.
Later that day, we called our friend Matt, and got him in on it too. A couple of days later, Ray came in as lead guitarist, and then Mikey as bassist. The band was formed, and we played our first show just a week later.
The kids faces when they heard us...it was unimaginable. Watching them dance to the music we were creating, it was the best thing ever. At that moment, I knew this band was for fucking life. Somehow, someway, we would make it, and we would take over the fucking world.
A/N: R&R? Pweasies?
LE EDIT: Just wanna make this clear due to some reviews I got. THIS IS A ONESHOT. I thought the ending was final enough to show that, but apparently I was wrong. I may consider writing a sequel or turning this into a chaptered story in the future, but as it is I already have a story I really do need to work on, and simply don't have time for a second full length at the moment.
I rested my head on the man’s shoulder as he gently kissed my hair. “Good morning, Frankie,” he said quietly.
I smiled at the sound of his velvety voice and responded, “Good morning, Gerard. Want some coffee?”
“Do you even have to ask?” he replied, playfulness tinting his voice. I chuckled softly and handed him my barely touched mug. He took it gratefully, and we continued to watch the sunrise, a comfortable silence lying between us.
“It's beautiful,” I said, my voice breaking the peaceful blanket of quiet that was surrounding and enveloping us.
Gerard’s mouth curved upward into a small smile and he said, “It is. But not as beautiful as you.” I could feel my face heat up at his compliment as he bent over slightly and place a small, sweet kiss on my cheek.
“That’s not true,” I said in a voice barely more than a whisper.
Gerard shook his head in disbelief and said, “It IS true. You are the most gorgeous person I have ever met, and the most amazing thing to happen to me ever.” He stated all this as if it was a simple fact, one that was widely accepted and I was stupid for questioning it. I sighed in resignation, seeing I would not be able to convince him otherwise.
After the sun had fully risen, we retreated back into the apartment and away from the crisp fall air. We sat on the small couch in our tiny living room, watching the news. I curled into Gerard’s side, his arm strung across my shoulders. He hummed gently, the vibrations they caused in his chest tickling me. I didn’t recognize the tune though, so I asked, “What song is that?”
Gee shrugged nonchalantly, and said, “Just something I wrote a while back.” “Can I hear it?” I asked, curious. “I guess,” he responded. Then he opened his mouth and sang.
“Hand in mine
Into your icy blues
And then I say to you
We could take to the highway
With this trunk of
Ammunition too
I’d end my days with you
In a hail of bullets
I’m trying
To let you know
How much you mean
And after
All the things
We put each other through
And I would drive
Onto the end with you
A liquor store or two
Keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like
There’s nothing left to do
But prove myself to you
And we’ll keep it running...”
The song cut short as Gerard stopped singing, leaving me staring at him, eyes wide with amazement. He shrugged again and said, “That’s as far as I got. Its not very good, but-”
I cut him off there, saying, “Are you crazy. That was amazing, Gee.”
Gee grinned wider than I thought possible at my words. An idea popped into my head as I thought of him singing, but I decided to keep it to myself for the time being.
“So,” I began, trying to think of a conversation starter, “How’s work going?”
Gerard sighed heavily and responded, “Same old, same old. We’re going to pitch a new show soon.” He glanced quickly at the cheap watch encircling his wrist, and groaned in despair, throwing his head back. “Speaking of which,” he said, “ I’ve got to go.”
I did my best puppy dog face, widening my eyes and jutting out my bottom lip. Gerard laughed at my expression and kissed my forehead, getting up.
“I’ll be back later,” he promised, grabbing his coat and walking out the door. It was eight thirty, September eleventh, 2001.
I sat on the couch, leaving the television on, but not paying it any attention. I thought about the idea nagging at the back of my mind. When I had heard Gee singing, I had had a vision of us being in a huge arena. He was singing that song to thousands of fans who were chanting his name while I played guitar. It was perfect, and there was suddenly nothing I wanted more. Then it was quarter to eight. And then three more minutes passed.
The TV was on a commercial break, but it suddenly switched back to the news, capturing my attention. A reporter was saying that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Behind him, there it was. The Trade Center, burning, with (at least) hundreds of people inside. And it was on Gerard’s way to work. I was off the sofa and over to the house phone faster than you could say fire, calling his cell phone.
When Gee picked up, the first words to spill out of my mouth were, “Are you ok?”
He responded, in an almost dead voice, “Yeah. I’m ok. But there’s so many people that aren’t.” He paused, drawing in a shaky breath, before continuing.
“I saw the plane, Frank. I saw it crash into that tower filled with innocent people. And now those innocent people are jumping. I can see it out the window. They’re trying to escape, and they’re all dying. Every single one of them. They’re going to leave behind kids, and wives, and dogs, and families, Frank. And there’s nothing we can do. Just sit and watch it happen.”
By this point I could tell he was close to tears, even over the phone.
“Shhh..baby” I murmured, “It’s gonna be alright. There’s nothing you could have done, anyway.”
“That’s just the problem, Frank,” he said in a broken voice, “There’s nothing I could have done. I want to make a difference, not just sit drawing pictures for a corporation.” His words reflected just what I was feeling earlier, and I found myself nodding, though I knew he couldn’t see me.
“Then that’s what we’ll do baby,” I said, “You and me. We’ll change the world.”
We continued talking about everything we wanted to do with our lives, and we finally decided on one thing: music. It had always been a huge part of our lives; we had been in and out of bands all our lives, and it’s what got us both through high school. We wanted to be that band that saved someone’s life, and we were going to do it if it was the last thing we ever did.
Later that day, we called our friend Matt, and got him in on it too. A couple of days later, Ray came in as lead guitarist, and then Mikey as bassist. The band was formed, and we played our first show just a week later.
The kids faces when they heard us...it was unimaginable. Watching them dance to the music we were creating, it was the best thing ever. At that moment, I knew this band was for fucking life. Somehow, someway, we would make it, and we would take over the fucking world.
A/N: R&R? Pweasies?
LE EDIT: Just wanna make this clear due to some reviews I got. THIS IS A ONESHOT. I thought the ending was final enough to show that, but apparently I was wrong. I may consider writing a sequel or turning this into a chaptered story in the future, but as it is I already have a story I really do need to work on, and simply don't have time for a second full length at the moment.
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