Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Fix Your Eyes And Get Out
Gerard:
The flickering TV screen was the only light in the dark tourbus.
I kind of felt like a 16 year old girl at a sleepover, but there was a 90s horror movie marathon on tonight, and there was no way I was missing it. I mean, these were my favourite films when I was a kid. Some were total classics, and others were ones I'd loved but totally forgotten about. Frank was more than happy to watch with me. Mikey had complained of a headache and had gone to bed early, and Ray was catching up on some reading.
I snorted when Frank screamed because some creepy murderer guy jumped out on an unsuspecting woman on screen. "You're such a loser!" I shoved him.
"Fuck you," he said. "The only reason you're not scared is because you've seen in like, eight million times before."
"Yeah, I guess. And maybe because... I dunno... I'm thirty five and it's not even real?" I poked him in the arm, then stood up, stretching my back. "I'm gonna go get a drink - you want anything?"
"Nah, I'm fine," he said. "These movies are shit, I'm gonna find something else to watch."
Ray was sitting at the table, his book abandoned. He now had his headphones in and was playing some game on his phone. He hadn't heard me come in. I grinned and grabbed his arm. He nearly died of shock. Then he scowled at me, yanking his headphones out. "You're an asshole," he said.
"Tell me something I don't know, honey," I smiled, filling a glass with water. "What happened to reading?"
"Book got boring, Angry Birds was calling to me," he chuckled. "Was that you or Frank who I just heard squealing like a little bitch?"
"Frankie," I smiled. "He's such a wimp."
"I heard that," Frank called.
"You were supposed to!" I replied.
Suddenly, there was a scream from the bunks. Mikey. I was in there quicker than Frank or Ray. "Fuck, Mikes, are you alright?" I said, sitting on the bed beside him. He was out of breath, panting.
"There was some guy at the window," he said.
"What?" I blinked at him. "You screamed because of that? Jesus, dude, it was probably some crazy obsessive teenager, you know how fans can be."
"No way," he shook his head. "He wasn't a teenager. He was in his forties, at least. And he said my fucking name. And he was wearing a ski mask."
I peered out of the window. I could only see blackness. "Whoever it was, he's not there now," I said. "You were probably having a bad dream or something."
"Y-Yeah, maybe," he didn't sound convinced.
The flickering TV screen was the only light in the dark tourbus.
I kind of felt like a 16 year old girl at a sleepover, but there was a 90s horror movie marathon on tonight, and there was no way I was missing it. I mean, these were my favourite films when I was a kid. Some were total classics, and others were ones I'd loved but totally forgotten about. Frank was more than happy to watch with me. Mikey had complained of a headache and had gone to bed early, and Ray was catching up on some reading.
I snorted when Frank screamed because some creepy murderer guy jumped out on an unsuspecting woman on screen. "You're such a loser!" I shoved him.
"Fuck you," he said. "The only reason you're not scared is because you've seen in like, eight million times before."
"Yeah, I guess. And maybe because... I dunno... I'm thirty five and it's not even real?" I poked him in the arm, then stood up, stretching my back. "I'm gonna go get a drink - you want anything?"
"Nah, I'm fine," he said. "These movies are shit, I'm gonna find something else to watch."
Ray was sitting at the table, his book abandoned. He now had his headphones in and was playing some game on his phone. He hadn't heard me come in. I grinned and grabbed his arm. He nearly died of shock. Then he scowled at me, yanking his headphones out. "You're an asshole," he said.
"Tell me something I don't know, honey," I smiled, filling a glass with water. "What happened to reading?"
"Book got boring, Angry Birds was calling to me," he chuckled. "Was that you or Frank who I just heard squealing like a little bitch?"
"Frankie," I smiled. "He's such a wimp."
"I heard that," Frank called.
"You were supposed to!" I replied.
Suddenly, there was a scream from the bunks. Mikey. I was in there quicker than Frank or Ray. "Fuck, Mikes, are you alright?" I said, sitting on the bed beside him. He was out of breath, panting.
"There was some guy at the window," he said.
"What?" I blinked at him. "You screamed because of that? Jesus, dude, it was probably some crazy obsessive teenager, you know how fans can be."
"No way," he shook his head. "He wasn't a teenager. He was in his forties, at least. And he said my fucking name. And he was wearing a ski mask."
I peered out of the window. I could only see blackness. "Whoever it was, he's not there now," I said. "You were probably having a bad dream or something."
"Y-Yeah, maybe," he didn't sound convinced.
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