Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Fix Your Eyes And Get Out
Mikey:
It was good to be home.
I felt a hell of a lot better than I did - although, I guess that went without saying. Still, seeing the front door to my house, with my wife's car parked up in the driveway and the quirky flowers we'd planted together last summer lining the edge of the lawn... it was like a huge weight had been lifted from my stomach. I smiled as I headed up the drive and pushed the front door open.
"Hey, babe. I'm home," I called.
"In the kitchen," Alicia's cheery voice replied. I headed through and found her at the sink, doing the dishes. I wound my arms around her waist from behind and kissed her hair.
"God, I missed you," I whispered in her ear.
"I missed you too, sweetie," she replied, smiling.
"Did you do anything cool while I was away?" I asked, conversationally. Alicia was so fun-loving and just that little bit crazy. She often did amazingly random things, just for the sheer hell of it. She shrugged.
"Not really," she said. "Went shopping a few times with Lindsey, painted the front room, got my car MOT'd. Did you have fun on tour?"
"Don't I always?" I chuckled. She finished cleaning the last glass, then peeled the rubber gloves off of her hands and turned to face me. She gasped when she did.
"Holy fuck, Mikes, what happened to your head?" she asked. I laughed nervously.
"Walked into a door," I explained. "My fault, I was playing some dumb game on my phone, wasn't watching where I was going. I'm okay, though."
"It looks nasty," she said. Then she gave me a light shove. "This is why you look where you're going, mister."
"I know," I said, thankful that she believed the admittedly lame excuse. "I'm sorry. You should've heard Gerard when it happened, though. He fucking panicked like nothing else. And then Frank just laughed and called me a retard. Gosh, he's such a nice guy."
"Well, I'm glad you had a good time," she said. "Oh, you got a letter earlier, by the way. Here." She handed me a brown envelope with my name and our address handwritten on the front. I tossed it back down on the table and picked her up newlywed style.
"I'll look at that shit later," I said. "Right now, I say we go upstairs and celebrate me getting back, yeah?"
"I like the sound of that," she giggled, winding her arms around my neck.
I'd almost forgotten what happened on tour.
Almost.
But not quite.
It was good to be home.
I felt a hell of a lot better than I did - although, I guess that went without saying. Still, seeing the front door to my house, with my wife's car parked up in the driveway and the quirky flowers we'd planted together last summer lining the edge of the lawn... it was like a huge weight had been lifted from my stomach. I smiled as I headed up the drive and pushed the front door open.
"Hey, babe. I'm home," I called.
"In the kitchen," Alicia's cheery voice replied. I headed through and found her at the sink, doing the dishes. I wound my arms around her waist from behind and kissed her hair.
"God, I missed you," I whispered in her ear.
"I missed you too, sweetie," she replied, smiling.
"Did you do anything cool while I was away?" I asked, conversationally. Alicia was so fun-loving and just that little bit crazy. She often did amazingly random things, just for the sheer hell of it. She shrugged.
"Not really," she said. "Went shopping a few times with Lindsey, painted the front room, got my car MOT'd. Did you have fun on tour?"
"Don't I always?" I chuckled. She finished cleaning the last glass, then peeled the rubber gloves off of her hands and turned to face me. She gasped when she did.
"Holy fuck, Mikes, what happened to your head?" she asked. I laughed nervously.
"Walked into a door," I explained. "My fault, I was playing some dumb game on my phone, wasn't watching where I was going. I'm okay, though."
"It looks nasty," she said. Then she gave me a light shove. "This is why you look where you're going, mister."
"I know," I said, thankful that she believed the admittedly lame excuse. "I'm sorry. You should've heard Gerard when it happened, though. He fucking panicked like nothing else. And then Frank just laughed and called me a retard. Gosh, he's such a nice guy."
"Well, I'm glad you had a good time," she said. "Oh, you got a letter earlier, by the way. Here." She handed me a brown envelope with my name and our address handwritten on the front. I tossed it back down on the table and picked her up newlywed style.
"I'll look at that shit later," I said. "Right now, I say we go upstairs and celebrate me getting back, yeah?"
"I like the sound of that," she giggled, winding her arms around my neck.
I'd almost forgotten what happened on tour.
Almost.
But not quite.
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