Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
The doorbell rang and echoed through Frank’s house into his kitchen, where he was pouring chips into a bowl.
“Come on in!” Frank yelled, spilling some chips on the ground as he strained to yell loud enough to penetrate the door. He heard the door swing open and voices fill the hallway.
“I brought beer!” Ray yelled.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that, man! I already bought beer!” Frank replied, smiling.
“Too bad!” Ray and the rest of the band walked in. Gerard was attacked by dogs.
“Jesus, Frank! How many dogs do you have?!” trying to shake off the slobbering, different sized dogs. After, mentally counting, Frank responded,
“Erm… 12 dogs and counting.” Mikey snickered as Gerard picked up one of the dogs and put it on a chair, only for it to jump off and attack Gerard again.
“Why do they only like me?” Gerard moaned. Ray placed the beer in the fridge and made his way down to Frank’s basement where they usually wrote lyrics. Gerard and Mikey followed him down. Frank, about to pick up the bowl of chips and make his way down too, suddenly remembered that he forgot to order dinner. He yelled into the basement,
“Do you want pizza or should I make pasta?” Mikey and Ray both answered indifferently, but Gerard’s, “PASTAA!!”, though slightly muffled, was heard through the floor. Gerard apparently loved pasta. Frank filled a pot with tap water and placed it on his gas stove, clicking the knob and igniting the flame. So much water would take a while to boil. Frank wiped his hands with an old dishcloth and threw it on the counter next to the stove and ran down to the basement. Gerard was lying on the couch upside down, back on the seat cushions, legs on the back rest and pillows, and head dangling off the edge. He had found one of Frank’s old Spiderman comic books and was lazily reading it, his facing growing red from the blood rushing to his head. Mikey sat cross legged on the floor, tuning his new Fender Mustang bass. Ray was fiddling with the knobs on his amplifier, a look of mild frustration imprinted on his face. Frank walked over the corner of the basement, where his acoustic guitar was on a stand. Frank grabbed the guitar by the neck and took out the pick that was weaved into the strings.
“Have you got any ideas for lyrics?” Gerard sat up in a sudden movement, banging his head on the coffee table as he lifted his head. After wincing in pain, he pulled out a sheet of notebook paper from his jeans pocket that was folded into eighths. He tossed it onto the table and shifted himself so that when he lay down, his head was actually on the couch. Frank unfolded the sheet expecting the usual clutter of phrases that would work its way into a song, but instead saw a drawing of a realistic hand with its middle finger raised up. Frank crumpled up the paper and threw it over his shoulder.
“Classy, Gerard.” Gerard smirked and put the sunglasses that were perched on his head over his eyes. Ray spoke up,
“I worked on some stuff at home.” He picked up his electric guitar and played a short riff.
“I like it, it’s catchy,” Mikey said, smoothing his hair back. Frank nodded in agreement. He sat down on Gerard’s legs, which were stretched out on the couch. Gerard struggled to move his legs from under Frank’s weight. After he came free, Gerard stood up from the couch and pulled his skinny jeans up.
“Please, Gerard, why can’t you wear normal pants for men?” Ray said covering his eyes from Gerard’s shimmying. Gerard stuck out his tongue,
“Who decides normal?” and announced, “I gotta go pee.” Mikey laughed at Gerard’s unnecessary announcement and picked at his bass. Ray rolled his eyes and hunched over his guitar again. Frank watched Gerard climb up the stairs and sighed. He rested his guitar on his lap and tuned it, picking each string until they were perfectly in tune with the rest. Having no inspiration whatsoever, Frank went upstairs to check on the boiling water. When he uncovered the pot, he saw that the water was unmoving. He quickly stuck his finger in to see if it was hot, but it was barely lukewarm. He checked the fire underneath the pot and turned it up and went back downstairs and brainstormed with Ray and Mikey. Minutes passed and Frank suddenly realized that Gerard had been in the bathroom for a while. Frank jogged upstairs and opened the door. A huge cloud of gray smoke billowed in, choking Frank and stinging his eyes. A fire? Frank ran forward, hand over his mouth, eyes nearly shut. He heard Ray and Mikey run upstairs after him.
“Go outside! Call 911! I have to find Gerard!” Frank cried, trying not to inhale the smoke. He ran into the kitchen where he saw that the rag he had placed next to the stove had caught on fire and had spread to the paper towels and curtains. He grabbed two towels out of a drawer and soaked them in water. He put the wet towel over his mouth and nose.
“GERARD!!” He yelled out. He broke the bathroom door open, but Gerard wasn’t there. Frank became hysterical, the smoke was getting worse and he felt the fire nearing him. He had to get out, but he had to find Gerard. Frank could barely see. He used his spare hand to feel around the furniture and walls. The smoke was unbearable. It filled his lungs and blinded his eyes. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of this. He wouldn’t be able to get out if he didn’t leave now. The fire was spreading and Frank didn’t have much time.
“I’m sorry, Gerard. I’m so sorry…” Gerard cried as he stumbled through the living room choking on tears, both from the smoke and regret. Frank tripped over something. He couldn’t get up, he was too weak. He was running out of breath. He stopped trying. He laid his head on the ground and let the smoke envelope him.
“Frankie…” Frank heard Gerard’s voice. Gerard! With great effort, Frank lifted his head to see Gerard with his back against the wall, eyes closed and head handing limply to his left. His mouth was barely moving, trying to speak.
“Gerard. I’m sorry,” Frank whispered. He crawled to sit next to Gerard. “I’m sorry.” He put placed his spare wet cloth into Gerard’s right hand and placed it over Gerard’s mouth and nose. He put his arms around Gerard and Gerard strenuously wrapped his around Frank. Tears ran down both of their faces. Frank apologized over and over until he couldn’t speak anymore.
“Come on in!” Frank yelled, spilling some chips on the ground as he strained to yell loud enough to penetrate the door. He heard the door swing open and voices fill the hallway.
“I brought beer!” Ray yelled.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that, man! I already bought beer!” Frank replied, smiling.
“Too bad!” Ray and the rest of the band walked in. Gerard was attacked by dogs.
“Jesus, Frank! How many dogs do you have?!” trying to shake off the slobbering, different sized dogs. After, mentally counting, Frank responded,
“Erm… 12 dogs and counting.” Mikey snickered as Gerard picked up one of the dogs and put it on a chair, only for it to jump off and attack Gerard again.
“Why do they only like me?” Gerard moaned. Ray placed the beer in the fridge and made his way down to Frank’s basement where they usually wrote lyrics. Gerard and Mikey followed him down. Frank, about to pick up the bowl of chips and make his way down too, suddenly remembered that he forgot to order dinner. He yelled into the basement,
“Do you want pizza or should I make pasta?” Mikey and Ray both answered indifferently, but Gerard’s, “PASTAA!!”, though slightly muffled, was heard through the floor. Gerard apparently loved pasta. Frank filled a pot with tap water and placed it on his gas stove, clicking the knob and igniting the flame. So much water would take a while to boil. Frank wiped his hands with an old dishcloth and threw it on the counter next to the stove and ran down to the basement. Gerard was lying on the couch upside down, back on the seat cushions, legs on the back rest and pillows, and head dangling off the edge. He had found one of Frank’s old Spiderman comic books and was lazily reading it, his facing growing red from the blood rushing to his head. Mikey sat cross legged on the floor, tuning his new Fender Mustang bass. Ray was fiddling with the knobs on his amplifier, a look of mild frustration imprinted on his face. Frank walked over the corner of the basement, where his acoustic guitar was on a stand. Frank grabbed the guitar by the neck and took out the pick that was weaved into the strings.
“Have you got any ideas for lyrics?” Gerard sat up in a sudden movement, banging his head on the coffee table as he lifted his head. After wincing in pain, he pulled out a sheet of notebook paper from his jeans pocket that was folded into eighths. He tossed it onto the table and shifted himself so that when he lay down, his head was actually on the couch. Frank unfolded the sheet expecting the usual clutter of phrases that would work its way into a song, but instead saw a drawing of a realistic hand with its middle finger raised up. Frank crumpled up the paper and threw it over his shoulder.
“Classy, Gerard.” Gerard smirked and put the sunglasses that were perched on his head over his eyes. Ray spoke up,
“I worked on some stuff at home.” He picked up his electric guitar and played a short riff.
“I like it, it’s catchy,” Mikey said, smoothing his hair back. Frank nodded in agreement. He sat down on Gerard’s legs, which were stretched out on the couch. Gerard struggled to move his legs from under Frank’s weight. After he came free, Gerard stood up from the couch and pulled his skinny jeans up.
“Please, Gerard, why can’t you wear normal pants for men?” Ray said covering his eyes from Gerard’s shimmying. Gerard stuck out his tongue,
“Who decides normal?” and announced, “I gotta go pee.” Mikey laughed at Gerard’s unnecessary announcement and picked at his bass. Ray rolled his eyes and hunched over his guitar again. Frank watched Gerard climb up the stairs and sighed. He rested his guitar on his lap and tuned it, picking each string until they were perfectly in tune with the rest. Having no inspiration whatsoever, Frank went upstairs to check on the boiling water. When he uncovered the pot, he saw that the water was unmoving. He quickly stuck his finger in to see if it was hot, but it was barely lukewarm. He checked the fire underneath the pot and turned it up and went back downstairs and brainstormed with Ray and Mikey. Minutes passed and Frank suddenly realized that Gerard had been in the bathroom for a while. Frank jogged upstairs and opened the door. A huge cloud of gray smoke billowed in, choking Frank and stinging his eyes. A fire? Frank ran forward, hand over his mouth, eyes nearly shut. He heard Ray and Mikey run upstairs after him.
“Go outside! Call 911! I have to find Gerard!” Frank cried, trying not to inhale the smoke. He ran into the kitchen where he saw that the rag he had placed next to the stove had caught on fire and had spread to the paper towels and curtains. He grabbed two towels out of a drawer and soaked them in water. He put the wet towel over his mouth and nose.
“GERARD!!” He yelled out. He broke the bathroom door open, but Gerard wasn’t there. Frank became hysterical, the smoke was getting worse and he felt the fire nearing him. He had to get out, but he had to find Gerard. Frank could barely see. He used his spare hand to feel around the furniture and walls. The smoke was unbearable. It filled his lungs and blinded his eyes. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of this. He wouldn’t be able to get out if he didn’t leave now. The fire was spreading and Frank didn’t have much time.
“I’m sorry, Gerard. I’m so sorry…” Gerard cried as he stumbled through the living room choking on tears, both from the smoke and regret. Frank tripped over something. He couldn’t get up, he was too weak. He was running out of breath. He stopped trying. He laid his head on the ground and let the smoke envelope him.
“Frankie…” Frank heard Gerard’s voice. Gerard! With great effort, Frank lifted his head to see Gerard with his back against the wall, eyes closed and head handing limply to his left. His mouth was barely moving, trying to speak.
“Gerard. I’m sorry,” Frank whispered. He crawled to sit next to Gerard. “I’m sorry.” He put placed his spare wet cloth into Gerard’s right hand and placed it over Gerard’s mouth and nose. He put his arms around Gerard and Gerard strenuously wrapped his around Frank. Tears ran down both of their faces. Frank apologized over and over until he couldn’t speak anymore.
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