Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > This Is The Best Day Ever
Hello! So I know last week I said I wouldn't be writing for awhile, but I've been feeling okay and I had all these ideas for several different stories (some I haven't posted on this website) so I just HAD to write them. And I feel bad for not updating this story as frequently as I should. So here's the latest chapter! By the way, the title is a reference to Pink Elephants On Parade from the Disney movie Dumbo. DON'T JUDGE. I love that damn movie. If you don't know what this has to do with the story, just Google it. And THANK YOU SOOOOOO MUCH to RockMusic, who made me feel loads better with that sweet review. Ronnie is a god :D
Chapter 20
I wake up to the sound of the shower running and music playing. Nirvana. I smile and stretch my limbs. “Good morning.” I say, climbing out of bed to hug Bert, who’s preparing to get into the shower. Pain shoots through my rear and I quickly sit back on the bed.
“Owwww….” I complain. My muscles down “there” are cramped and sore. Even my lower back hurts.
“Shit…” Bert says, trying to hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not. You had loads of fun doing this to me.” I retort. But I can’t help laughing myself.
Bert scoops me up and carries me to the bathroom. “You don’t have to walk for the rest of the day.” he tells me.
I catch my reflection in the mirror and gasp. Then I burst into laughter again. My neck is covered with red and purple bruises from Bert’s vampirism last night. And when I say covered, I mean covered. From a distance, it could look like a tattoo. I also notice hickeys and bruises along my pelvic bone and thighs. I don’t remember Bert doing that there…I smile as I remember last night.
“Oh my God…” Bert pulls my hair away from my neck, revealing more marks. “I did this to you?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I say, stepping into the steaming shower. “I kind of like it.”
In the shower, there’s more kissing than washing. We stand underneath the jet of water together, practically one body with the way we’re pressed against each other. Hot water runs between our lips and into our mouths. I feel myself going into that surreal bliss that happens when I’m in his arms. He creates this sort of world that is only inhabited by the two of us. A world where nothing can hurt me. Where I’m safe.
When I’m clean and dry, I dress in tight jeans and a new black shirt. Bert took me shopping a few days ago and insisted on buying me everything I laid eyes on. He seemed to enjoy shopping with me, which is surprising for a guy. I’m not a big fan of shopping, but I think we both enjoyed being in a small changing room together where clothing is optional.
“What do you want to do today, darling?” Bert asks, combing his fingers through my wet hair and smiling fondly at my reflection in the mirror.
“Coffee.” I reply immediately.
“I swear, your blood is coffee.” Bert jokes. We put on our shoes and head out the door. I tuck a room key into my pocket.
During the short (and slightly painful) walk to Starbucks, I notice what looks like a gay bar tucked into a street corner. Lit up male gender signs decorate the windows. Above the door, a sign informs me that the club is called Manhole. How classy. But I’ve never been to a gay bar before… I’m interested.
“Bert,” I say, tugging on his sleeve. I point to Manhole. “Can we go there tonight?”
Bert raises an eyebrow. “Why? I don’t share.” he puts an arm around my shoulders.
“You don’t have to.” I reassure him. “I just want to meet some people like…us.”
Bert shrugs. “Why not? We can go.”
I smile and kiss his cheek. I love my boyfriend. He grins back. I realize in that moment that everything in my life is perfect right now. I’m with the one I love, and I’m free. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Plus, we’re getting coffee. Coffee makes everything better.
I walk into Starbucks knowing exactly what I want.
“Hello, are you ready to order?” the cashier asks, smiling.
“Yeah, I’ll take black coffee. Venti, please.” I tell her.
“Creamer?”
“Nope.”
“Sugar?”
“Nope.”
“Just plain black coffee?” the cashier looks doubtful. Don’t judge my goddamn coffee, bitch.
“Just. Plain. Black. Coffee.” I say, emphasizing each word. How dare she question my coffee!
“Will that be all?” she asks.
I turn to Bert, who’s trying not to laugh. “What are you getting?”
“I-Iced latte. V-Venti.” he says, giggling slightly.
“That’ll be 7.89, your orders will be at the counter shortly.” Ms. Cashier tells us, frowning. I don’t think she’ll bother remembering our orders for next time. Then she turns to the minimum wage slaves scurrying around behind her. “VENTI BLACK COFFEE AND A VENTI ICED LATTE!” she bellows.
I flinch. “Do they have to fucking scream our orders?” I hiss under my breath. Bert laughs out loud.
“What?” I whine.
“You’re so cute.” Bert says, ruffling my hair. I pout childishly.
“I think she made fun of my coffee.” I say.
“Women don’t know what real coffee is.” Bert jokes.
“VENTIBLACKCOFFEEGRANDEICEDLATTE!!” An employee screeches across the café. I flinch again. I’m not used to things being so loud. When I was in B- I force myself to stop thinking about that.
I stride towards the counter for my delicious coffee. But the barista isn’t holding out a white and green cup of coffee. It’s a rusted dagger. Fresh blood streams down the blade.
I scream and jerk backwards. The dagger is aimed towards me, poised to kill. “She’s trying to kill me!” I cry.
People begin to whisper and stare. Bert steps in front of me and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Gerard? Are you okay?” his back is an easy target for the killer barista. She could stab him effortlessly.
“GET AWAY!” I scream, pushing him to the side. I see the barista again. She’s frozen, holding two cups of coffee. No dagger in sight.
Lightheadedness overcomes me, and I topple into Bert’s arms. He quickly carries me out of the café without getting our orders. My vision tunnels, alerting me that I am in danger of passing out. What’s going on? Everything is fuzzy. I feel Bert setting me down onto the edge of the sidewalk.
“What was all of that about?” he looks frightened.
“She had a d-dagger.” I whisper.
Bert shakes his head slowly. “Honey, she did not have a dagger or any form of weapon.”
My eyes widen. So it was all in my head? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This could only mean one thing. The hallucinations are back.
“The hallucinations are back.” I tell Bert, my voice wavering.
Bert opens and closes his mouth, unsure of what to say. He pulls me into his arms, despite the weird looks people are giving us. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” he whispers in my ear.
I bury my face in his shoulder, but I don’t reply. Because I know everything is not going to be okay.
--
The other day at Starbucks, I ordered black coffee and the barista kept giving me weird looks and asked me TWICE if I wanted anything in it. So I thought "why not put it in my story?" :P
Chapter 20
I wake up to the sound of the shower running and music playing. Nirvana. I smile and stretch my limbs. “Good morning.” I say, climbing out of bed to hug Bert, who’s preparing to get into the shower. Pain shoots through my rear and I quickly sit back on the bed.
“Owwww….” I complain. My muscles down “there” are cramped and sore. Even my lower back hurts.
“Shit…” Bert says, trying to hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not. You had loads of fun doing this to me.” I retort. But I can’t help laughing myself.
Bert scoops me up and carries me to the bathroom. “You don’t have to walk for the rest of the day.” he tells me.
I catch my reflection in the mirror and gasp. Then I burst into laughter again. My neck is covered with red and purple bruises from Bert’s vampirism last night. And when I say covered, I mean covered. From a distance, it could look like a tattoo. I also notice hickeys and bruises along my pelvic bone and thighs. I don’t remember Bert doing that there…I smile as I remember last night.
“Oh my God…” Bert pulls my hair away from my neck, revealing more marks. “I did this to you?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I say, stepping into the steaming shower. “I kind of like it.”
In the shower, there’s more kissing than washing. We stand underneath the jet of water together, practically one body with the way we’re pressed against each other. Hot water runs between our lips and into our mouths. I feel myself going into that surreal bliss that happens when I’m in his arms. He creates this sort of world that is only inhabited by the two of us. A world where nothing can hurt me. Where I’m safe.
When I’m clean and dry, I dress in tight jeans and a new black shirt. Bert took me shopping a few days ago and insisted on buying me everything I laid eyes on. He seemed to enjoy shopping with me, which is surprising for a guy. I’m not a big fan of shopping, but I think we both enjoyed being in a small changing room together where clothing is optional.
“What do you want to do today, darling?” Bert asks, combing his fingers through my wet hair and smiling fondly at my reflection in the mirror.
“Coffee.” I reply immediately.
“I swear, your blood is coffee.” Bert jokes. We put on our shoes and head out the door. I tuck a room key into my pocket.
During the short (and slightly painful) walk to Starbucks, I notice what looks like a gay bar tucked into a street corner. Lit up male gender signs decorate the windows. Above the door, a sign informs me that the club is called Manhole. How classy. But I’ve never been to a gay bar before… I’m interested.
“Bert,” I say, tugging on his sleeve. I point to Manhole. “Can we go there tonight?”
Bert raises an eyebrow. “Why? I don’t share.” he puts an arm around my shoulders.
“You don’t have to.” I reassure him. “I just want to meet some people like…us.”
Bert shrugs. “Why not? We can go.”
I smile and kiss his cheek. I love my boyfriend. He grins back. I realize in that moment that everything in my life is perfect right now. I’m with the one I love, and I’m free. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Plus, we’re getting coffee. Coffee makes everything better.
I walk into Starbucks knowing exactly what I want.
“Hello, are you ready to order?” the cashier asks, smiling.
“Yeah, I’ll take black coffee. Venti, please.” I tell her.
“Creamer?”
“Nope.”
“Sugar?”
“Nope.”
“Just plain black coffee?” the cashier looks doubtful. Don’t judge my goddamn coffee, bitch.
“Just. Plain. Black. Coffee.” I say, emphasizing each word. How dare she question my coffee!
“Will that be all?” she asks.
I turn to Bert, who’s trying not to laugh. “What are you getting?”
“I-Iced latte. V-Venti.” he says, giggling slightly.
“That’ll be 7.89, your orders will be at the counter shortly.” Ms. Cashier tells us, frowning. I don’t think she’ll bother remembering our orders for next time. Then she turns to the minimum wage slaves scurrying around behind her. “VENTI BLACK COFFEE AND A VENTI ICED LATTE!” she bellows.
I flinch. “Do they have to fucking scream our orders?” I hiss under my breath. Bert laughs out loud.
“What?” I whine.
“You’re so cute.” Bert says, ruffling my hair. I pout childishly.
“I think she made fun of my coffee.” I say.
“Women don’t know what real coffee is.” Bert jokes.
“VENTIBLACKCOFFEEGRANDEICEDLATTE!!” An employee screeches across the café. I flinch again. I’m not used to things being so loud. When I was in B- I force myself to stop thinking about that.
I stride towards the counter for my delicious coffee. But the barista isn’t holding out a white and green cup of coffee. It’s a rusted dagger. Fresh blood streams down the blade.
I scream and jerk backwards. The dagger is aimed towards me, poised to kill. “She’s trying to kill me!” I cry.
People begin to whisper and stare. Bert steps in front of me and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Gerard? Are you okay?” his back is an easy target for the killer barista. She could stab him effortlessly.
“GET AWAY!” I scream, pushing him to the side. I see the barista again. She’s frozen, holding two cups of coffee. No dagger in sight.
Lightheadedness overcomes me, and I topple into Bert’s arms. He quickly carries me out of the café without getting our orders. My vision tunnels, alerting me that I am in danger of passing out. What’s going on? Everything is fuzzy. I feel Bert setting me down onto the edge of the sidewalk.
“What was all of that about?” he looks frightened.
“She had a d-dagger.” I whisper.
Bert shakes his head slowly. “Honey, she did not have a dagger or any form of weapon.”
My eyes widen. So it was all in my head? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This could only mean one thing. The hallucinations are back.
“The hallucinations are back.” I tell Bert, my voice wavering.
Bert opens and closes his mouth, unsure of what to say. He pulls me into his arms, despite the weird looks people are giving us. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” he whispers in my ear.
I bury my face in his shoulder, but I don’t reply. Because I know everything is not going to be okay.
--
The other day at Starbucks, I ordered black coffee and the barista kept giving me weird looks and asked me TWICE if I wanted anything in it. So I thought "why not put it in my story?" :P
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