Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > This Lust To My Brain Almost Feels Like A Gun.
The Amount of Pills I'm Taking, Counteracts The Booze I'm Drinking...
0 reviews"OH, I'M FUCKING HURTING YOU AM I? LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO GERARD! I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOU MCCRACKEN. THIS IS YOUR. FUCKING. FAULT." This chapter was painful to write, as I love both The Used...
0Unrated
First of all, sorry, this chapter is kinda long, but I hope you all enjoy. Please rate and review, it means a lot! Thank guys! (:
"THANK YOU JAPAN! WE HAVE BEEN MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, AND YOU HAVE BEEN AMAZING!"
Gerard roared, before exiting the stage after the encore. He was tired, sweaty, shaking, and hoarse. Slouching against the wall of his dressing room he reached for the beer cooler, pulling out a Budweiser as Mikey and Frank walked through the door.
"Great show tonight guys!" Frank squealed, excitedly, Mikey pulling a half grin in his direction.
Gerard didn't listen, he remained slouched on the floor, against the wall. His head was pounding and he needed sleep, his vision was blurred and his hands were shaking.
"You alright Gee? You look kinda ill man?" Asked Mikey, he sounded worried.
"I'm fine." Gerard stuttered, "J-Just tired is all."
This was a lie, he hadn't felt like this for ages now, he knew something was wrong, he tried to think back to before the show...Had he taken anything dodgy? He'd snorted some cocaine he got off a guy he met in a club the other night, and popped a few pills, but nothing out of the ordinary. And this was the first beer he'd had since the show had ended.
He felt his heart hammer against his chest, this wasn't right, he felt sick to his stomach, and a rush of dizziness flew to his head.
"You sure you're okay? You look like you're gonna pass out Gee?"
Fucking Mikey, why's he always so worried... Though Gerard.
"I'm fine Mikes, just l-leave it man..."
Mikey looked at Frank, who shrugged his shoulders, clearly Frank knew something was wrong, but didn't let on, either he was just as, if not more worried, or had given up caring.
"Wanna go find Ray? I think he might be at the bar?" Asked Frank, to Mikey.
"Yeah sure, you coming Gee?" Said Mikey.
"Nah it's f-f-fine. I'll stay here." He said, his shaking hands were causing Budweiser to be spilled on the floor slightly.
The guitarist and bassist shot him a worried look, but thought nothing of it and walked off to find Ray.
About ten minutes after they'd left the room, Gerard pulled himself up using the chair next to him, and stood still for about a minute or so, finding his balance. He signed the register and exited the venue, making his way to the tour bus. His vision was blurred and he could hear distant screams of fans calling for him from behind the mesh fence. He was tired, the only place he wanted to be was the tour bus, he focused on that, and that alone.
Staggering, he opened the door and clambered up the steps to the inside. He had sweat dripping from his forehead and was coughing half to death. Something was definitely up, he suspected it was the cocaine he'd taken before the show, he didn't know the guy who'd sold it to him, and he already had the pills on him at the time. His head felt like it was about to explode.
Gasping, he threw himself down onto his bunk, he felt a sick feeling in his stomach, and knew at some point he was going to throw up, but he couldn't bring himself to move from the bed. Desperately, he looked around for something to drink, anything. He wished he'd taken a bottle of water from the venue, the only things he had were beer or vodka.
He settled for the vodka, since he'd already had a beer. Opening the bottle he chugged a load of the lukewarm liquid, only to throw it back up again.
As he retched he fell from his bunk, landing on the floor with a thud, he hit his head on the counter opposite. He could feel his heart racing, and his head pounding, he gasped for air but got nothing, he couldn't see, and was drenched in his own sweat. He threw up again, and coughed some more.
What the fuck's happening?! He thought frantically, still trying to breath, but failing. Where's the others?! He tried calling for them, but no noise came out.
He was kicking his legs madly now, trying to get into some position that would allow him to breath. He arched his spine back, and flew forward again, like he was made of fucking elastic. In doing so he hit his head again.
He'd stopped throwing up, but was clutching at his throat for air. It was like he'd forgotten how to breath. Twitching slightly, he shut his eyes. He didn't want to, he knew he wouldn't be able to wake up if he did, but it was so much easier than fighting any more. Life was painful, loud, confusing.
As he closed his eyes, his hand dropped from his throat, he felt the pot of pills fall from his jacket pocket and onto the ground, and he lay there, sprawled on the floor of the tour bus, drenched in his own sweat and sick, un-moving, barely breathing, his heart hardly beating, and welcomed the darkness as though it were an old friend.
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"DUDE!! I can't believe you just chugged 3 beers in two minutes!! What the hell man!"
Frank laughed, patting Ray on the back. As suspected, he'd been found at the bar of the venue.
When he asked about Gerard, Frank and Mikey explained he was tired and had stayed in the dressing room. Ray shrugged and bought them both pints.
After about thirty-five minutes, they'd decided to leave the bar, get Gerard from the dressing room, and head back to the tour bus.
When they approached, they knocked on the door and called his name, but there was no answer.
Frank opened the door, to find the room empty.
"Hmm..." He muttered.
"What is it?" Ray asked, from behind him.
"Nothing, he's probably already back at the bus, c'mon let's go." Frank answered.
The three of them headed out of the building, and stopped on the way to sign a few autographs for the kids on the other side of the fence.
"Can you tell Gerard to come out the bus!" One of them shouted, followed by "You guys were amazing tonight!"
"Aha, thanks!" Replied Frank, the taste of beer on his breath. "Yeah we'll see what we can do." He nodded and the three of them made their way to the bus.
When they reached the tour bus, they were all laughing among themselves at Mikey's facial expression when he tripped and almost fell face first to the floor.
"Seriously dude, you should have seen your face! And the noise you made! Oh my god..." Frank chuckled, as he opened the door to the bus.
"EUGH! What's that smell! Smell's like someone's puked their guts up in here..." Said Ray, but neither Frank, nor Mikey answered. They were both staring at the lifeless singer on the floor of their bus.
"What is it guy-..." Ray stopped as he too saw what they were staring at. "Holy shit..." He breathed.
Frank ran over to Gerard and tried to shake him awake, Mikey broke down in the corner of the bus and Ray held him tight, both of them were shaking, watching the small man scream at the un-moving Gerard Way.
"DON'T JUST SIT THERE! DO SOMETHING!! MIKEY! CALL JERRY!!" Frank yelled, surprisingly loud for someone of his build.
With shaking hands Mikey pulled the phone from his pocket, fumbling, he went through his contacts until he found Jerry's name.
Ray ran over to the sink and filled a cup with cold water, he ran back to Gerard and poured it on his face, nothing. The singer didn't even flinch.
"C'mon Gee, wake up! Why won't you fucking wake up!!" Frank cried, tears streaming down his face, gripping his unconscious friend by the collar of his shirt, and shaking him violently.
It was at this moment, when the one and only Bert McCracken ran into the bus, after hearing shouting noises from where The Used's bus was parked.
"What the fuck's going on guys?!" He shouted. Frank turned to face him, letting go of his best friend, and storming over to the other singer, grabbing him by the throat and pushing him against the wall.
"YOU! FUCKING YOU!! YOU DID THIS BERT! LOOK AT HIM!" He screamed.
"I...I don't know...W-what happened...!" Choked out Bert, gasping for air as the small man squeezed tight against his Adams Apple.
"YES YOU FUCKING DO!! YOU FUCKING JUNKIE!! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S BEEN SELLING HIM THE DRUGS AREN'T YOU?! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE! YOU'VE FUCKING KILLED HIM! YOU CUNT! I HATE YOU!!!!"
Bert tried pushing Frank away, while Mikey screamed down the phone at Jerry and Ray tried waking Gerard.
"Please...Frank, ...I don't know...I've never...P-Please, let go...You're hurting me..." Coughed Bert.
"OH, I'M FUCKING HURTING YOU AM I? LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO GERARD! I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOU MCCRACKEN. THIS IS YOUR. FUCKING. FAULT." He punched Bert in the stomach, with all the force he could muster, and watched as The Used's lead singer crumpled, but remained pinned against the wall by his throat.
He was gasping for breath and struggling against the smaller man's grip when Jerry ran onto the bus.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IERO?!" He shouted, tearing Frank away from Bert.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!"
Frank broke free of Jerry's grip and kicked Bert in the shin, watching as he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach as his lungs begged for air.
Jerry spun Frank around and made him sit on the bunk, with Mikey keeping hold of him, as he fell to the ground to help Gerard.
"What's happened?!" Asked Jerry.
"I don't know, we came back to the bus this evening and found him like this, then Bert arrived and so did you..." Answered Ray, tears streaming down his face.
"Do you think he's tried to kill himself? Did he seem depressed, did you see him overdosing or something?!" Questioned Jerry.
"He was feeling a bit low earlier, but he said he was just tired, I dunno, he looked more ill than anything." Said Mikey, quietly from the bunk. He had his arms around a shaking Frank.
"Okay, well Ray, you call 911, I'll try wake him up, Mikey, Frank, keep doing what you're doing, Bert, go back to your bus, we'll find out what happened later. Right now let's focus on keeping Gerard fucking alive! Okay!"
Jerry slapped Gerard's face, and shouted in his ear, but to no avail. He put his hand to Gerard's neck and was relived to find a pulse "HE'S ALIVE GUYS! HE HAS A PULSE!" He exclaimed. Frank put his hands to his mouth as tears of joy, now rolled down his cheeks.
Jerry turned the singer over and put him in the recovery position, and as he was doing so, found the bottle of pills that had fallen out the singers pocket earlier. With shaking hands, he picked them up. The lid was on, but half the pills had gone...Surely he hadn't OD'd on his own medication? He put them in his coat pocket for questioning later.
10 Minutes later, the ambulance arrived. Paramedics rushed onto the bus and carted the unconscious Gerard off on a stretcher, and into the back of the ambulance. One person was allowed to ride in the ambulance with him, Frank volunteered.
It seemed like forever, but eventually, they reached the hospital.
ANNNND, I'm gonna end it there. I figured this chapter is already kinda long, so I'll upload the rest another time. Please tell me what you think guys, what could be improved, and if you liked it? I dunno, it means a lot. Thanks if you read this the whole way through! (:
"THANK YOU JAPAN! WE HAVE BEEN MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, AND YOU HAVE BEEN AMAZING!"
Gerard roared, before exiting the stage after the encore. He was tired, sweaty, shaking, and hoarse. Slouching against the wall of his dressing room he reached for the beer cooler, pulling out a Budweiser as Mikey and Frank walked through the door.
"Great show tonight guys!" Frank squealed, excitedly, Mikey pulling a half grin in his direction.
Gerard didn't listen, he remained slouched on the floor, against the wall. His head was pounding and he needed sleep, his vision was blurred and his hands were shaking.
"You alright Gee? You look kinda ill man?" Asked Mikey, he sounded worried.
"I'm fine." Gerard stuttered, "J-Just tired is all."
This was a lie, he hadn't felt like this for ages now, he knew something was wrong, he tried to think back to before the show...Had he taken anything dodgy? He'd snorted some cocaine he got off a guy he met in a club the other night, and popped a few pills, but nothing out of the ordinary. And this was the first beer he'd had since the show had ended.
He felt his heart hammer against his chest, this wasn't right, he felt sick to his stomach, and a rush of dizziness flew to his head.
"You sure you're okay? You look like you're gonna pass out Gee?"
Fucking Mikey, why's he always so worried... Though Gerard.
"I'm fine Mikes, just l-leave it man..."
Mikey looked at Frank, who shrugged his shoulders, clearly Frank knew something was wrong, but didn't let on, either he was just as, if not more worried, or had given up caring.
"Wanna go find Ray? I think he might be at the bar?" Asked Frank, to Mikey.
"Yeah sure, you coming Gee?" Said Mikey.
"Nah it's f-f-fine. I'll stay here." He said, his shaking hands were causing Budweiser to be spilled on the floor slightly.
The guitarist and bassist shot him a worried look, but thought nothing of it and walked off to find Ray.
About ten minutes after they'd left the room, Gerard pulled himself up using the chair next to him, and stood still for about a minute or so, finding his balance. He signed the register and exited the venue, making his way to the tour bus. His vision was blurred and he could hear distant screams of fans calling for him from behind the mesh fence. He was tired, the only place he wanted to be was the tour bus, he focused on that, and that alone.
Staggering, he opened the door and clambered up the steps to the inside. He had sweat dripping from his forehead and was coughing half to death. Something was definitely up, he suspected it was the cocaine he'd taken before the show, he didn't know the guy who'd sold it to him, and he already had the pills on him at the time. His head felt like it was about to explode.
Gasping, he threw himself down onto his bunk, he felt a sick feeling in his stomach, and knew at some point he was going to throw up, but he couldn't bring himself to move from the bed. Desperately, he looked around for something to drink, anything. He wished he'd taken a bottle of water from the venue, the only things he had were beer or vodka.
He settled for the vodka, since he'd already had a beer. Opening the bottle he chugged a load of the lukewarm liquid, only to throw it back up again.
As he retched he fell from his bunk, landing on the floor with a thud, he hit his head on the counter opposite. He could feel his heart racing, and his head pounding, he gasped for air but got nothing, he couldn't see, and was drenched in his own sweat. He threw up again, and coughed some more.
What the fuck's happening?! He thought frantically, still trying to breath, but failing. Where's the others?! He tried calling for them, but no noise came out.
He was kicking his legs madly now, trying to get into some position that would allow him to breath. He arched his spine back, and flew forward again, like he was made of fucking elastic. In doing so he hit his head again.
He'd stopped throwing up, but was clutching at his throat for air. It was like he'd forgotten how to breath. Twitching slightly, he shut his eyes. He didn't want to, he knew he wouldn't be able to wake up if he did, but it was so much easier than fighting any more. Life was painful, loud, confusing.
As he closed his eyes, his hand dropped from his throat, he felt the pot of pills fall from his jacket pocket and onto the ground, and he lay there, sprawled on the floor of the tour bus, drenched in his own sweat and sick, un-moving, barely breathing, his heart hardly beating, and welcomed the darkness as though it were an old friend.
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"DUDE!! I can't believe you just chugged 3 beers in two minutes!! What the hell man!"
Frank laughed, patting Ray on the back. As suspected, he'd been found at the bar of the venue.
When he asked about Gerard, Frank and Mikey explained he was tired and had stayed in the dressing room. Ray shrugged and bought them both pints.
After about thirty-five minutes, they'd decided to leave the bar, get Gerard from the dressing room, and head back to the tour bus.
When they approached, they knocked on the door and called his name, but there was no answer.
Frank opened the door, to find the room empty.
"Hmm..." He muttered.
"What is it?" Ray asked, from behind him.
"Nothing, he's probably already back at the bus, c'mon let's go." Frank answered.
The three of them headed out of the building, and stopped on the way to sign a few autographs for the kids on the other side of the fence.
"Can you tell Gerard to come out the bus!" One of them shouted, followed by "You guys were amazing tonight!"
"Aha, thanks!" Replied Frank, the taste of beer on his breath. "Yeah we'll see what we can do." He nodded and the three of them made their way to the bus.
When they reached the tour bus, they were all laughing among themselves at Mikey's facial expression when he tripped and almost fell face first to the floor.
"Seriously dude, you should have seen your face! And the noise you made! Oh my god..." Frank chuckled, as he opened the door to the bus.
"EUGH! What's that smell! Smell's like someone's puked their guts up in here..." Said Ray, but neither Frank, nor Mikey answered. They were both staring at the lifeless singer on the floor of their bus.
"What is it guy-..." Ray stopped as he too saw what they were staring at. "Holy shit..." He breathed.
Frank ran over to Gerard and tried to shake him awake, Mikey broke down in the corner of the bus and Ray held him tight, both of them were shaking, watching the small man scream at the un-moving Gerard Way.
"DON'T JUST SIT THERE! DO SOMETHING!! MIKEY! CALL JERRY!!" Frank yelled, surprisingly loud for someone of his build.
With shaking hands Mikey pulled the phone from his pocket, fumbling, he went through his contacts until he found Jerry's name.
Ray ran over to the sink and filled a cup with cold water, he ran back to Gerard and poured it on his face, nothing. The singer didn't even flinch.
"C'mon Gee, wake up! Why won't you fucking wake up!!" Frank cried, tears streaming down his face, gripping his unconscious friend by the collar of his shirt, and shaking him violently.
It was at this moment, when the one and only Bert McCracken ran into the bus, after hearing shouting noises from where The Used's bus was parked.
"What the fuck's going on guys?!" He shouted. Frank turned to face him, letting go of his best friend, and storming over to the other singer, grabbing him by the throat and pushing him against the wall.
"YOU! FUCKING YOU!! YOU DID THIS BERT! LOOK AT HIM!" He screamed.
"I...I don't know...W-what happened...!" Choked out Bert, gasping for air as the small man squeezed tight against his Adams Apple.
"YES YOU FUCKING DO!! YOU FUCKING JUNKIE!! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S BEEN SELLING HIM THE DRUGS AREN'T YOU?! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE! YOU'VE FUCKING KILLED HIM! YOU CUNT! I HATE YOU!!!!"
Bert tried pushing Frank away, while Mikey screamed down the phone at Jerry and Ray tried waking Gerard.
"Please...Frank, ...I don't know...I've never...P-Please, let go...You're hurting me..." Coughed Bert.
"OH, I'M FUCKING HURTING YOU AM I? LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO GERARD! I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOU MCCRACKEN. THIS IS YOUR. FUCKING. FAULT." He punched Bert in the stomach, with all the force he could muster, and watched as The Used's lead singer crumpled, but remained pinned against the wall by his throat.
He was gasping for breath and struggling against the smaller man's grip when Jerry ran onto the bus.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IERO?!" He shouted, tearing Frank away from Bert.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!"
Frank broke free of Jerry's grip and kicked Bert in the shin, watching as he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach as his lungs begged for air.
Jerry spun Frank around and made him sit on the bunk, with Mikey keeping hold of him, as he fell to the ground to help Gerard.
"What's happened?!" Asked Jerry.
"I don't know, we came back to the bus this evening and found him like this, then Bert arrived and so did you..." Answered Ray, tears streaming down his face.
"Do you think he's tried to kill himself? Did he seem depressed, did you see him overdosing or something?!" Questioned Jerry.
"He was feeling a bit low earlier, but he said he was just tired, I dunno, he looked more ill than anything." Said Mikey, quietly from the bunk. He had his arms around a shaking Frank.
"Okay, well Ray, you call 911, I'll try wake him up, Mikey, Frank, keep doing what you're doing, Bert, go back to your bus, we'll find out what happened later. Right now let's focus on keeping Gerard fucking alive! Okay!"
Jerry slapped Gerard's face, and shouted in his ear, but to no avail. He put his hand to Gerard's neck and was relived to find a pulse "HE'S ALIVE GUYS! HE HAS A PULSE!" He exclaimed. Frank put his hands to his mouth as tears of joy, now rolled down his cheeks.
Jerry turned the singer over and put him in the recovery position, and as he was doing so, found the bottle of pills that had fallen out the singers pocket earlier. With shaking hands, he picked them up. The lid was on, but half the pills had gone...Surely he hadn't OD'd on his own medication? He put them in his coat pocket for questioning later.
10 Minutes later, the ambulance arrived. Paramedics rushed onto the bus and carted the unconscious Gerard off on a stretcher, and into the back of the ambulance. One person was allowed to ride in the ambulance with him, Frank volunteered.
It seemed like forever, but eventually, they reached the hospital.
ANNNND, I'm gonna end it there. I figured this chapter is already kinda long, so I'll upload the rest another time. Please tell me what you think guys, what could be improved, and if you liked it? I dunno, it means a lot. Thanks if you read this the whole way through! (:
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