Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Recovery
I stared out the window at the black, velvet, night sky. It was a cool, clear night here in Jersey. The moon was just a silver sliver in the night and the air tasted fresh as I slipped out the window into the night. I'd felt so caged in lately. I just needed a break.
Standing on the window sill, I made the jump to the oak tree's branch easily and slowly dropped down. The night felt like it held a sort of magic. It felt alive. I headed towards the sidewalk to the tune of The Misfits playing from my earbuds. I set course towards downtown.
I took a moment to enjoy the way the street lamps looked like low hanging stars-well, at least the ones that weren't broken did. The ground beneath me felt so solid and the sky above me was so vast and empty. I felt at peace.
As I got closer though, I felt the anticipation building. It was gonna be an awesome show. It always was. As I got to the sketchy sorta-downtown-but-not-really area I spotted the familiar eery, dull green light coming from the stairs to the basement of the little hole-in-the-wall toe venue. I practically skipped down the deteriorating steps to the matte, black door with the crimson hand print. "Crimson" as it was called, was the best venue in town. The acts were always good and normally pretty underground.
I opened the door and slipped in silently a high school band was warming up. The black walls were covered in fluorescent hand prints and quotes scrawled on the wall. I walked over to "my booth" where "Iero" was written with a star around it and saw there was a fresh lipstick stain net to it. It always amused me that girls here loved me while at school I was knocked around. I was everyone's example for sin at my catholic school and couldn't wait to change schools. I played with my snake bites with my teeth and headed to the bar.
Bones, the bald, muscular bartender, gave me a beer from the tap and I gave him he usual $10 tip for not carding me. My friend, Khate (pronounced like Kate) made her way through the crowd to me. The scarlet lights made her hot pink hair look blood red. She was in a leather corset and leather pants. She looked like a biker with the way her piercingly made her look rough. The "Frank Iero Was Here" tattoo on her lower stomach was just barely showing.
"How's the King of Punk?" she asked with a sly smile.
"Fine. How's the Queen of Hell?"
"Fan-fucking-tastic." she said as she lit ups cigarette.
As the night went on, the band was killer, but I felt the urge to leave. I started to head toward toward the door when I saw him. He was somehow here. Across the room under the bar lights, stood Gerard. Under the red lights and dressed in black, he looked like a force of rebellion. Beer in hand, he swayed softly to the music. He looked so graceful, yet so out of place I'd never seen him here before and I'm fairly certain I'd remember his face.
After a brief internal debate, I went from my booth to the bar and snuck up behind him. I tapped his shoulder and he jumped, spilling a bit of beer on the ground. He spun around angrily, but his expression immediately softened.
"Frank?"
"Yeah," I said saluting. "The one and only."
"When'd you get here?"
"About midnight. You?"
"I only got here ten minutes ago. The band's pretty good. Beer's good. Seems like a cool place." he said, scratching his head.
"Tonight's your first night, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he admitted sheepishly. "I saw the lights and thought it looked cool, so I headed down and now I'm here." He seemed to perk up a bit as we talked. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Khate leave with some guy with green hair.
"Let me guess; you snuck out?" I asked with a smirk.
"Yeah." he said with a grin. He seemed so much more relaxed here than in PHP. I noticed how gorgeous his eyes were. They had this beautiful depth to them-wait. Beautiful? Gorgeous? I couldn't fathom why I was so drawn to him. That's when I realized I had been standing there, awkwardly gazing into his eyes.
"So..." I said awkwardly. "I was actually planning on leaving. After this band, you wanna get outta here?"
"Uh, sure." he said while nonchalantly running a hand though his messy hair. We went back to the crowd and enjoyed the rest of the set. I spent a lot of the time watching Gerard's reactions. He seemed so lost in the music and lights. He watched the band play with this sort of childlike wonder in his eyes that amused me.It was like he was in a daydream. When the set ended and the next band started setting up, he looked distraught.
"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling concerned.
"Could we stay for a few more songs?" he said. He sounded desprate as if saying no would crush him.
"Sure. No problem," I said "I'm going to get another beer. You want one?"
"Sure." His grin returned. It made him look like he knew something he knew you'd be dying to hear.
I went and got the two beers and when I got back I just couldn't stop myself. I was fixated on the amazement in his eyes. The smile on his face was huge as the first note ripped from the guitar.
He turned towards me and our eyes met. His grin widened and something moved deep inside me. It terrified me.
Standing on the window sill, I made the jump to the oak tree's branch easily and slowly dropped down. The night felt like it held a sort of magic. It felt alive. I headed towards the sidewalk to the tune of The Misfits playing from my earbuds. I set course towards downtown.
I took a moment to enjoy the way the street lamps looked like low hanging stars-well, at least the ones that weren't broken did. The ground beneath me felt so solid and the sky above me was so vast and empty. I felt at peace.
As I got closer though, I felt the anticipation building. It was gonna be an awesome show. It always was. As I got to the sketchy sorta-downtown-but-not-really area I spotted the familiar eery, dull green light coming from the stairs to the basement of the little hole-in-the-wall toe venue. I practically skipped down the deteriorating steps to the matte, black door with the crimson hand print. "Crimson" as it was called, was the best venue in town. The acts were always good and normally pretty underground.
I opened the door and slipped in silently a high school band was warming up. The black walls were covered in fluorescent hand prints and quotes scrawled on the wall. I walked over to "my booth" where "Iero" was written with a star around it and saw there was a fresh lipstick stain net to it. It always amused me that girls here loved me while at school I was knocked around. I was everyone's example for sin at my catholic school and couldn't wait to change schools. I played with my snake bites with my teeth and headed to the bar.
Bones, the bald, muscular bartender, gave me a beer from the tap and I gave him he usual $10 tip for not carding me. My friend, Khate (pronounced like Kate) made her way through the crowd to me. The scarlet lights made her hot pink hair look blood red. She was in a leather corset and leather pants. She looked like a biker with the way her piercingly made her look rough. The "Frank Iero Was Here" tattoo on her lower stomach was just barely showing.
"How's the King of Punk?" she asked with a sly smile.
"Fine. How's the Queen of Hell?"
"Fan-fucking-tastic." she said as she lit ups cigarette.
As the night went on, the band was killer, but I felt the urge to leave. I started to head toward toward the door when I saw him. He was somehow here. Across the room under the bar lights, stood Gerard. Under the red lights and dressed in black, he looked like a force of rebellion. Beer in hand, he swayed softly to the music. He looked so graceful, yet so out of place I'd never seen him here before and I'm fairly certain I'd remember his face.
After a brief internal debate, I went from my booth to the bar and snuck up behind him. I tapped his shoulder and he jumped, spilling a bit of beer on the ground. He spun around angrily, but his expression immediately softened.
"Frank?"
"Yeah," I said saluting. "The one and only."
"When'd you get here?"
"About midnight. You?"
"I only got here ten minutes ago. The band's pretty good. Beer's good. Seems like a cool place." he said, scratching his head.
"Tonight's your first night, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he admitted sheepishly. "I saw the lights and thought it looked cool, so I headed down and now I'm here." He seemed to perk up a bit as we talked. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Khate leave with some guy with green hair.
"Let me guess; you snuck out?" I asked with a smirk.
"Yeah." he said with a grin. He seemed so much more relaxed here than in PHP. I noticed how gorgeous his eyes were. They had this beautiful depth to them-wait. Beautiful? Gorgeous? I couldn't fathom why I was so drawn to him. That's when I realized I had been standing there, awkwardly gazing into his eyes.
"So..." I said awkwardly. "I was actually planning on leaving. After this band, you wanna get outta here?"
"Uh, sure." he said while nonchalantly running a hand though his messy hair. We went back to the crowd and enjoyed the rest of the set. I spent a lot of the time watching Gerard's reactions. He seemed so lost in the music and lights. He watched the band play with this sort of childlike wonder in his eyes that amused me.It was like he was in a daydream. When the set ended and the next band started setting up, he looked distraught.
"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling concerned.
"Could we stay for a few more songs?" he said. He sounded desprate as if saying no would crush him.
"Sure. No problem," I said "I'm going to get another beer. You want one?"
"Sure." His grin returned. It made him look like he knew something he knew you'd be dying to hear.
I went and got the two beers and when I got back I just couldn't stop myself. I was fixated on the amazement in his eyes. The smile on his face was huge as the first note ripped from the guitar.
He turned towards me and our eyes met. His grin widened and something moved deep inside me. It terrified me.
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