Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Powerless
A/N: This is a short chapter, because the next one will be relatively long. Just a heads-up. Thank you for your continued support, it means the world to me!
“So, how do you plan to get us across the border?” I asked with doubt. “Do you think I could drive and you could get in the fucking trunk or something?”
Gerard burst out laughing unexpectedly, slapping his knees in pure implied amusement.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be nice to you now.” He said, calming himself down. “They no doubt have customs keeping an eye out for you by now. I’ve known guys who have been put on a watchlist after committing various crimes in the states – tried to pass the border via illegal unpatrolled gaps.”
“And…?”
“Let’s just say the gaps weren’t as unpatrolled as was expected.”
“Damn.” I sighed. “And I suppose the legal spots would be worse?”
“Yes and no. If we could get someone with a valid passport to take the car through, we could get past customs on foot, meet them on the other side, and basically beat it like a bat outta hell.”
“So does this mean we have a plan?”
“I think we do.” He grinned. “I’ve got a friend who can help us out; only lives an hour or two away.”
He got up and headed towards the door, dialling what I presumed to be the friend’s number on his phone.
“Jay?” He said. “My friend and I need some help crossing the border. You still in Mission?”
He paced around the doorway slowly.
“Brownsville. You know the drill.”
I followed him over to the door and waited as he finished his conversation.
“Okay.” He said to me, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “We gotta get going.”
We headed out the door and into the parking lot where the El Camino was parked. He got in and slammed the door shut hurriedly, and I of course followed suit.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Brownsville.” He answered. “Just outside of the border.”
The drive wasn’t as long as it had expected. Either that, or driving with Gerard didn’t seem so bad anymore. He always adopts this sense of mystery and concentration when he drives that fascinates me. His intense olive eyes fixated on the road ahead and the cracked window blowing his long dark hair in front of his face; it’s not exactly difficult to look at. In fact, there have been a couple of events as of recent where I’ve found myself unable to take my eyes off him.
Fucked up as it may or may not be, I’m falling for him. Hard.
How ironic is it that the only person I’ve ever truly let into my heart came into my life through a witnessed murder and consequential abduction?
We arrived at our destination, which wasn’t at all what I had expected it to be. Understandably, I was anticipating another half-torn-down bar or hotel of some sort, or maybe the basement of an old brick house. Something tough-looking and… well… mafia-esque. Not the small fielded area we were parked just outside; laced with greenery and pebbled walking trails.
“This is our meeting place?”
“Damn right.” He smiled. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, just not… what I was expecting.”
“What can I say, I’m unpredictable.”
And last night was all the proof that I could ever want or need of that.
He took my hand in his and led me out towards the middle of the field; then sat down and pulled me close to him. I wanted to say something, I wanted so badly to ask him what the hell was going on, and what he felt when he was close to me. But something stopped me.
Maybe it’s the fear that he’ll shoot you. He wouldn’t hesitate, as you must already know.
We lay in silence for what felt like a lifetime. My head on his chest, his arm around me, holding me tight, the cool breeze blowing the long grass beneath and around us.
Or maybe it’s just that I’m too scared to do anything that could even possibly ruin this moment.
“Gerard, wh-what is going on with this-“
“Jay!” He interrupted, sitting up and placing his hand on my shoulder.
“Gerard, long time no see.”
A polished, blonde man of 30-ish came and sat down beside Gerard, shaking his hand.
“So, what can I do ya for?” He smiled.
“My friend Frank and I need to get across the Mexican border. He’s high on the watchlist as of recent, and you know the deal with me…”
“Of course. Nice to meet you, Frank.” Jay said, turning to me to shake my hand. “You’re new to this, I take it?”
“Yeah. Long story…” I answered hesitantly.
“It’s similar to mine… except it wasn’t actually his fault.” Gerard laughed. “So, what’s the game plan?”
“How’s this sound; we get to customs. I’ll drive the car, you guys get into the back. Break the windows, and shoot the customs guards as soon as they ask for passports.”
“Isn’t that a bit risky?” I asked.
“Of course it’s fuckin’ risky.” Jay grinned knowingly. “As soon as you two start shooting, I’ll slam on the acceleration; keep shooting out the back if needed. It’s a 10 minute speed into the town; as soon as we get there, we trash the car, and you’re free to go… so long as you don’t go telling anyone you’re mass criminals. Sound good?”
“Let’s get going.” Gerard said, pulling me onto my feet and brushing some grass off my back.
Jay, who was already a few feet ahead of us, turned around for a second.
“You guys sure you’re only friends?” He chuckled a bit.
I turned to Gerard, whose face was flushed brighter than the red tie I first saw him in.
“Fuck.” He smiled, not daring to make eye contact with either myself or Jay. “Not important, we need to get going.”
He didn’t deny it. He didn’t fucking deny it.
Gerard, Jay, and I piled into the El Camino and drove off. Customs was only about a half-hour away, but yet again time didn’t seem constant as it should be. With Gerard in the back with me and his hand which slid inconspicuously over to mine, the ride seemed to barely even happen at all.
“Okay comrades, we’re getting close.” Jay announced, pulling over to the side of the road. “Get your shit together.”
Gerard pulled his leather bag up from the floor and passed me a pistol.
“You got one, Jay?” He asked.
“Don’t I always?”
He turned to me and flashed a quick smile.
“You okay?”
“I-I don’t wanna shoot...”
“Frank.” Jay said. “Gerard’ll cover for ya. Just try your best.”
“So, how do you plan to get us across the border?” I asked with doubt. “Do you think I could drive and you could get in the fucking trunk or something?”
Gerard burst out laughing unexpectedly, slapping his knees in pure implied amusement.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be nice to you now.” He said, calming himself down. “They no doubt have customs keeping an eye out for you by now. I’ve known guys who have been put on a watchlist after committing various crimes in the states – tried to pass the border via illegal unpatrolled gaps.”
“And…?”
“Let’s just say the gaps weren’t as unpatrolled as was expected.”
“Damn.” I sighed. “And I suppose the legal spots would be worse?”
“Yes and no. If we could get someone with a valid passport to take the car through, we could get past customs on foot, meet them on the other side, and basically beat it like a bat outta hell.”
“So does this mean we have a plan?”
“I think we do.” He grinned. “I’ve got a friend who can help us out; only lives an hour or two away.”
He got up and headed towards the door, dialling what I presumed to be the friend’s number on his phone.
“Jay?” He said. “My friend and I need some help crossing the border. You still in Mission?”
He paced around the doorway slowly.
“Brownsville. You know the drill.”
I followed him over to the door and waited as he finished his conversation.
“Okay.” He said to me, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “We gotta get going.”
We headed out the door and into the parking lot where the El Camino was parked. He got in and slammed the door shut hurriedly, and I of course followed suit.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Brownsville.” He answered. “Just outside of the border.”
The drive wasn’t as long as it had expected. Either that, or driving with Gerard didn’t seem so bad anymore. He always adopts this sense of mystery and concentration when he drives that fascinates me. His intense olive eyes fixated on the road ahead and the cracked window blowing his long dark hair in front of his face; it’s not exactly difficult to look at. In fact, there have been a couple of events as of recent where I’ve found myself unable to take my eyes off him.
Fucked up as it may or may not be, I’m falling for him. Hard.
How ironic is it that the only person I’ve ever truly let into my heart came into my life through a witnessed murder and consequential abduction?
We arrived at our destination, which wasn’t at all what I had expected it to be. Understandably, I was anticipating another half-torn-down bar or hotel of some sort, or maybe the basement of an old brick house. Something tough-looking and… well… mafia-esque. Not the small fielded area we were parked just outside; laced with greenery and pebbled walking trails.
“This is our meeting place?”
“Damn right.” He smiled. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, just not… what I was expecting.”
“What can I say, I’m unpredictable.”
And last night was all the proof that I could ever want or need of that.
He took my hand in his and led me out towards the middle of the field; then sat down and pulled me close to him. I wanted to say something, I wanted so badly to ask him what the hell was going on, and what he felt when he was close to me. But something stopped me.
Maybe it’s the fear that he’ll shoot you. He wouldn’t hesitate, as you must already know.
We lay in silence for what felt like a lifetime. My head on his chest, his arm around me, holding me tight, the cool breeze blowing the long grass beneath and around us.
Or maybe it’s just that I’m too scared to do anything that could even possibly ruin this moment.
“Gerard, wh-what is going on with this-“
“Jay!” He interrupted, sitting up and placing his hand on my shoulder.
“Gerard, long time no see.”
A polished, blonde man of 30-ish came and sat down beside Gerard, shaking his hand.
“So, what can I do ya for?” He smiled.
“My friend Frank and I need to get across the Mexican border. He’s high on the watchlist as of recent, and you know the deal with me…”
“Of course. Nice to meet you, Frank.” Jay said, turning to me to shake my hand. “You’re new to this, I take it?”
“Yeah. Long story…” I answered hesitantly.
“It’s similar to mine… except it wasn’t actually his fault.” Gerard laughed. “So, what’s the game plan?”
“How’s this sound; we get to customs. I’ll drive the car, you guys get into the back. Break the windows, and shoot the customs guards as soon as they ask for passports.”
“Isn’t that a bit risky?” I asked.
“Of course it’s fuckin’ risky.” Jay grinned knowingly. “As soon as you two start shooting, I’ll slam on the acceleration; keep shooting out the back if needed. It’s a 10 minute speed into the town; as soon as we get there, we trash the car, and you’re free to go… so long as you don’t go telling anyone you’re mass criminals. Sound good?”
“Let’s get going.” Gerard said, pulling me onto my feet and brushing some grass off my back.
Jay, who was already a few feet ahead of us, turned around for a second.
“You guys sure you’re only friends?” He chuckled a bit.
I turned to Gerard, whose face was flushed brighter than the red tie I first saw him in.
“Fuck.” He smiled, not daring to make eye contact with either myself or Jay. “Not important, we need to get going.”
He didn’t deny it. He didn’t fucking deny it.
Gerard, Jay, and I piled into the El Camino and drove off. Customs was only about a half-hour away, but yet again time didn’t seem constant as it should be. With Gerard in the back with me and his hand which slid inconspicuously over to mine, the ride seemed to barely even happen at all.
“Okay comrades, we’re getting close.” Jay announced, pulling over to the side of the road. “Get your shit together.”
Gerard pulled his leather bag up from the floor and passed me a pistol.
“You got one, Jay?” He asked.
“Don’t I always?”
He turned to me and flashed a quick smile.
“You okay?”
“I-I don’t wanna shoot...”
“Frank.” Jay said. “Gerard’ll cover for ya. Just try your best.”
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