Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Downward Spiral
As I lay, trying to get to sleep that night, I could only think of how I'd gotten myself here. To think it was almost pure luck that I was even living in New Jersey, yet knowing I'd have to move soon and probably struggle through beauty school and attempt a passing grade, even now, makes me grateful.
I gave up trying to sleep, feeling trapped being lying what may as well have been on top of Gerard with Bert snuggled next to us, his knees up the wall. Instead, I let myself drift into a place somewhere between sleeping and waking. I was quite content to relax all my muscles and allow my mind free reign to think what it willed.
I was all but asleep at one point.
But, in the back of my mind (which, during twilight hours, often becomes the forefront of your mind) I knew that, though Bert was most definitely asleep (and by the sounds of it, dreaming of the attack of the purple underwear), and though I could hear at least two others snoring, Gerard wasn't. His breathing was too quick for him to be asleep ? unless he was dreaming, but what happened next convinced me otherwise.
"Love you," The words whispered from above me. I stopped moving. Even stopped breathing. Slowly, I released my held breath. The rise and fall of Gerard's chest slowed, indicating sleep had consumed what was probably a troubled mind.
Slowly, but surely, a grin formed on my face. It grew until I was grinning like a Cheshire cat. My heart was in my throat as I carefully picked my head up to study the sleeping face above me.
As carefully as I could, I shifted myself further up the bed before lying my head (with difficulty considering I had to move Bert's head first) next to Gerard's. I lay there, just staring at him, drinking in everything, reserving it to memory. His mouth was open slightly as he slept peacefully ? more peacefully than I had seen in a while.
"Love you too,"
"WAKEY, WAKEY!" Apparently I had fallen asleep. I batted my hand around above me, connecting with something soft and slightly wet. "AHHH! SHE HIT MY MOUF!" Came a muffled call from above me.
"Eww," I grumbled out, wiping my hand on someone's clothing.
"COME ON! UP!"
"For fucks sake Bert," I grumbled again, snuggling closer to the stirring form next to me. "Just do what everyone else does, chuck something over us," There was a momentary silence before a weight shifted off the bed, landing on the floor with a thud.
I opened my eyes and prodded at Gerard's forehead.
"Come on, up," I croaked before coughing lightly. "Before Bert does it for me," Groaning, he opened his eyes. He smiled at me; a solemn smile that me want to confess everything from last night.
And maybe I would have if SOMEONE hadn't chucked what felt like a bucket of water over us.
Gasping for breath, I quickly clambered over Gerard before making an attempt at grabbing Bert.
"GET BACK HERE YOU BASTARD!"
I never caught him. In fact, I gave in ? the little imp MUST have run in the Olympics, right?
Instead, I collapsed next to Gerard at the table, peering over his shoulder at his laptop.
"What ya doing?" I asked, grinning as he attempted to hide the screen.
"Nothing! Just..." He trailed off.
"Just...answering fan mail? Answering love mail?" I mocked gasping. "You're cheating on me with a slut that lives half way across the world!" His eyes narrowed at me.
"Sam I'd-"
"Never do that, I know. So what's the big secret?" Sighing, he turned the laptop back to face me.
I giggled.
It was all I could do.
"Aww, I remember being like that!" I said as I read a message on the screen. It was the basic, badly spelt, hyper message you'd expect from a female groupie sent over myspace. I bit my lip as I read onwards, urging him to open the next ones too and to actually let me read them.
Not all of them were from apparent groupie fans. Some made you think, others about bought me to tears.
After one of them that nearly made me cry, I was caught wiping my eyes. Gerard's arm came around my shoulders, pulling me closer while he clicked around for the next message.
"If you think they're bad," He whispered as a black mass, humming what sounded vaguely like the teenage mutant ninja turtles theme, shot past. "You should read the replies to the notices on the band account," I looked up.
"They get worse?" He nodded.
"They're perhaps slightly more...heart-felt. Not that these aren't, but sometimes these can seem like they're just...messages that are guaranteed to be read. The replies on there..." He took a deep breath. "There's no saying they'll all be read, but we do try, you don't have to be friends to post ? though you don't to mail either. It just always seems more..." He shrugged. "It just seems a little less like a call for attention," I nodded.
"Well, maybe I'll read them when I'm a little less close to a breakdown," He gave a lop sided grin before reading the last message in the inbox ('for now', I noted in my head).
Once he'd finished, I peered up at him, pouting.
"What?" He asked, looking down at me.
"Can I have a turn?" Smiling, he put both arms around my shoulders.
"Feel free," Smiling; I turned the screen towards me slightly before clacking away on the keys. I was constantly aware of the fact I was being watched like a hawk which, though I had just read all of Gerard's massages over his shoulder, annoyed me beyond compare.
Reluctantly, I logged onto Quizilla(.com) and checked my mail. My one and only message was from a friend I had been a religious reviewer of.
FROM:AlamedaGreen
TO:854439
SENT: Thu Aug 12 20:27:03 2004
A REPLY TO:52384395:
"Right, and pig's fly. Just imagine, though: Gerard Way with short hair. shudder"
------------------------
LMMFAO! I couldn't imagine it until a few days ago. Wow. Who knew someone could change their looks so much and still look sexy?
Have you heard about the new 'development'? Check out the journal posts if you don't, though it'd be unlike you not to know...
------------------------
Even by the end of my message I was blushing several shades of red. Many of them undiscovered until then.
Curiosity made me forget about that momentarily as I clicked back onto the homepage and then on 'gerardway' in the tag section.
Scrolling down, I came to the journal posts. Fourth from the bottom was one labelled:
'A GIRLFRIEND!? WTF!?'
Gingerly, I clicked on the link, bracing myself for abuse.
I scan read the journal post. It was actually only bringing up the subject, not any girlfriend bashing going on, so I was safe.
One had a link on so, opening it in a new window, I read the message:
'Shes in the bgrnd @ da VRY bak. I highlited her in ma movie prog so ull be able 2 c her. C the eyes she gives him?'
Poor grammar aside, I turned my attention to the video playing through youtube. It was, indeed, a clip of me from what I assumed was the making of video for The Ghost Of You.
"I'm telling you, Quizilla is the worst place for gossip. One person says something, everybody knows. I have not seen a site like it. All Internet rumours, I would say, start there. They END there too, quite often, thinking about it," I told Gerard aimlessly as I scrolled through the sudden influx of journal posts and quizzes calling me blind while he absent-mindedly twirled my hair.
So far, only ONE person had got it right on who I was, to which I sent them a message asking them how they knew that.
"Your hair needs a trim," I stopped scrolling for a moment as Gerard twirled my hair between his fingers.
"Oh, how romantic," I smiled, remembering one of the first few quizzes I'd ever taken on Quizilla. "Y'know, there are quizzes on here that give you meanings for everything romantic,"
"Really? So what does it say about hair twirling? If that's at all romantic after being told your hair needs a trim because of all the split and dry ends..." I looked at him, mouth open.
"Well, I'm not telling you now!" Smiling, he rested his head on my shoulder, hair still being twisted and turned between his fingers.
"Aw, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so cruel,"
"Yes you did and you know it," I saw him pout from the corner of my eye. Even without looking, I knew the puppy dog eyes were out too ? even the image in my head could make me cave. Which it did, of course. "Fine, I forgive you,"
"Yay," There was a brief moments silence during which Frank fell down the stairs, Mikey attempted to beat up Bob and Bert reappeared from nowhere. God knows where the rest of his band was. Probably actually being a band instead of playing either 'Mission Impossible: Bert's Revenge' or one that had given us all a good laugh: 'Attack of the purple underwear II'. Right now, he seemed to be happy with: 'Roll over, fetch, play dead' which basically consisted of giving him a prize if he could play dead for an hour.
Yes, all the game's had names. Yes, I remember them. Yes, I was dropped on my head as a baby, why do you ask?
"So, what does this quiz say about playing with people's hair?" I smiled slightly before quickly debating in my head whether I should do it or not: 'I could say it while he was asleep, how is this any difference? Well, he's awake so he'll have to react instead of snoring...'
I sighed and looked at him, resting my forehead against his.
3...
2...
1...
"I love you," I swear, the whole bus and what felt like several miles around the bus became suddenly silent. An unusual thing considering Bert on his own could generate enough noise for three.
I looked over to what now looked like someone had pressed 'stop' on a video: Mikey was still attempting to beat up Bob, his fist raised in mock anger, Bert was still lying on the floor but now staring at us and Frank, who had apparently come back, was still in the action of pouring coffee.
"Come on," I whispered, taking Gerard's hand and pulling him out of the bus.
I gave up trying to sleep, feeling trapped being lying what may as well have been on top of Gerard with Bert snuggled next to us, his knees up the wall. Instead, I let myself drift into a place somewhere between sleeping and waking. I was quite content to relax all my muscles and allow my mind free reign to think what it willed.
I was all but asleep at one point.
But, in the back of my mind (which, during twilight hours, often becomes the forefront of your mind) I knew that, though Bert was most definitely asleep (and by the sounds of it, dreaming of the attack of the purple underwear), and though I could hear at least two others snoring, Gerard wasn't. His breathing was too quick for him to be asleep ? unless he was dreaming, but what happened next convinced me otherwise.
"Love you," The words whispered from above me. I stopped moving. Even stopped breathing. Slowly, I released my held breath. The rise and fall of Gerard's chest slowed, indicating sleep had consumed what was probably a troubled mind.
Slowly, but surely, a grin formed on my face. It grew until I was grinning like a Cheshire cat. My heart was in my throat as I carefully picked my head up to study the sleeping face above me.
As carefully as I could, I shifted myself further up the bed before lying my head (with difficulty considering I had to move Bert's head first) next to Gerard's. I lay there, just staring at him, drinking in everything, reserving it to memory. His mouth was open slightly as he slept peacefully ? more peacefully than I had seen in a while.
"Love you too,"
"WAKEY, WAKEY!" Apparently I had fallen asleep. I batted my hand around above me, connecting with something soft and slightly wet. "AHHH! SHE HIT MY MOUF!" Came a muffled call from above me.
"Eww," I grumbled out, wiping my hand on someone's clothing.
"COME ON! UP!"
"For fucks sake Bert," I grumbled again, snuggling closer to the stirring form next to me. "Just do what everyone else does, chuck something over us," There was a momentary silence before a weight shifted off the bed, landing on the floor with a thud.
I opened my eyes and prodded at Gerard's forehead.
"Come on, up," I croaked before coughing lightly. "Before Bert does it for me," Groaning, he opened his eyes. He smiled at me; a solemn smile that me want to confess everything from last night.
And maybe I would have if SOMEONE hadn't chucked what felt like a bucket of water over us.
Gasping for breath, I quickly clambered over Gerard before making an attempt at grabbing Bert.
"GET BACK HERE YOU BASTARD!"
I never caught him. In fact, I gave in ? the little imp MUST have run in the Olympics, right?
Instead, I collapsed next to Gerard at the table, peering over his shoulder at his laptop.
"What ya doing?" I asked, grinning as he attempted to hide the screen.
"Nothing! Just..." He trailed off.
"Just...answering fan mail? Answering love mail?" I mocked gasping. "You're cheating on me with a slut that lives half way across the world!" His eyes narrowed at me.
"Sam I'd-"
"Never do that, I know. So what's the big secret?" Sighing, he turned the laptop back to face me.
I giggled.
It was all I could do.
"Aww, I remember being like that!" I said as I read a message on the screen. It was the basic, badly spelt, hyper message you'd expect from a female groupie sent over myspace. I bit my lip as I read onwards, urging him to open the next ones too and to actually let me read them.
Not all of them were from apparent groupie fans. Some made you think, others about bought me to tears.
After one of them that nearly made me cry, I was caught wiping my eyes. Gerard's arm came around my shoulders, pulling me closer while he clicked around for the next message.
"If you think they're bad," He whispered as a black mass, humming what sounded vaguely like the teenage mutant ninja turtles theme, shot past. "You should read the replies to the notices on the band account," I looked up.
"They get worse?" He nodded.
"They're perhaps slightly more...heart-felt. Not that these aren't, but sometimes these can seem like they're just...messages that are guaranteed to be read. The replies on there..." He took a deep breath. "There's no saying they'll all be read, but we do try, you don't have to be friends to post ? though you don't to mail either. It just always seems more..." He shrugged. "It just seems a little less like a call for attention," I nodded.
"Well, maybe I'll read them when I'm a little less close to a breakdown," He gave a lop sided grin before reading the last message in the inbox ('for now', I noted in my head).
Once he'd finished, I peered up at him, pouting.
"What?" He asked, looking down at me.
"Can I have a turn?" Smiling, he put both arms around my shoulders.
"Feel free," Smiling; I turned the screen towards me slightly before clacking away on the keys. I was constantly aware of the fact I was being watched like a hawk which, though I had just read all of Gerard's massages over his shoulder, annoyed me beyond compare.
Reluctantly, I logged onto Quizilla(.com) and checked my mail. My one and only message was from a friend I had been a religious reviewer of.
FROM:AlamedaGreen
TO:854439
SENT: Thu Aug 12 20:27:03 2004
A REPLY TO:52384395:
"Right, and pig's fly. Just imagine, though: Gerard Way with short hair. shudder"
------------------------
LMMFAO! I couldn't imagine it until a few days ago. Wow. Who knew someone could change their looks so much and still look sexy?
Have you heard about the new 'development'? Check out the journal posts if you don't, though it'd be unlike you not to know...
------------------------
Even by the end of my message I was blushing several shades of red. Many of them undiscovered until then.
Curiosity made me forget about that momentarily as I clicked back onto the homepage and then on 'gerardway' in the tag section.
Scrolling down, I came to the journal posts. Fourth from the bottom was one labelled:
'A GIRLFRIEND!? WTF!?'
Gingerly, I clicked on the link, bracing myself for abuse.
I scan read the journal post. It was actually only bringing up the subject, not any girlfriend bashing going on, so I was safe.
One had a link on so, opening it in a new window, I read the message:
'Shes in the bgrnd @ da VRY bak. I highlited her in ma movie prog so ull be able 2 c her. C the eyes she gives him?'
Poor grammar aside, I turned my attention to the video playing through youtube. It was, indeed, a clip of me from what I assumed was the making of video for The Ghost Of You.
"I'm telling you, Quizilla is the worst place for gossip. One person says something, everybody knows. I have not seen a site like it. All Internet rumours, I would say, start there. They END there too, quite often, thinking about it," I told Gerard aimlessly as I scrolled through the sudden influx of journal posts and quizzes calling me blind while he absent-mindedly twirled my hair.
So far, only ONE person had got it right on who I was, to which I sent them a message asking them how they knew that.
"Your hair needs a trim," I stopped scrolling for a moment as Gerard twirled my hair between his fingers.
"Oh, how romantic," I smiled, remembering one of the first few quizzes I'd ever taken on Quizilla. "Y'know, there are quizzes on here that give you meanings for everything romantic,"
"Really? So what does it say about hair twirling? If that's at all romantic after being told your hair needs a trim because of all the split and dry ends..." I looked at him, mouth open.
"Well, I'm not telling you now!" Smiling, he rested his head on my shoulder, hair still being twisted and turned between his fingers.
"Aw, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so cruel,"
"Yes you did and you know it," I saw him pout from the corner of my eye. Even without looking, I knew the puppy dog eyes were out too ? even the image in my head could make me cave. Which it did, of course. "Fine, I forgive you,"
"Yay," There was a brief moments silence during which Frank fell down the stairs, Mikey attempted to beat up Bob and Bert reappeared from nowhere. God knows where the rest of his band was. Probably actually being a band instead of playing either 'Mission Impossible: Bert's Revenge' or one that had given us all a good laugh: 'Attack of the purple underwear II'. Right now, he seemed to be happy with: 'Roll over, fetch, play dead' which basically consisted of giving him a prize if he could play dead for an hour.
Yes, all the game's had names. Yes, I remember them. Yes, I was dropped on my head as a baby, why do you ask?
"So, what does this quiz say about playing with people's hair?" I smiled slightly before quickly debating in my head whether I should do it or not: 'I could say it while he was asleep, how is this any difference? Well, he's awake so he'll have to react instead of snoring...'
I sighed and looked at him, resting my forehead against his.
3...
2...
1...
"I love you," I swear, the whole bus and what felt like several miles around the bus became suddenly silent. An unusual thing considering Bert on his own could generate enough noise for three.
I looked over to what now looked like someone had pressed 'stop' on a video: Mikey was still attempting to beat up Bob, his fist raised in mock anger, Bert was still lying on the floor but now staring at us and Frank, who had apparently come back, was still in the action of pouring coffee.
"Come on," I whispered, taking Gerard's hand and pulling him out of the bus.
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