Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Past Memories
The Past Can Be Haunting...
9 reviewsAs a teen, Isabella was best friends with Gerard Way. After a fight, they never quite talked to eachother. Until now, when Isabella's job brings her to, where else? Back with Gerard and his band on...
1Original
I sighed, flipping to another page. My past was staring back at me, in the form of an ominous scrapbook I made when I was what, 15? That was so long ago, compared to myself now, 28 years old and an aspiring music producer.
I looked down. The page was almost exactly the same as the last, pictures of me and several friends crowded around outside school. My thoughts wandered. I remembered thinking that there was no place in the world that was better than my little hometown. Belleville, New Jersey was hardly anything near that, and since then my opinion has changed to my belief that New York is the greatest city in the world, but in those days I probably only felt that way because I pretty much ruled it.
As a freshman, my looks were the only things that made me popular. This of course was because I happened to have "very womanly curves," as my mother put it. In short: while all the girls were squeezing their chests into B-cupped bras, my boobs were stuffed into D's. I was also very tall, so that instead of getting whistles from guys my age, I was being whistled at by men in their late twenties.
All of that put a lot of pressure on me, and not long after it all started I was getting depressed about it.
This is the point where HE came in. Since the age of 5, our parents had always brought us over to each other's houses for play-dates, and it continued until I went into high school. He and I were best friends, and even his little brother grew on me after a while.
At around my eighth grade year, he was in ninth, and we drifted apart. Then I was back in the same school, and we were friends for a while. Then the popularity came, and we drifted apart again.
When my depression was hitting, I looked for his help, only to find that he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. This only threw me into more sadness, and the day of his graduation, I went, just to see if I could at least wish him good luck in the real world.
All I said to him was, "I'm sorry for it all. It wasn't supposed to happen. Good luck." And he was gone. I haven't seen him since then, except on T.V. I guess that's where that little "good luck" took him. The top of stardom, where he was free to forget all about me.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I had no idea why I was crying. I guess I could honestly say I missed him.
My cell phone rang, scaring me out of my moment of thought. The tiny display screen flashed, "Tony Baby." I didn't want to answer, but I did anyway.
"Tony? What's up?" I tried to sound casual.
"Hey Izzy-Belly! I got you a new job, honey, that's what's up!" Don't ask me why he always called me "Honey," seeing as he was as gay as they come. I also hated when he called me "Izzy-Belly." But I shook it off this time, knowing my job was more important. Tony is what you could call my rep. He finds me all kinds of jobs in the music world, from being an assistant to a band or a journalist to travel on tour. Mostly nowadays, I was getting jobs as Assistant Tour Manager or something like that.
"And that job would be...?" I replied.
"You're on tour for the next five months as Assistant Tour Manager!" He always sounded so cheerful when he called, like the job I'd had for the last year and a half was super-exciting.
"Should I even ask who?" I had to ask him.
"Well, it's this band, they're touring for their new record, um...here, hang on, let me grab the paper...oh! Their name is...uh, My Chemical Romance?" Tony said.
I dropped the phone.
Gerard Way had once again ruined my life.
I looked down. The page was almost exactly the same as the last, pictures of me and several friends crowded around outside school. My thoughts wandered. I remembered thinking that there was no place in the world that was better than my little hometown. Belleville, New Jersey was hardly anything near that, and since then my opinion has changed to my belief that New York is the greatest city in the world, but in those days I probably only felt that way because I pretty much ruled it.
As a freshman, my looks were the only things that made me popular. This of course was because I happened to have "very womanly curves," as my mother put it. In short: while all the girls were squeezing their chests into B-cupped bras, my boobs were stuffed into D's. I was also very tall, so that instead of getting whistles from guys my age, I was being whistled at by men in their late twenties.
All of that put a lot of pressure on me, and not long after it all started I was getting depressed about it.
This is the point where HE came in. Since the age of 5, our parents had always brought us over to each other's houses for play-dates, and it continued until I went into high school. He and I were best friends, and even his little brother grew on me after a while.
At around my eighth grade year, he was in ninth, and we drifted apart. Then I was back in the same school, and we were friends for a while. Then the popularity came, and we drifted apart again.
When my depression was hitting, I looked for his help, only to find that he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. This only threw me into more sadness, and the day of his graduation, I went, just to see if I could at least wish him good luck in the real world.
All I said to him was, "I'm sorry for it all. It wasn't supposed to happen. Good luck." And he was gone. I haven't seen him since then, except on T.V. I guess that's where that little "good luck" took him. The top of stardom, where he was free to forget all about me.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I had no idea why I was crying. I guess I could honestly say I missed him.
My cell phone rang, scaring me out of my moment of thought. The tiny display screen flashed, "Tony Baby." I didn't want to answer, but I did anyway.
"Tony? What's up?" I tried to sound casual.
"Hey Izzy-Belly! I got you a new job, honey, that's what's up!" Don't ask me why he always called me "Honey," seeing as he was as gay as they come. I also hated when he called me "Izzy-Belly." But I shook it off this time, knowing my job was more important. Tony is what you could call my rep. He finds me all kinds of jobs in the music world, from being an assistant to a band or a journalist to travel on tour. Mostly nowadays, I was getting jobs as Assistant Tour Manager or something like that.
"And that job would be...?" I replied.
"You're on tour for the next five months as Assistant Tour Manager!" He always sounded so cheerful when he called, like the job I'd had for the last year and a half was super-exciting.
"Should I even ask who?" I had to ask him.
"Well, it's this band, they're touring for their new record, um...here, hang on, let me grab the paper...oh! Their name is...uh, My Chemical Romance?" Tony said.
I dropped the phone.
Gerard Way had once again ruined my life.
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