Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Summer Wine
A/N: Right, thanks to Tragic failing me at the moment (I will still try to get something done on it) I got an idea from Ville Valo's new single 'Summer Wine' (which rocks btw) and I've kinda started this. I hope you like...please R&R
Fic - HIM/The Used/MCR crossover
Disclaimer: Sure...I really own...
Summer Wine
"Just go to sleep." Comes the whisper, as quiet as a breeze through the autumn woods, the voice soothing to tired minds as the world begins to blur. The glass is lifted to cold lips on last time until the last of its contents disappear down already burning throats. "Go to sleep." There is a slight accent to the voice that sings along to the potion that is swirling through blood streams like beautiful poison. Eyes grow heavy and shut slowly, the last image imprinted on them being her enchanting grey eyes, shining with childish excitement. "Just sleep."
Go to sleep...
Prologue
24:00 21/05 North Carolina USA - Subject: Ville Valo
Nationality: Finnish
Occupation: Vocalist, Finnish band HIM (His Infernal Majesty)
Many people would wonder what exactly a Finnish rock star was doing on his own, in North Carolina. For their information he's just finished an interview with Blender and is walking back through the already darkened streets back to his hotel. I know all of this, it's imperative that I do; it's also important that I know if he smokes, where he goes for a drink, who he knows in Carolina and what time he normally goes to bed. It's important for me to know when he's planning on leaving and where he will go after that...oh and his current sexuality is also pretty important to me as well.
So I guess that you could say I've been stalking him - I prefer the term observing personally, stalking makes me sound like some crazed teenie fan girl. I like HIM, I listen to HIM and I even bothered to read an interview with him once in English born Kerrang! But stalk Ville Valo? Please, I may be planning to kidnap him but I'm really not that bad!
So as he smiles tiredly at the blonde receptionist who hands him his key and watches him almost curiously as he proceeds to take the seven flights of stairs up to his hotel appartment, rather than waiting for the lift, I'm watching him. He doesn't know, she doesn't know, the burly security guard at the entrance didn't feel the breeze as I slipped past and the camera's dotted about couldn't catch even the static from the air I disturb as I wade through you human's mass of pollution. A smile flits across my face as I slip through the hotel room door after him after observing him climb wearily up all ninety something stairs. He makes himself a cup of coffee and fires up a cigarette before he does anything else. Honestly I think that's all that man lives on, coffee and cigarettes, cigarettes and coffee. It makes me sick sometimes what humans do to themselves but I guess I have no right to be...not yet anyway. He disappears into the bathroom after he's finished his coffee and stubbed out the cigarette. And no, I didn't follow him in there, what kind of sick pervert do you think I am? Instead I sit on the edge of his bed, as light as air so he wouldn't even notice the crease, if I'd even left any that is...
24:00 22/05 Belleville New Jersey USA - Subject: Gerard Way
Nationality: American (Scottish/Italian Background)
Occupation: Vocalist, New Jersey based My Chemical Romance
He's singing again, not that I particularly care - my job's easier if the target's drunk. He's not that off tune so I suspect that he's only tipsy; a pity or I could just wait for him to pass out. Sitting high on a wall in the suburbs of Belleville I guess I can't help but sigh at what the guy is doing to himself. He's been drinking and like before I know this, it's not hard to find out if you know where to look. He went with the rest of his band this time, all apart from Bob Bryar who went home to Chicago a couple of days ago. His mother expects him back and it made me laugh when I found that out! A rock star that is still henpecked by his nothing short of a gothic mother.
From his lips the words to a Misfits song that I suspect is Scream echoes around the silent, darkened streets. I think I'll wait for him to get home first, it won't be hard to creep in and it will cause less parental complications - parents always make the most fuss. Sighing again I cross my legs as he takes an unbearably long time to get to the end of the road, one more corner and he'll be on his home stretch; that I can't wait for. Trailing a half drunk rock star is never really much fun and I'm beginning to wish he'd had an interview to attend to like Ville. Oh well, I guess that sometimes situations just can't be helped.
Running a hand through my short, dark hair I jump down from the wall and follow him whisper quietly around the corner and down the street to where the Way family home is. I can't help standing and staring for a minute as he fumbles drunkenly for the keys. I don't know why I've always had a weird fascination with this particular rock star. It might be the fact he's as pale as me...or his obsession with the dark and the warped. But for some reason I've always liked him. Not because he's good looking, which even I have to admit and not for his band either - I like My Chem but not that much. I shake my head with the thoughts, it's a stupid thing to ponder on and I have to remember that the more I ponder the more I'd wish someone else was doing my job. No, it's better to carry on thinking of him as some freak - he is...to me and the rest of the world anyway.
Fic - HIM/The Used/MCR crossover
Disclaimer: Sure...I really own...
Summer Wine
"Just go to sleep." Comes the whisper, as quiet as a breeze through the autumn woods, the voice soothing to tired minds as the world begins to blur. The glass is lifted to cold lips on last time until the last of its contents disappear down already burning throats. "Go to sleep." There is a slight accent to the voice that sings along to the potion that is swirling through blood streams like beautiful poison. Eyes grow heavy and shut slowly, the last image imprinted on them being her enchanting grey eyes, shining with childish excitement. "Just sleep."
Go to sleep...
Prologue
24:00 21/05 North Carolina USA - Subject: Ville Valo
Nationality: Finnish
Occupation: Vocalist, Finnish band HIM (His Infernal Majesty)
Many people would wonder what exactly a Finnish rock star was doing on his own, in North Carolina. For their information he's just finished an interview with Blender and is walking back through the already darkened streets back to his hotel. I know all of this, it's imperative that I do; it's also important that I know if he smokes, where he goes for a drink, who he knows in Carolina and what time he normally goes to bed. It's important for me to know when he's planning on leaving and where he will go after that...oh and his current sexuality is also pretty important to me as well.
So I guess that you could say I've been stalking him - I prefer the term observing personally, stalking makes me sound like some crazed teenie fan girl. I like HIM, I listen to HIM and I even bothered to read an interview with him once in English born Kerrang! But stalk Ville Valo? Please, I may be planning to kidnap him but I'm really not that bad!
So as he smiles tiredly at the blonde receptionist who hands him his key and watches him almost curiously as he proceeds to take the seven flights of stairs up to his hotel appartment, rather than waiting for the lift, I'm watching him. He doesn't know, she doesn't know, the burly security guard at the entrance didn't feel the breeze as I slipped past and the camera's dotted about couldn't catch even the static from the air I disturb as I wade through you human's mass of pollution. A smile flits across my face as I slip through the hotel room door after him after observing him climb wearily up all ninety something stairs. He makes himself a cup of coffee and fires up a cigarette before he does anything else. Honestly I think that's all that man lives on, coffee and cigarettes, cigarettes and coffee. It makes me sick sometimes what humans do to themselves but I guess I have no right to be...not yet anyway. He disappears into the bathroom after he's finished his coffee and stubbed out the cigarette. And no, I didn't follow him in there, what kind of sick pervert do you think I am? Instead I sit on the edge of his bed, as light as air so he wouldn't even notice the crease, if I'd even left any that is...
24:00 22/05 Belleville New Jersey USA - Subject: Gerard Way
Nationality: American (Scottish/Italian Background)
Occupation: Vocalist, New Jersey based My Chemical Romance
He's singing again, not that I particularly care - my job's easier if the target's drunk. He's not that off tune so I suspect that he's only tipsy; a pity or I could just wait for him to pass out. Sitting high on a wall in the suburbs of Belleville I guess I can't help but sigh at what the guy is doing to himself. He's been drinking and like before I know this, it's not hard to find out if you know where to look. He went with the rest of his band this time, all apart from Bob Bryar who went home to Chicago a couple of days ago. His mother expects him back and it made me laugh when I found that out! A rock star that is still henpecked by his nothing short of a gothic mother.
From his lips the words to a Misfits song that I suspect is Scream echoes around the silent, darkened streets. I think I'll wait for him to get home first, it won't be hard to creep in and it will cause less parental complications - parents always make the most fuss. Sighing again I cross my legs as he takes an unbearably long time to get to the end of the road, one more corner and he'll be on his home stretch; that I can't wait for. Trailing a half drunk rock star is never really much fun and I'm beginning to wish he'd had an interview to attend to like Ville. Oh well, I guess that sometimes situations just can't be helped.
Running a hand through my short, dark hair I jump down from the wall and follow him whisper quietly around the corner and down the street to where the Way family home is. I can't help standing and staring for a minute as he fumbles drunkenly for the keys. I don't know why I've always had a weird fascination with this particular rock star. It might be the fact he's as pale as me...or his obsession with the dark and the warped. But for some reason I've always liked him. Not because he's good looking, which even I have to admit and not for his band either - I like My Chem but not that much. I shake my head with the thoughts, it's a stupid thing to ponder on and I have to remember that the more I ponder the more I'd wish someone else was doing my job. No, it's better to carry on thinking of him as some freak - he is...to me and the rest of the world anyway.
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