Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > A Love Once Forgotten
Fear.
A word we commonly use, a word we commonly feel, yet some claim death doesn't scare them, though other things scare them. And no, I don't mean if you fear screwing up your college application, or your Grandma's eye surgery. I'm talking you fearing things. If you don't fear death, you must fear pain. If you don't fear pain, you have to fear death. If you don't fear death or pain, you cannot fear anything. Therefore, what's up with being scared of clowns(or anything, for that matter)?
It's a clown. Simple, pale, smiling wickedly as the moonlight puts it on spotlight. You quiver in your bed as the thing's eyes slowly shudder to attempt to focus on you, and it then laughs.
What's to fear? If you don't fear death, how can you fear anything but pain? What's the clown going to do to you? If you say you don't fear death or pain, you can't fear the clown, because you don't care if it rakes it's wooden claws against your skin or if is eagerly decapitates your shivering form. If a clown stares at you, you have nothing to fear but death or pain. Honestly, could this be any simpler?
Don't deny your fear of death or pain after you say you're afraid of clowns, getting a papercut on your eye, or needles. We all feel fear sometimes in our lives.
- - -- - - - - -
Hiya guys. I am now... eh... twelve years old. It's approximately 3:32 in the morning, and hey, I'm mourning. Guess what I asked for my birthday? A bass guitar. Guess what I got? Um. Yeah. Not a bass guitar. Anyway, enjoy!
- - - - -
"Dee? Hellloey, Daniella? Dani. Dan. The. Man." Weakly I opened my eyes. Gee was nudging me, and I flickered my gaze over to him.
"Yeah huh?" I said/asked, realizing I must've been dreaming again. Cool, it's kinda like a story.
"We need to show you... The apartment." I paused, then slid out of the car. The guys were gone, so it was quiet for a moment. As the sun set over in the distance, I felt quite twilight zone-y. My jeans slid to tuck around my legs, hoodie rested lightly on my shoulders. The light from the sun bounced off Gerard's sharp features in just a way that made him look glowing, or angelic, and I paused, the air caught in my throat. My golden eyes were caught on his, the sparkly hazel engulfing me into this sort of state that's too beautiful for words. Shuffling the black t-shirt rested on his shoulders, the boy placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Dan, are you okay?" A gave a stiff nod at the soothing words oozing out of his mouth, his lips coming to form the words and his face breaking into a small smile. My Vans, placed gently on the pavement, made no sound as I took a light step towards Gerard.
If this were a movie, let's just say it'd be in slow motion and little tiny hearts would be floating around Gee's head. Just so you know.
"Gerard-" I began, just as he shut the door to the little car.
"Yep?" He said quietly, pausing to hear what I had to say. His bony, vanilla-milkshake-colored hand graced the roof of the car.
"I wanted to say..." To be honest, I didn't know what I wanted to say. 'Give me a kiss,' would suffice. Or, if you wanted to go the extra, say, mile, 'Let's have sex' could work. But not yet, 'cause it feels like we just met, well, today.
I didn't realize it, but my gaze fell from Gerard's and I was now staring at his ankles. Lightly, I felt a warm hand placed on mine. Hiding the surprised expression I normally would have shook out, I raised my eyes to his. Gee was closer to me, so close I could feel his breath tickle down my nose to meld with mine. Sliding our hands from the roof of the car, they fell at our sides noiselessly. He tilted my chin up with a light finger, leaned forward, and our lips met.
So, y'know, in my "real world" which I'm not actually sure is the real "real world," I'm, eh, twelve. Shoot me now. No, but seriously, making out... When you're approximately twenty four years old but really twelve years old? If that made any sense, tell me later. But it's just a little awkward, considering I just had my first kiss like, a month ago.
Since I'm really good at opening up, especially in my "dreams" where it doesn't matter because it's a "dream," I decided to tell Gerard about my little sixth grade life.
Y'know, after he gets off of the hood of the car with me and lets me get up. Which, could take a while, and hell, I don't mind. It could take a month or two... Or a couple years. Sadly, it took only a few minutes, and I felt like I should pounce on him again or something, but as he flicked his black hair away I decided that'd be a little too... Weird.
"There's another reason I should add to the list of why I must've loved you." I muttered, straightening.
"After that, you should add this to the list of why you love me now."
And we were at it again. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Except, maybe, that I JUST MET HIM. Awkward? Yes.
When you're a celebrity, flashes ruin everything. It flickered nearby, and Gee and I pulled away from each other. He muttered curses, and footsteps could be heard as whoever it was fled the scene. Fuckin' coward paparazzi shit.
"Bitch." Gee hissed through his teeth, tucking his hair behind his ear.
"It's okay. We can see the apartment now, I guess." He nodded, and I formed an outline of him in the darkness. Sunsets don't last that long, anyway.
My hand in his still, he led me towards the building.
"So your name is Daniella Iverson. The guys and me called you Dee once we got engaged... I dunno, we just felt like it. So you got it?" I gave a slow nod. Well, I was quite the interesting person, wasn't it?
"Okay. I'm Italian and Irish, was born in NYC, and my middle name is Claire?"
"You missed your career and your favorite color." Wrinkling my nose, I responded,
"I worked for Rolling Stone, interviewing people where I met you. My favorite color is green. Which, y'know, it actually is. Therefore, I can remember it and don't have to pretend or nothing."
"Uh-huh. How old are you?"
"Twenty...four?" He nodded and smiled, so I smiled also. The apartment was a tiny, off-white little living place. When you first walked in, you entered the living room type thing. It had a couch, and TV. Pretty simple. Straight ahead was the threshold into the kitchen. To the left of the living room when you first walk in is the door to the bedroom, that has a little bathroom connected to it.
I loved it. "So Gee, how long 'till the tour?" He paused. The white light next to the couch we sat one shone down on his face, illuminated his pale face that was neatly outlined with his black hair. A bit of color came to his cheeks, but it faded quickly.
"Tomorrow. Hope you're ready."
I, like, love Gerard. He can be so cool, and smooth. Other times, he stutters, blushes, and looks down. It's absolutely, beautifully, cute. And, for the first time, I was going to look in the mirror, and he was all happy and peppy(which meant he must think I'm absolutely beautiful or something). Since it was a dream, I figured I'd look absolutely gorgeous or something. But wait, when I looked into that little vision thing in my dream before, I was myself. When I saw myself sitting on the gurney or whatever, I looked like myself... Oh well. Too bad it was a dream.
"And... Mirror!" Gerard said, making me open my eyes to the full-body mirror over the closet door in the bedroom.
"Holy. Shit."
I was pretty. I mean, that sounds kinda vain, but whatever. It was just a DREAM. I had light brown curly kinda hair, golden eyes, and like four freckles on my cheeks. The best part? I was skinny. I mean like, model skinny. Jesus Christ. I mean, really? One time, in a dream, I was George W. Bush. This is a step up.
I was planning on going to sleep, but I just couldn't for some reason. Paranoia crept up on me, and the taunting moonlight looked like a creeping serial killer for some odd reason. Gerard was asleep, engulfed in the covers. I was sitting up, glaring at every shadow, every movement my eye claimed was there yet wasn't. My eyes were playing tricks on me. In my DREAM. Actually... Was this a dream? Was this actually my real life? Flickering my golden eyes to where the wind blew in through the cracked open window. Everything would be fine... I wasn't scared of anything.
Except, maybe, not knowing what was reality.
"Y'ready, Dee?" Ray asked, throwing his bag on his bunk. I gave the bus another look.
"Uh, yeah. I'm kinda tired though." I responded, chewing on my nail as I saw on my bunk.
"What, did Gee keep you up all night?" I kicked him playfully in the shin, and he chuckled as he walked towards the couch. The bus was freaking cool. It's like a moving house, which, I guess, was what it was supposed to be. The little Tv didn't get any channels, so they just played Playstation on it. As I fell into those thoughts, I leaned on the bunk and blew out a puff of air. Okay. Maybe, if I actually get some sleep (unlike last night) I'll go back to my other world. Evening my breathing, I placed my head on the pillow and closed my eyes.
"Just sleep." I muttered, basically dropping unconscious on the bunk. I'd tell Gerard about the "real" me afterwards.
- - - - -
Hope you liked. R&R? Please?
A word we commonly use, a word we commonly feel, yet some claim death doesn't scare them, though other things scare them. And no, I don't mean if you fear screwing up your college application, or your Grandma's eye surgery. I'm talking you fearing things. If you don't fear death, you must fear pain. If you don't fear pain, you have to fear death. If you don't fear death or pain, you cannot fear anything. Therefore, what's up with being scared of clowns(or anything, for that matter)?
It's a clown. Simple, pale, smiling wickedly as the moonlight puts it on spotlight. You quiver in your bed as the thing's eyes slowly shudder to attempt to focus on you, and it then laughs.
What's to fear? If you don't fear death, how can you fear anything but pain? What's the clown going to do to you? If you say you don't fear death or pain, you can't fear the clown, because you don't care if it rakes it's wooden claws against your skin or if is eagerly decapitates your shivering form. If a clown stares at you, you have nothing to fear but death or pain. Honestly, could this be any simpler?
Don't deny your fear of death or pain after you say you're afraid of clowns, getting a papercut on your eye, or needles. We all feel fear sometimes in our lives.
- - -- - - - - -
Hiya guys. I am now... eh... twelve years old. It's approximately 3:32 in the morning, and hey, I'm mourning. Guess what I asked for my birthday? A bass guitar. Guess what I got? Um. Yeah. Not a bass guitar. Anyway, enjoy!
- - - - -
"Dee? Hellloey, Daniella? Dani. Dan. The. Man." Weakly I opened my eyes. Gee was nudging me, and I flickered my gaze over to him.
"Yeah huh?" I said/asked, realizing I must've been dreaming again. Cool, it's kinda like a story.
"We need to show you... The apartment." I paused, then slid out of the car. The guys were gone, so it was quiet for a moment. As the sun set over in the distance, I felt quite twilight zone-y. My jeans slid to tuck around my legs, hoodie rested lightly on my shoulders. The light from the sun bounced off Gerard's sharp features in just a way that made him look glowing, or angelic, and I paused, the air caught in my throat. My golden eyes were caught on his, the sparkly hazel engulfing me into this sort of state that's too beautiful for words. Shuffling the black t-shirt rested on his shoulders, the boy placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Dan, are you okay?" A gave a stiff nod at the soothing words oozing out of his mouth, his lips coming to form the words and his face breaking into a small smile. My Vans, placed gently on the pavement, made no sound as I took a light step towards Gerard.
If this were a movie, let's just say it'd be in slow motion and little tiny hearts would be floating around Gee's head. Just so you know.
"Gerard-" I began, just as he shut the door to the little car.
"Yep?" He said quietly, pausing to hear what I had to say. His bony, vanilla-milkshake-colored hand graced the roof of the car.
"I wanted to say..." To be honest, I didn't know what I wanted to say. 'Give me a kiss,' would suffice. Or, if you wanted to go the extra, say, mile, 'Let's have sex' could work. But not yet, 'cause it feels like we just met, well, today.
I didn't realize it, but my gaze fell from Gerard's and I was now staring at his ankles. Lightly, I felt a warm hand placed on mine. Hiding the surprised expression I normally would have shook out, I raised my eyes to his. Gee was closer to me, so close I could feel his breath tickle down my nose to meld with mine. Sliding our hands from the roof of the car, they fell at our sides noiselessly. He tilted my chin up with a light finger, leaned forward, and our lips met.
So, y'know, in my "real world" which I'm not actually sure is the real "real world," I'm, eh, twelve. Shoot me now. No, but seriously, making out... When you're approximately twenty four years old but really twelve years old? If that made any sense, tell me later. But it's just a little awkward, considering I just had my first kiss like, a month ago.
Since I'm really good at opening up, especially in my "dreams" where it doesn't matter because it's a "dream," I decided to tell Gerard about my little sixth grade life.
Y'know, after he gets off of the hood of the car with me and lets me get up. Which, could take a while, and hell, I don't mind. It could take a month or two... Or a couple years. Sadly, it took only a few minutes, and I felt like I should pounce on him again or something, but as he flicked his black hair away I decided that'd be a little too... Weird.
"There's another reason I should add to the list of why I must've loved you." I muttered, straightening.
"After that, you should add this to the list of why you love me now."
And we were at it again. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Except, maybe, that I JUST MET HIM. Awkward? Yes.
When you're a celebrity, flashes ruin everything. It flickered nearby, and Gee and I pulled away from each other. He muttered curses, and footsteps could be heard as whoever it was fled the scene. Fuckin' coward paparazzi shit.
"Bitch." Gee hissed through his teeth, tucking his hair behind his ear.
"It's okay. We can see the apartment now, I guess." He nodded, and I formed an outline of him in the darkness. Sunsets don't last that long, anyway.
My hand in his still, he led me towards the building.
"So your name is Daniella Iverson. The guys and me called you Dee once we got engaged... I dunno, we just felt like it. So you got it?" I gave a slow nod. Well, I was quite the interesting person, wasn't it?
"Okay. I'm Italian and Irish, was born in NYC, and my middle name is Claire?"
"You missed your career and your favorite color." Wrinkling my nose, I responded,
"I worked for Rolling Stone, interviewing people where I met you. My favorite color is green. Which, y'know, it actually is. Therefore, I can remember it and don't have to pretend or nothing."
"Uh-huh. How old are you?"
"Twenty...four?" He nodded and smiled, so I smiled also. The apartment was a tiny, off-white little living place. When you first walked in, you entered the living room type thing. It had a couch, and TV. Pretty simple. Straight ahead was the threshold into the kitchen. To the left of the living room when you first walk in is the door to the bedroom, that has a little bathroom connected to it.
I loved it. "So Gee, how long 'till the tour?" He paused. The white light next to the couch we sat one shone down on his face, illuminated his pale face that was neatly outlined with his black hair. A bit of color came to his cheeks, but it faded quickly.
"Tomorrow. Hope you're ready."
I, like, love Gerard. He can be so cool, and smooth. Other times, he stutters, blushes, and looks down. It's absolutely, beautifully, cute. And, for the first time, I was going to look in the mirror, and he was all happy and peppy(which meant he must think I'm absolutely beautiful or something). Since it was a dream, I figured I'd look absolutely gorgeous or something. But wait, when I looked into that little vision thing in my dream before, I was myself. When I saw myself sitting on the gurney or whatever, I looked like myself... Oh well. Too bad it was a dream.
"And... Mirror!" Gerard said, making me open my eyes to the full-body mirror over the closet door in the bedroom.
"Holy. Shit."
I was pretty. I mean, that sounds kinda vain, but whatever. It was just a DREAM. I had light brown curly kinda hair, golden eyes, and like four freckles on my cheeks. The best part? I was skinny. I mean like, model skinny. Jesus Christ. I mean, really? One time, in a dream, I was George W. Bush. This is a step up.
I was planning on going to sleep, but I just couldn't for some reason. Paranoia crept up on me, and the taunting moonlight looked like a creeping serial killer for some odd reason. Gerard was asleep, engulfed in the covers. I was sitting up, glaring at every shadow, every movement my eye claimed was there yet wasn't. My eyes were playing tricks on me. In my DREAM. Actually... Was this a dream? Was this actually my real life? Flickering my golden eyes to where the wind blew in through the cracked open window. Everything would be fine... I wasn't scared of anything.
Except, maybe, not knowing what was reality.
"Y'ready, Dee?" Ray asked, throwing his bag on his bunk. I gave the bus another look.
"Uh, yeah. I'm kinda tired though." I responded, chewing on my nail as I saw on my bunk.
"What, did Gee keep you up all night?" I kicked him playfully in the shin, and he chuckled as he walked towards the couch. The bus was freaking cool. It's like a moving house, which, I guess, was what it was supposed to be. The little Tv didn't get any channels, so they just played Playstation on it. As I fell into those thoughts, I leaned on the bunk and blew out a puff of air. Okay. Maybe, if I actually get some sleep (unlike last night) I'll go back to my other world. Evening my breathing, I placed my head on the pillow and closed my eyes.
"Just sleep." I muttered, basically dropping unconscious on the bunk. I'd tell Gerard about the "real" me afterwards.
- - - - -
Hope you liked. R&R? Please?
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