Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You
Gerard could feel the panic rising inside him.
"Uh, guys? We've got a problem!" Gerard yelled. The hushed conversation that had been going on in the next room stopped abruptly. The three men hurried to the kitchen.
"What's up?" Ray asked.
Gerard didn't need to provide an answer. Instead he brandished the cut off telephone wire in the air for everyone to see. Frank, who had been fidgetting nervously, muttered something that sounded a lot like "screwed." Bob shot him a glare.
"There's probably a reasonable explanation..." He started slowly, choosing his words carefully, but Ray interrupted.
"Bob, we all know you're being optimistic, and trying to look on the bright side. But the thing is, there is NO bright side to this situation!"
"Sorry." Bob said, staring at the ground and avoiding people's gaze,"I was only trying to help, but you're right."
"I know you were, but in this situation we need to be aware of what's going on, we can't lead ourselves into a false sense of security."
"Ray's right." Everyone looked at Gerard. He continued, "Mikey's dead. And he didn't die naturally. Someone hurt him and made him suffer a painful, agonizing, and cruel death. No one should die that way. Bob probably wouldn't be alive right now either, if he hadn't acted on impulse. No offense, Bob. And lastly, someone's cut this phone line. Someone's been in this house. When we were out looking for Mikey, he came in and cut it."
"We should baricade the doors, or something." Frank finally looked up. "To keep him out."
"But what about Mikey?"
"Gerard, I know it hurts. But we can't leave the house again. We really can't. We'd be looking for more trouble."
"But, his body-"
"What would we do with it? That is, IF we could find it again. I want him to have a proper burial as much as you do. But's it's just too dangerous. I'm sorry." Frank finished, looking at Gerard uncertainly. He shifted a little on his spot on the floor and pulled on a loose string on the seam of his bloodstained Misfits hoodie. He nodded his head slightly, admitting defeat. But it was the defeated, broken look in his eyes that worried Frank.
An hour or so later, they sat slumped in the middle of the floor, looking around blankly. Every door and window in the house had been locked shut, and they had piled pieces of furniture, appliances, and anything else they could find in front of each one. Gerard had done his share of the work without saying a word. Suddenly he got up and headed towards the stairs.
"I'll be upstairs."
He headed for the room he and Frank were sharing, but turned around halfway up the hall and went the other way.
Gerard's POV
I lingered a little but outside Mikey's door. I didn't know if I should go in or not. I let out a sigh and pushed the door open. I locked it behind me, and then I took a look around. His bed was still unmade, and his clothes from yesterday were thrown on top of his open bag. I threw myself onto the bed. If I hadn't been so selfish and stupid, and told him to go away, then maybe he would still be alive. And if I had bothered to try hard enough to convince him this was a bad idea, he definitely wouldn't be dead, and we wouldn't be in this mess. Right then, it hit me that I would never see him again. Ever. It finally sunk in that he was gone, that we would never see each other again. We'd never talk again. He was my best friend, my confidant. I could tell him anything, because I knew he'd sympathise, and make me feel better. He'd never laugh. And now that relationship was gone. More tears formed in my eyes. I laid my head in Mikey's pillow, but sat up again immediately. Frowning, I reached under it and pulled out a tattered leather notebook. I wasn't sure if I should open it, or not. It could be his personal journal or something. Then again, we knew everything about eachother anyways. Whatever. So I opened it, and flipped through it. The first pages were diary entries. He had the dates written in. God, some of these were dated back years ago. I skimmed through one that was written in the year 2000. Four years ago. Then I continued turning pages. There were some lyrics written in between and around the diary entries. I continued turning pages and scanning the words Mikey had written. I stopped at the last page he had filled out. There were paragraphs scrawled across the page, some lines were scribbled out. Then, underneath the mess of handwriting, was the finished copy:
He calls the mansion not a house but a tomb.
He's always choking from the stench and the fume.
The wedding party all collapsed in the room.
So send my resignation to the bride and the groom.
Let's go down!
This elevator only goes up to ten.
He's not around.
He's always looking at men
Down by the pool.
He doesn't have many friends.
As they are
Face down and bloated snap a shot with the lens.
If you marry me,
Would you bury me?
Would you carry me to the end?
So say goodbye to the vows you take
And say goodbye to the life you make
And say goodbye to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
She keeps a picture of the body she lends.
Got nasty blisters from the money she spends.
She's got a life of her own and it shows by the Benz
She drives at 90 by the Barbies and Kens.
If you ever say never too late.
I'll forget all the diamonds you ate.
Lost in coma and covered in cake.
Increase the medication.
Share the vows at the wake.
Kiss the bride
If you marry me,
Would you bury me?
Would you carry me to the end?
So say goodbye to the vows you take
And say goodbye to the life you make
And say goodbye to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
And say goodbye to the last parade
And walk away from the choice you made
And say goodnight to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
So say goodbye to the vows you take
And say goodbye to the life you make
And say goodbye to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
And say goodbye to the last parade
And walk away from the choice you made
And say goodbye to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
To the last parade
When the parties fade
And the choice you made
To the end.
As I finished reading Mikey's song, I realized there were now tears on my face. I whipped them away with my sleeve and stood up, unlocking the door. I tiptoed to my room, not wanting to be heard. I didn't want to have to face anyone at that moment. I hoped Frank was still downstairs. I peeked into the open door, and turns out, luck was on my side. I leaned over my suitcase, and buried the notebook at the bottom of all my stuff. Then I grabbed a towel and heaed for the bathroom. I locked the door behind me, stripped off my clothes, and turned on the shower.
Author's Note- Thanks to those of you who reviewed. I'm sorry for not updating sooner, but it was my birthday on the first of this month, and I've been spending time with a friend from out of town that I haven't seen in FOREVER. I'll only be able to update on weekends now, because school starts tomorrow, Dammit. So um, yeah. REVIEW. R-E-V-I-E-W. kthx. I like reviews, they make me happy, And if I don't get reviews, I'm not gonna keep writing this story. laughs evilly
"Uh, guys? We've got a problem!" Gerard yelled. The hushed conversation that had been going on in the next room stopped abruptly. The three men hurried to the kitchen.
"What's up?" Ray asked.
Gerard didn't need to provide an answer. Instead he brandished the cut off telephone wire in the air for everyone to see. Frank, who had been fidgetting nervously, muttered something that sounded a lot like "screwed." Bob shot him a glare.
"There's probably a reasonable explanation..." He started slowly, choosing his words carefully, but Ray interrupted.
"Bob, we all know you're being optimistic, and trying to look on the bright side. But the thing is, there is NO bright side to this situation!"
"Sorry." Bob said, staring at the ground and avoiding people's gaze,"I was only trying to help, but you're right."
"I know you were, but in this situation we need to be aware of what's going on, we can't lead ourselves into a false sense of security."
"Ray's right." Everyone looked at Gerard. He continued, "Mikey's dead. And he didn't die naturally. Someone hurt him and made him suffer a painful, agonizing, and cruel death. No one should die that way. Bob probably wouldn't be alive right now either, if he hadn't acted on impulse. No offense, Bob. And lastly, someone's cut this phone line. Someone's been in this house. When we were out looking for Mikey, he came in and cut it."
"We should baricade the doors, or something." Frank finally looked up. "To keep him out."
"But what about Mikey?"
"Gerard, I know it hurts. But we can't leave the house again. We really can't. We'd be looking for more trouble."
"But, his body-"
"What would we do with it? That is, IF we could find it again. I want him to have a proper burial as much as you do. But's it's just too dangerous. I'm sorry." Frank finished, looking at Gerard uncertainly. He shifted a little on his spot on the floor and pulled on a loose string on the seam of his bloodstained Misfits hoodie. He nodded his head slightly, admitting defeat. But it was the defeated, broken look in his eyes that worried Frank.
An hour or so later, they sat slumped in the middle of the floor, looking around blankly. Every door and window in the house had been locked shut, and they had piled pieces of furniture, appliances, and anything else they could find in front of each one. Gerard had done his share of the work without saying a word. Suddenly he got up and headed towards the stairs.
"I'll be upstairs."
He headed for the room he and Frank were sharing, but turned around halfway up the hall and went the other way.
Gerard's POV
I lingered a little but outside Mikey's door. I didn't know if I should go in or not. I let out a sigh and pushed the door open. I locked it behind me, and then I took a look around. His bed was still unmade, and his clothes from yesterday were thrown on top of his open bag. I threw myself onto the bed. If I hadn't been so selfish and stupid, and told him to go away, then maybe he would still be alive. And if I had bothered to try hard enough to convince him this was a bad idea, he definitely wouldn't be dead, and we wouldn't be in this mess. Right then, it hit me that I would never see him again. Ever. It finally sunk in that he was gone, that we would never see each other again. We'd never talk again. He was my best friend, my confidant. I could tell him anything, because I knew he'd sympathise, and make me feel better. He'd never laugh. And now that relationship was gone. More tears formed in my eyes. I laid my head in Mikey's pillow, but sat up again immediately. Frowning, I reached under it and pulled out a tattered leather notebook. I wasn't sure if I should open it, or not. It could be his personal journal or something. Then again, we knew everything about eachother anyways. Whatever. So I opened it, and flipped through it. The first pages were diary entries. He had the dates written in. God, some of these were dated back years ago. I skimmed through one that was written in the year 2000. Four years ago. Then I continued turning pages. There were some lyrics written in between and around the diary entries. I continued turning pages and scanning the words Mikey had written. I stopped at the last page he had filled out. There were paragraphs scrawled across the page, some lines were scribbled out. Then, underneath the mess of handwriting, was the finished copy:
He calls the mansion not a house but a tomb.
He's always choking from the stench and the fume.
The wedding party all collapsed in the room.
So send my resignation to the bride and the groom.
Let's go down!
This elevator only goes up to ten.
He's not around.
He's always looking at men
Down by the pool.
He doesn't have many friends.
As they are
Face down and bloated snap a shot with the lens.
If you marry me,
Would you bury me?
Would you carry me to the end?
So say goodbye to the vows you take
And say goodbye to the life you make
And say goodbye to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
She keeps a picture of the body she lends.
Got nasty blisters from the money she spends.
She's got a life of her own and it shows by the Benz
She drives at 90 by the Barbies and Kens.
If you ever say never too late.
I'll forget all the diamonds you ate.
Lost in coma and covered in cake.
Increase the medication.
Share the vows at the wake.
Kiss the bride
If you marry me,
Would you bury me?
Would you carry me to the end?
So say goodbye to the vows you take
And say goodbye to the life you make
And say goodbye to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
And say goodbye to the last parade
And walk away from the choice you made
And say goodnight to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
So say goodbye to the vows you take
And say goodbye to the life you make
And say goodbye to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
And say goodbye to the last parade
And walk away from the choice you made
And say goodbye to the heart you break
And all the cyanide you drank.
To the last parade
When the parties fade
And the choice you made
To the end.
As I finished reading Mikey's song, I realized there were now tears on my face. I whipped them away with my sleeve and stood up, unlocking the door. I tiptoed to my room, not wanting to be heard. I didn't want to have to face anyone at that moment. I hoped Frank was still downstairs. I peeked into the open door, and turns out, luck was on my side. I leaned over my suitcase, and buried the notebook at the bottom of all my stuff. Then I grabbed a towel and heaed for the bathroom. I locked the door behind me, stripped off my clothes, and turned on the shower.
Author's Note- Thanks to those of you who reviewed. I'm sorry for not updating sooner, but it was my birthday on the first of this month, and I've been spending time with a friend from out of town that I haven't seen in FOREVER. I'll only be able to update on weekends now, because school starts tomorrow, Dammit. So um, yeah. REVIEW. R-E-V-I-E-W. kthx. I like reviews, they make me happy, And if I don't get reviews, I'm not gonna keep writing this story. laughs evilly
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