Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Tell me I'm an Angel.....Take this to My Grave
Here's another!
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Ch. 4 is called The Flying Pick
Walking towards the stage Mikey and Ray kept trying to engage me in conversation. They failed miserably because my mind was definetly elsewhere. I knew in about a minute that I'd have to face a probably still-pissed Gerard, not to mention what Mikey had just talked to me about. When we got to the stage, Bob and Gerard were already there. Bob said hi, but I kept my head low in case Gerard was looking this way. i could practically feel his eyes boring into my back as i turned and started tuning my guitar and setting my amp levels. Gerard and Mikey stood chatting in the corner and I Could feel there eyes resting on me every two seconds. 'Great! What the fuck is Mikey saying about me to him over there,' I thought angrily to myself, as I finished preparing.
When Bob and Ray were finally finished screwing around with their equipment, Ray nodded to me and my hands automatically started strumming the intro to our newest single, "Teenagers." I was intent on looking down, pretending to be concentrating on making sure my fingers were in the correct places so I wouldn't have to look at Gerard. A few moments in and it was all I could do not to get lost in the angelic voice of his, beautifully magnified by the empty theater. Shit it was getting hard to concentrate when such sweet sounds issued from his mouth, i could almost feel his bated breath on my neck from across the stage. Then, i fucking lost it.
My pick went flying out of my hand in a graceful arc and flitted across the floor out of reach. That sure snapped my ass back to reality. I frantically searched my pockets for a spare pick only to find I didn't have one on me. I always had extra picks, always. What the fuck was I thinking. I looked to Toro to help me out, my eyes pleading to him and he knew it. During the next transition he quickly fished in his pocket and tossed a shiny blue fender pick at me. I caught it and sat trying to pick up the tune as Toro sat grinning like a fucking monkey across the stage. I thought I'd recovered quickly enough to fool everyone else besides Ray and the cackling little hyena, Mikey, but turning back to the front Gerard caught my eye. I saw the question, maybe even concern in his eye, but it only lasted a second because he turned quickly away. Having regained my composure and rhythm, I ended the song, giving a huge sigh of relief to myself. Everyone started handing their gear off the waiting roadies and I quickly turned in hopes of making a quick getaway, but Bob's booming voice called me back at the last second. Just as I thought i was home clear.
"Hey Frank! Come here man!" I walked back, head hanging low again and my hands hastily stuff deep in my pockets. Just my luck, no soon had i turned and started walking back, did the rest of the guys, Gerard included walked over and stood beside Bob.
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Ch. 4 is called The Flying Pick
Walking towards the stage Mikey and Ray kept trying to engage me in conversation. They failed miserably because my mind was definetly elsewhere. I knew in about a minute that I'd have to face a probably still-pissed Gerard, not to mention what Mikey had just talked to me about. When we got to the stage, Bob and Gerard were already there. Bob said hi, but I kept my head low in case Gerard was looking this way. i could practically feel his eyes boring into my back as i turned and started tuning my guitar and setting my amp levels. Gerard and Mikey stood chatting in the corner and I Could feel there eyes resting on me every two seconds. 'Great! What the fuck is Mikey saying about me to him over there,' I thought angrily to myself, as I finished preparing.
When Bob and Ray were finally finished screwing around with their equipment, Ray nodded to me and my hands automatically started strumming the intro to our newest single, "Teenagers." I was intent on looking down, pretending to be concentrating on making sure my fingers were in the correct places so I wouldn't have to look at Gerard. A few moments in and it was all I could do not to get lost in the angelic voice of his, beautifully magnified by the empty theater. Shit it was getting hard to concentrate when such sweet sounds issued from his mouth, i could almost feel his bated breath on my neck from across the stage. Then, i fucking lost it.
My pick went flying out of my hand in a graceful arc and flitted across the floor out of reach. That sure snapped my ass back to reality. I frantically searched my pockets for a spare pick only to find I didn't have one on me. I always had extra picks, always. What the fuck was I thinking. I looked to Toro to help me out, my eyes pleading to him and he knew it. During the next transition he quickly fished in his pocket and tossed a shiny blue fender pick at me. I caught it and sat trying to pick up the tune as Toro sat grinning like a fucking monkey across the stage. I thought I'd recovered quickly enough to fool everyone else besides Ray and the cackling little hyena, Mikey, but turning back to the front Gerard caught my eye. I saw the question, maybe even concern in his eye, but it only lasted a second because he turned quickly away. Having regained my composure and rhythm, I ended the song, giving a huge sigh of relief to myself. Everyone started handing their gear off the waiting roadies and I quickly turned in hopes of making a quick getaway, but Bob's booming voice called me back at the last second. Just as I thought i was home clear.
"Hey Frank! Come here man!" I walked back, head hanging low again and my hands hastily stuff deep in my pockets. Just my luck, no soon had i turned and started walking back, did the rest of the guys, Gerard included walked over and stood beside Bob.
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