Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Tell me I'm an Angel.....Take this to My Grave
Ch. 12 "Did I Go Too Far?"
I watched him walk away, confused. It was like I wasn't even there. I looked to Mikey, but he just shrugged, obviously just as confused as I was. 'Was he mad at me? Did I piss him off somehow,' I thought to myself. I sat there, silent, brooding , when Mikey grabbed my hand and squeezed it, reassuringly.
I looked up at him and Ray, and they both beckoned me to come with them. I really didn't have the heart to go back to the tour bus and face Gerard yet, but at the same time I couldn't just say here, moping as the roadies took care of the equipment. So I stood, barley interested in independent movement, and walked out back, following Ray and Mikey. I leaned against the wall and lit up a cigarette. Mikey did the same, but Ray declined when I offered him one. I had forgotten that Ray was the good boy, the only one of us that didn't smoke.
Finally, overcome with feeling, I bowed my head and willed my voice to speak. "Was it me? Did I go too far," I pleaded, looking towards Mikey, searching for an answer. I tried to speak again, but my voice failed me. I slid down the wall and slumped to the ground and just sat there, dazed and confused. Mikey and Ray both came over and rubbed my back, whispering reassuring words in my ear, but they didn't make me feel any better. I knew they didn't know what to say and I didn't blame them. After about ten minutes, Mikey finally spoke up.
"Let's get you back to the bus. He's probably sleeping so you can just go right to your bunk and sleep, ok?" I was too mentally drained to disagree so I grabbed Ray's arm and he hoisted me up.
Together, we walked back to the bus and thankfully Gerard was in his bunk, curtains drawn so I couldn't see him. His bunk was directly across from mine so I tiptoes to my bunk to be sure I didn't prompt him to open his curtains, even if he was still awake. I couldn't tell these days. Sometimes he just sits quietly and listens. I didn't even bother changing my clothes, which were grimy from the show. I just stripped off my shirt, tie, shoes, and socks. Jean-clad, I climbed into my bunk and drew my own curtains. I didn't want to think about anything anymore so I just closed my eyes and listened to Bob's rhythmic breathing from down the hall. In minutes i was out, burrowed under my sheets, not thinking, not feeling.
I watched him walk away, confused. It was like I wasn't even there. I looked to Mikey, but he just shrugged, obviously just as confused as I was. 'Was he mad at me? Did I piss him off somehow,' I thought to myself. I sat there, silent, brooding , when Mikey grabbed my hand and squeezed it, reassuringly.
I looked up at him and Ray, and they both beckoned me to come with them. I really didn't have the heart to go back to the tour bus and face Gerard yet, but at the same time I couldn't just say here, moping as the roadies took care of the equipment. So I stood, barley interested in independent movement, and walked out back, following Ray and Mikey. I leaned against the wall and lit up a cigarette. Mikey did the same, but Ray declined when I offered him one. I had forgotten that Ray was the good boy, the only one of us that didn't smoke.
Finally, overcome with feeling, I bowed my head and willed my voice to speak. "Was it me? Did I go too far," I pleaded, looking towards Mikey, searching for an answer. I tried to speak again, but my voice failed me. I slid down the wall and slumped to the ground and just sat there, dazed and confused. Mikey and Ray both came over and rubbed my back, whispering reassuring words in my ear, but they didn't make me feel any better. I knew they didn't know what to say and I didn't blame them. After about ten minutes, Mikey finally spoke up.
"Let's get you back to the bus. He's probably sleeping so you can just go right to your bunk and sleep, ok?" I was too mentally drained to disagree so I grabbed Ray's arm and he hoisted me up.
Together, we walked back to the bus and thankfully Gerard was in his bunk, curtains drawn so I couldn't see him. His bunk was directly across from mine so I tiptoes to my bunk to be sure I didn't prompt him to open his curtains, even if he was still awake. I couldn't tell these days. Sometimes he just sits quietly and listens. I didn't even bother changing my clothes, which were grimy from the show. I just stripped off my shirt, tie, shoes, and socks. Jean-clad, I climbed into my bunk and drew my own curtains. I didn't want to think about anything anymore so I just closed my eyes and listened to Bob's rhythmic breathing from down the hall. In minutes i was out, burrowed under my sheets, not thinking, not feeling.
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