Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > the fact of the matter it that is just a matter of time
What's wrong with my name.
6 reviewsI just noticed Bert's eyebrows are lighter than his actual hair.
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Chapter 41
I don’t know how many people have had to be in the same house with their ex’s, and their ex’s family and a colossal guilt feeling trying to rip their chest apart. If any of you had then multiply that times the biggest number you can assimilate. That’s how awkward I felt. I mean, living with this people was nothing difficult for me, it was Gerard that was disturbing. In so many fucking levels. He had his tantrums from time to time, civil lapses, then again being grumpy, then way too cheerful, and so on. His emotions changed every week, then hours, other times days…you never knew when he was going to change, but when he did you had to prepare for it. I was thinking that there must be something wrong with him as I sat on the Way’s front lawn, legs crossed Indian-style, the sun bathing me. I heard someone sit by my side, totally messing with my train of thought. I turned around and saw Mikey plopped down beside be, his body laying on the evenly cut grass, looking at me through his glasses.
“What’s up…dude?”
“Hullo Mikes” I replied and laid down my back on the grass, my hair falling as a cascade on the grass.
“Wow, you certainly are a model” He said, impressed, as he balanced his weight on his elbow and cradled his chin in his hand to look at me closely. I giggled, “Why do you say so?”
“You do modely poses naturally” He explained and stared at me. I blushed and searched my brain to ask him something that would get us talking about him rather than me.
“Are you still hanging with Alicia?” I asked.
“Oh yeahh! She’s actually a model, too.”
“She is? It’s so funny we haven’t bumped into each other” I replied trying to think if I’d ever heard the name ‘Alicia’ before in the industry and might’ve somehow let it slip. Hmm…Alicia? No, that’s Alicia Nollan…and that other one’s Alica Spleen….Wait! and that other girl? No, no, no! That’s Alicia /Merrlain/. Shit.
“Are you even listening?” Mikey asked a bit louder, raising his eyebrows at me.
“Sorry…I was thinking if I had heard of Alicia and let it pass. What were you saying?” He sighed and laughed at me, just like the old times, before continuing,
“Well, it’s not like the only thing she does is modelling, she…”
“Gabe, you have a call!” Donna called from the window. I shot Mikey an apologetic glance and then hurried to take the phone.
“Hello?” I asked, extending the ‘e’ to sound a upbeat.
“Why in the lord’s name don’t you answer your phone? That’s what a mobile phone’s about! So that everyone can reach you /always/!” Jess’ voice kept getting louder and louder.
“I’m on vacation Jess, I don’t want to be nowhere near the motherfucking cell phone. Now, what’s so important to look for the Way’s number? Stalker much?”
“More like the person that organizes your life for you” She spat.
“Don’t even get me started Jessica! Now, talk or I’ll hang up” I threatened, I knew the edge on my voice let her know I wasn’t kidding.
“Look, Difuse just called, they want you for some shots for some band. They’re pay is good. It’s just a couple of days after you come back. Yes, I suppose?”
“Uh-huh. Is this the reason you’re calling?”
“Yeah that and to be able to say this: I JUST CALLED GERARD WAY’S HOUSEEE!!!”
“For God’s sake!” I yelled at her and hung up, cursing at myself for giving her an emergency number.
“What happened? The lady seemed to be hyperventilating…” Donna asked me, concern on her voice.
“Jess was just being…well, /Jess/” I said with a wry smile as I walked back to the lawn.
“Hey, Mikes I was meaning to ask you something…” I started, finally remembering a resolution I had made just before Mikey interrupted my thoughts.
“Shoot”
“Is…Are Gerard’s mood swings…./normal/?” I accentuated the last word, trying to hint something without really saying it.
“Yeah, he’s been on drugs lately…” Mikey tried to sound casual but he failed: his voice had broken a little.
“Oh…” I looked at my feet, not knowing what to say. “These past weeks or…” I started to ask but Mikey stopped me.
“I don’t think this has anything to do with you. Directly, I mean. He’s been on it ever since we started getting to shows. A lot of guys in the tour do…”
I felt a bit disappointed it didn’t have to be with me. You know, getting a guy to consume drugs because of you shouldn’t really be something to feel proud about, but at least it made you think you meant something for him. Let me give you a piece of my mind. The way I see it, Gerard breaking up with me has only made him a better person. It has only getting him higher. I mean, he’s on his second album with his band. They already have two videos, they’re signed to an okay label, they’re appearing on magazines and starting to get calls instead of making them themselves. They even have a manager!
What does that mean?
That I had been pushing him down?
That I was the reason he was such a failure?
Probably.
So there you have it.
I’m a jealous fuck, I admit it. And it breaks me apart that Gerard’s a better person now that I’m gone. It’s not like I admire him for being ‘famous’. That’s not it…I don’t care about that. If I did I’d have accepted the Playboy shots. But I didn’t. I’m jealous of how he obtained one of his dreams. I, instead, had to settle with a new one. It’s not like I hated modelling, but it wasn’t my childhood dream. It was just a new aspiration.
“You’re spacey…”
“Yeah, I’ve got a lot on my mind.” I sighed, thinking now of Gerard: the drug addict.
“I wonder what’s for dinner…” I asked aloud.
“/That’s/ what’s on your mind?” Mikey let out a laugh.
“Nooo, I just realized I’m hungry”
He smiled and hugged me in a brotherly way, “We’re going out for dinner with a friend”
“Oh yeah? Who?”
“Bert McCracken”
“Oh right…./Bert/” I snorted, “/Bert, Bret, Breth, Betr, Bter, Brte, Tebr/…that’s a fucking weird name”
“Hey, you gotta be nice with Bert. He’s a cool guy” Mikey protested as we walked into the house.
“I sure as hell hope Bert is better than his name” I stammered as Mikey closed the door behind him.
“What’s wrong with my name?” A guy asked from the living room. He had a pair of dark cargo pants below his knee, a dark green T-shirt and a pair of black, dirty converse. His hair was dark, greasy, and thin and hung above his shoulders in a tangled mat. His eyes were piercing blue, a pair of dirty blonde eyebrows suggesting his hair was dyed, and his skin yelled for a tan. He raised one of the accusatory eyebrows waiting for me to reply.
“Er….” I said, trying to buy some time. We were definitely not starting with the right foot.
I don’t know how many people have had to be in the same house with their ex’s, and their ex’s family and a colossal guilt feeling trying to rip their chest apart. If any of you had then multiply that times the biggest number you can assimilate. That’s how awkward I felt. I mean, living with this people was nothing difficult for me, it was Gerard that was disturbing. In so many fucking levels. He had his tantrums from time to time, civil lapses, then again being grumpy, then way too cheerful, and so on. His emotions changed every week, then hours, other times days…you never knew when he was going to change, but when he did you had to prepare for it. I was thinking that there must be something wrong with him as I sat on the Way’s front lawn, legs crossed Indian-style, the sun bathing me. I heard someone sit by my side, totally messing with my train of thought. I turned around and saw Mikey plopped down beside be, his body laying on the evenly cut grass, looking at me through his glasses.
“What’s up…dude?”
“Hullo Mikes” I replied and laid down my back on the grass, my hair falling as a cascade on the grass.
“Wow, you certainly are a model” He said, impressed, as he balanced his weight on his elbow and cradled his chin in his hand to look at me closely. I giggled, “Why do you say so?”
“You do modely poses naturally” He explained and stared at me. I blushed and searched my brain to ask him something that would get us talking about him rather than me.
“Are you still hanging with Alicia?” I asked.
“Oh yeahh! She’s actually a model, too.”
“She is? It’s so funny we haven’t bumped into each other” I replied trying to think if I’d ever heard the name ‘Alicia’ before in the industry and might’ve somehow let it slip. Hmm…Alicia? No, that’s Alicia Nollan…and that other one’s Alica Spleen….Wait! and that other girl? No, no, no! That’s Alicia /Merrlain/. Shit.
“Are you even listening?” Mikey asked a bit louder, raising his eyebrows at me.
“Sorry…I was thinking if I had heard of Alicia and let it pass. What were you saying?” He sighed and laughed at me, just like the old times, before continuing,
“Well, it’s not like the only thing she does is modelling, she…”
“Gabe, you have a call!” Donna called from the window. I shot Mikey an apologetic glance and then hurried to take the phone.
“Hello?” I asked, extending the ‘e’ to sound a upbeat.
“Why in the lord’s name don’t you answer your phone? That’s what a mobile phone’s about! So that everyone can reach you /always/!” Jess’ voice kept getting louder and louder.
“I’m on vacation Jess, I don’t want to be nowhere near the motherfucking cell phone. Now, what’s so important to look for the Way’s number? Stalker much?”
“More like the person that organizes your life for you” She spat.
“Don’t even get me started Jessica! Now, talk or I’ll hang up” I threatened, I knew the edge on my voice let her know I wasn’t kidding.
“Look, Difuse just called, they want you for some shots for some band. They’re pay is good. It’s just a couple of days after you come back. Yes, I suppose?”
“Uh-huh. Is this the reason you’re calling?”
“Yeah that and to be able to say this: I JUST CALLED GERARD WAY’S HOUSEEE!!!”
“For God’s sake!” I yelled at her and hung up, cursing at myself for giving her an emergency number.
“What happened? The lady seemed to be hyperventilating…” Donna asked me, concern on her voice.
“Jess was just being…well, /Jess/” I said with a wry smile as I walked back to the lawn.
“Hey, Mikes I was meaning to ask you something…” I started, finally remembering a resolution I had made just before Mikey interrupted my thoughts.
“Shoot”
“Is…Are Gerard’s mood swings…./normal/?” I accentuated the last word, trying to hint something without really saying it.
“Yeah, he’s been on drugs lately…” Mikey tried to sound casual but he failed: his voice had broken a little.
“Oh…” I looked at my feet, not knowing what to say. “These past weeks or…” I started to ask but Mikey stopped me.
“I don’t think this has anything to do with you. Directly, I mean. He’s been on it ever since we started getting to shows. A lot of guys in the tour do…”
I felt a bit disappointed it didn’t have to be with me. You know, getting a guy to consume drugs because of you shouldn’t really be something to feel proud about, but at least it made you think you meant something for him. Let me give you a piece of my mind. The way I see it, Gerard breaking up with me has only made him a better person. It has only getting him higher. I mean, he’s on his second album with his band. They already have two videos, they’re signed to an okay label, they’re appearing on magazines and starting to get calls instead of making them themselves. They even have a manager!
What does that mean?
That I had been pushing him down?
That I was the reason he was such a failure?
Probably.
So there you have it.
I’m a jealous fuck, I admit it. And it breaks me apart that Gerard’s a better person now that I’m gone. It’s not like I admire him for being ‘famous’. That’s not it…I don’t care about that. If I did I’d have accepted the Playboy shots. But I didn’t. I’m jealous of how he obtained one of his dreams. I, instead, had to settle with a new one. It’s not like I hated modelling, but it wasn’t my childhood dream. It was just a new aspiration.
“You’re spacey…”
“Yeah, I’ve got a lot on my mind.” I sighed, thinking now of Gerard: the drug addict.
“I wonder what’s for dinner…” I asked aloud.
“/That’s/ what’s on your mind?” Mikey let out a laugh.
“Nooo, I just realized I’m hungry”
He smiled and hugged me in a brotherly way, “We’re going out for dinner with a friend”
“Oh yeah? Who?”
“Bert McCracken”
“Oh right…./Bert/” I snorted, “/Bert, Bret, Breth, Betr, Bter, Brte, Tebr/…that’s a fucking weird name”
“Hey, you gotta be nice with Bert. He’s a cool guy” Mikey protested as we walked into the house.
“I sure as hell hope Bert is better than his name” I stammered as Mikey closed the door behind him.
“What’s wrong with my name?” A guy asked from the living room. He had a pair of dark cargo pants below his knee, a dark green T-shirt and a pair of black, dirty converse. His hair was dark, greasy, and thin and hung above his shoulders in a tangled mat. His eyes were piercing blue, a pair of dirty blonde eyebrows suggesting his hair was dyed, and his skin yelled for a tan. He raised one of the accusatory eyebrows waiting for me to reply.
“Er….” I said, trying to buy some time. We were definitely not starting with the right foot.
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