Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Lost? Or Just Waiting To Be Found?
It was Saturday afternoon when my older brother Steven knocked on my bedroom door, saying that there was a boy on the phone for me.
“How did you get my number?” Was the first thing I asked Gerard when I picked up the phone in the hallway.
“There’s this magical thing…” He informed me. “It’s called a phone book.”
“Damn,” I murmured to myself. “What do you want?”
“Movie. Really nasty, bloody, gore filled horror flick. You in?”
I nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I’m in.” I answered after a moment.
“Great!” Gerard sounded excited. “I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes.” He hung up without another word.
“Who was that?” Steven asked with a smirk as I dug through my closet for something to wear. It was 2:30, but I was still wearing my pajamas.
“Gerard,” I replied. “And no, we are not dating.” I grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled a black tee shirt with blue paint splotches out of a pile beside my bed. “Excuse me,” I said sarcastically, pushing past him and heading for the bathroom.
Exactly 18.3 minutes later, I was walking out the front door in a pair of tattered old converse, a wad of dollar bills in my left pocket, a cell phone in my right. Half way to Gerard’s car, I stopped. There was someone else sitting in the passenger seat. Lifting one eyebrow a fraction of an inch, I opened the door to the back seat and got in.
“Anna, this is my brother, Mikey.” Gerard turned to grin at me, motioned one hand to the younger boy in the passenger seat. He looked to be about freshmen year, and had Gerard’s eyes.
“Hi Mikey,” I nodded to him as I buckled myself in. He mumbled a hello.
I don’t remember what the movie was about, only that there was a lot of blood, and a lot of screaming. The three of us sat in the back of the theatre, and spent most of the two and a half hours throwing popcorn at each other. Once the movie was over, Gerard announced that I was coming over to their house for dinner.
“Yuck, I think there’s a piece in my shirt!” I fished a piece of popcorn from my bra as we walked through the door of the Way’s house. It wasn’t the nicest home I had ever been in, but it had the feel of an actual home, unlike my own. Mikey laughed, kicking off his shoes by the door and tossing his coat on a chair.
“We’re home!” Gerard yelled, walking down the hall without bother to take off his shoes. He motioned for me to follow him, and I did so. He pushed open the door at the end of the hall, letting me in his room and pulling the door closed behind him.
To this very day I still believe that Gerard’s room is the very best place in the entire world. The walls were painted dark, but nearly hidden behind band posters and drawings that he must have done himself. Like my own room, piles of clothes and books littered the lush carpeting. But my favorite part of it was the large window on one wall, the black curtain drawn back.
Gerard pressed a button on his stereo, which began to blast music. I curled up in a soft chair beside the window, and he flopped down on the bed. More than an hour later, Mikey knocked on the door, brining the message that food was now on the table.
Dinner was nothing short of awkward. I sat between Gerard and his mother, who was hammering me with all sorts of bizarre questions. I couldn’t be happier when it was over and Gerard was driving me home.
“I’m sorry about my mom,” he apologized as we drove down the dark New Jersey streets. “She’s just a bit… overprotective.”
“Overprotective!” I scoffed. “She’s afraid to leave you in the kitchen by yourself, because there are sharp objects in there!”
“How did you get my number?” Was the first thing I asked Gerard when I picked up the phone in the hallway.
“There’s this magical thing…” He informed me. “It’s called a phone book.”
“Damn,” I murmured to myself. “What do you want?”
“Movie. Really nasty, bloody, gore filled horror flick. You in?”
I nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I’m in.” I answered after a moment.
“Great!” Gerard sounded excited. “I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes.” He hung up without another word.
“Who was that?” Steven asked with a smirk as I dug through my closet for something to wear. It was 2:30, but I was still wearing my pajamas.
“Gerard,” I replied. “And no, we are not dating.” I grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled a black tee shirt with blue paint splotches out of a pile beside my bed. “Excuse me,” I said sarcastically, pushing past him and heading for the bathroom.
Exactly 18.3 minutes later, I was walking out the front door in a pair of tattered old converse, a wad of dollar bills in my left pocket, a cell phone in my right. Half way to Gerard’s car, I stopped. There was someone else sitting in the passenger seat. Lifting one eyebrow a fraction of an inch, I opened the door to the back seat and got in.
“Anna, this is my brother, Mikey.” Gerard turned to grin at me, motioned one hand to the younger boy in the passenger seat. He looked to be about freshmen year, and had Gerard’s eyes.
“Hi Mikey,” I nodded to him as I buckled myself in. He mumbled a hello.
I don’t remember what the movie was about, only that there was a lot of blood, and a lot of screaming. The three of us sat in the back of the theatre, and spent most of the two and a half hours throwing popcorn at each other. Once the movie was over, Gerard announced that I was coming over to their house for dinner.
“Yuck, I think there’s a piece in my shirt!” I fished a piece of popcorn from my bra as we walked through the door of the Way’s house. It wasn’t the nicest home I had ever been in, but it had the feel of an actual home, unlike my own. Mikey laughed, kicking off his shoes by the door and tossing his coat on a chair.
“We’re home!” Gerard yelled, walking down the hall without bother to take off his shoes. He motioned for me to follow him, and I did so. He pushed open the door at the end of the hall, letting me in his room and pulling the door closed behind him.
To this very day I still believe that Gerard’s room is the very best place in the entire world. The walls were painted dark, but nearly hidden behind band posters and drawings that he must have done himself. Like my own room, piles of clothes and books littered the lush carpeting. But my favorite part of it was the large window on one wall, the black curtain drawn back.
Gerard pressed a button on his stereo, which began to blast music. I curled up in a soft chair beside the window, and he flopped down on the bed. More than an hour later, Mikey knocked on the door, brining the message that food was now on the table.
Dinner was nothing short of awkward. I sat between Gerard and his mother, who was hammering me with all sorts of bizarre questions. I couldn’t be happier when it was over and Gerard was driving me home.
“I’m sorry about my mom,” he apologized as we drove down the dark New Jersey streets. “She’s just a bit… overprotective.”
“Overprotective!” I scoffed. “She’s afraid to leave you in the kitchen by yourself, because there are sharp objects in there!”
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