Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Soul Purpose
11. To Be Empty
Beat.
Sweat had formed on her body. Drops of fluid running down from her hairline to reach her temples, slow down a bit and then continue their way down to her chin.
Beat. Beat.
Damp dark hair plastered to her face, soft pale chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath.
Beat.
A faint ringing sound building up the pressure in her head. Eyes slightly unfocused. Her gaze slid towards the back of the crowd. She couldn’t even see the ones at the back, now.
Beat.
She was high.
She entered the song at the same moment the guitars broke in.
“No matter how hard I tried
Nothing ever went right
And I had to run away
from the comforting eyes
and their filthy lies”
Her voice rose a few notches – losing its deep mysterious quality but gaining the texture of a cry – as she moved onto the chorus.
“Somebody
Carve out my heart
Before I tear myself apart
Leave an empty hole behind
Before I lose my mind”
As the distortion quieted, she stopped tossing her head in mid motion – letting her hair settle itself against her shoulders again. She had a challenging look on her face as she started swaying to the now smooth melody. Soft twisting of hips. Baring of the neck. Yet, furious steps of feet. Abrupt turns of head at the drum beat. Defying tone of voice. Teasing…
“Just so you know
I’ll never sink so low
I won’t knock on
the same door twice
I’d rather pay the price”
The guitars once again roared back to life – two guitarists and the singer jumping up at that exact moment.
The bassist on his knees, his head tossed back, fingers moving furiously over the frets. His t-shirt clinging to his shapely torso with perspiration. His body rocking to the music unintentionally, hair shadowing the sharp movements of his head.
The drummer was lost in his own little world, each of his limbs stretched out in a different position, his head banging continuously. Sweat forming up on his brows prominently – but not missing a single beat, nevertheless.
Curly brown hair a still a mess on top of his head, the rhythm guitarist was wandering about every square inch of the stage. Walking, running, jumping and doing about everything no one would expect from his rather shy exterior.
As he began the solo, it was hard to keep track of the lead guitarist’s calloused fingers when they formed a meteoric pace traveling up and down the fret board of his beautiful Gibson. His hips were thrusting against the body of the instrument in a slow, graceful motion – he looked like he was making love to the guitar. His long golden hair was flying around as he let the delicious vibrations pass through his body, reveling in the feeling of the music driving him mad. His eyes were closed. He saw different things. He probably felt like he was making love to the gorgeous piece of art in his hands.
The lead singer dropped to her knees as the last note resonated in the air – riding the tickling and euphoric feeling the loud sound of the bass was making down in her throat, vibrating her vocal chords against her will. .
“Somebody, anybody!” she screamed. Her voice loud and clear, weak and desperate, strong and consuming. Crash. An impact. A collision. Just her voice and the low growl of the bass.
“Just look at me
Don’t look through me…”
Now, her voice resembled a mumbling little girl, almost begging for attention.
“Is it so hard?” the blonde guitarist joined her, sounding like a lost boy.
And once again, they gave themselves over to the chorus, jumping and thrashing as if they were possessed. In a way, they were. Possessed by the very music they, themselves created.
“Somebody
Carve out my heart
Before I tear myself apart
Leave an empty hole behind
Before I lose my mind”
The last note was vibrating in the air as the vocalist walked up to the microphone stand and placed the mic in its place carefully. She stared at the crowd, scanning it as she loved to do. The lead guitarist had started giving delicious feedback for them as they cheered, jumping up and down, pumping their fists in the air.
“How does it feel to be empty?” she half sang, half asked.
His eyes were closed as he got his make up done. His ears were throbbing with the boom of the thunderous music coming from the stage that wasn’t too far from him. His hand went up to touch his throat just above where his vocal chords were vibrating with the attack of the violent sound waves. He smiled at the pleasant feeling.
“They’re really good…” said a distant voice from somewhere behind him. It was Frank, who had started taking peeks at the stage to see what was going on. Now, he was evidently watching the show and jumping up and down in order to warm up at the same time. He had to get those muscles real warm and stretched because he was aware of the possible unfortunate consequences of his violent stage behavior if he didn’t. He didn’t mind getting hurt while thrashing around on stage but he wasn’t the least bit eager to permanently injure himself, either.
Gerard smiled, opening his eyes. They honestly sounded good – much more than good actually, also different. He got a feeling that deciding to take this band on tour with them was one of the best decisions they’d made in a while.
He checked out his reflection on the mirror before walking down the narrow corridor that lead to the stage. Seeing Frank’s energetic movements, he decided it was time to start warming up himself. He stretched his neck toward one side, then the other. He kept walking towards where the tiny guitarist was jumping around and stopped to stand beside him. He always felt like watching a show from backstage was a little bit like stalking. The band usually had no idea that they were being watched from behind their backs because all of their senses would be on overload from the loud music in addition to the cheer of the crowd.
As he stood there, rolling his shoulders from forth to back and stretching his arms, he felt glad that he didn’t feel quite like a stalker right now. The show was amazing. His blood started to boil in no time merely by watching the movements and hearing the music. There was just so much naked energy on stage. It felt like being in the middle of an outburst of something kept in for so long. Something contained, hidden away in a dark corner, locked in a cage had finally come free. It felt strangely fresh and new. He realized it was the excited jolt of being a fairly new band – although he new that Soul Purpose had a history of nearly 2 years. But they were still fresh out of the box, still experimenting with what they had in their hands. They had only yet begun testing their talents and capabilities – still amazed at what they could do like a little child poking at his or her body in amazement, discovering how it felt to be touched for the first time. They hadn’t ever dreamt of limits. That was the feeling the performance awoke – the raw sensation (or illusion, actually) of being limitless. Being weightless. Being free.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and craned his neck to acknowledge the owner. He was met with the unmistakable outline of an afro. Ray was standing behind him and a now not-so-jumpy Frank, his hands resting on their shoulders, his body leaning towards slightly, his expression awed.
“Wow…” he muttered, his eyes closing slowly, his mind emptying to only register the notes coming from the guitar “Awesome solo, really”
Frank raised an eyebrow at that, his lips forming an impish grin.
“Your fingers are itching to be placed on your guitar right now, aren’t they Toro?” he asked. The lead guitarist let out a grin as he nodded.
Gerard looked down at Frank’s own cute little fingers, which were alternating between plain wriggling, curling or stretching. He chuckled, a smug expression on his face.
“Like you’re one to talk.” he said addressing the rhythm guitarist, nodding towards his fingers as he spoke.
“I’m warming up my fingers.” he responded with a smug look of his own, wriggling the semi-cloth-clad fingers of his right hand in front of the vocalist’s face.
The other two just nodded like they knew better.
Gerard’s attention was once more drawn to the show on stage as he heard a new part of the song that had made the crowd go wild the first night they had seen Soul Purpose. Apparently, he had missed it while he was talking to Frank, that night.
Defne’s smooth voice had gained a pissed-off tone and she sounded like she could go kick-ass anytime, now.
“Hey, you!
Close the drapes
It’s too bright
I’m telling you,
This world outside
is too full of sharpness
and brightness
but I’m okay in the darkness
cause I don’t have any sharp corners
Just leave the damn drapes closed
and leave me alone!”
“Get the hell out of here!” Zack and Devon yelled into the microphones in front of them.
“You don’t belong in here!” She could have torn out her throat with that scream. But she seemed okay as she moved onto the chorus. Nevertheless, Gerard still had the feeling that she was going to need a few spoonfuls of honey to tend to her crusty throat later that night.
“That was intense.” Mikey had joined them, now. He leaned over his brother’s shoulder to take a peek at the stage as the others nodded and made approving sounds.
Bob shouted from the end of other end of the corridor. “What the hell are you all doing there crammed up like that?”
“Shush!” hissed Mikey hastily. “We’re watching the show!”
The drummer just rolled his eyes. “Well, the show’s almost fucking over. Shouldn’t you be getting your asses back up here so that you won’t scare the poor guys away when they start to leave the stage?” His voice had begun to lose that ever-present soothing drawl.
They all blinked slowly. They hadn’t thought of that. Finally, Frank started practically skipping towards the dressing room. He looked like a little girl on her way to the playground. Gerard let out a throaty laugh, throwing his head back – the sight of his friend’s tiny body bouncing up and down, his hair flying around was too cute for him to keep his cool.
Mikey and Ray followed his outburst soon. The singer recovered long enough to call out to his friend. “You’re so worked up, you can’t stay put for a minute, can you?”
Frank turned back to face him and stuck his tongue out childishly. “You’re just jealous!”
Gerard laughed harder at that. “ Jealous? Why the hell would I be jealous?”
“Cause you’re getting old and don’t have the energy I have in my young strong body, anymore.”
The singer’s eyes widened at that. That was a low blow. But he would show the guitarist just how much energy he kept contained in his 29-year-old-and-still-young-body once they were on stage.
“I am not old!” he yelled and started a mad dash towards the end of the corridor to tackle his friend. “And just for the record Frankie, no other human being has the kind of energy you have in your young strong body. ” He mimicked Frank’s deep cocky tone as he drawled out “young strong body”.
The two landed on the dressing room floor with a loud thud as Gerard practically jumped on the smaller man.
“I’m gonna kick your little hyper ass so hard you won’t be able to sit on it for a week!” cried Gerard as he struggled to turn the wiggling man, who was trapped under his body, on his stomach.
Frank couldn’t help but giggle like a giddy school girl but he didn’t give in to the other man’s efforts to get his ass in the spanking-zone.
He looked for a vulnerable moment of his friend and managed to flip them over. They didn’t stop rolling on the floor until Bob came and literally peeled them off of each other, all the while telling them to keep what little energy they had left for the stage.
They both glared at the drummer but didn’t dare mess with him, nonetheless.
It was a lot like it used to be back in the day. Just like old times. Messing around, tackling each other, being afraid of Bob – though they had never actually got over the latter.
Gerard realized that they were freshening up a bit. What little solemnity they had gained during the years, was now starting to wear off. After having played as “The Black Parade” for nearly a year, it seemed they were all eager to go back to the good old “My Chemical Romance”. Maybe that was why he had bleached his hair back to its signature jet-black and let it grow into a complete mess, once more. He had also noticed Frank had found his lip ring once again – probably having missed it after living with it for so long. Mikey wasn’t likely to be putting his glasses back on his nose again anytime soon. But still, it felt like they were back to the basics, to the more fun, more careless times. And the best part was that they had learnt from their mistakes and wouldn’t make the same wrong decisions again.
It was going to be better. They had finally confronted their demons and won the battle. Maybe that had been the purpose of The Black Parade from the beginning – to help them face life itself, to help them overcome the fear of living. Gerard had known from the moment he wrote the first lyrics of the album that it was going to be different. That he wasn’t afraid of dying anymore, but he was actually afraid of living.
The Black Parade had served its purpose so well. Had turned all of them into better people. Older people but yet, younger people, still.
The music they heard that night had only proceeded to fasten the pace of their evolution a little bit. The feelings they experienced had only strengthened their faith in themselves that they could pull this off – this whatever they were turning into.
Gerard’s eyes wandered around the room, hesitating on every one of his band mates. Grown men who were not afraid to come face to face with their pasts. Young men hopeful for their future.
They had matching knowing smiles on their faces as they locked eyes with each other one by one.
A/N: And the end of yet another chapter… I know the timeline of this story seems a bit twisted if Gerard is still 29 (though more close to 30) but they’ve been playing as The Black Parade for nearly a year but… parallel universe, yeah. That’s the solution!
Also, once again, the lyrics are original. I don’t mind if you happen to like them and want to borrow them, but it would be sooo nice if you let me know first ;)
Please be so kind to review and let me know about what you think about this chapter. Especially the end of this one was really hard to write, I don’t know if I was able to express what I wanted to say efficiently. So, reviews are very very very welcome =)
Beat.
Sweat had formed on her body. Drops of fluid running down from her hairline to reach her temples, slow down a bit and then continue their way down to her chin.
Beat. Beat.
Damp dark hair plastered to her face, soft pale chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath.
Beat.
A faint ringing sound building up the pressure in her head. Eyes slightly unfocused. Her gaze slid towards the back of the crowd. She couldn’t even see the ones at the back, now.
Beat.
She was high.
She entered the song at the same moment the guitars broke in.
“No matter how hard I tried
Nothing ever went right
And I had to run away
from the comforting eyes
and their filthy lies”
Her voice rose a few notches – losing its deep mysterious quality but gaining the texture of a cry – as she moved onto the chorus.
“Somebody
Carve out my heart
Before I tear myself apart
Leave an empty hole behind
Before I lose my mind”
As the distortion quieted, she stopped tossing her head in mid motion – letting her hair settle itself against her shoulders again. She had a challenging look on her face as she started swaying to the now smooth melody. Soft twisting of hips. Baring of the neck. Yet, furious steps of feet. Abrupt turns of head at the drum beat. Defying tone of voice. Teasing…
“Just so you know
I’ll never sink so low
I won’t knock on
the same door twice
I’d rather pay the price”
The guitars once again roared back to life – two guitarists and the singer jumping up at that exact moment.
The bassist on his knees, his head tossed back, fingers moving furiously over the frets. His t-shirt clinging to his shapely torso with perspiration. His body rocking to the music unintentionally, hair shadowing the sharp movements of his head.
The drummer was lost in his own little world, each of his limbs stretched out in a different position, his head banging continuously. Sweat forming up on his brows prominently – but not missing a single beat, nevertheless.
Curly brown hair a still a mess on top of his head, the rhythm guitarist was wandering about every square inch of the stage. Walking, running, jumping and doing about everything no one would expect from his rather shy exterior.
As he began the solo, it was hard to keep track of the lead guitarist’s calloused fingers when they formed a meteoric pace traveling up and down the fret board of his beautiful Gibson. His hips were thrusting against the body of the instrument in a slow, graceful motion – he looked like he was making love to the guitar. His long golden hair was flying around as he let the delicious vibrations pass through his body, reveling in the feeling of the music driving him mad. His eyes were closed. He saw different things. He probably felt like he was making love to the gorgeous piece of art in his hands.
The lead singer dropped to her knees as the last note resonated in the air – riding the tickling and euphoric feeling the loud sound of the bass was making down in her throat, vibrating her vocal chords against her will. .
“Somebody, anybody!” she screamed. Her voice loud and clear, weak and desperate, strong and consuming. Crash. An impact. A collision. Just her voice and the low growl of the bass.
“Just look at me
Don’t look through me…”
Now, her voice resembled a mumbling little girl, almost begging for attention.
“Is it so hard?” the blonde guitarist joined her, sounding like a lost boy.
And once again, they gave themselves over to the chorus, jumping and thrashing as if they were possessed. In a way, they were. Possessed by the very music they, themselves created.
“Somebody
Carve out my heart
Before I tear myself apart
Leave an empty hole behind
Before I lose my mind”
The last note was vibrating in the air as the vocalist walked up to the microphone stand and placed the mic in its place carefully. She stared at the crowd, scanning it as she loved to do. The lead guitarist had started giving delicious feedback for them as they cheered, jumping up and down, pumping their fists in the air.
“How does it feel to be empty?” she half sang, half asked.
His eyes were closed as he got his make up done. His ears were throbbing with the boom of the thunderous music coming from the stage that wasn’t too far from him. His hand went up to touch his throat just above where his vocal chords were vibrating with the attack of the violent sound waves. He smiled at the pleasant feeling.
“They’re really good…” said a distant voice from somewhere behind him. It was Frank, who had started taking peeks at the stage to see what was going on. Now, he was evidently watching the show and jumping up and down in order to warm up at the same time. He had to get those muscles real warm and stretched because he was aware of the possible unfortunate consequences of his violent stage behavior if he didn’t. He didn’t mind getting hurt while thrashing around on stage but he wasn’t the least bit eager to permanently injure himself, either.
Gerard smiled, opening his eyes. They honestly sounded good – much more than good actually, also different. He got a feeling that deciding to take this band on tour with them was one of the best decisions they’d made in a while.
He checked out his reflection on the mirror before walking down the narrow corridor that lead to the stage. Seeing Frank’s energetic movements, he decided it was time to start warming up himself. He stretched his neck toward one side, then the other. He kept walking towards where the tiny guitarist was jumping around and stopped to stand beside him. He always felt like watching a show from backstage was a little bit like stalking. The band usually had no idea that they were being watched from behind their backs because all of their senses would be on overload from the loud music in addition to the cheer of the crowd.
As he stood there, rolling his shoulders from forth to back and stretching his arms, he felt glad that he didn’t feel quite like a stalker right now. The show was amazing. His blood started to boil in no time merely by watching the movements and hearing the music. There was just so much naked energy on stage. It felt like being in the middle of an outburst of something kept in for so long. Something contained, hidden away in a dark corner, locked in a cage had finally come free. It felt strangely fresh and new. He realized it was the excited jolt of being a fairly new band – although he new that Soul Purpose had a history of nearly 2 years. But they were still fresh out of the box, still experimenting with what they had in their hands. They had only yet begun testing their talents and capabilities – still amazed at what they could do like a little child poking at his or her body in amazement, discovering how it felt to be touched for the first time. They hadn’t ever dreamt of limits. That was the feeling the performance awoke – the raw sensation (or illusion, actually) of being limitless. Being weightless. Being free.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and craned his neck to acknowledge the owner. He was met with the unmistakable outline of an afro. Ray was standing behind him and a now not-so-jumpy Frank, his hands resting on their shoulders, his body leaning towards slightly, his expression awed.
“Wow…” he muttered, his eyes closing slowly, his mind emptying to only register the notes coming from the guitar “Awesome solo, really”
Frank raised an eyebrow at that, his lips forming an impish grin.
“Your fingers are itching to be placed on your guitar right now, aren’t they Toro?” he asked. The lead guitarist let out a grin as he nodded.
Gerard looked down at Frank’s own cute little fingers, which were alternating between plain wriggling, curling or stretching. He chuckled, a smug expression on his face.
“Like you’re one to talk.” he said addressing the rhythm guitarist, nodding towards his fingers as he spoke.
“I’m warming up my fingers.” he responded with a smug look of his own, wriggling the semi-cloth-clad fingers of his right hand in front of the vocalist’s face.
The other two just nodded like they knew better.
Gerard’s attention was once more drawn to the show on stage as he heard a new part of the song that had made the crowd go wild the first night they had seen Soul Purpose. Apparently, he had missed it while he was talking to Frank, that night.
Defne’s smooth voice had gained a pissed-off tone and she sounded like she could go kick-ass anytime, now.
“Hey, you!
Close the drapes
It’s too bright
I’m telling you,
This world outside
is too full of sharpness
and brightness
but I’m okay in the darkness
cause I don’t have any sharp corners
Just leave the damn drapes closed
and leave me alone!”
“Get the hell out of here!” Zack and Devon yelled into the microphones in front of them.
“You don’t belong in here!” She could have torn out her throat with that scream. But she seemed okay as she moved onto the chorus. Nevertheless, Gerard still had the feeling that she was going to need a few spoonfuls of honey to tend to her crusty throat later that night.
“That was intense.” Mikey had joined them, now. He leaned over his brother’s shoulder to take a peek at the stage as the others nodded and made approving sounds.
Bob shouted from the end of other end of the corridor. “What the hell are you all doing there crammed up like that?”
“Shush!” hissed Mikey hastily. “We’re watching the show!”
The drummer just rolled his eyes. “Well, the show’s almost fucking over. Shouldn’t you be getting your asses back up here so that you won’t scare the poor guys away when they start to leave the stage?” His voice had begun to lose that ever-present soothing drawl.
They all blinked slowly. They hadn’t thought of that. Finally, Frank started practically skipping towards the dressing room. He looked like a little girl on her way to the playground. Gerard let out a throaty laugh, throwing his head back – the sight of his friend’s tiny body bouncing up and down, his hair flying around was too cute for him to keep his cool.
Mikey and Ray followed his outburst soon. The singer recovered long enough to call out to his friend. “You’re so worked up, you can’t stay put for a minute, can you?”
Frank turned back to face him and stuck his tongue out childishly. “You’re just jealous!”
Gerard laughed harder at that. “ Jealous? Why the hell would I be jealous?”
“Cause you’re getting old and don’t have the energy I have in my young strong body, anymore.”
The singer’s eyes widened at that. That was a low blow. But he would show the guitarist just how much energy he kept contained in his 29-year-old-and-still-young-body once they were on stage.
“I am not old!” he yelled and started a mad dash towards the end of the corridor to tackle his friend. “And just for the record Frankie, no other human being has the kind of energy you have in your young strong body. ” He mimicked Frank’s deep cocky tone as he drawled out “young strong body”.
The two landed on the dressing room floor with a loud thud as Gerard practically jumped on the smaller man.
“I’m gonna kick your little hyper ass so hard you won’t be able to sit on it for a week!” cried Gerard as he struggled to turn the wiggling man, who was trapped under his body, on his stomach.
Frank couldn’t help but giggle like a giddy school girl but he didn’t give in to the other man’s efforts to get his ass in the spanking-zone.
He looked for a vulnerable moment of his friend and managed to flip them over. They didn’t stop rolling on the floor until Bob came and literally peeled them off of each other, all the while telling them to keep what little energy they had left for the stage.
They both glared at the drummer but didn’t dare mess with him, nonetheless.
It was a lot like it used to be back in the day. Just like old times. Messing around, tackling each other, being afraid of Bob – though they had never actually got over the latter.
Gerard realized that they were freshening up a bit. What little solemnity they had gained during the years, was now starting to wear off. After having played as “The Black Parade” for nearly a year, it seemed they were all eager to go back to the good old “My Chemical Romance”. Maybe that was why he had bleached his hair back to its signature jet-black and let it grow into a complete mess, once more. He had also noticed Frank had found his lip ring once again – probably having missed it after living with it for so long. Mikey wasn’t likely to be putting his glasses back on his nose again anytime soon. But still, it felt like they were back to the basics, to the more fun, more careless times. And the best part was that they had learnt from their mistakes and wouldn’t make the same wrong decisions again.
It was going to be better. They had finally confronted their demons and won the battle. Maybe that had been the purpose of The Black Parade from the beginning – to help them face life itself, to help them overcome the fear of living. Gerard had known from the moment he wrote the first lyrics of the album that it was going to be different. That he wasn’t afraid of dying anymore, but he was actually afraid of living.
The Black Parade had served its purpose so well. Had turned all of them into better people. Older people but yet, younger people, still.
The music they heard that night had only proceeded to fasten the pace of their evolution a little bit. The feelings they experienced had only strengthened their faith in themselves that they could pull this off – this whatever they were turning into.
Gerard’s eyes wandered around the room, hesitating on every one of his band mates. Grown men who were not afraid to come face to face with their pasts. Young men hopeful for their future.
They had matching knowing smiles on their faces as they locked eyes with each other one by one.
A/N: And the end of yet another chapter… I know the timeline of this story seems a bit twisted if Gerard is still 29 (though more close to 30) but they’ve been playing as The Black Parade for nearly a year but… parallel universe, yeah. That’s the solution!
Also, once again, the lyrics are original. I don’t mind if you happen to like them and want to borrow them, but it would be sooo nice if you let me know first ;)
Please be so kind to review and let me know about what you think about this chapter. Especially the end of this one was really hard to write, I don’t know if I was able to express what I wanted to say efficiently. So, reviews are very very very welcome =)
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