FicWad

*A/N: Okay, so I’m going to move a lot of shit around in this story. The dates of real life happenings will be different. I know mostly all the real life dates of things but I rather change things around on you all. It’s fanfiction, hell, I can write about hippos with potato guns bringing on the apocalypse in a Catholic church. But I’m not going to… cause that doesn’t fit in with this story at all.

I hate it when people comment on my things saying “well that isn’t true!” Blah de blah de blah. FanFICTION people. It’s not called FanNON-FICTION is it?

No, it isn’t.

And I do NOT have anything against Lyn-Z. I respect her rightfully and I like to keep my dignity. Unlike those out there who joust about how much of a whore she is. She’s not a whore…. You’re just really jealous and are deciding to make up awful excuses for why Gerard should leave Lyn-Z.

(You know you’re lame when…. Am I right?)

I just didn’t put Lyn-Z in cause I thought it would be rude… I’d just take her out of the story this chapter with harsh wordings. I’d never do that to her.

Any who, enough with my yapping. I’ll shut up and let you get to the story. Enjoy! =)
I sounded so much like a bitch right there it wasn’t funny hahah…. Sorry. Didn’t mean for it to sound that harsh. Keeping the mellow, helping the peace.

(BTW… I wrote this in 2008.)



Chapter 2: Calling On All Those With Grace

August 29th 2007

“Thank you New Jersey!” he screamed as the lead guitarist finished playing the last note.
He waved, blew kisses, the usual. It was always like this. Every show was different for everyone else. Whether it be because of song order, stage dives, poems recited for the audience, or if he had orgasmic experiences; much to the crowd’s approval.
Yet, every show was the same for him.
He usually awoke early every morning after barely 4 hours of sleep, dressed, got a cup of coffee, then was escorted for interviews and autograph signings before having to go to the venue. He’d then slather on some make-up and prance around on stage for over 3 hours, come off exhausted and stand around talking and signing autographs for another 2 hours. After all that mayhem, he’d be escorted out to the tour bus and find himself crashing on the nearest resting place.
“That was amazing!” his rhythm guitarist, Frank Iero shouted, slapping him on the shoulder.
“When is it not?” he said is his best cheery voice. The short jet black haired man laughed at his comment before going to talk to others, leaving him to stand there. Tonight, after the show, there wasn’t as many people as there was every night. Usually backstage would be packed with adoring screaming fans wanting to simply touch him before fainting.
For the most part it wasn’t so bad. It made him forget about how lonely and depressed he was for a good amount of time.
After only an hour of mingling, he found himself walking with the rest of the band mates and their girlfriends and/or fiancées over to the tour bus, security guards making sure that their short travel was a safe and happy one.
It was safe for him, but to Gerard Way, it wasn’t happy. Looking around at his best friends and their loved ones laughing and chatting away, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness. He never regretted the lovers and loves he had in his life. But there was always a couple of the same things involved with each of them in the past: drugs, alcohol, mindless sex and drunken rages.
He was slowly killing himself, but he didn’t care. Not until 3 years ago.

**Flashback***

He was binge drinking, trying to forget everything that happened that day. His girlfriend of 5 months, Sage, slapped him on the face after he told her that he liked her better after a couple martinis.
He didn’t think anything was wrong with this. All he did was say that, then tried to get her to fuck him in behind a bus. No big deal, right? Apparently, it was.
“No you piece of shit!” she yelled as he felt the pain protruding from the spot where she had hit him. “I’m not having sex with you again! You son of a bitch!” With that she stormed off. He went to find her, to tell her he was sorry, but then he wound up inside The Used’s tour bus, watching as both Sage and Bert McCracken screwed themselves senseless. He was heartbroken, and that night he wound up cutting deeper and deeper into his already rising depression.
He suddenly found himself thinking about suicide.
“Why am I even here?” he whispered to himself, putting his head in his hands. Just then, he heard the majestic voice of a woman laughing half-heartedly ahead of him. He looked up to find no one there. He sighed loudly at himself, before bringing his head down to his hands again, closing his eyes.
I’m going fuckin insane.
Then, he heard the laugh again. This time, it was followed by the woman’s voice talking.
“I believe you are already insane. I just add to the sanity and hazard of your well-being.” He looked up to find what looked like the shadow of a woman against a bus further up. He squinted to see if he could see who it was, but the fact that he was way passed drunk and it was night time didn’t help at all.
Is she talking to me?
“Yes, I am you moron. Unless there is someone else who is outside who I could talk to. But sadly, all I can do is converse with you. How sad.” Her voice was clearly talking to him at this point, and with it, he found himself growing into his drunken stupor. He grinned, and took a swig of the bottle he was holding.
“Darling, I’ll gladly show you other things you can do.”
“And I’ll gladly slice your throat in for you,” the woman said to him with the same enthusiasm. Something told him she wasn’t lying.
“Now,” she said, her voice soft velvet to his ears, started, “it seems to me you’re wishing to end your life. May I ask why?”
“Why should I tell you?” he spat at her.
She sighed impatiently. “Let me tell you then.” Where he was sitting, he could make out her pale silhouette as she almost drifted along the ground, closer to him.
“Your grandmother was the one who showed you who you actually were inside, the one whom helped you start your signing career with your precious little band. The one whom you thought loved you like a son and would never leave you here on earth alone to fend for yourself.
“But you were foolish, you got into drugs and alcohol. You never came around to her house as much, and when she got ill…” She paused, staring intently at his pain-stricken face under the small light beside him. “I am on track, am I not?” When he didn’t answer, she continued on.
“When she got ill, you shrugged to your teary-eyed parents, telling them it was no big deal. It was just a brain tumor. Silly boy, she was dying, even you know that.
“On the day she died, she asked for you, but you never came, did you? No, you didn’t. Your so-called ‘fiancé’ left you because apparently she found someone else. You push away your younger brother as he tries to reach out to help you. When he’s in pain, you’re always walking away from him. You do this to everyone. And now, you’re trying to drink away all the problems in your small, pathetic ingrate life. How lovely to see you in so much pain.”
He could hear the amused grin through her voice. Furious, he managed to somehow stand up out of his folding chair, and pointed the hand holding the bottle out at her, swaying a bit.
“Oooh, anger,” she said amusingly, “I think we’re coming around to our senses and we’ll tell the stunningly, beautiful creature standing in front of us why we hate life.”
“I can’t take this any longer!” he shouted at her. “Do you realize how hard it is? Every fucking person in my life hates me now, and there’s no reason to live. I’ve fucked up my life beyond belief, my brother’s. My life’s meaningless, and I don‘t deserve to live like this anymore.”
“You don’t see how much you have, how much there is in your life to be thankful for. People need your help and all you do is think about is you and how sad your pitiful little life turned out.
“So,” she said, seeming to come even closer to him, but not close enough to make out her face. “After saying all that, do you really think your life is so miserable that it should be ended?”
He nodded his head. “I think that would be best.”
Suddenly, is a flash of movement, she had him by the throat, suspending him in mid air. That didn’t terrify him as much as her, though.
Her face was beautifully sculpted, but it was a face of death. Her eyes were bleeding red as she opened her mouth to hiss at him, exposing her fangs.
“Calling all those with grace,” she whispered in his ear. “Look at the world around you. Think about others before yourself. Or else next time, I might just decide not to let you go. Until we meet again, Gerard,” she cooed with deathly ease.
He found himself on the ground, crying, alone a moment later.

**End flashback**

Crawling into bed now, Gerard thought of how the next day he took all his drugs and alcohol and threw it all into a dumpster.
To believe, he thought to himself, that the most beautiful woman, -well, whatever she was,- that he had ever laid eyes upon had threatened his life, to teach him morals.
Closing his eyes, he drifted off into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of meeting her again one day.
Ironically, that one day would never come.
But that one night would come sooner than he had ever expected.