Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Everyone shakes to the beat with a barrel down their throats.
Chapter Four: I've spent the night dancing. I'm drunk, I suppose.
1 reviewNo ammount of happiness can compare to that you get when you see a friendly face amoungst a crowd of strangers when your drunk. Slight FERARD!
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WARNING: Swearing, bad language, alcohol and drug abuse. SLIGHT FERARD - If that's a warning. Not much though, just enough.
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Chapter Four
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"Wake up sleepy head!"
Gerard groaned as consciousness came back to him and he became very aware of the horrible pounding in his head. Cautiously, he opened up his eyes, only to be greeted by harsh daylight that felt like it was burning a permanent mark into them.
"Turn that shit out," he mumbled drowsily as he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the natural light.
"Man, you're such a light-weight," Bert laughed from his bunk as he threw a jacket at Gerard, he realised it was his own jacket; he must have taken it off during the night.
He wearily put his jacket back on, taking a lot longer then was normal; his body just didn't seem to want to work properly. Too much alcohol. Had he really drank as much as he thought he had? He remembered going back to Bert's and joining the others, they were already pretty out of it and he had wanted to catch up. Man was the band going to be pissed if they ever found out, especially when he had done a line of cocaine in their own bus. Then he remembered ... The band!
"Fuck! What time is it?" he asked loudly as he was suddenly very awake and in search of his shoes.
"Erm ..." Bert looked all around him, including under his blankets, but when he couldn't find anything that had the time, he threw his pillow at a sleeping Quinn.
"Wha-tha-fuck?" Quinn mumbled as he jolted awake.
"Morning sunshine! You got the time over there?" Bert laughed as Quinn tucked the thrown pillow under his head with his own and tried to go back to sleep.
"You seriously woke me for that?"
"Uh ... yeah!"
Quinn rubbed his bloodshot eyes as he reached under his pile of pillows and pulled out his phone. Gerard pulled on his shoes as he waited impatiently for the time.
"Ten, fourty five," Quinn announced, letting his head fall back onto the pillow and shutting his eyes.
"SHIT!" Gerard shouted as he hoisted himself to his feet. They were going to go on stage in fifteen minutes and he hadn't even warmed up yet! "Shit, shit, shit!"
"Aren’t you supposed to be on stage soon?" Bert asked with the hint of a laugh, but Gerard was already out the door. He swore again and then took off at a run towards the stage.
There were a few late arrivals still lingering outside the fenced area, but most fans and what not would be at the main arena already, listening to the bands that had been playing for a little over an hour now. But when My Chemical Romance would be called out, well he knew the band would be crapping themselves. This in mind, he picked up the pace and turned his run into an all out sprint.
He had smoked to much last night, that was for sure, he was dangerously out of breath by the time he got even close to back stage, now all he had to do was find the band and hope he had at least a few minutes to do some vocal exercises.
"Gerard ... what the fuck?" someone called out as he hurriedly walked towards the room he knew his band would be in. He came to a sudden stop as he recognised the voice.
"Bob! Man, I'm sorry. I over slept and Bert didn't wake me," he said through deep breaths, he really had to stop smoking if he was going to continue running like this.
"Dude, where have you been? We were about to cancel!" Bob looked utterly stunned to actually see Gerard and he looked him up and down as though he was unsure whether he was really there or not.
"I was tired, I fell asleep at Bert's ... he didn't wake me, but I'm here now. How much time we got?"
"About five ... Man, I swear, you're pushing it." Bob didn't look angry, that wasn't really his thing. He simply looked frustrated at Gerard’s very late entrance, still, he was there and that was something. So he followed Bob back to the room where the rest of the band was looking very anxious.
"It's about fucking time!" Frank exclaimed with relief written all over his face. Mikey had been sitting on the lounge taking deep breaths, he never dealt with stress well, but he had stood up the moment he had heard Frank's words.
"Man, Gerard, we thought you'd forgotten," Mikey announced joining Frank in letting out a very big sigh of relief. Fans hated it when you cancelled a performance, even if it was just for one day and a measly three songs.
Gerard quickly explained once again where he had been but didn't go into any detail about what he had got up to last night. They didn't need to know, even though they looked at him suspiciously when he told his rather rushed story. Still, there was no time to linger on it or ask questions, which he was grateful for, because as they could hear the excited voices of the last band walking past their door, they knew it was time to go on.
Following closely behind Frank, who took the lead today, they all walked onto the stage to a procession of loud cheers and clapping as thousands of fans waved or threw their fists in the air for them. It didn't bother Gerard that he hadn't warmed up, he was to busy noticing just how sick he felt. He had been so caught up in getting here on time that he had jolted awake and run out the door without even noticing how he actually felt ... awful.
Stepping up to the mic he screamed words of encouragement to the crowd, he wanted their hands in the air and they put their hands in the air. It was time for a song, an old one and as Frank, Mikey, Ray and Bob started playing, he broke into the lyrics of 'You know what they do to guys like us in prison.' As the crowd roared louder then he could sing and the instruments drowned out any good notes that he hit, it didn't really matter that he didn't sound as good as he usually did, because no one really cared. They just wanted to sing along to the lyrics, they just wanted to run at each other and jump around and scream; so long as you played anything that sounded similar to the song you had promised, they would be happy.
The sickly feeling was rising and Gerard found himself not talking to the crowd nearly as much as he usually did, the less he opened his mouth the better, because he felt like he was going to be sick. Man, he must have had way too much to drink last night; just so long as he made it through the performance it would be fine. Luckily they had agreed on what songs they would play for each of the days they performed and today, it was all of their old stuff, which suited him fine, because he didn't even have to think about the lyrics.
Next they sung 'Helena' and after that was their final song. Just three songs, but it felt like a lifetime for Gerard, who was now feeling extremely exhausted and unwell. 'I'm not okay', eerily fitting for his current state of well-being.
As they neared the end of the song, Frank approached him like he usually did. To jump on him maybe, tackle him on stage, push his head into him, wrestle him for the mic, whatever it was that he was planning. Gerard was now feeling so under the weather that he was seriously struggling not to throw up all over the stage. As Frank played closer and closer he moved away, not wanting him to attack him and cause his concentration at keeping his stomach down to fail.
He reached Gerard and nudged his rib cage roughly with his head as he played his guitar vigorously. For such a small guy, he was strong, especially when he put all his body weight into you and Gerard struggled to get out all of the final lyrics as his heart rate increased and his breathing became heavier as his stomach rose higher and higher. The moment the song was over, he gave the crowd a quick wave and ran off the stage. He only just made it behind the curtain and out of site before he threw up in one of back stage’s dark corners.
"You okay Gee?" Mikey asked as he ran up behind him and rubbed his back gently. Gerard leant his head against the wall he had spewed near, bracing himself because he could feel it going to happen again.
"Yeah ... ran to much," he said, trying to laugh so that they wouldn't get suspicious and know he had been up all night drinking. They weren't that stupid.
"Too much to drink last night?" Frank asked, but Gerard knew he wasn't really asking, he already knew the answer.
Gerard just groaned into the wall as he tried concentrating all his efforts on breathing deeply so he wouldn't be sick again. It didn't work, his body tensed and then he threw up once more. Whilst Frank may have been a little pissed off at Gerard's current state and turning up far to late to their performance, he always pulled through for him when he was sick like this and he joined Mikey in trying to calm him down enough to stop being sick. The two of them helping him stand straight and steady his breathing helped and Gerard felt he could actually try and make it back to their bus without throwing up again.
He felt a little bad at having not performed to his best on stage, so even though he still felt pretty ill, he stayed for at least a half hour at the fence signing autographs and shaking peoples hands, not an easy thing to do through the tours fences. Naturally, he was slightly distracted by the deepest desire to simply sleep off his hang-over and that was probably why he did the stupidest thing he could possibly do.
When they made it back to their tour bus, he had already decided that he would try and get a few more hours sleep before attempting to do anything, even go get coffee. So whilst the rest of the band discussed which bands they wanted to see perform and what else they were going to do with their day, Gerard took off his shoes and removed his jacket again. That was when, on auto-pilot, he went to remove the uncomfortable lump that was in his pocket. He couldn't for the life of him remember what it was, so he reached in and pulled it out, only to shove it straight back in again, his heart beating very fast. It was the cocaine Bert had given him and he hoped to god that no one had seen.
He was almost too nervous to turn around and look at his friends, who stood right behind him, but when curiosity got the better of him he did look around. Bob and Ray had their back's to him and Mikey was to busy making himself a coffee, but Frank was facing him, his arms crossed in front of his chest, seemingly in deep conversation, but Gerard knew he had seen. It was such a Frank thing to do, he wouldn't make a scene. When he had turned around, Frank had been looking at him, he knew it, but the second he made nervous eye contact, the guitar played had looked away, pretending he hadn't noticed. Heart beating faster then he liked given how unwell he felt, he simply tried to shake the memory from his head and he crawled into his bed.
"You gonna sleep?" Mikey asked, appearing at his side only moments after he put the blankets over himself.
"Yeah, just for a few hours," Gerard responded, forcing a smile so his brother didn't worry to much about him. He had been sick before, it was no big deal, but it was because he was sick from drinking that Mikey looked so concerned. It had been years since they had seen him like this after all.
"Okay, we gonna go watch MSI perform I think, we'll just be sitting around out there when you're feeling better." Mikey forced a smile back and Gerard looked away awkwardly. It was clear his brother wanted to say something, but he didn't, which relieved Gerard to no end, because all he wanted to do was sleep and rest up.
With one last pat on Gerard's shoulder, Mikey was out of eye site and it wasn't long before he heard the band shut the bus door behind them as they left. Alone at last, it didn't take him long before he drifted off into a slightly restless sleep.
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Gerard hated sleeping during the day, because it meant you woke up to the sun just starting to go down and it always felt so bizarre; even more so when you were so hung over. It was a feeling he didn't particularly like, the one thing he hated, was feeling like a patient, feeling like he was sick or needed taking care of. Sleeping during the day and waking up feeling groggy at sunset, when he was usually at his most rowdiest, made him feel like someone who was extremely ill and he hated it. He sat up, his head pounding and his mouth very dry, and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
The tour van was still extremely quiet which told him that everyone was still out and about doing whatever it was they had decided to do. Getting up, he stretched his body and began making himself a much needed cup of coffee. He still felt a little off, drowsy for sure and his mouth still tasted like vomit ... it was disgusting. Then he remembered Mikey's concerned face and Bob and Ray's surprised faces at him turning up late and in a state which told them all he had clearly had a big night partying. Then there was Frank. What would he say to him about what he had seen in his pocket?
Then he remembered, the stash in his pocket! Not wanting to risk anyone else seeing it, he quickly pulled it out and hid it away in the very bottom of his bag. No one would go through it, his clothes always smelt which meant whoever searched through his bag would have to deal with the smell and none of them could, no matter how much they were used to it.
He sipped enthusiastically at his coffee whilst he tried to plan his next move. The sooner he got out off the bus, the better, he was already sick of it, having only slept in it for a few hours ... he would go for a walk, the air would do him good, see what was happening outside.
Finishing his coffee, he decided to change his clothes as he had been wearing the same ones for at least two days now. It was all he could do to make himself feel cleaner, especially considering there wasn't much chance of a shower. He felt better now, fresher and it made it a lot easier to step outside into the cool, late afternoon air. The nights were definitely getting cooler, Gerard used to love parties in winter, the alcohol and drunken movements would always keep him warm. It was the one time when he really got nostalgic for it all.
As he walked amongst the usual crowd of drinking band's he thought about where he was going to go. If he went back to see Mikey, Frank, Ray and Bob, he would have to deal with their very mundane, "how you feeling?" type questions ... he wasn't really in the mood. He didn't want to have to briskly answer them and then spend the rest of the time wondering when Frank was going to privately approach him.
Instead he headed for the one place he felt like going, the one place he knew no one would judge him or ask stupid questions. The Used's tour bus. The lights were already on and there was already music and Bert's drunken screams bellowing out the open window.
Gerard didn't need to knock, the door was never locked and Bert would be in no state to care, even if he had walked in on him butt naked with some chick; he never cared about anything like that. So he opened the door and walked straight in, announcing himself to the crowded bus. It wasn't much of a party when there was only about fifteen people crammed into a touring bus, but it was better then awkwardly making conversation with his band mates. He was immediately greeted by hand shakes, hugs and pats on the back and before he even reached Bert, who was at the CD player trying to select a song, he had been offered at least ten drinks.
"GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Bert cried out happily in a sing-song voice as he jumped on Gerard, spilling his drink all over his back. "You don't even have a fucking drink yet! What's wrong with you people, get this man a drink!"
Not quite having the patience to explain to Bert that he had already been offered plenty, he simply took the offered beer and started drinking. Even though he had been so sick that morning, he was feeling a hell of a lot better now, and the beer was simply so refreshingly good that he downed it in seconds and accepted his second one far more eagerly.
"Gee, we got to stop running into each other like this," Bert's unusual friend Peter announced as he squeezed past Bert's drummer and a member of 'The Academy Is ..." to get to him. It was clear that he was already fairly drunk and by the vacant yet happy expression on his face, Gerard assumed he was into the drugs already as well. It also didn't go unnoticed that he was already calling him 'Gee', for some reason, Gerard felt he really didn't have the right just yet, they weren't that good of friends.
"Okay ... alright you mother fuckers, move this shit outside, you're all stepping on my stuff," Quinn announced, waving his hands, each with a drink in them, around crazily signaling people to clear out. Everyone was so out of it they simply did what the yelling man was telling them to do, moving the cases of beer and the party outside onto the grass.
"Here Gee," Quinn said more calmly now, turning to Gerard and handing him a joint. He took it from the guitar player and lit up, puffing happily, far more used to the strong flavour now.
"You got anything stronger man?" Gerard asked Bert, waving his second empty beer bottle around, he was feeling much more relaxed now and as they didn't have to perform till very late tomorrow, he had no reason to stay on the weaker drinks.
"That's what I like to hear!" Bert laughed as he began rustling through some plastic bags he had stashed in one of the bus' cupboards. Finding what he was after, Bert re-surfaced, his arms loaded with four bottles of Jack Daniels, his favourite, as Gerard always remembered. He placed two on the kitchen bench for everyone, kept one for himself and handed Gerard his own bottle. "This shit is much better."
As Gerard opened the bottle and skulled as much of the burning liquid he could take in one go, he felt himself becoming fantastically light headed. This was much better. This was what he loved ... the relaxation and detachment of drinking with Bert.
He honestly wasn't sure how long he was standing around with them for, it felt like only a few minutes went by as they all stood around drinking whilst Bert tried to play them new songs he had found. They had been listening to the beat, singing along and jumping around without any thoughts of anything really and Gerard didn't even notice that he was quite drunk until he lost his footing and stumbled into the bunks.
"Steady there," Quinn laughed as he to stumbled backwards into one of the buses walls.
"Steady there yourself," Gerard laughed back. "I'm gonna see who else showed up." With that, he stumbled towards the exit of the bus and tried to concentrate on going down the steep stairs slowly so that he wouldn't fall.
"Hurry up old lady," Bert shouted a warning as he pushed all of his weight against Gerard's back causing him to fall down the steps and straight onto his face on the grass. Bert, who had all his body weight on him, followed closely behind and landed on top of Gerard with a hysterical laugh.
"Fuck you," Gerard mumbled into the grass as Bert didn't make any effort to roll off him and ease his suffering. That was going to hurt in the morning!
Gerard was just getting over the impact when suddenly another weight attacked him and he felt a body land next to his head. Quinn was now giggling into the grass after he had clearly jumped on the pile, obviously thinking it would be fun. If Gerard hadn't have been so drunk he would have complained, instead he simply laughed off the pain he knew he was probably feeling and accepted Bert's help to get back onto his feet.
There was now a massive crowd of people all standing around, drinking booze and smoking pot. It was amazing how quickly Bert's parties received attention. It was just another party after all, but somehow he always seemed to manage to have the largest group of people just showing up out of nowhere.
"So this is where you've been?" Gerard heard a familiar voice call out through the sounds of drunken people enjoying themselves far too much.
Gerard turned around and found himself thoroughly thrilled to see his short friend. "Frank!" he shouted happily as he hugged his band mate fondly.
All thoughts of what he might say about his discovered stash were completely forgotten at the sight of him. One of his fellow band mates was at the party! He was so proud he just wanted to show him off to everyone.
"No fucking way! Frank Iero? How the hell are you?" Bert shouted above the noise as Gerard felt himself being pushed aside as the The Used front man embraced the My Chemical Romance guitar player.
"Great man! We thought we'd better come and check out the party of the century," Frank responded, gesturing to Bob who was trapped in awkward conversation with a very drunk female who was falling all over him.
"Ray and Mikey here?" Gerard asked, hoping he would see the face of his little brother somewhere nearby.
"Na, they had something geeky to do," Frank said with a laugh as he patted Gerard on the shoulder to make him realise he should stop looking for the two missing band members.
"You need a drink ... that's what you need," Bert announced as though he suddenly realised what was missing.
"Sure, love one," Frank grinned, surprising Gerard slightly. He didn't look at him when he had accepted but Gerard had an odd feeling in his stomach. It was excitement; his drunken mind recognised it now. Frank was going to have a drink with him, that was exciting! They hadn't done that in a very long while.
Bert handed Frank a beer. Bob joined them soon after looking very flustered and soon found a beer of his own in his hand as well. "Cheers," Bert said happily as they all clinked their glasses together. Gerard raised his half empty bottle of Jack Daniels and smashed it into the others probably a little rougher than was necessary.
"Easy mate," Bob said. "You almost spilt my beer."
Gerard had to admit that this was fun; this is what he loved doing. Now, with Frank and Bob here, he felt strangely content with everything and everyone around him. It didn't take very long before the whole bottle of Jack Daniels was simply gone and Gerard was left feeling slightly unbalanced and disappointed at the absence of a drink in his hand. He knew he was drunk, he was speaking loudly, slurring, making no sense and he couldn't remember what the last thing he did had been. Yet, he didn't feel drunk enough, he could handle more, he had forgotten how much he was actually capable of drinking.
Frank, being smaller then Bob, was now pretty drunk on his own and he was warming up to a lot of people and talking loudly to people Gerard had never even seen before. Bob, probably fairly tipsy now, had returned to the drunken girl that had been chatting him up earlier and was now doing some slurred fast talking of his own looking far more confident.
"Keep a close eye on little Franky, Gee," Quinn whispered loudly in his ear as he swayed on the spot. "That guy he's talking to is in a band who is extremely desperate for a guitar player, they tried to con me in leaving Bert and joining them yesterday."
Quinn hiccoughed loudly as he pulled two joints out of his pocket, stuck them in his mouth and lit them both up. He gave one to Gerard and walked back over to Bert who was dancing the waltz with Peter. He puffed on the joint for a few moments watching the man that Frank was speaking to very closely. He almost laughed at himself, watching this guy so seriously as though he was in some sort of cop show, it was funny what his drunken mind could make him do ... but it wasn't funny that this man was trying to steal his guitarist. He knew Frank would never leave them, but he was drunk and he didn't like what he saw.
"Excuse me ... Gerard Way," Gerard said as he pushed his way into the conversation and held out his hand for the larger man to shake. Now that he was standing next to Frank and in front of this guy, he realised just how huge he really was. He was about a foot taller then Gerard was and his body was fully covered in tattoos and piercings. He looked tough.
"Adrien Wallis," the larger man announced, grabbing Gerard’s hand with a grip that told him he was much stronger then he was.
Frank wasn't stupid, Gerard could see he knew what he was up to and the small guitarist actually laughed at the fact that Gerard was trying to size up this WWF worthy man. But Gerard wasn't going to back down, he had walked over there with a point to prove and he was going to prove it.
"See ... the problem is that Franky here is actually mine. He belongs to me and I don't like sharing. So whatever deal you were trying to make with him, he's not interested. Are you?" Gerard broke his fierce conversation to glance at Frank. What if Frank had thought the offer was much better? What if he was interested? Frank put on the most serious face he could manage even though he clearly wanted to piss himself laughing.
"No, Gee. I'm definitely all yours," he said shaking his head at the larger man.
Adrien crossed his arms and watched Gerard closely. Was he laughing as well? Gerard couldn't tell, but that only made him madder. How dare this guy try and take his Frank away from him.
"You see! He's not interested, he's happy and I would like you to refrain from speaking to him about this matter ever again. Franky is the property of Gerard fucking Way and don't you forget it!" And with that, Gerard stuck his finger up at Adrien, grabbed Frank and walked away feeling very pleased with himself.
They made it back over to Bert and Peter who had now moved on to doing the Macarena when Frank burst out laughing. "I appreciate the gesture Gee, but Adrien is actually an old friend of mine and we were just catching up on old times. I don't even know what the fuck you were talking about."
Quinn laughed so hard he fell onto the grass. Bert stopped dancing and clutched at his sides painfully as he to couldn't stop himself from laughing hysterically. "Oh Gee, that was to easy!"
"I hate you so much," Gerard announced as it finally clicked that the whole thing had been a joke. Adrien had never really been interested in stealing Frank from him, it was all just a joke to get him to make an ass of himself in front of some stranger.
"He probably thinks we're dating," Frank laughed. "'Franky is the property of Gerard fucking Way' oh man! That was priceless."
Gerard actually found himself laughing along with everyone else now, but he still felt like a bit of an idiot and his head was spinning as the last batch of pot he smoked seemed to be mixing badly with the alcohol.
That was when he noticed, or was it just that he was so drunk, but Peter seemed to be watching the group with a look of that of anger on his face. He was a lot quieter now and he was watching Frank with an air of great dislike, it made Gerard very uneasy, but that was how he was now starting to get to know Peter, as the guy who always looked unreadably moody.
Still, he continued to watch Frank as though he would like nothing more then to have him leave the party for good. The bitterness seemed to only intensify as Bert gave Frank a piggy-back over to the drinks because he stated he was too exhausted from laughing to walk. Was he jealous of the attention Frank was getting? That certainly seemed to be the first thought that jumped into Gerard’s head. But as Frank and Bert disappeared so did the look on Peters face, Gerard had probably just imagined the whole thing.
"Hey Gee; I got some more of that good shit inside ... want some?" Peter asked as he downed the last of his paper cup full of Jack Daniels.
Now it was Quinn's turn to give a funny look. It seemed that Bert's guitarist had been watching Peter with the same dislike that Peter had shown towards Frank. But Gerard liked Quinn and knew him a lot better and seemed to think that his look of hatred was coming from a much different place. Gerard was drunk, he was being absolutely ridiculous, his mind was playing tricks, there was no weird looks and he was just being silly.
"Love some," Gerard found himself admitting, shaking the thoughts from his head as he drunkenly followed Peter back into the bus, stumbling through the crowd, every face a blur as he didn't give his eyes time to focus.
Peter messed around in the kitchen as Gerard headed straight to the toilet to relieve his bladder. The moment he came out, Peter already had a line of cocaine set up for Gerard. Drunkenly inhaling the white powder, Gerard felt that familiar kick that he had missed so badly over the years.
"Feel better now?" Peter asked, his arm around Gerard as he laughed loudly.
"Oh fuck yeah," Gerard admitted. Peter had already set up another line for him to take and even though Gerard was drunk, he thought that it was a bit much. Still, it was there and he didn't want to refuse, so he snorted the second line just as quickly as he had the first.
"Hey!" Gerard spun around as Bert entered the door, tripping slightly on the top step. "Where's mine?"
Gerard found himself quickly moving out of Bert's way as he stumbled towards the nearest bed, his head spinning like crazy. Maybe he had over done it a bit. He laughed as his body collapsed on the bed, man it felt good to lie down. But he didn't want to ... he was on his feet again, he wanted to keep partying. No ... he definitely liked lying down better, so he flopped back onto the bed again and giggled into the blanket at how silly he must have just looked.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Bert laughed as he joined him on the small bed, pushing a beer into his hand. Gerard cracked it open and drank it awkwardly as some spilt onto the bed.
"I'm wetting the bed," he said, causing Bert to snort into his drink.
"That's okay ... it's my bed, I wet it all the time."
It was Gerard’s turn to laugh, a high pitched laugh that definitely didn't sound like him. He was so content though, so happy with everything. It had been a good night and he wanted to continue it, but for some reason he couldn't quite find the strength to get up, he couldn't really feel his body.
"Who wants another line?" Peter called from the kitchen, man that guy never stopped.
"Oh I do," Bert announced loudly from Gerard's side, he disappeared from the bed and Gerard found himself feeling slightly lost. Without the person lying next to him, he didn't quite know where he was and he felt like he was in an open area that was suddenly very dangerous, the bed was the only safe place, but where was everyone else? Why was he on his own?
"Gee ... what ya doin'?" Bert questioned, giggling, as he arrived back in his level of site. Gerard realised that he was gripping hold of the bed tightly as though he was going to fall off and be swallowed by the floor.
"I don't want the things on the floor to eat me," he said very seriously.
Bert let out a yelp and leapt onto the bed, tucking his feet up high. "I think one bit off my leg," he shouted, very serious now to, as he gripped onto Gerard tightly.
"Shit!" Gerard said, sitting up and trying to inspect Bert's legs. "One ... two ... nope, they're both still there."
"What the fuck?" Peter asked looking completely and utterly confused.
Bert and Gerard looked at each other as smiles played across their faces and they broke into hysterical laughter once again. Bert kept going, but Gerard’s was cut short as he realised he didn't feel so good. He quickly skulled the rest of his beer hoping the feeling would go away, it sort of did.
"One more for good measures I think," Bert said to Peter as the two of them disappeared into the kitchen again. Gerard waved them away as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and watched his knees, trying to focus on something to keep his spinning brain still.
"Just using your toilet," came a voice from the door, the person actually knocked as they entered to, they were definitely not a regular.
"Hey Frank, you want some of this shit?" Gerard looked up to see Frank standing in the bus doorway looking quite surprised at what was going on in the kitchen.
"Ah ... no thanks. It's not really my thing," he admitted as Peter seemed to mutter something under his breath. Gerard noticed that his small friend was watching whatever was going on in the kitchen and then looking to Gerard, he looked quite worried. He made a direct line for Gerard and ruffled his hair gently.
"You feeling alright Gee?" he asked sounding concerned.
"Yeah ... I'm just making sure the guys on the floor don't get me," he laughed as he felt his body sway from side to side, he just couldn't seem to get himself centered.
"Alright, well I think you and me had better go before they attack," Frank said, playing along with Gerard’s game in an attempt to get him to leave. It wasn't such a bad idea; he wasn't feeling so great anymore.
Frank helped get Gerard to his feet and helped him steady himself but he still felt completely off and before he even knew what was happening, Gerard spewed onto the floor of Bert's bus. His head spun and for a moment he wasn't even sure if it was really him that had done it or not, then when he heard Bert's laughter and felt Frank's hand on his back he knew it had been.
"And first to pike out again is Gee!" Bert clapped a little too happily considering he now had spew in his bus. "Don' worry bout it, if it wasn't you it would be me."
With that, Gerard felt himself being led off awkwardly down the steps and back out amongst the large group of people where he found one face he recognised making out with an attractive girl.
"You the man Bob," Gerard shouted loudly as Bob stopped making out and looked up in complete and utter shock.
"Gee's been sick, I'm taking him back," Frank announced from beside Gerard, he was still supporting him and he still sounded slightly grave.
"Okay ... um, I'll come with you," Bob said, rubbing the back of his head nervously as he got up and took a strong hold on Gerard. Unlike it had been when Frank was supporting him, with Bob it felt like he was practically carrying him. His grip was a lot firmer and he was dragging him along so fast Gerard wasn't sure if he was even keeping up on his own.
"You didn't introduce me," Gerard said sadly as they made it all the way through the crowd and back towards their own bus. It was nice to be away from all those people, especially when he didn't feel well. "I'm gonna puke again," he warned as a strange sensation arose in his stomach.
Sure enough, his body gave a strange heave and he vomited again. Bob didn't let go of him which was a good thing because Gerard almost fell over from the effort it caused his body. He was completely warn out now and all he wanted to do was go to sleep, he didn't even realise where they were until there was light in his eyes again and Ray and Mikey were staring at him in concern.
"I thought you went there to keep an eye on him?" Mikey questioned, sounding more surprised then anything at the state they had all walked through the door in. Gerard was moaning loudly, he didn't feel real good and he knew he was going to be sick again, but he didn't want to be, because he just wanted to go to sleep.
"I dunno what happened, he was only gone for a minute or two, he just got sick," Bob slurred slightly as he led Gerard to his bed, where he gratefully collapsed onto it. Frank was quiet as he took Gerard’s shoes and socks off and had to wrestle the blanket out from underneath him to place it over his now shaking body. Gerard could tell Frank was drunk, it was odd, but rather then loose control and do stupid things; he always turned into the motherly type when he was wasted. Gerard never understood it, it was just something that Frank did.
"Night, night," Gerard mumbled into his pillow as his breathing increased again as he struggled to keep that sick feeling from returning to his throat. Eventually it settled and even though his friends were having a rather loud discussion about him, Gerard finally found comfort enough to fall asleep after another big day.
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end
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AN: Thanks for the reviews. It's nice to know I have readers. Ha ha. This one is a little longer, hope you enjoy it. This is a little calm and fun before the storm after this one it gets a little angsty and depressing ... moving if you want to call it that, depressingly so, ha ha. Hope the Ferard was alright, I'm not good at writing male on male, he he. But it's light and funny.
Next chappy gets a little darker and might be offensive to some, but I will have appropriate warnings up. Hope everyone had a good weekend ;)
xxPadfootxx
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Chapter Four
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"Wake up sleepy head!"
Gerard groaned as consciousness came back to him and he became very aware of the horrible pounding in his head. Cautiously, he opened up his eyes, only to be greeted by harsh daylight that felt like it was burning a permanent mark into them.
"Turn that shit out," he mumbled drowsily as he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the natural light.
"Man, you're such a light-weight," Bert laughed from his bunk as he threw a jacket at Gerard, he realised it was his own jacket; he must have taken it off during the night.
He wearily put his jacket back on, taking a lot longer then was normal; his body just didn't seem to want to work properly. Too much alcohol. Had he really drank as much as he thought he had? He remembered going back to Bert's and joining the others, they were already pretty out of it and he had wanted to catch up. Man was the band going to be pissed if they ever found out, especially when he had done a line of cocaine in their own bus. Then he remembered ... The band!
"Fuck! What time is it?" he asked loudly as he was suddenly very awake and in search of his shoes.
"Erm ..." Bert looked all around him, including under his blankets, but when he couldn't find anything that had the time, he threw his pillow at a sleeping Quinn.
"Wha-tha-fuck?" Quinn mumbled as he jolted awake.
"Morning sunshine! You got the time over there?" Bert laughed as Quinn tucked the thrown pillow under his head with his own and tried to go back to sleep.
"You seriously woke me for that?"
"Uh ... yeah!"
Quinn rubbed his bloodshot eyes as he reached under his pile of pillows and pulled out his phone. Gerard pulled on his shoes as he waited impatiently for the time.
"Ten, fourty five," Quinn announced, letting his head fall back onto the pillow and shutting his eyes.
"SHIT!" Gerard shouted as he hoisted himself to his feet. They were going to go on stage in fifteen minutes and he hadn't even warmed up yet! "Shit, shit, shit!"
"Aren’t you supposed to be on stage soon?" Bert asked with the hint of a laugh, but Gerard was already out the door. He swore again and then took off at a run towards the stage.
There were a few late arrivals still lingering outside the fenced area, but most fans and what not would be at the main arena already, listening to the bands that had been playing for a little over an hour now. But when My Chemical Romance would be called out, well he knew the band would be crapping themselves. This in mind, he picked up the pace and turned his run into an all out sprint.
He had smoked to much last night, that was for sure, he was dangerously out of breath by the time he got even close to back stage, now all he had to do was find the band and hope he had at least a few minutes to do some vocal exercises.
"Gerard ... what the fuck?" someone called out as he hurriedly walked towards the room he knew his band would be in. He came to a sudden stop as he recognised the voice.
"Bob! Man, I'm sorry. I over slept and Bert didn't wake me," he said through deep breaths, he really had to stop smoking if he was going to continue running like this.
"Dude, where have you been? We were about to cancel!" Bob looked utterly stunned to actually see Gerard and he looked him up and down as though he was unsure whether he was really there or not.
"I was tired, I fell asleep at Bert's ... he didn't wake me, but I'm here now. How much time we got?"
"About five ... Man, I swear, you're pushing it." Bob didn't look angry, that wasn't really his thing. He simply looked frustrated at Gerard’s very late entrance, still, he was there and that was something. So he followed Bob back to the room where the rest of the band was looking very anxious.
"It's about fucking time!" Frank exclaimed with relief written all over his face. Mikey had been sitting on the lounge taking deep breaths, he never dealt with stress well, but he had stood up the moment he had heard Frank's words.
"Man, Gerard, we thought you'd forgotten," Mikey announced joining Frank in letting out a very big sigh of relief. Fans hated it when you cancelled a performance, even if it was just for one day and a measly three songs.
Gerard quickly explained once again where he had been but didn't go into any detail about what he had got up to last night. They didn't need to know, even though they looked at him suspiciously when he told his rather rushed story. Still, there was no time to linger on it or ask questions, which he was grateful for, because as they could hear the excited voices of the last band walking past their door, they knew it was time to go on.
Following closely behind Frank, who took the lead today, they all walked onto the stage to a procession of loud cheers and clapping as thousands of fans waved or threw their fists in the air for them. It didn't bother Gerard that he hadn't warmed up, he was to busy noticing just how sick he felt. He had been so caught up in getting here on time that he had jolted awake and run out the door without even noticing how he actually felt ... awful.
Stepping up to the mic he screamed words of encouragement to the crowd, he wanted their hands in the air and they put their hands in the air. It was time for a song, an old one and as Frank, Mikey, Ray and Bob started playing, he broke into the lyrics of 'You know what they do to guys like us in prison.' As the crowd roared louder then he could sing and the instruments drowned out any good notes that he hit, it didn't really matter that he didn't sound as good as he usually did, because no one really cared. They just wanted to sing along to the lyrics, they just wanted to run at each other and jump around and scream; so long as you played anything that sounded similar to the song you had promised, they would be happy.
The sickly feeling was rising and Gerard found himself not talking to the crowd nearly as much as he usually did, the less he opened his mouth the better, because he felt like he was going to be sick. Man, he must have had way too much to drink last night; just so long as he made it through the performance it would be fine. Luckily they had agreed on what songs they would play for each of the days they performed and today, it was all of their old stuff, which suited him fine, because he didn't even have to think about the lyrics.
Next they sung 'Helena' and after that was their final song. Just three songs, but it felt like a lifetime for Gerard, who was now feeling extremely exhausted and unwell. 'I'm not okay', eerily fitting for his current state of well-being.
As they neared the end of the song, Frank approached him like he usually did. To jump on him maybe, tackle him on stage, push his head into him, wrestle him for the mic, whatever it was that he was planning. Gerard was now feeling so under the weather that he was seriously struggling not to throw up all over the stage. As Frank played closer and closer he moved away, not wanting him to attack him and cause his concentration at keeping his stomach down to fail.
He reached Gerard and nudged his rib cage roughly with his head as he played his guitar vigorously. For such a small guy, he was strong, especially when he put all his body weight into you and Gerard struggled to get out all of the final lyrics as his heart rate increased and his breathing became heavier as his stomach rose higher and higher. The moment the song was over, he gave the crowd a quick wave and ran off the stage. He only just made it behind the curtain and out of site before he threw up in one of back stage’s dark corners.
"You okay Gee?" Mikey asked as he ran up behind him and rubbed his back gently. Gerard leant his head against the wall he had spewed near, bracing himself because he could feel it going to happen again.
"Yeah ... ran to much," he said, trying to laugh so that they wouldn't get suspicious and know he had been up all night drinking. They weren't that stupid.
"Too much to drink last night?" Frank asked, but Gerard knew he wasn't really asking, he already knew the answer.
Gerard just groaned into the wall as he tried concentrating all his efforts on breathing deeply so he wouldn't be sick again. It didn't work, his body tensed and then he threw up once more. Whilst Frank may have been a little pissed off at Gerard's current state and turning up far to late to their performance, he always pulled through for him when he was sick like this and he joined Mikey in trying to calm him down enough to stop being sick. The two of them helping him stand straight and steady his breathing helped and Gerard felt he could actually try and make it back to their bus without throwing up again.
He felt a little bad at having not performed to his best on stage, so even though he still felt pretty ill, he stayed for at least a half hour at the fence signing autographs and shaking peoples hands, not an easy thing to do through the tours fences. Naturally, he was slightly distracted by the deepest desire to simply sleep off his hang-over and that was probably why he did the stupidest thing he could possibly do.
When they made it back to their tour bus, he had already decided that he would try and get a few more hours sleep before attempting to do anything, even go get coffee. So whilst the rest of the band discussed which bands they wanted to see perform and what else they were going to do with their day, Gerard took off his shoes and removed his jacket again. That was when, on auto-pilot, he went to remove the uncomfortable lump that was in his pocket. He couldn't for the life of him remember what it was, so he reached in and pulled it out, only to shove it straight back in again, his heart beating very fast. It was the cocaine Bert had given him and he hoped to god that no one had seen.
He was almost too nervous to turn around and look at his friends, who stood right behind him, but when curiosity got the better of him he did look around. Bob and Ray had their back's to him and Mikey was to busy making himself a coffee, but Frank was facing him, his arms crossed in front of his chest, seemingly in deep conversation, but Gerard knew he had seen. It was such a Frank thing to do, he wouldn't make a scene. When he had turned around, Frank had been looking at him, he knew it, but the second he made nervous eye contact, the guitar played had looked away, pretending he hadn't noticed. Heart beating faster then he liked given how unwell he felt, he simply tried to shake the memory from his head and he crawled into his bed.
"You gonna sleep?" Mikey asked, appearing at his side only moments after he put the blankets over himself.
"Yeah, just for a few hours," Gerard responded, forcing a smile so his brother didn't worry to much about him. He had been sick before, it was no big deal, but it was because he was sick from drinking that Mikey looked so concerned. It had been years since they had seen him like this after all.
"Okay, we gonna go watch MSI perform I think, we'll just be sitting around out there when you're feeling better." Mikey forced a smile back and Gerard looked away awkwardly. It was clear his brother wanted to say something, but he didn't, which relieved Gerard to no end, because all he wanted to do was sleep and rest up.
With one last pat on Gerard's shoulder, Mikey was out of eye site and it wasn't long before he heard the band shut the bus door behind them as they left. Alone at last, it didn't take him long before he drifted off into a slightly restless sleep.
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Gerard hated sleeping during the day, because it meant you woke up to the sun just starting to go down and it always felt so bizarre; even more so when you were so hung over. It was a feeling he didn't particularly like, the one thing he hated, was feeling like a patient, feeling like he was sick or needed taking care of. Sleeping during the day and waking up feeling groggy at sunset, when he was usually at his most rowdiest, made him feel like someone who was extremely ill and he hated it. He sat up, his head pounding and his mouth very dry, and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
The tour van was still extremely quiet which told him that everyone was still out and about doing whatever it was they had decided to do. Getting up, he stretched his body and began making himself a much needed cup of coffee. He still felt a little off, drowsy for sure and his mouth still tasted like vomit ... it was disgusting. Then he remembered Mikey's concerned face and Bob and Ray's surprised faces at him turning up late and in a state which told them all he had clearly had a big night partying. Then there was Frank. What would he say to him about what he had seen in his pocket?
Then he remembered, the stash in his pocket! Not wanting to risk anyone else seeing it, he quickly pulled it out and hid it away in the very bottom of his bag. No one would go through it, his clothes always smelt which meant whoever searched through his bag would have to deal with the smell and none of them could, no matter how much they were used to it.
He sipped enthusiastically at his coffee whilst he tried to plan his next move. The sooner he got out off the bus, the better, he was already sick of it, having only slept in it for a few hours ... he would go for a walk, the air would do him good, see what was happening outside.
Finishing his coffee, he decided to change his clothes as he had been wearing the same ones for at least two days now. It was all he could do to make himself feel cleaner, especially considering there wasn't much chance of a shower. He felt better now, fresher and it made it a lot easier to step outside into the cool, late afternoon air. The nights were definitely getting cooler, Gerard used to love parties in winter, the alcohol and drunken movements would always keep him warm. It was the one time when he really got nostalgic for it all.
As he walked amongst the usual crowd of drinking band's he thought about where he was going to go. If he went back to see Mikey, Frank, Ray and Bob, he would have to deal with their very mundane, "how you feeling?" type questions ... he wasn't really in the mood. He didn't want to have to briskly answer them and then spend the rest of the time wondering when Frank was going to privately approach him.
Instead he headed for the one place he felt like going, the one place he knew no one would judge him or ask stupid questions. The Used's tour bus. The lights were already on and there was already music and Bert's drunken screams bellowing out the open window.
Gerard didn't need to knock, the door was never locked and Bert would be in no state to care, even if he had walked in on him butt naked with some chick; he never cared about anything like that. So he opened the door and walked straight in, announcing himself to the crowded bus. It wasn't much of a party when there was only about fifteen people crammed into a touring bus, but it was better then awkwardly making conversation with his band mates. He was immediately greeted by hand shakes, hugs and pats on the back and before he even reached Bert, who was at the CD player trying to select a song, he had been offered at least ten drinks.
"GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Bert cried out happily in a sing-song voice as he jumped on Gerard, spilling his drink all over his back. "You don't even have a fucking drink yet! What's wrong with you people, get this man a drink!"
Not quite having the patience to explain to Bert that he had already been offered plenty, he simply took the offered beer and started drinking. Even though he had been so sick that morning, he was feeling a hell of a lot better now, and the beer was simply so refreshingly good that he downed it in seconds and accepted his second one far more eagerly.
"Gee, we got to stop running into each other like this," Bert's unusual friend Peter announced as he squeezed past Bert's drummer and a member of 'The Academy Is ..." to get to him. It was clear that he was already fairly drunk and by the vacant yet happy expression on his face, Gerard assumed he was into the drugs already as well. It also didn't go unnoticed that he was already calling him 'Gee', for some reason, Gerard felt he really didn't have the right just yet, they weren't that good of friends.
"Okay ... alright you mother fuckers, move this shit outside, you're all stepping on my stuff," Quinn announced, waving his hands, each with a drink in them, around crazily signaling people to clear out. Everyone was so out of it they simply did what the yelling man was telling them to do, moving the cases of beer and the party outside onto the grass.
"Here Gee," Quinn said more calmly now, turning to Gerard and handing him a joint. He took it from the guitar player and lit up, puffing happily, far more used to the strong flavour now.
"You got anything stronger man?" Gerard asked Bert, waving his second empty beer bottle around, he was feeling much more relaxed now and as they didn't have to perform till very late tomorrow, he had no reason to stay on the weaker drinks.
"That's what I like to hear!" Bert laughed as he began rustling through some plastic bags he had stashed in one of the bus' cupboards. Finding what he was after, Bert re-surfaced, his arms loaded with four bottles of Jack Daniels, his favourite, as Gerard always remembered. He placed two on the kitchen bench for everyone, kept one for himself and handed Gerard his own bottle. "This shit is much better."
As Gerard opened the bottle and skulled as much of the burning liquid he could take in one go, he felt himself becoming fantastically light headed. This was much better. This was what he loved ... the relaxation and detachment of drinking with Bert.
He honestly wasn't sure how long he was standing around with them for, it felt like only a few minutes went by as they all stood around drinking whilst Bert tried to play them new songs he had found. They had been listening to the beat, singing along and jumping around without any thoughts of anything really and Gerard didn't even notice that he was quite drunk until he lost his footing and stumbled into the bunks.
"Steady there," Quinn laughed as he to stumbled backwards into one of the buses walls.
"Steady there yourself," Gerard laughed back. "I'm gonna see who else showed up." With that, he stumbled towards the exit of the bus and tried to concentrate on going down the steep stairs slowly so that he wouldn't fall.
"Hurry up old lady," Bert shouted a warning as he pushed all of his weight against Gerard's back causing him to fall down the steps and straight onto his face on the grass. Bert, who had all his body weight on him, followed closely behind and landed on top of Gerard with a hysterical laugh.
"Fuck you," Gerard mumbled into the grass as Bert didn't make any effort to roll off him and ease his suffering. That was going to hurt in the morning!
Gerard was just getting over the impact when suddenly another weight attacked him and he felt a body land next to his head. Quinn was now giggling into the grass after he had clearly jumped on the pile, obviously thinking it would be fun. If Gerard hadn't have been so drunk he would have complained, instead he simply laughed off the pain he knew he was probably feeling and accepted Bert's help to get back onto his feet.
There was now a massive crowd of people all standing around, drinking booze and smoking pot. It was amazing how quickly Bert's parties received attention. It was just another party after all, but somehow he always seemed to manage to have the largest group of people just showing up out of nowhere.
"So this is where you've been?" Gerard heard a familiar voice call out through the sounds of drunken people enjoying themselves far too much.
Gerard turned around and found himself thoroughly thrilled to see his short friend. "Frank!" he shouted happily as he hugged his band mate fondly.
All thoughts of what he might say about his discovered stash were completely forgotten at the sight of him. One of his fellow band mates was at the party! He was so proud he just wanted to show him off to everyone.
"No fucking way! Frank Iero? How the hell are you?" Bert shouted above the noise as Gerard felt himself being pushed aside as the The Used front man embraced the My Chemical Romance guitar player.
"Great man! We thought we'd better come and check out the party of the century," Frank responded, gesturing to Bob who was trapped in awkward conversation with a very drunk female who was falling all over him.
"Ray and Mikey here?" Gerard asked, hoping he would see the face of his little brother somewhere nearby.
"Na, they had something geeky to do," Frank said with a laugh as he patted Gerard on the shoulder to make him realise he should stop looking for the two missing band members.
"You need a drink ... that's what you need," Bert announced as though he suddenly realised what was missing.
"Sure, love one," Frank grinned, surprising Gerard slightly. He didn't look at him when he had accepted but Gerard had an odd feeling in his stomach. It was excitement; his drunken mind recognised it now. Frank was going to have a drink with him, that was exciting! They hadn't done that in a very long while.
Bert handed Frank a beer. Bob joined them soon after looking very flustered and soon found a beer of his own in his hand as well. "Cheers," Bert said happily as they all clinked their glasses together. Gerard raised his half empty bottle of Jack Daniels and smashed it into the others probably a little rougher than was necessary.
"Easy mate," Bob said. "You almost spilt my beer."
Gerard had to admit that this was fun; this is what he loved doing. Now, with Frank and Bob here, he felt strangely content with everything and everyone around him. It didn't take very long before the whole bottle of Jack Daniels was simply gone and Gerard was left feeling slightly unbalanced and disappointed at the absence of a drink in his hand. He knew he was drunk, he was speaking loudly, slurring, making no sense and he couldn't remember what the last thing he did had been. Yet, he didn't feel drunk enough, he could handle more, he had forgotten how much he was actually capable of drinking.
Frank, being smaller then Bob, was now pretty drunk on his own and he was warming up to a lot of people and talking loudly to people Gerard had never even seen before. Bob, probably fairly tipsy now, had returned to the drunken girl that had been chatting him up earlier and was now doing some slurred fast talking of his own looking far more confident.
"Keep a close eye on little Franky, Gee," Quinn whispered loudly in his ear as he swayed on the spot. "That guy he's talking to is in a band who is extremely desperate for a guitar player, they tried to con me in leaving Bert and joining them yesterday."
Quinn hiccoughed loudly as he pulled two joints out of his pocket, stuck them in his mouth and lit them both up. He gave one to Gerard and walked back over to Bert who was dancing the waltz with Peter. He puffed on the joint for a few moments watching the man that Frank was speaking to very closely. He almost laughed at himself, watching this guy so seriously as though he was in some sort of cop show, it was funny what his drunken mind could make him do ... but it wasn't funny that this man was trying to steal his guitarist. He knew Frank would never leave them, but he was drunk and he didn't like what he saw.
"Excuse me ... Gerard Way," Gerard said as he pushed his way into the conversation and held out his hand for the larger man to shake. Now that he was standing next to Frank and in front of this guy, he realised just how huge he really was. He was about a foot taller then Gerard was and his body was fully covered in tattoos and piercings. He looked tough.
"Adrien Wallis," the larger man announced, grabbing Gerard’s hand with a grip that told him he was much stronger then he was.
Frank wasn't stupid, Gerard could see he knew what he was up to and the small guitarist actually laughed at the fact that Gerard was trying to size up this WWF worthy man. But Gerard wasn't going to back down, he had walked over there with a point to prove and he was going to prove it.
"See ... the problem is that Franky here is actually mine. He belongs to me and I don't like sharing. So whatever deal you were trying to make with him, he's not interested. Are you?" Gerard broke his fierce conversation to glance at Frank. What if Frank had thought the offer was much better? What if he was interested? Frank put on the most serious face he could manage even though he clearly wanted to piss himself laughing.
"No, Gee. I'm definitely all yours," he said shaking his head at the larger man.
Adrien crossed his arms and watched Gerard closely. Was he laughing as well? Gerard couldn't tell, but that only made him madder. How dare this guy try and take his Frank away from him.
"You see! He's not interested, he's happy and I would like you to refrain from speaking to him about this matter ever again. Franky is the property of Gerard fucking Way and don't you forget it!" And with that, Gerard stuck his finger up at Adrien, grabbed Frank and walked away feeling very pleased with himself.
They made it back over to Bert and Peter who had now moved on to doing the Macarena when Frank burst out laughing. "I appreciate the gesture Gee, but Adrien is actually an old friend of mine and we were just catching up on old times. I don't even know what the fuck you were talking about."
Quinn laughed so hard he fell onto the grass. Bert stopped dancing and clutched at his sides painfully as he to couldn't stop himself from laughing hysterically. "Oh Gee, that was to easy!"
"I hate you so much," Gerard announced as it finally clicked that the whole thing had been a joke. Adrien had never really been interested in stealing Frank from him, it was all just a joke to get him to make an ass of himself in front of some stranger.
"He probably thinks we're dating," Frank laughed. "'Franky is the property of Gerard fucking Way' oh man! That was priceless."
Gerard actually found himself laughing along with everyone else now, but he still felt like a bit of an idiot and his head was spinning as the last batch of pot he smoked seemed to be mixing badly with the alcohol.
That was when he noticed, or was it just that he was so drunk, but Peter seemed to be watching the group with a look of that of anger on his face. He was a lot quieter now and he was watching Frank with an air of great dislike, it made Gerard very uneasy, but that was how he was now starting to get to know Peter, as the guy who always looked unreadably moody.
Still, he continued to watch Frank as though he would like nothing more then to have him leave the party for good. The bitterness seemed to only intensify as Bert gave Frank a piggy-back over to the drinks because he stated he was too exhausted from laughing to walk. Was he jealous of the attention Frank was getting? That certainly seemed to be the first thought that jumped into Gerard’s head. But as Frank and Bert disappeared so did the look on Peters face, Gerard had probably just imagined the whole thing.
"Hey Gee; I got some more of that good shit inside ... want some?" Peter asked as he downed the last of his paper cup full of Jack Daniels.
Now it was Quinn's turn to give a funny look. It seemed that Bert's guitarist had been watching Peter with the same dislike that Peter had shown towards Frank. But Gerard liked Quinn and knew him a lot better and seemed to think that his look of hatred was coming from a much different place. Gerard was drunk, he was being absolutely ridiculous, his mind was playing tricks, there was no weird looks and he was just being silly.
"Love some," Gerard found himself admitting, shaking the thoughts from his head as he drunkenly followed Peter back into the bus, stumbling through the crowd, every face a blur as he didn't give his eyes time to focus.
Peter messed around in the kitchen as Gerard headed straight to the toilet to relieve his bladder. The moment he came out, Peter already had a line of cocaine set up for Gerard. Drunkenly inhaling the white powder, Gerard felt that familiar kick that he had missed so badly over the years.
"Feel better now?" Peter asked, his arm around Gerard as he laughed loudly.
"Oh fuck yeah," Gerard admitted. Peter had already set up another line for him to take and even though Gerard was drunk, he thought that it was a bit much. Still, it was there and he didn't want to refuse, so he snorted the second line just as quickly as he had the first.
"Hey!" Gerard spun around as Bert entered the door, tripping slightly on the top step. "Where's mine?"
Gerard found himself quickly moving out of Bert's way as he stumbled towards the nearest bed, his head spinning like crazy. Maybe he had over done it a bit. He laughed as his body collapsed on the bed, man it felt good to lie down. But he didn't want to ... he was on his feet again, he wanted to keep partying. No ... he definitely liked lying down better, so he flopped back onto the bed again and giggled into the blanket at how silly he must have just looked.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Bert laughed as he joined him on the small bed, pushing a beer into his hand. Gerard cracked it open and drank it awkwardly as some spilt onto the bed.
"I'm wetting the bed," he said, causing Bert to snort into his drink.
"That's okay ... it's my bed, I wet it all the time."
It was Gerard’s turn to laugh, a high pitched laugh that definitely didn't sound like him. He was so content though, so happy with everything. It had been a good night and he wanted to continue it, but for some reason he couldn't quite find the strength to get up, he couldn't really feel his body.
"Who wants another line?" Peter called from the kitchen, man that guy never stopped.
"Oh I do," Bert announced loudly from Gerard's side, he disappeared from the bed and Gerard found himself feeling slightly lost. Without the person lying next to him, he didn't quite know where he was and he felt like he was in an open area that was suddenly very dangerous, the bed was the only safe place, but where was everyone else? Why was he on his own?
"Gee ... what ya doin'?" Bert questioned, giggling, as he arrived back in his level of site. Gerard realised that he was gripping hold of the bed tightly as though he was going to fall off and be swallowed by the floor.
"I don't want the things on the floor to eat me," he said very seriously.
Bert let out a yelp and leapt onto the bed, tucking his feet up high. "I think one bit off my leg," he shouted, very serious now to, as he gripped onto Gerard tightly.
"Shit!" Gerard said, sitting up and trying to inspect Bert's legs. "One ... two ... nope, they're both still there."
"What the fuck?" Peter asked looking completely and utterly confused.
Bert and Gerard looked at each other as smiles played across their faces and they broke into hysterical laughter once again. Bert kept going, but Gerard’s was cut short as he realised he didn't feel so good. He quickly skulled the rest of his beer hoping the feeling would go away, it sort of did.
"One more for good measures I think," Bert said to Peter as the two of them disappeared into the kitchen again. Gerard waved them away as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and watched his knees, trying to focus on something to keep his spinning brain still.
"Just using your toilet," came a voice from the door, the person actually knocked as they entered to, they were definitely not a regular.
"Hey Frank, you want some of this shit?" Gerard looked up to see Frank standing in the bus doorway looking quite surprised at what was going on in the kitchen.
"Ah ... no thanks. It's not really my thing," he admitted as Peter seemed to mutter something under his breath. Gerard noticed that his small friend was watching whatever was going on in the kitchen and then looking to Gerard, he looked quite worried. He made a direct line for Gerard and ruffled his hair gently.
"You feeling alright Gee?" he asked sounding concerned.
"Yeah ... I'm just making sure the guys on the floor don't get me," he laughed as he felt his body sway from side to side, he just couldn't seem to get himself centered.
"Alright, well I think you and me had better go before they attack," Frank said, playing along with Gerard’s game in an attempt to get him to leave. It wasn't such a bad idea; he wasn't feeling so great anymore.
Frank helped get Gerard to his feet and helped him steady himself but he still felt completely off and before he even knew what was happening, Gerard spewed onto the floor of Bert's bus. His head spun and for a moment he wasn't even sure if it was really him that had done it or not, then when he heard Bert's laughter and felt Frank's hand on his back he knew it had been.
"And first to pike out again is Gee!" Bert clapped a little too happily considering he now had spew in his bus. "Don' worry bout it, if it wasn't you it would be me."
With that, Gerard felt himself being led off awkwardly down the steps and back out amongst the large group of people where he found one face he recognised making out with an attractive girl.
"You the man Bob," Gerard shouted loudly as Bob stopped making out and looked up in complete and utter shock.
"Gee's been sick, I'm taking him back," Frank announced from beside Gerard, he was still supporting him and he still sounded slightly grave.
"Okay ... um, I'll come with you," Bob said, rubbing the back of his head nervously as he got up and took a strong hold on Gerard. Unlike it had been when Frank was supporting him, with Bob it felt like he was practically carrying him. His grip was a lot firmer and he was dragging him along so fast Gerard wasn't sure if he was even keeping up on his own.
"You didn't introduce me," Gerard said sadly as they made it all the way through the crowd and back towards their own bus. It was nice to be away from all those people, especially when he didn't feel well. "I'm gonna puke again," he warned as a strange sensation arose in his stomach.
Sure enough, his body gave a strange heave and he vomited again. Bob didn't let go of him which was a good thing because Gerard almost fell over from the effort it caused his body. He was completely warn out now and all he wanted to do was go to sleep, he didn't even realise where they were until there was light in his eyes again and Ray and Mikey were staring at him in concern.
"I thought you went there to keep an eye on him?" Mikey questioned, sounding more surprised then anything at the state they had all walked through the door in. Gerard was moaning loudly, he didn't feel real good and he knew he was going to be sick again, but he didn't want to be, because he just wanted to go to sleep.
"I dunno what happened, he was only gone for a minute or two, he just got sick," Bob slurred slightly as he led Gerard to his bed, where he gratefully collapsed onto it. Frank was quiet as he took Gerard’s shoes and socks off and had to wrestle the blanket out from underneath him to place it over his now shaking body. Gerard could tell Frank was drunk, it was odd, but rather then loose control and do stupid things; he always turned into the motherly type when he was wasted. Gerard never understood it, it was just something that Frank did.
"Night, night," Gerard mumbled into his pillow as his breathing increased again as he struggled to keep that sick feeling from returning to his throat. Eventually it settled and even though his friends were having a rather loud discussion about him, Gerard finally found comfort enough to fall asleep after another big day.
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end
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AN: Thanks for the reviews. It's nice to know I have readers. Ha ha. This one is a little longer, hope you enjoy it. This is a little calm and fun before the storm after this one it gets a little angsty and depressing ... moving if you want to call it that, depressingly so, ha ha. Hope the Ferard was alright, I'm not good at writing male on male, he he. But it's light and funny.
Next chappy gets a little darker and might be offensive to some, but I will have appropriate warnings up. Hope everyone had a good weekend ;)
xxPadfootxx
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