Living on tour is never boring.
Okay, yeah, sometimes it is boring.
But what I mean is it's interesting. The four of us each have our own respective personalities, and living together on a bus is like throwing those personalities into a blender on puree and then voila! You have a strange blend of zany, chaotic, activity and muddled body clocks, weird smells, and a lot of coffee.
It's difficult to have very much privacy or breathing space, no matter what bus upgrade we've earned this time around. For example, when someone (Ray) falls asleep on the couch in the lounge, there is absolutely nowhere to sit unless you fancy being sardined in your bunk for the time said person is snoozing the day away.
Then there's the bathroom, which is a toxic gas chamber, especially when the catering menu offers Mexican food. I swear it needs to be fumigated before I will ever go in there other than to take an emergency shower
The moaning has got to stop.
That is, word for word, what Frank thought as he strummed the chords for their bands newest song. Had anyone been looking at him and not the moaning vocalist, they would have seen that he had rolled his eyes somewhere between three and five times, shook his head in disapproval between four and six times, and, for around twenty-five seconds, had not taken his gaze off of Gerard.
There was no moaning in this song. Frank knew. He had helped write the lyrics. He did not recall writing down, Do you have the key to the hotel? Because I'm g
He was this awkward, adolescent, this semi-adult. He was 'The Man in the Basement' and he embraced that label, that tag that the people in town had given him. Gerard didn't leave his house, not often, not frequently. Not on demand or by request, but only when he so felt like it. On occasion, on a very rare occasion, Gerard would wrap himself tightly in black scarves - three at the least, all different shades of charcoal, and a long black trench coat with shiny, plastic buttons, and he would stumble out of his mother's house to wander around the town or quickly make his way to the art supplies store and then back home again. Familiarity.
Gerard was not shy, cautious or modest. He simply suffered from social phobia. His entire life, Gerard was home schooled, was taught piano in his home, and never once made a
I'm naturally drawn to beauty. It's something I personally find rare enough to put on a pedestal; that anything beautiful is meant to be examined and admired.
I'm also more curious than a normal person should be. I guess it's in my genes, and that's something I can't necessarily just wash out.
The first time was an accident.
He had to have known his curtains and blinds were wide open, exposing not just a window, but a huge bay window, on the other side of which was his bedroom. It always struck me as odd of someone to require such a large window in the room where the most private things are accomplished. I didn't dwell on it, though. It wasn't the window I found interesting, anyway, but what lay beyond; within, and what I saw.
I had been walking home from my friend Bob's house. It wasn't far from my apartment at all, maybe a few blocks. I usually rode the bus because Bob complained whenever I was late, and walking meant more distractions. T
I smiled and decided to seat myself next to him. He's always funny when he's drunk. And it doesn't take much to get him drunk since he's such a light weight with it. Which is weird considering how much he actually does drink.
"Hey Gee." I said while plopping down on the stool next to him.
"Whoaaaaaaaaa...Hey Frankie baaaaaaby" He slurred putting an arm around my neck.
"Drunk I see?" I giggled.
"Pshaw, I'm completely sober." He emphasized.
"Sure you are..." I was trying to stiffle my laugh.
"Don't you sass me you...you elf."
"Elf?" I questioned.
"Yeah. You're an elf. I know because you're this big." Then he put his hand in the air showing me how tall he thought I was.
"I'm not THAT short." I said pouting playfully.
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a young pokemaster named Gerard Way-Catchemall! He was destined to capture all the poke-slasha-mon in the world! But there was only one problem: his rival, Frank Iero-YouteachmeandIllteachyou! Gerard had trained his pokemon far and wide, teaching them with love and pokeberries! But would he be strong enough?! Because not only did he hate Frank Iero-YouteachmeandIllteachyou, but he also loved him because of his sexiness and the way his hair gleamed in the shining reflection of a cliché fanfiction! But his parents were homophobes despite the fact that if they were they would obviously have a problem with their son randomly making out with guys on stages and having girls write sexy-time fanfictions about them! WILL HE PREVIAL?!
NEXT TIME ON: THE ADVENTURES OF POKE-SLASHA-MON!
Its been two years since Gerard Way-Catchema
"You've got a neighbor. Guy moved in next door to ya'.", said Gerard's old, generally pleasant, land-lord. Gerard looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. He hadn't had a neighbor there for months since some ancient old hag with fifty cats got evicted.
"Really? Well...when did he move in?", he asked back curiously. He wasn't really pleased to have been told this, expecting the worst, but he wasn't disappointed, either. He was more interested than anything.
The land-lord shrugged indifferently, "Today. Decent guy, 'spose."
With that, he left Gerard alone in the hallway, disappearing down the flight of stairs. Gerard bit his chapped lip and unlocked the door. He was immediately at ease across the threshold of his home and he dropped his coat on the hook near
Today, would be Valentines day.
Normally I would be spending this day moping around with my band mates and their girlfriends.
This year its different.
I have a wife, so today we will be exchanging Valentine gifts.
The strange thing is.
Its not her who I keep thinking of...Frank.
During the summer of 2007, on our tour of Projekt Rev.
Frank and I were, abnormally 'close'
Everyday something new would happen.
We kissed too much for people not to believe something was up.
Or we would do some sort of sexual, kinky move.
I know deep down I love Frank more than I should.
But when Frankie is around me, he wears his heart on his sleeve.
Lately, ever since I, well you can say "dumped" him in august near the end of Projekt Rev. and married Lyn-z, hes been depressed.
He chopped his long beautiful locks.
Doesnt shave anymore.
He wears alot of baggy clothing.
Then again, when he isn't, everyone could tell he's depressed, heartbroken, hurt..
Hes gained weight.
It saddens me to a great exte
"Iero, you do realize that you are currently dribbling all over your jeans right?"
"Huh, what, I…oh…" I quickly wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and shifted my gaze from Gerard Sexiest-Guy-on-Earth Way back to Ray and Mikey.
"Dude, you look like you pissed your pants!" Mikey snickered.
I flipped him off and wiped napkins across my lap. Ugh. Gerard Hot-as-Hell Way always had that effect on me… I usually limited my staring to when I was alone but today, I just couldn't resist. His jeans were sagging like halfway down his butt for God's sake, and the sleeveless grey shirt he was wearing was showing way too much skin! So I was trying to get a sneak a stare while eating lunch with my supposed "best friends."
But I guess I hadn't been very subtle. Ray's eyes were going back and forth between me and Gerard Impossibly-Perfect Way's table a
Hes going again! Someone from the other room announced. The first person to run in was Gerard. Frank coughed again, and gagged. All the while Gerard kept a hand on Franks back, rubbing in circles. He whispered to him, and handed him a towel when he was finished. Frank wiped his mouth and took a drink from his glass of water on the coffee table.
By now, all of his band mates surrounded him and were trying to comfort him.
Ive got to play tonight He groaned, his mouth tasting horrid.
No way! Gerard shook his head and sat down on the couch beside his sick friend. What did you eat, anyway? He asked.
He just shrugged, unable to think back to what made him sick.
Frank almost bursting into tears.
I feel so crap
Everyone patted his back and generally tried to lift spirits.
I have to play
Well, well, well. Here we are again. See, I wouldn't have to rant at all you fine people like this if you would just shut up and listen.
This is a problem that has extended past teenage boys and girls who- admittedly- are occassionally allowed to make stupid little assumptions and petty stereotypes as long as it doesn't go too far. But, of course, it goes too far. The basic point of all this being something very, very simple that many people just can't seem to grasp: My Chemical Romance is not (let's all say it now: not) "emo".
First off, "Emo" is hardly a legitimate form of music. Here is the definition, found on Wikipedia:
"Emo is a style of rock music which describes several independent variations of music with common stylistic roots...In later years, the term emocore, short for "emotional hardcore", was also used to describe the emotional performances of bands in the Washington, D.C. scene and some of the offsho
Besides for the two of us and Mikey's older brother Gerard, the Way house was empty. Mikey's parents had gone out for the night and Gerard was supposed to be "taking care" of the two of us. Fat chance with Mikey Way around.
Gerard was a little weird, no doubt about that. He never really spoke more than a few short words at a time and often in the middle of those rare words, he would just stop and stare off into space. Plus, every time I visited the Way house, he was always cooped up in his room. I had no idea what he did in there and whenever I asked Mikey, he just shrugged. I had never actually dared knock on Gerard's door to find out myself but I was willing to bet it was something all creative and artsy. At school, Gerard was always winning competitions. Whether it was for painting or for poetry, Gerard Way's name would be at the top of the list
Hey, you guys better stop, cause Moms home.
Oh shit Gerard got off of me, and through me my shirt.
Thanks Mikey, He said.
No problem. Mikey said walking back out the room.
Gerard turned back to me, Sorry, I just dont want my mom to find out
Oh, thats ok, I understand.
He scratched the back of his head. So you wanna play video games, or somethin?
Yeah ok, what other games do you have?
Um Grand Theft Auto 3, Midnight Drive, Kill Zone 1 and 2, um Raise of the Dead um Guitar Hero 2-
Oooooh Guitar Hero 2, I love that game.
Ok He sai
"Lock it? Please?"
Gerard locked the door and sat down next to Frankie, and folded his arms over his drawn knees. Something of which he was sure he had gotten from Frankie. As he looked over at the boy, he was right; Frank had pulled his knees into his chest, and folded his hands together, holding them tighter than absolutely necessary. "You did okay. But, you really don't have to stay here tonight. Ya know? Not if you don't want to," Gerard said, looking pointedly at his knees, because he didn't want to make this into some big thing.
"But I want to. It's better than being alone. You want me here, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."
One of those very awkward moments passed where both boys smiled at each other and then found it necessary to pick at the carpet between them, their fingers only almost meeting
Gerard, who sat beside him, smirked broadly and stretched as well. Headphones curled around his neck delicately, an iPod clutched in one pale hand. On his lap lay a novel, one Frank had never heard of. His eyes flickered to the title before dashing away, returning to the despairingly boring plane. Gerard rolled his eyes at his flying companion and nudged him in the side. Ya know, he said smugly, it was you who opted we go on this fucking plane, not me. You said you were sick of driving and Toro and Bryar agreed! Adding, quite com
A talk boy with shaggy dark hair, pale skin, big, scared-looking eyes and a lollipop jammed firmly in his mouth walked past our table, lunch tray in hand. He looked for a place to sit but nobody seemed to be offering.
"You think we should ask him to sit with us?" I muttered, transfixed by the way he moved the lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other without using his hands.
He caught me looking at him and smiled shyly. I looked away.
Ray groaned. "Frank! You aren't crushing on this guy are you? He's a total weirdo!"
"No " I said blushing. "And what makes you say that?"
"You're blushing, you're muttering and you've been staring at him for way longer than a normal person would. You're even staring at him right now!"
I dropped my gaze, embarrassed. "No, I mean why say he's a weirdo?" I whispered quickly.
The boy was coming closer and closer to our table and I didn't want R
Gerard was sitting on the bed, legs out, sketching in a book, the light dim. Frankie's head was resting on a pillow on Gerard's legs and he was pulling thread after thread out of his glove, eventually tearing a piece of skin off of his thumb and sucking away any of the blood that surfaced. They were quiet, because nothing needed to be said. Gerard had grown awfully comfortable with having Frankie around. Just having the kid lay on him like they were was something he was going to miss
Thats what he thinks. Monster because love is not fists and love is not this. He thinks Monster out of envy and then he thinks it out of remorse. He thinks it while he draws, while he uses different marks and pens and paper and ink in the back of his sketchbook to make thick lines of hate and blocks of colored sadness. He breathed Monster when they exchanged rings and sobbed Monster because they dont match. Because he doesnt want them to match.
Today hes leaning against the cement wall behind the CD store where they first met. Its a solid wall of cracked and dirtied grey, and standing with his back against it, the coolness seeping through the back of his shirt with the smell of cigarettes that he can identify down to the brand and the sound of some song he cant listen to anymore because it reminds him of the things he loves is so nostalgic and sweet that it makes him ache for o
He should have turned eighteen (and nineteen and twenty) but somewhere along the lines he placed a roadblock in that path and his mentality slammed head-first into that stubborn wall. He refused to change because if
He didn't know how this other person sensed his apprehension or inexperience, but he had, and now he was dealing with it as if it was the most fragile thing in this world.
Gerard didn't make the first move- Frank did. Gerard let Frank kiss him. He saw the other boy leaning in, saw him hesitate then continue when Gerard moved foreward slightly, watched the sleepy eyes close. His own vision darkened after that and he felt the cool, firm texture of another mouth on his.
Something about kissing must be instinctual- Gerard assumed it had to be. He had never kissed or been kissed, never fooled around with another person. And yet, as soon as their mouths came together, he just knew to part his lips. He could feel Frank's teeth behind his lips and when they opened their mouths- slightly, ever so slightly, just so their tongues could poke out before darting back inside their respective homes where they were safe and warm- he felt the smooth enamal wit
The eve ‘fore Christmas Day,
Two boys walked up to a house,
They were the Brothers Way…
“JINGLE BEEELLS, BATMAN SMEEELLS, ROBIN LAID AN EEEGGG!!”
Gerard socked Mikey in the shoulder to shut him up and rolled his eyes. “I swear Mikes, you dis Batman one more time and I will shove that wreath down your throat!”
He pointed threateningly at the leafy, evergreen wreath that hung on Frank’s door before ringing the doorbell.
Gerard was not in the best of moods. He had not slept well that night, having had drunk too much coffee the day before. This morning, his headphones had broken and he’d burnt his fingers while baking cookies with Mikey. And to add insult to injury, wherever he looked, he could see couples happily staring at each other with love filled eyes or going on romantic little strolls on Christmas Eve while he was stuck in the "friend zone" with his crush. Oh, and he was with his little brother, wh
Gerard nodded absently, his sketchbook resting on his lap, back of his head absorbing the cold that penetrated through the large glass window. Kay, he said, picking up his pencil and rubbing soothing circles into the eraser he had clutched in his hands.
Dont wait up, Ray hollered as Bob opened the door and the two scattered off to do what ever it was those two did. Gerard sighed and closed his eyes, letting a smile tug at his lips gently. Finally alone how long had it been since he was alone? Ages, it felt.
With a sigh he turned his body posture so that he was facing the window. His forehead was pressed against the glass now, making him shiver slightly. He looked down at all the people milling about beneath his
"I'm sorry. And I know, ya know, that I apologize for like, everything, but I am really, really sorry. I know you're just letting me stay here because you feel sorry for me, and --"
Frank wasn't cut off by Gerard's hands on his jaw, but he was cut off by Gerard's lips pressing themselves against his. And Gerard couldnt believe his sudden compulsive behavior, but he really couldn'
Inside the card was a very gushy, sappy confession of love he had written to Frank Iero, his long-time crush who didn’t even know he existed. But, like every other year, Gerard knew he would never have the guts to give it to Frank. So, like every other year, on February 13th, Gerard tossed another perfectly made Valentine’s Day card into the trash can by his desk.
He leaned back his desk chair, letting his shaggy bangs fall over his eyes and sighing dejectedly.
I’m such a coward, he thought, hating himself for being so spineless, No wonder Frank doesn’t even know me.
Gerard bit his lip, feeling his eyes start to sting with tears but just as he was about to burst into tears, Mikey burst into his room.
“Mikey!” Gerard said, clearing his throat and quickly brushing his palms across his eyes. “Haven’t you ever
"Frank? What're you doing?" Gerard asked as he sat up in his bed. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. "Frank?" he asked again.
From the floor, Frank simply, quickly shook his head, and flicked the pinwheel.
Gerard climbed out of bed, his stomach doing odd things, considering the time of the morning and the fact that he had just woken up. After nearly tripping to his death on a stack of newspaper, Gerard finally sat down in front of Frank, more or less securing the kid's place in the corner. Frank didn't seem threatened by this, just more relaxed, like if he never got out of that space he wouldn't complain. Gerard frowned at the fact that what cove
Frank looked up from Pansy. "What's up, Gee?"
"You know how Ryan searches through fanfictions for ones of him and Bendon now they're back together and... Acts them out?" he grimaced. "Well, the little bitch has discovered "Frerard" and keeps sending me them every fucking day. I swear, Pete needs to control his fucking kids better," Gerard complained.
"Uh... You do know they aren't actually HIS kids, right?" Frank leaned over the edge of the couch.
"Well, what are they? His nephews or something?"
Frank sighed in defeat. "Yeah... What's Frerard anyway?"
"It's what the fans call it when we... When they write stuff about... us. You know, like, being... together," he mumbled awkwardly.
"Like, me and...?" Frank wiggled his finger in the space between him and Gerard, who nodded. "Oh."
"I'm putting them in my Junk folder, obviously, he's worse than Mikey!"
"I heard that!" A voice from the kitchenette called over the sound of the kettle boiling. Again.
The first thing I noticed when the Way family walked in through our door was that one of the brothers was incredibly cute. He was exactly the kind of boy I dreamed about; dark haired, not too tall, dressed in tight, black jeans and with eyeliner applied thickly and masterfully. Unfortunately, in my experience, all dream boys are either taken, straight or don't exist. And also unfortunately, this boy looked like the kind who was taken or at least wanted by many…
"Donna, Donald, how good to see you!" my mother gushed, stepping forwards and embracing both Mr and Mrs Way.
She turned to the two boys. "And these must be the famous Way brother's I've heard so much about!"
Dream boy smiled and held out a hand for my mother to take.
"I wouldn't say famous so much as infamous," he laughed modestly, "But yes that would be us. I'm Gerard and this is Mikey."
I'll be honest, I laughed louder and longer than any of the adults just so Gerard would look at me, even if it was only to
It was Tuesday, the second day of summer vacation, and Gerard slept in, till bout 1:54 pm.
He stood in the doorway of this kitchen, messed up his (already messed up) hair. Poured himself some coffee, and sat next to Mikey who was eating cereal. Their mom sat down drinking her coffee, Gerard? she said.
Can you go walk down to the Dollar Store and get some stuff?
She hands him a list of groceries.
Ah I dont wanna
But I wanted to play video games all day.
Hey Gee, Mik
I threw my phone on the ground, for dramatization? Yeah.
"Gerard, I love you. I am in love with you. There. I said it."
His facial expression, puzzled, yet..relieved?
His eyebrows had risen, and his mouth had opened.
As if, he was speechless, his lips twitched in attempt at responding.
My body no longer covered in sweat because we were stuck in the middle of a desert.
stranded until, who knows when.
I was now so nervous, the rush of heat spreading throughout my veins, caused little beads of fear of rejection to fall down my face.
"Ugh, the car broke down, dammit to hell" our manager Brian spoke, out of frustration.
We were in the middle of nowhere, I havent seen a sign directing us anywhere for miles now.
"But, Brian, we're supposed to meet up with the gang in an hour" Gerard said, also sounding rather frustrating.
Its hot, all I can see are a few plants, randomly scattered around, a silent blank road, and thousands of miles of only wh
~ side note~ all yaoi fangirls MUST obey the rules
1) The only thing better than Man Sex is Man Smex.
2) If it doesn't have a penis, it's not important.
3) No girls allowed, girly looking men welcome.
4) If people don't like the paring, they must be homophobic.
5) No matter how cute the Uke is, he must look hot during the sex scenes.
6) If you have apairing that you want to display online you must have their names connected.
(i.e. Frerard = Frank iero and Gerard Way, or FrankXGerard)
7) If there is not punishment for being a bad boy, you must involve chains somewhere.
8) If it's not kinky enough, keep trying till you can make ALL fangirls scream for more.
9) Only use people we all know like Gaara and Sasuke or Frank and Gerard way
10) Make ALL of the men/boys HOT!!!! (even if it's draco malfoy from harry potter)
“So, are you?” Frank asked again, angrier than he is annoyed leaning over the kitchen counter.
“That’s none of your fucking business.” I replied to him. His nostrils flared and eyebrows burrowed. “Well I’m sorry for worrying about your health you asshole, now answer me.”
“Like I said Frank, none of your business.” Frank picked up a glass from the counter and threw it across the room, shattering it to pieces. His demeanor didn’t change either. “Drugs are bad Gerard, coke is bad, heroine is bad, and meth is bad. Now are you doing them or not?”
“I said NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUISNESS YOU FAGGOT!” I couldn’t take Frank anymore. I turned around and was going to head to my room before Franks hand dug onto my shoulder, nails latching on. He hastily turned me around, seeming dangerous even though he’s shorter than me.
“It’s my business if you die Gerard!”
Every eye in the stadium was on Gerard as he strutted around like a maniac. He was one of the only people on earth who could pull off looking both amazingly sexy and mentally deranged at the same time. His dancing was jerky, like a malfunctioning robot, but in a strange way he was the epitome of grace. His voice was the perfect mixture of heaven and hell; the man was a walking contradiction. The way he swung his hips; the sheer audacity of the hand in his skin-tight jeans The only other performer whod ever been able to pull a stunt like that was Elvis, and he was dead and gone. Gerard was very alive, and very real, a fact that Frank could not easily overlook.
So when we go dont blame us
The singer was bouncing now, jumping up and down, and to the guitarist it was practically hypnotic. He strode up to the front of the stage, and without pausing his strumming, began to nuzzle Gerard