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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 2 years ago

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A Few Very Compelling Arguments - Frank Iero x Reader

Summary: You are new in the band and Frank can’t seem to stand you. After getting hurt by him on stage you decide to quit the band, something Frank is not at all happy about. Reader: fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of mental illness, hints at suicide(?), blood, jealousy, Frank is an asshole in the first half Word Count: 7 702 (don’t ask me what happened there, I don’t know either) A/N: I’ve wanted to write some enemies to lovers with Frank since I read this story by @ghoulgirlwrites a few weeks back. I hope it’s not too similar. Anyways this story sent me on a total enemies to lovers thing, and now you guys have to live with that. Also I take no criticism for writing Frank this vulnerably. We all know he’s sensible, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be afraid to be vulnerable in the presence of the people he loves and trusts.

You weren‘t sure when things had started to change, but you knew you didn’t like it. You had not been in My Chemical Romance for long, a little less than a year. You were a friend of Ray’s, all the way back from his time in college, even though you were several years younger than him. After he had asked you to join the band on tour as their drummer one thing had led to another, and suddenly you had become the fifth member of the band. Then things had been fine, as fine as things could be when you were stuck in a van a majority of the day with a bunch of guys who had yet to discover the concept of taking showers. It was only at the start of this tour, right after the release of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge that Frank had started to change. He had always been very sweet to you before then, polite, friendly. Sure he was somewhat energetic on stage, but off stage he had been nothing but a sweetheart, something that definitely had gotten more to you than it should have.

It started off slow, the poking, the pranks, the nicknames. You knew he loved sneaking bites of other people’s food, or just put on whatever shirt he found on top of the clean laundry basket, no matter who it belonged to. You would not have minded this at all, if it had not always been your plate he stole fries from, or your favourite band shirt he picked to wear on stage.

That had been the beginning of it all. He had stopped after you had gotten pissed at him for staining your only white shirt with coffee one morning, and almost you had allowed yourself to believed things would calm down again. Sure you were angry that he had ruined your shirt, which he had had no reason for wearing other than being too lazy to search for his own. And that he had bought you a new package of your favourite cookies after having finished the last one without telling you had almost soothed the waves of your grudge against his impulsiveness.

But then he began throwing shit at your drums. At first just empty water bottles, which were really harmless. You even laughed at that, feeling like he was trying to include you more on stage. The roll of gaffer tape he had thrown was not quite as funny, nor was the full water bottle, Mikey’s shoe, and his mic stand; especially because the last one had ruined one of your drums, leaving you to improvise for the rest of the show.

You had been righteously furious after that.

That had been the evening you had realised something between Frank and you had truly changed. When you had talked to him about stealing your food and clothes, he had nodded and apologized for overstepping. That night, he had shrugged you off, saying he’d pay for it and there was no reason to react as upset as you did. This comment got him not only protest from you, but also from Ray, who had had the misfortune of overhearing that conversation.

Since then things had completely gotten out of control.

Frank snapped at you every opportunity he had, watched you like a hawk as if he was waiting for you to make a mistake he could get you for. He did not necessarily insult you. He just made it abundantly clear that he considered you unfit for the job of MCR’s drummer.

You knew they had not meant for you to overhead that snippet of conversation, but one time you had even heard Frank complain to Gerard about you, how you distracted everyone, how you would make it impossible to enjoy this tour for everyone.

You had quickly plucked in your headphones in order to not overhear more than that, but these few words had been enough to drive you towards the brink of a crisis. Wasn’t it bad enough that you had to share the very limited tour bus space with someone who actively seemed to hate you? He also tried to involve others in this strange feud he had started and was scheming against you!

After that incident you did not try to hide your annoyance at him anymore. If he already had to tell Gerard, Gerard might as well see for himself. Maybe that would speed up the inevitable process of them kicking you out of the band. Nobody had brought it up to your face yet, but you were sure Frank had suggested it to the others already. You didn’t want to leave the band, but with the way Frank was treating you, it was not hard to guess that this was his goal, to get you kicked out of the band.

Whatever you had done to make him hate you this much, it was something nobody was willing to talk to you about. Had you said or done something wrong? Was it your behaviour towards your band members? You were sure you had treated them just like any other friends, and of course you were closest to Ray, since you knew him the longest. But even though you were not aware of anything that could have upset Frank this much, especially since the others seemed to have no problem with you whatsoever, you would still have been willing to make up for it. If you only knew what the problem was!

You had tried talking to Frank, who had always brushed you off with a mean comment about you not caring anyway. And if you tried talking to the others, they always said it was not their place to tell you, and you needed to talk to Frank. At your response that you had tried, but he wouldn't tell you anything, they had just shrugged, and told you they couldn’t help you.

And this was how tour had started. For two months Frank and you had done nothing but glaring at each other. He shot hurtful comments your way, and whenever you were too tired or annoyed to hold back, you returned them. The tension this created was undeniable, but to your surprise the others just laughed it off, even having fun watching Frank and you bicker.

The worst thing of all though was probably how much ever single comment from Frank hurt. Not because of the comment itself, but because of him. You had not known him for very long, but you spent enough time together to have gotten to know him quite well. You saw the way he treated his friends, caring, loving, mischievous of course, yes, but never leaving a sliver of doubt that all his actions towards them were laced with nothing but deep, honest love for them.

A part of you hated yourself for loving watching him play music, no matter whether he was writing it, rehearsing or playing shows. At shows he was as energetic as you had never seen anyone in their life before, writhing around on stage, singing, screaming, and still flawlessly playing his guitar. He threw stuff at you occasionally, but this tour it did not seem quite as bad as the previous one.

During rehearsals he was absolutely focused, only rarely loosing himself in the music as much as he did on stage. But your favourite times to watch him were when he was writing music. Most often it was during long bus rides, when Gerard and Mikey would read comics, and you one of the novels off your ‘to be read’-pile. Ray and Frank would grab their guitars, and sit down, playing the same melodies in variations for hours upon hours until they had found something they both were content with. Then you would take glances over the rim of your book, just watching Frank, as he was sitting on one of the sofas, his fingers skipping over the fret board, his eyes closed. He was so focused then, and still half lost in the melody, in the music he and Ray were creating. Those moments were so soft, so intimate. It felt forbidden to watch him then, and still you could not tear your eyes away. You just hoped he would never find out about it.

He, on the other hand, was unashamed whenever he stared at you. It was during meals, when you sat on opposite ends of the table, as many of your friends between you as possible to stop you from getting into another heated argument. He would watch you closely then, his eyes following your every movement, never caring if you were staring back at him challengingly.

It was worse on stage. Moments in which he should have payed attention to Ray or Gerard, he glanced at you, even when there was no need to. Of course there were the few parts of the show where the two of you needed to work together, coordinate with each other, and those were never a problem, because as much as you hated him, you were still professional enough to not let it show. But the moments where he made sure you were looking at him right before doing something stupid-

It drove you up the walls, the constant feeling of his eyes on you, until you would eventually give in and meet his across the stage.

This night was no different. Or well, maybe it was. It was more of Frank’s snarky, hurtful comments before the show, more than usual. More of relentlessly watching you during it.

You knew Frank was not in the best space of mind recently. Just like the Way brothers he struggled with mental health, and just because you could not stand seeing his pretty face around you, and felt like getting sick the moment you thought about him because of your contrasting feelings for him, you still were observant. Maybe it was about keeping the team together, you wondered, as you felt sweat running down your face, your arms, your back. In order to keep doing the shows everyone needed to be in top shape, and whenever someone wasn’t, the others did their best to take care of them.

It was difficult with Frank though. He would insist to be left alone, and wouldn't come out of his bunk for anything other than a small breakfast in the morning, a toilet break or playing shows. It had been like this for the past three days, and slowly but surely you began worrying about him.

He looked pale underneath his make-up, dark circles under his eyes which he covered up with red eyeshadow. If he hadn’t screamed at you that one time you had tried to ask if there was something you could do for him, you might have tried to get him to open up a little. You hated to see him suffer just as much as you hated him. But then again, maybe you didn’t hate him quite as much as you always made yourself believe.

The thought was unsettling, and at the realisation you almost would have lost the rhythm you were still playing. You definitely had crushed on Frank before things had gotten weird. And you knew you cared about him, even if you did not want to admit it to yourself. So was the idea that you did not hate him at all so far off?

Just in that moment you felt his eyes on you. Not to coordinate the music, but staring at you. For a moment you tried to resist looking back at him, but it was impossible.

He was close to your drums, black crosses over his eyes, the red eyeshadow masking how sunken in his face was. As if he hadn’t eaten and slept for days. You had a feeling he really hadn’t.

For a moment he was holding your gaze, and then, with three big steps, he strode over to Gerard, who was prancing around on stage as always. It happened so fast you were not even sure what you had seen, when Frank let go of his guitar, and grabbed Gerard’s face while he was still in the middle of singing, only to kiss his passionately.

You could tell Gerard was surprised, suddenly having been cut off by a kiss from one of his guitarists, but he reacted smoothly, wrapping his arm around Frank’s neck and kissing back for a short moment, before he pushed Frank off, and continuing to sing as if nothing had happened.

Quickly you averted your gaze, feeling like you had witnessed something you were not supposed to. Of course you knew of the rumours that Frank and Gerard were dating. It was nothing more than that, a rumour, as far as you knew, but maybe you did not know everything.

It was clear Frank had wanted you to see that kiss. Was this maybe the reason he hated you so much? Because you and Gerard had become close friends, and he thought you were trying to steal Gerard away from him? Nothing could have been further from the truth. You liked Gerard, but only as a friend. You were far too confused about your feelings for Frank to even think about liking anyone else.

Still, you felt like that kiss had meant to show you who Gerard belonged with. But what did you care? Frank could have Gerard all for himself, if this was what his weird behaviour was about. It just stung a little too much, the idea that Frank had never seen you as anything but a rival for Gerard’s affection. Secretly you had wanted his glances and stares to mean more than pure hatred.

That’s how the rest of the show went by. You tried focusing on your drumming, but were continuously distracted by thoughts about Frank, about how maybe you had liked him the whole time, more than liked even. About how he seemed to hate you because you were close to Gerard. About how unreasonably disappointed you were that he had probably never had any positive feelings for you at all.

You were glad when the encore finally was over. Your head hurt from all the intrusive thoughts, the picture of Frank kissing Gerard had burnt itself deeper into your mind than you wanted to admit, you were bathed in sweat and your whole body was aching. You had been so tense during the set that you would probably have a whole body muscle ache tomorrow.

You slammed your sticks down on the drums for the last few times that night, letting the applause of the audience wash over you as the last chords of the nights echoed back from the venue’s walls. Gerard was waving at crowd, Mikey already on his way off stage, and Ray threw the left over picks into the audience. You were about to do the same with your drum sticks, when your eyes involuntarily found Frank. He was standing not too far off from your drums, but instead of having turned to the crowd, he had turned to you.

Too late did you notice the motion he had executed with his right hand, too late did you see the blinking thing he had thrown through the air right at you. If you had not been mid motion of throwing your sticks into the audience, you could have evaded whatever he had launched at you, but now you were to slow, the metallic object hitting the side of your forehead hard, and you could not suppress the pained gasp.

Surprised you clasped your hand over the part where you had been hit, immediately searching for what had hit you. It was Frank’s capo. It had clattered to the ground after having it you. Annoyed you picked it up, and threw it back at Frank, not noticing the guilty and apologetic expression he was wearing. The capo hit him mid-chest, and surprised he caught it, as you stared daggers at him from behind your drums. Quickly, as quickly as you could, you climbed out from behind them, and headed off stage.

“Oh, (y/n), you’re bleeding,” Mikey noticed as you tried storming past him to get to the backstage room as quickly as possible.

You were done with tonight. Not only because of all these thoughts that had plagued you, or Frank kissing Gerard. No, this was the first time Frank had actually injured you, and that was the last drop. You couldn’t do this anymore. Frank had made it so very clear he didn’t want you in the band, he could finally have what he wanted. Tomorrow morning you would tell Gerard you quit. Tomorrow, not today, so nobody could say you were being too emotional about it. If they asked you really, really nicely, and promised to keep Frank in check, you would finish this tour with them until they had a new drummer to replace you. But you wanted out. Now.

A warm hand around your wrist dragged you out of your thoughts, and Mikey was looking down on you worriedly.

“What happened there,” he asked, gesturing to your head.

“What,” you asked, bringing your hand up to where Frank had hit you with the capo. When you pulled your hand away, your fingers were coated in blood. “Oh shit.”

Quickly you looked around, trying to find a mirror, but the closest one was probably down the hallway in the bathrooms.

“Is it bad,” you asked.

Mikey leant in closer, taking a good look.

“Nope, don’t think so. Small cut, about this long.” He held his hand out, showing you with his index finger and thumb how long the cut was. Not more than three milimeters.

It seemed there had been a sharp edge on the capo.

“Shit, (y/n), I’m so sorry-”

The voice belonged to no other than Frank, who had followed you off stage. When you spun around to face him, and he saw the thin line of blood running down the side of your face, his eyes grew wide.

“Oh fuck-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, asshole,” you hissed at him, feeling your blood boil at the sight of him. Had you really thought you liked him? What the hell had been wrong with you? “This was the last time, the last time you threw anything at me, you understand?”

“I didn’t mean to hit you, I was aiming for the- it’s not gonna happen again, I promise,” Frank rushed out. Something about him now was so very different than you remembered him from the past months. He looked genuinely sorry and concerned. But you couldn’t be bothered, not anymore.

“No it’s not, because I won’t be on stage with you anymore for you to throw shit at me!”

You had not meant to say that, but it felt good, to see the shock on Frank’s face, to feel Mikey’s surprise.

“(y/n), you’re not-”

“Yes, I am Mikey! I am quitting! So you-” you pocked your finger into Frank’s direction, “are finally getting what you’ve wanted all this time. Happy now?”

And with that you stormed off.

You did not bother to go to the backstage room, as you had planned, and you did not wait as you heard both Frank and Mikey calling for you to wait. You headed straight out of the backdoor, past the tour bus that was supposed to drop everyone off at the hotel. You could not wait long enough for everyone to make it there, and you could not face Frank.

By now him and Mikey had probably found Gerard and Ray, and told them what had happened; that you had quit.

Shit. That was exactly what you had wanted to avoid, coming across as impulsive and emotional. Frank was supposed to be the impulsive and emotional one, not you. But fuck, you were emotional! There was still blood running down the side of your face, and the headache you had already felt before increased its intensity with every minute. You needed to get away from here, as fast as possible.

Not caring about security or fans being able to see you, you hasted towards the street, already seeing multiple cabs lined up, waiting to find concert goers who were ready to pay for a ride home. Climbing into the first cab in the line, you named the address of the hotel the band had booked rooms at. In the hotel the staff gave you concerned looks, considering how you looked, and even offered to call a doctor, but you insisted you would be fine with a plaster and the keys to one of the booked rooms.

Just as always during hotel nights, it was a double room. A queen sized bed took up the majority of the room, leaving little space for anything but a narrow wardrobe and two bedside tables. You wondered who they would pair up with you tonight. Probably not Gerard, Frank would insist they share a room. Maybe Mikey then, or Ray. You hoped it was Ray. He still knew you the best, and would understand why you could not stay in the band any longer.

Only once you entered the bathroom, you realised you had basically left everything but your wallet at the tour bus, your whole overnight bag with shampoo, towels and pyjama. Luckily the hotel had a shampoo dispenser, towels and some bathrobes prepared for their guests, so you quickly grabbed one, and locked the bathroom door behind you.

The first thing you did was inspect the cut on your forehead. It really was tiny, but the amount of blood had made it look way worse than it was. Now the bleeding had stopped, and the blood dried. Carefully you washed it off, and in the end there was hardly anything to see but a small scratch.

While you were in the shower, rinsing off the sweat of the show, you heard someone entering the hotel room. Over the rushing of water it was impossible to tell who it was, but you definitely heard the door to the room open and then close.

After that you tried to hurry. It wouldn't have been fair to Ray to make him wait too long for his shower. He probably hadn’t taken one at the venue yet. Drying yourself off, you threw on the bathrobe, hoping Ray had either brought your night bag.

“Hey Ray,” you called, as you unlocked the door, your dirty clothes thrown over your arm, and stepped into the room, “you didn’t happen to bring my-”

You froze as you saw that it was not Ray who was sitting on the bed, waiting for you to finish in the bathroom.

It was Frank. He seemed to have washed off the make-up at the venue, because only faint traces of colour stuck to his face now.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he got up. “The others said we should pair up.”

For a long moment you stared at him. You wanted to say something along the lines of never sharing a bed with him, but you knew that he would then insist of sleeping on the floor, and another part of you, the one that had come up with the stupid idea of you maybe liking him, would never have allowed that.

“I packed your bag,” Frank added, nodding to the bag he had placed on the window side of the bed. How had he known you preferred the window side? Or was it just a coincidence?

You nodded, not bothering with an answer.

“Can I- is the bathroom free,” Frank asked carefully. You knew he was watching you, but you refused to look at him, just nodded.

As you were going through your night bag, trying to find a shirt and a pair of shorts, you heard as Frank grabbed his own bag, and headed for the bathroom.

“What you said about leaving the band-”

You guessed he had stopped in the door, but you didn’t turn around.

“I don’t want you to leave. Never wanted that. Can you- I don’t know, can you think about it again? I know we all would-”

“Luckily I don’t care about what you – or the others – want. Not anymore anyway,” you hissed at him, and for the first time that night you felt your throat close up as tears burnt in your eyes.

There was shuffling behind you, and almost you would have expected Frank to say more on the matter but then the bathroom door closed.

Wiping away the tears with the back of your hand, you began looking through your bag again. The idea that Frank had been the one to have packed it, that he had gone through your stuff, made you feel uncomfortable, but at the same time tucked at your heart.

There was a pair of shorts, but the only t-shirt you found was not your own. In fact you were pretty certain it was one of Frank’s. Maybe he had packed it by accident. What other explanation could be there for it? In the end it did not matter though. Shirt was shirt, whether it was his or yours, so you threw it on, and tied the bathrobe closed over it, so Frank wouldn't give you shit for wearing one of his shirts.

In the bathroom the water was still running when you went to bed, cuddled underneath one of the thick blankets. You were grateful there were separate blankets. The idea to share one with Frank was sickening. Speaking of sickening, you still had that headache. While you had been in the shower, it had gotten better, but now it came back worse than before.

After a while you decided you were not going to be the hero who suffered through it, and got up again. Somewhere in your bag you still had some painkillers…

Once more going through your bag, you subconsciously registered that in the bathroom the water had stopped running, and instead suspicious silence spread out from behind the door. No ruffling of towels, no clicking of shampoo bottle lids, not padding of naked feet on tiled floor.

Holding your movement, you listened. Only silence.

With a shrug you grabbed one of the painkillers from the small bottle, and downed it together with the contents of a small water bottle you had kept in your bag. Definitely needed to replace that one tomorrow with a full one, you mentally noted.

That was when you heard it.

Again you halted, not sure if you had imagined the sound, but a second later it was clearer than before. That was definitely someone crying, sobbing even. Quietly, trying to muffle the sound, but the nightly environment was too quiet to hide it. And it came from the bathroom.

Before you even had thought about it, you were banging against the door. You had heard about how badly Gerard had been, you’d be damned if My Chem lost one of their guitarists just because you couldn’t be bothered to try to talk to him. The idea of Frank doing something really stupid to himself wasn’t farfetched, considering the state he had been over the past days.

“Frank? Frank! What’s going on in there? Open the door!”

Again you banged at it, before listening for a response, but all you got was another sob.

“Frank! Are you okay? Let me in!”

Nothing but more sobs.

Your heart was racing in your throat, and your knees weak. You were probably the last person Frank would really talk to, but you didn’t dare leave the room to get help from the others. So instead you pressed down the door handle experimentally, and like a miracle it swung open.

“I don’t care if you’re naked, I’m coming in,” you warned before you pushed the door fully open and stepped inside.

The air of the bathroom was wet and smelled of Frank’s shower gel. The man himself was sitting in front of the sink, back leant against the wall, and luckily dressed in some shorts and an oversized t-shirt. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried between them, hands and arms pulled over his head as if to protect himself from the outside world.

As quickly as you could you ran over to him, and fell to your knees besides him.

“Frank,” you asked worriedly, carefully trying to pry away one of his arms. “Frank, are you hurt?”

Another sob, muffled between his knees, escaped him, before he unwrapped himself, and instead leant his head against your shoulder, burying his face in the fabric of the bathrobe. Instinctively you brought your arms around him, and wrapped him in an awkward hug.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he cried. The air he exhaled was hot, traveling through the layers of fabric until it brushed over your skin. “I know it’s my fault, and it’s all on me, but I don’t know how to fix this. I tried to fix it. But I’ve just made it so much worse. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to lose you.”

Confused you blinked, trying to understand what he was talking about.

“Well, you’re not gonna stop me from leaving,” you told him, fully aware that this was probably exactly the wrong thing to say. But lying to him wouldn’t help him either.

You felt a shiver go through him, and he sobbed again, probably smearing snot all over your bathrobe. Well, not really yours, the hotels. So this should be the least of your worries right now.

“I know. I’m not trying to stop you. I know I fucked up. I tried to fix it, tried to make it work so hard, and all I did was fuck it up. I’m so sorry for ruining this for you,” he whimpered between heavy breaths.

“At which point did you try to fix shit, Frank, hm? When you told Gerard I was a distraction, or when you kept calling me weird names even though you knew I didn’t like it? Or when you kept staring at me as if I’d grow a second head any second? When have you ever tried fixing things? Do you think throwing shit at me would make anything any better? Fuck, Frank, you couldn’t even be bothered to pretend you didn’t hate me as much as you do, just to make it less weird for the others! You didn’t try fixing shit!”

Frank nodded, his hands gripping into the bathrobe, still hiding his face. You could feel how warm his body was, from showering, from crying- he was like a furnace. His shower-wet hair stuck to his head.

“And you can’t expect me to take it any longer, you know? All I’ve been getting from you for months were off handed comments that made me feel like shit, and stuff thrown at me on stage! Fuck, you threw a capo at my head, Frank!”

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” he cried.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you did!”

You couldn’t help but wonder what a strange position you found yourselves in. You were shouting at him while he had buried his face in your shoulder, and was crying his eyes out, all while you soothingly rubbed circles into his back.

After a moment of silence, Frank took a shuddering breath.

“I never hated you,” he mumbled, his voice shaky but clear, as if he was putting lots of thought and effort into every word. “I know it seemed that way, but I never did. The opposite really. When you leave that’s the only thing I need you to know: That I’ve always admired you, and that I wish I could’ve done things right, so we could’ve played with this band ‘till the day we die.”

“Some things just aren’t meant to be,” you answered softly, patting his head, making him sob again.

“I just wish I could go back in time and do it right, you know. Do it right from the very first moment on. Just be honest with you, and hope things work out from there.”

“You could still be honest now,” you offered.

Curiosity was eating away at you. Could you finally find out why Frank had treated you the way he had? Why he had never let you get close, why he had not left his bunk in the past days?

“It wouldn’t make a difference anymore,” Frank mumbled, but he seemed calmer now, as if the idea of telling the truth might offer some relief.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” you suggested, running your hand through his wet locks. They were soft like silk. When he did not speak for a moment, you added: “What’s going on these past days? You barely got out of bed.”

“Wasn’t feeling good,” Frank mumbled. You could feel him slightly lean into your touch as you ran your nails over his scalp, so you continued the simple action.

“I thought so much. What wasn’t feeling good exactly?”

“Think I knew this was coming to an end,” he admitted. “That I’ve gone too far, and you’d want to leave, and that nothing I could do would stop you, and that everything I had tried to keep you to stay up until that point had only driven you away.”

You hummed, signalling him you had heard, waiting if he wanted to say more, but when he didn’t, you asked another question.

“What was that thing about kissing Gerard earlier at the show? You know… if you like him you don’t gotta worry about me, okay? Gee ‘n I are friends, nothing more.”

“I know.”

“Then why that kiss? It felt like… you wanted to demonstrate that Gerard belonged with you…”

“Didn’t,” Frank answered quietly. “Wanted to make you jealous.”

“Why would you want to make me jealous of you?”

“Not me. Gee.”

You blinked. “Gerard? Why would I be jealous of Gerard?”

Frank tensed underneath your hands, but did not answer. If he wanted you to be jealous of Gerard, could it be that- no. No possible way.

You filed that piece of information away with all the other puzzle pieces that did not fit the picture, and continued asking your questions. It seemed, for the first time since you had met Frank that he was willing to open up to you, at least to a certain degree. You had to make use of that opportunity.

“In the beginning – the first few weeks – we were fine, remember? What changed?”

Frank shook his head against your shoulder, making you raise your eyebrows.

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t wanna say,” Frank corrected.

“I thought you wanted to be honest,” you answered, knowing you were poking around in affairs that probably were none of your business, but he had made you suffer for months. You felt like you finally deserved some answers.

“Emotions are complicated,” Frank replied cryptically.

“What emotions?”

For a moment he thought about his answer, then he spoke slowly. “I wanted you to notice me, wanted you to know that I felt comfortable around you, like when I stole your food and your clothes. And when it got obvious you didn’t feel the same… I got frustrated. And jealous. Because you always hang out with Gee ‘nd Ray ‘nd Mikey- and I started doing dumb shit, and – it was easier to drive you away than to admit that I wanted actually the complete opposite of that. Because when I’m honest, I’m vulnerable, and I don’t wanna be hurt.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Frank,” you whispered, not entirely sure what to make of the things he had just told you. He had wanted you to notice him? He sure had managed that. Why would he have been jealous though?

“What hurts me and what doesn’t isn’t in your power to decide,” Frank mumbled, his words muffled against the bathrobe you wore.

“Frank-” trying to pull him slightly away from you to look at his face, you placed your hands on his shoulders, but he only stiffened under your touch, his hands clawing tighter into your clothes. “Frank, I feel like I still don’t really understand what is going on, what has been going on the whole time. You say you’re jealous, and you don’t really hate me- but it’s pretty obvious you don’t like me either. What is it, you feel? Can you try putting it into words?”

Frank shook his head against your shoulder again.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“’m scared.”

“Of what?”

For a moment he was quiet, before he suddenly sat up with a jolt. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips red-rimmed, and his whole face swollen and flaky from crying. He looked truly pitiful. You wanted to wrap him in your arms again and promise him everything would be alright. It would have been a lie. He had said he didn’t want you to leave the band but your mind was made up. But maybe a white lie, just to make him feel better…

You were still thinking about how much you wanted to help him, when Frank suddenly leant forward, and without warning pressed his lips to yours. They were hot and tasted of his salty tears. Slightly startled you almost lost your balance from the force with which Frank had come at you. Searching for something to hold onto, and desperate not to let go of him, you quickly wrapped your arms around him, holding him close.

At first it was just the surprise of the sudden kiss that made you dizzy, but when Frank opened his mouth, and licked against your lips, you felt like you could faint any moment. Everything around you was spinning; the only solid thing was Frank, as he took over the kiss, and kissed you harder than anyone had ever done before.

You could feel his pulse hammer underneath your hands, could feel his breath fan over your skin, could taste the desperation with which he kissed you. It was both sweet and hungry, the way he pressed closer to you needy and hopeful, as he twisted you so your back was pressed to the cold, tiled wall of the bathroom, with him pinning you against it, as good as your sitting positions allowed him too.

It was only when you seemed to have worked through the first rush of surprise that Frank suddenly pulled away. Confused at the loss of contact you blinked your eyes open, finding his lips were cherry red, and his eyes glowing. It made you want to lurch forward and kiss him again. But before you could, it seemed like dark clouded his face, and the glimmer in his eyes disappeared, the glow he had seemed to emit darkened.

“This is what I’ve wanted the whole time,” he sat back, bringing more distance between you. Agonizing, cold, painful distance. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you without-”

You cut him off then and there. You didn’t care. Yes, consent was important, but now that you knew he wanted to kiss you, you saw no reason as to why you should stop yourself from doing so.

He gasped when your lips met his again, just as desperate as he had been moments ago, but he kissed back hungrily, and placed his warm hands on your waist as you climbed into his lap. He held you close and steady, as you got lost in his touch. An hour ago you could never have imagined thinking this, but he radiated safety. The way he held you, the way he kissed you, the way his breath brushed over your skin in little gasps, the hammering of your heart at the quiet moans that escaped him. It made you feel like you were on top of the world, everything else around you forgotten, only you and Frank. Who cared about hotel bathrooms and touring and bands and music? Not you, not while you were kissing Frank like you had dreamt of since the first proper conversation you had had with him. The voice, that had tried to remind you of this little fantasy while the rest of you had convinced you that you hated Frank, seemed to dance a little dance of joy in your heart, as you wrapped your hands into Frank’s hair, and pulled him closer and closer.

Only when you were completely out of breath, you eventually pulled away, leaning your forehead to Frank’s shoulder. He used the opportunity to push the collar of the bathrobe away a bit, and placed butterfly kisses on your neck until you were giggling.

“I know I can’t make you stay,” Frank suddenly said, lifting his head. You did too, looking down on him from where you sat in his lap. “I know that if you truly want to leave the band, nothing and nobody can stop you. But when you do… do you think you could stay at least with me? I don’t want to lose you.”

Confused you furrowed your brows at him, tilting your head to ask what he meant.

“Do you think you could give me – us – a second chance. I love you, (y/n), I love your passion and how you never take shit from anyone, how patient you are, how caring, and you’re the most beautiful person I could ever imagine. I love you so fucking much, and I know I probably ruined any chance, but if I haven’t-”

“You haven’t,” you interrupted him.

Frank eyes widened hopefully, and he watched you very closely as he continued. “So if I asked you to be mine- will you be mine?”

“As much as you’ll be mine,” you answered, your heart beating a thousand miles an hour, as Frank laughed in disbelief.

“My heart’s been yours from the first moment on,” he breathed, before pressing his lips to yours again.

But instead of losing yourself in his kiss, you pulled away again.

“Ask me the other thing,” you demanded, making him look at you confused.

“The other-” he stopped, realisation hitting him like a freight train, and he barely managed to get the words out quickly enough. “Please stay in the band, please I beg you. Will you stay in the band?”

You smiled softly, and brushed his hair out of his eyes, before slowly getting up from his lap. Offering him a hand you helped him up. Immediately he placed his hands back at your waist, his eyes searching for an answer to his question in yours.

“Let’s go to bed,” you whispered, “We have a long tour ahead of us, and I don’t wanna miss out on a proper bed.”

“Is that a-”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll stay in the band. If you stop throwing shit at me on stage.”

Gently you pushed Frank down on the bed, and quickly he scrambled to get under the blanket before he opened his arms for you to crawl into. You followed his invitation without hesitation.

“I promise I’ll only throw myself at you from now on,” he whispered, and you could hear the sly grin in his voice, but when you placed your head on his chest, his heart was racing. He was not at all feeling as cool about the situation as he pretended. It made you grin, and you found yourself liking him even more than before.

“Approved, but only under the condition that you take the guitar off before.”

“That can be arranged,” Frank nodded, playing around with the hem of the bathrobe you were still wearing. “Hey, is that one of my shirts?”

Quickly you sat up again, and brushed the bathrobe off, revealing the shirt you had found in your bag, and put on.

“You packed that one for me,” you accused, but when you glanced at Frank, you found he looked at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky.

“You look so good in my clothes,” he whispered, pulling you back down to his chest, and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

His arms were tightly wrapped around you, and while he told you more about how he had felt in the months in which you had been fighting, how heartbroken he had been, how helpless, and how much he had loved you the whole time, you listened to his steady heartbeat until you had fallen asleep.

“Of course she was serious, when she said she wanted to leave,” Ray shook his head, pouring milk into his cereal. “Frank’s been harassing her for months. I’m surprised she didn’t quit sooner.”

“I always thought it was all in good fun between them,” Gerard sighed, sipping from his coffee. “I thought they were goofing around, not actually fighting. I mean, he’s so fucking hard in love with her...”

“Well, yesterday evening they were actually fighting,” Mikey mumbled. “Kept me up ‘till two before they finally shut up.”

“Do you think they killed each other?”

“If yes, we’re in real trouble finding not one, but two new band members,” Mikey sighed.

“I’m not offering my friends again,” Ray quickly defended. “She’s probably already mad that I didn’t shut Frank down more often. I don’t wanna loose more friends.”

“Do we even know anyone who plays drums and would join us?”

“You won’t need a new drummer, if you’ll still have me.”

Your voice made the three look up from their breakfast table, their eyes widening as they saw Frank and you standing next to them. It looked weird seeing the two of you standing so close next to each other without fuming from the mouths. Like an alternative reality, or real life Photoshop.

“Does that mean you’ll stay,” Ray asked, hopeful, his eyes quickly flickering to where Frank’s and your pinkies were linked between you.

“Frank and I talked tonight,” you answered and pulled out a chair, sitting down next to Ray. Frank took the chair on your other side, throwing his arm around your shoulder, and leant over, gently nudging his nose against your jaw before he placed a kiss there. “He had a few very compelling arguments for me to stay.”

Taglist:

@alexstyx @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore @omgsuperstarg @fivelegance @deadlovers @casmustdiee @cmtryghoul

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babymetaldoll · 3 years ago

Text

Danger Days - Chapter eight: "You don't own me"

Word count: 8,6K

Summary: Joey is back and finally reunited with Matthew. Gubler is, by the way, crazy jealous about Mikey.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, penetrative sex, cursing, jealousy.

A/N: Is Matthew right to be so jealous? ... I'm guessing the answer is yes.

Masterlist

::: November 6th, 2010:::

The show was over, sweat dripping down Gerard’s face. He could still listen to the crowd yelling as he walked out of the stage and over the dressing room. He was tired, it was the last date of the leg of the tour, and he felt ready for a good break from being on the road.

Frank grabbed a bottle of water and drank almost half of it. Joey looked at him with a funny stare.

- “Shit! You were fucking dehydrated!”

- “And you failed in your crusade to keep me moisturized”- the drummer burst out laughing and hugged him friendly

- “I can’t believe you remember that!!”

- “You never forget a girl who promised to moisturize you”- the guitarist kissed her cheek, both of them were pretty sweated, but neither of them seemed to care.

- “Fuck Jersey, I’m gonna miss you. I’m not gonna listen to your weird, kinky jokes in a whole month.”

- “Bug, you are so gonna get my calls, so many calls!!”- Joey laughed and let him go.

She was honestly gonna miss him. Though she had managed to stop flirting and staring at him like she knew she had done, their friendship continued to grow, and they were closer than ever. Gerard hated it, but there was nothing he could do about it.

- "Come on!"- Ray argued, overhearing the conversation- "It’s just one month! And you better enjoy it, ‘cos starting February, you are not getting rid of us."

- "And you are not getting rid of me these days either"- Mikey quickly added, and Joey stuck her tongue out to him.

- "That I already knew, bróðir!"

- "It was a good show"- Gerard said out of the blue, and everybody looked at him.

- "Yeah"- they all answered and sat for a while. Ray took off his shirt and looked for a clean one in his bag. Joey quickly ran over and tapped on his pectorals.

- "I’ve seen these a hundred times already, and I still can’t get over the fact you’ve got better tits than I do!"- Ray burst out laughing as Gerard turned around not to see that scene.

In the latest days, he had had to swallow all his jealousy in a slightly successful attempt to stay a little further away from Joey. But staring at her being so close and friendly with everybody was making shit harder for Way. It was a good thing they had a month’s break. Maybe that would help to cool off his head from that crush.

- "So, dinner?"- Frank asked as he took off his shirt too to change into a dry one.

- "First a shower, then dinner and then… to the airport?"- Joey looked at her wristwatch- "Why are we flying at three in the morning?"

- "‘Cos it was the only flight available"- Ray quickly answered and cut the girl a smile- "But it gives us time to shower, eat dinner and get chocolates in the duty-free."

- "You had me at “shower,” then you said chocolates, and you made it perfect"- she answered and grabbed a shirt from her bag. It was the same every time. Gerard would get all excited about the possibility of her taking off her shirt right there with them, but she would always lock in the bathroom for a quick change.

- "Bummer!!"- Frank yelled as soon as Joey closed the bathroom door behind her back- "One day, we are gonna get a shitty venue without a bathroom or whatever, and you are gonna have to show us your bra!!"

- "Never!!"- Joey yelled, laughing from the bathroom. Frank laughed too and sighed. He made it sound like a joke, but he was dead serious about it. He still had a crush on the girl, though he had managed to keep it under control.

Dinner was nice. The band ate at the hotel and left for the airport. Gerard was excited to think maybe if he had a seat with Joey again, but no, he didn’t. Instead, she was alone with a stranger the whole flight to Munich. She didn’t really mind though, she would enjoy the little time alone she got after being most of her time locked in a bus with the band. It was fun, but it could get to be a little too much. And though she wasn’t really a woman with many female friends, she needed a more women-friendly environment for a while. Maybe not having Mikey farting most of the day was going to be nice. Or Frank burping. Or Gerard staring at her. Shit, Gerard staring at her was the worst, ‘cos it made her feel awkward. She needed to get away from him for a while.

The flight from Munich to New York was too long to be true. Luckily, the whole band was too tired to be awake most of the time. They got into the plane and fell asleep right away. Frank looked at Ray sitting next to him and punched his shoulder, forcing him to take out his headphones, pause his movie, and looked at his friend.

- "What?"

- "What are you doing?"- Iero asked and grinned.

- "Fuck you, Frank"- and the boy just laughed.

- "I wanted to know if Christa is picking you up or if you need a ride home. Jamia is coming with the girls to the airport."

- "Thanks, but Christa is coming for me, and my plan is to stay awake to get this jetlag straight."

- "Yeah"- Frank smiled and elbowed his friend- "Sure thing, the jetlag... "- Ray blushed and smacked his friend’s head.

- "I don’t appreciate you talking about me and my wife private life."

- "I didn’t say a thing."

- "Shut up!"- Joey and Mikey said at the same time, sitting right behind the other guys.

- "Stop speaking at the same time. It’s disturbing"- Frank agued and turned around to look at them.

- "Be glad you only have a half-hour left with us then"- Mikey quickly answered and wrapped an arm around Joey’s neck.

- "I’m so sorry for Gerard. He is stuck with you for another six hours."

- "He has been stuck with me his whole life. He is going to have to bear with it"- Mikey said, chuckling.

Needless to say, Gerard didn’t really have a problem with being with Joey for another couple of hours.

The goodbye was slightly sad. And a little awkward. Frank and Ray insisted on introducing Joey to their wives. And considering they had a whole hour to kill before boarding their next flight, the drummer agreed.

It was so weird meeting Jamia, but it also helped her kill the little crush she had on Frank.

Jamia was gorgeous, and the babies - Cherry and Lily- were the cutest. Frank changed completely as soon as he was with them. He turned into a dad and stopped being the annoying teenager Joey had spent two weeks with.

- "It’s so great to finally meet you"- Jamia said as she shook the drummer’s hand with a huge smile.

- "Me too! Frank has talked so much about you I feel like I’ve known you for years now"- which was totally the truth. In the last days, Frank had gotten so excited to go home, he wouldn’t stop talking about his life in Jersey.

- "I am so sorry"- Jamia said as they all sat down in a Starbuck.

- "What for?"

- "Anything my husband has done to make you uncomfortable, like farting, and burping, and being gross"- Joey burst out laughing and turned to her friend.

- "Jersey, your wife is an angel. She is a keeper"- and the guitarist smiled, proud.

- "I know, I don’t know how she can bear with me."

- "Probably ‘cos she had your babies"- Joey grinned, and Frank stuck out her tongue to her. Gerard and Mikey sipped their coffee in silence- "Too bad dad had to go so quickly. I wanted to meet Christa better."

- "You’ll have another chance, Bug"- Mikey smiled at her and sighed. He didn’t really want to go back home. It meant facing the inevitable: his divorce.

Joey and Jamia chatted for a long while. Mrs. Iero needed to know what she was dealing with. And mostly if she was going to get a chance to meet Matthew. By the end of their coffee, Jamia felt much more calmed to know the drummer, and Joey felt so much better to feel Mrs. Iero didn’t hate her. It really scared her to think any of the wives of her colleagues could think something wrong about her, except for Lynz. She didn’t scare her… it panicked her. If she only knew what she wanted to do to her husband.

Frank hugged Joey tight, keeping a safe emotional distance thanks to the proximity of his wife and his real-life in Jersey. He also hugged Mikey and Gerard and promised to call soon. Then, the Way brothers and Joey walked to the domestic terminal and looked for their gate. They got there just when they had started boarding.

- "Seems like we are all sitting together"- Gerard said, taking a look at their boarding passes.

- "Awww, my last six hours with you"- Joey quickly answered and smiled.

- "Stop saying that. You really aren’t getting rid of me these days"- the youngest Way said with a funny smile.

- "Next week I’m flying to Seattle for a few days, you are gonna have to learn to live without me, Mikey Way"- Joey quickly answered and kept walking with him to the gate.

- "Damn it! What am I supposed to do those days?"

- "Go torture Gerard for a change"- she replied and looked at Gee, who was staring back at her. But instead of saying anything about his brother, the singer asked.

- "Are you going to see your parents?"

- "Yes! Mom is forcing me to go and pretty much making me feel guilty for “abandon them” for my job."

- "Wow, that sounds harsh"- Mikey raised an eyebrow- "Can I go with you?"

- "No, Mikey. Matthew is coming along, and he is actually going to meet my parents, which is a huge deal for me."

- "Why?"

- "My parents have never met one of my boyfriends"- Joey confessed and passed her boarding pass to the crew by the gate of their flight.

- "Never?"- Gerard was surprised- "Why?"

-"I’ve never had a serious boyfriend."

- "Again, never?"- Gerard was surprised, and so was Mikey.

- "Yeah. I’m not really a people person, and I don’t usually date a lot, so… that’s it"- Joey cut them a fake smile and started walking to the plane, followed by her friends.

- "I can’t believe you are not a people person. That’s really bullshit"- Mikey argued but met Joey’s serious face.

- "I am, and that’s it."

By the tone of her voice, the two guys knew she wasn’t joking about it. So neither of them kept asking questions and remained quiet until they all sat down. The girl was sitting in the middle of the two guys, which made the three of them very happy. At least she knew she could talk to Gerard not feeling awkward ‘cos Mikey was right there to join the conversation too. Well, that if she made it to speak to Gerard, considering they both had been ignoring each other basically the whole week.

But it was a good flight. The three of them kept sleeping most of the time, watched a movie. Joey kept reading her book, Gerard borrowed it for a while, and Mikey kept reading the comics he had gotten in the airport. A typical trip for the three of them.

Matthew was waiting for Joey outside her gate. And as soon as she saw him, she ran to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around him and feeling his hands holding her tight.

- "Akumu"- she managed to whisper, rubbing her lips against him, refusing to stop the kiss.

- "My Yami"- he said and smiled, to keep on kissing her- "I missed you so much!"

- "I missed you more."

- "Please, never leave again."

- "I’m here now, and I love you so."

- "I love you so much."

Joey couldn’t stop kissing her boyfriend, and he refused to let her go, though people kept staring at them. One of which was Gerard Way.

- "Come on, kids! get a room"- Mikey said and tapped on Matthew’s back- "And be respectful of my sister in public places. Come on! she is a lady!"

- "Go away, bróðir"- Joey managed to say, still rubbing her lips against Matthew’s

- "You little rebel, hey man"- all the interruption forced the couple to stop their lovely reunion.

- "Hey"- Matthew shook Mikey’s and Gerard’s hands. The youngest Way smiled friendly, but his older brother couldn’t even fake it. He really hated Gubler.

- "Hello"- was the only thing he managed to say.

- "How was your trip?"- Gubler asked and smiled at the guys, now wrapping an arm around Joey and kissing her temple several times.

Gerard hated Matthew more and more with every second that passed. The singer had only managed to kiss her once on the forehead. This guy could kiss her whole body and probably have already. And most probably, he was going to do it again in the following hours. The whole idea made him jealous as hell.

- "Wait, how did you get here?"- Joey asked him and looked around- "You are not boarding a plane now, are you?"

- "No, Yami. I just… managed to ask for permission to get here for you and only for you"- Gerard wanted to smash Gubler’s head against the nearest wall. Joey pouted and kissed her boyfriend for what seemed to be a thousand times.

- "I love you"- she whispered and smiled.

- "Somebody’s gonna get laid!!"- Mikey joked as the couple kept on making out- "Ok, ok, come on, let’s go get our bags so you little love birds can… stop doing this in front of me!"

Mikey said and started walking. Gerard couldn’t agree with his brother more.

Lynz greeted her husband at the front door with the biggest kiss and the warmest hug. He kissed her back and smiled, feeling home. It felt good to have her in his arms. To have someone he loved wrapping her arms around him for a change. It had been too long since he felt that. And he didn’t want to let her go.

Mikey walked into an empty house. Alicia had taken pretty much everything. His house was filled with eco and desolation. Tears started falling down his cheeks. Tears soon became a waterfall. He sat on the floor, resting his back against the wall, howling. He hadn’t cried like that in years.

He took a look around at the empty walls. The empty room. His empty life, and realized how lonely he felt. He could fill the time on tour with his friends, with booze, with the shows. But in real life, on his daily basis, Mikey Way was ultimately and unquestionably alone. And that day, there was nothing he could do about it to face it.

Matthew could barely open the door as he refused to stop kissing his girlfriend. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and her lips traveled from his mouth to his neck nonstop.

- "Yami... the..."

- "Fuck me right here against the door, I don’t care"- she whispered, and he groaned.

- "Don’t test me!"

The actor somehow managed to open the door, kicked the bags inside, and found the nearest couch.

- "I missed you so fucking much"- she whispered and pulled up his shirt.

- "Me most! And I needed to fuck you so badly. I hadn’t jerked off this much since I was in high school."

- "Then fuck me, Matthew Gray."

- "My plan exactly."

Joey didn’t care about the jetlag; she didn’t care about how tired she felt. She just wanted to feel her boyfriend inside of her as fast as possible 'cos fuck, she had missed him. And seeing him on top of her half-naked already made her feel as ready as she could be.

His lips played on her skin, making her shiver, as he licked and nibbled every inch of her that was possible. Joey’s hands kept moving on his skin as her eyes kept staring at him on top of her. It seemed he was hungry for her, and she wanted to be devoured.

- "Yami"- he whispered and kissed her neck as he finished taking all of her clothing off- "How much did you miss me?"

- "So much"- she moaned as his hardon rubbed her clit.

- "Show me how much you missed me"- she blushed as the two of them stayed still for a second, staring at each other. Joey slowly opened her legs and let Matthew in. Both of them groaned at the very same time as he filled her up completely.

- "Shit"- Joey bit his arm and scratched her nails on his skin.

- "So tight..."- he managed to say as he started thrusting slowly.

- "Just for you"- the girl sighed and kissed his neck

- "You feel so good, Yami."

Joey’s legs were wrapped firmly around his torso as his hand grabbed on hers, intertwining their fingers against one of the cushions of the couch. Their lips were sealed together, only parting for air every once in a while. And when they did, their eyes crushed, staring in complete silence, just moaning, just kissing, just enjoying the fact they were finally together again.

And they had never wanted each other more. It was sweet. It was passionate. It was love.

- "Please, make me cum"- Joey whispered and watched him smile.

- "Your wishes are my commands"- with those words, Matthew fastened his peace and looked at her. He propped up on his elbows, thrusting into her and hitting her g-spot with every single stroke. He wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t stop staring at her with her eyes closed, whimpering and whispering his name.

- "You look so hot"- Gubler murmured, but she wasn’t able to answer. Instead, her moaning increased and turned into a yell filled with pleasure as she came, which was surely heard by the whole building.

- "Matthew..."- she managed to say as she caught her breath for a second.

- "I’m gonna... "- he whimpered against the skin he bit raw. His thrusts turned messier as he started losing into her, releasing himself and groaning deep into her shoulder as she kept her arms and legs around him.

- "Sorry"- he whispered and chuckled- "That was too fast."

- "I don’t care, we have time to do it again"- she answered and kissed him with a big smile.

- "I just missed you so fucking much."

- "I know, I missed you too... wanna shower with me?"

- "I wanna do everything with you"- she smiled and felt his lips on hers for a sweet kiss. She loved him. She didn’t want to forget that.

::: November 18th, 2010 :::

Matthew frowned as he walked into Joey’s apartment and saw Mikey sitting on the floor, holding a joystick. During the whole time he had dated Joey, Gubler had never met one of her friends. She didn’t have many- or any actually- and he knew it. They mainly were work buddies, or like Tucker, they lived far away. The drummer really hadn’t made friends in Los Angeles. That’s why it was so weird for him to see Mikey Way at her house now pretty much every day. Or that’s how it felt.

- "Hey Gub! Nice to see you again"- the bassist said and smiled, returning his eyes to the screen and pausing the game one second later- "Joey is getting ready for your date."

- "Hey, great… how are you?"

- "Awesome, we literally smashed Assassins Creed today"- Mikey smiled and pointed at the Playstation.

- "Sounds fun."

- "I’m ready, Akumu"- Matthew smiled and looked at Joey walking out of her room.

- "Wow"- he whispered and wide opened his eyes- "You look amazing!"

- "Thank you"- the drummer’s cheeks blushed as her boyfriend walked over and landed his hands on her hips, moving her closer to her body and rubbing his lips against hers for a moment before saying

- "Are you sure you wanna go out? We could stay here and take that dress off slowly"- and she giggled nervously at his insinuations.

- "If we go out and you look at me in the dress for a long while, you might want to take it off even more eagerly, and it might feel even better when you do it"- she murmured, looking straight into his eyes and kissed his lips.

- "Let me see you"- Mikey said and walked over, ruining the sexy moment- "Damn! You never ever dressed like that when we were on the road"- Mikey said and looked at her up and down, something that bothered Matthew very much.

Gubler was a jealous boyfriend, and Joey didn’t like that, so he always hid it. But most of the time, when a guy was too close to her, it honestly bothered him. Needless to say, the fact she was working with a band and a crew of only men, her being the only woman, hunted him day and night. But he made his best and didn’t say a thing ‘cos he wanted to support her no matter what. But Mikey was making things hard for him.

- "Stop it, bróðir!!"- she punched his arm and smiled- "What are you doing tonight?"

- "I guess I’ll stop by Gerard’s and annoy the fuck out of him."

- "Sounds like fun, say hi from me"- Joey grabbed her bag and jacket- "See you tomorrow?"

- "Yeah! I need you to come with me to Fender"- Way announced.

- "Why?"

- "They are working on a custom mustang bass for me. I designed it, and we are going to check it out."

- "Wow!"- Matthew said, surprised- "Dude, that’s great!"- but Mikey just shrugged. He was so depressed he really didn’t care.

- "I guess… anyway, I have to be there at noon."

- "On a Saturday?"- Joey frowned.

- "Yeah… I told them I couldn’t do it any other day."

- "Aren’t you being a little bitch with people just ‘cos you can?"- Joey teased him, and he smiled

- "I actually couldn’t"- Joey raised an eye and turned to her boyfriend.

- "Shall we? Mikey, lock the door when you leave"- they high-fived, and the couple left.

- "Wait… did you give him a spare key?"- Matthew asked, frowning as he realized what his girlfriend had just said.

- "Yeah, why?"- Joey didn’t seem to notice her boyfriend was serious about it.

- "‘Cos you met him last month."

- "And I’ve lived half of that time with him. I think I can trust him. He is my friend"- Joey made lights off of the whole deal, but Matthew was honestly mad.

- "I don’t like this"- he simply said and started the car.

- "Why?"

- "‘Cos I feel he is taking all of your free time."

- "That’s not true! I spend 99% of my time with you! I even go to the set with you! And I spend most nights at your house! So what is wrong with me also spending some time with my friend? Who is, by the way, the only friend I’ve got here in L.A?"

- "But... "- Matthew didn’t seem to find an argument to win that battle, or at least that could make sense to Joey.

- "But what? You don’t want me to hang out with other people?"

- "It’s not that! I just… find it weird that you work with them and go out with him and…"

- "He is my friend, Matthew!"- Joey sighed and looked straight at the road as her boyfriend kept driving. So much for a date’s mood. Gubler took a deep breath and started talking very slowly to sound calm.

- "I know he is your friend, and that’s not what bothers me…"

- "Then?"- the girl turned to her boyfriend and raised an eyebrow- "Are you jealous of Mikey?"

- "No…"- he hesitated, ashamed and even a little scared of Joey’s reaction.

- "You can’t be jealous of Mikey. He just lost his marriage. I am his friend, and he is fucking alone."

- "He has his brother and probably other friends"- Joey made a pause before answering because she felt bad talking about Gerard in front of Gubler.

- "Yeah, but he has his marriage, and I think his wife is best friends with Mikey’s ex… if Mikey didn’t want to tell him, do you think he wants to share his darkest moment with him?"

- "No, but why you?"

- "So you think he has a crush on me! What are you? Fifteen?"

- "No! That’s not what I meant!"

- "Then?"

- "I don’t know!! We’ve never been through this before! I just find it weird!"

- "So you are jealous"

- "Yes! Of course, I am!"- Matthew finally exploded- "But I trust you, so I know nothing bad will happen!"

Joey didn’t answer. She just started outside the window and counted to ten.

- "Yami?"

- "I trust you too, Akumu. And believe me, nothing is gonna happen between Mikey and me"- she whispered and felt her cheeks burning- "But please, don’t get jealous of him. He is the closest thing I’ve ever have of a brother in my entire life, and I love him very much."

The girl made her best to be calmed, she didn’t want to ruin the moment, and she made her best to understand what her boyfriend was going through. Though she hated to face that he was jealous, she could get how her boyfriend felt. It would be too cynical to tell him he had no one to be jealous of because he had no idea how she felt about Gerard. But that was completely platonic and not a threat at all.

- "So… are we ok?"- Matthew asked with a soft tone of voice and held his girlfriend’s hand.

- "We are ok, Akumu"- Joey answered and cut him a warm smile- "Are you ok with me going to Fender tomorrow with Mikey?"

- "Yes..."- he answered without hesitations.

- "Awesome ‘cos I was going to do it anyway."

Mikey lit a cigarette and looked up to the stars in the sky. He was sitting in his older brother’s backyard, drinking a beer, and basically just being there, trying not to think. Gerard was smoking next to him in silence, drawing something to kill time and sipping a diet coke from time to time.

- "So how was your day?"- he finally asked his younger brother.

- "It was good. I was with Joey the whole day"- and Gerard nearly chook- "We played video games, ordered pizza, and basically just did my favorite thing, nothing."

- "How is she?"

- "Great, she had a date night today; otherwise, I would have stayed for a slumber party with her and Gubler."

- "With him too?"

- "Yeah, he is a nice guy. He is obviously jealous as fuck, but Joey doesn’t seem to care, and neither do I actually"- Gerard chuckled

- "So he is jealous of all of us or just you?"

- "Just me… I guess it’s because we hang out a lot."

- "You do? Really?"

- "Almost every time she is not with him. We are going out tomorrow."

- "Where are you going to?"- and that was really something that caught Gerard’s attention

- "To Fender to check how’s my bass going. Wanna come along?"- the temptation was too big for Gerard to avoid.

- "Yeah, it sounds fun"- and he made his best to sound as casual as possible.

- "Great…"- Mikey took a long drag of his cigarette and stayed quiet again. Lynz walked over and cut them a short smile. Gerard’s little brother nodded but didn’t say anything.

- "I’m going out, guys,"- she announced and looked at his husband- "I’m gonna hang out with the girls"- and the girls included Mikey’s ex-wife. Everybody knew they were best friends.

- "Have fun, honey"- Gerard kissed her and smiled. Mikey waved and sighed- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah"- he quickly answered and finished his beer- "I’m gonna take a piss."

Mikey locked himself in the bathroom and burst out crying. He was a wreck, and he didn’t want to show it, not to his brother. He didn’t need his pity. That’s why he hadn’t hung out with him so much those days. That’s why he was stuck at Joey most of her free time.

Alicia had destroyed him. Each time they talked, he ended up even more broken-hearted, more miserable. More alone. Joey had insisted on taking him to see her therapist, but he kept refusing. Instead, he had beer, or vodka, or whatever there was around. And cigarettes and the tv to numb his brain.

- "Are you excited to meet my parents?"- Joey asked Matthew as they sat in front of each other, smiling. He had taken her to her favorite Thai restaurant for dinner, and she was in heaven.

- "Scared maybe"- he whispered and blushed.

- "Why?"

- "I can’t stop thinking your dad is gonna be this tall, brawny Icelandic guy that’s gonna break every bone in my body for dating his daughter"- Joey burst out laughing and nodded.

- "That might be true, but my mom is gonna love you. And she is gonna overfeed you, so tomorrow you should eat light"- Matthew chuckled and held Joey’s hand.

- "I love you so much, Yami"- and she blushed.

- "Akamu, I think I love you more"- they stared at each other for a moment with a goofy smile, until the moment was ruined by her cell phone- "I’m sorry."

The girl whispered and looked at the screen, laughing as Matthew looked at her, not getting what was going on?

- "What is it? What’s so funny?"

- "Frank just sent me a photo. He dressed his kids like pumpkins!! Look! They are so cute!!!"- the girl gave him her phone, and he smiled, faked a smile actually. And it was so obvious, Joey locked her phone and placed it in her pocket.

- "I just… can we have a minute without someone from the band taking your attention from me?"

- "You have my undivided attention! Can you stop being jealous?"

- "Yes… I can! but it’s hard!"- Gubler sighed and calmed himself down ‘cos he knew that was a lost battle.

- "You can take my phone if you want and keep it away"- she said and gave it to him, in one of the toughest decisions she had ever made. That meant Joey was actually doing what her boyfriend wanted her to do. She hated that.

But she loved Matthew and didn’t want to have another argument that night. Matthew took it, turned it off, and placed it in his pocket, enjoying for once a minute of power in that relationship. Joey wasn’t a girl easy to handle. He loved the challenge, but sometimes it felt she was too independent of him. For him.

The sun shining on his face woke Mikey up. And it was hell. Another day, another hungover. He had fallen asleep drunk in his brother’s spare room. Not that he wanted to go home anyway, he didn’t feel like being alone. He quickly rolled in bed and looked at the time. He was late. Groaning, he looked for his phone around the room, found it in his pants, and dialed. Joey’s phone was off.

- "Fuck!"

Joey rolled on her bed and smiled. Matthew was sound and asleep next to her. She cuddled closer to him and kissed his naked skin.

- "This is what I miss the most when you are not home"- he whispered, waking up.

- "The way I wake you up?"

- "No, my arm numbed underneath your neck"- Joey chuckled and moved to free Matthew’s arm- "Thank you."

- "Sorry"

- "Don’t be. I love snuggling with you. You can numb all my limbers"- the girl giggled and kissed her boyfriend’s lips sweetly.

- "All of them?"- Matthew smiled and wrapped both arms around her.

- "Every single one of them… but right now, I have to go to work"- the girl pouted and felt him kissing her lips over and over again.

- "Who schedules a Meet and Greet on a Saturday?"

- "People who work the rest of the week and only have time on Saturday."

- "Touché"- Matthew smiled at her and kissed her lips before getting out of bed- "Meets and greets are weird"- she said and wrapped her body on the sheet as she stared at her boyfriend walking around her room naked, preparing to take a shower- "You literally just meet and greet someone."

- "Yes, that’s why the name"- he answered, chuckling.

- "Sorry, I can’t be smart if you are walking naked in my room"- the girl whispered, blushing. Matthew looked at her and offered his hand.

- "Would you be smarter if you shower with me?"

- "Nop, but I can be totally naughty."

- "That’s my girl…"

Gerard was memorizing every single street as Mikey drove to Joey’s house. He had never been there; his brother seemed to be there always. It bothered him, of course, but today it seemed to be pretty helpful actually. It had been over a week since the last time he saw her, and there was a part of him that missed her deeply. The other part of him felt guilty for missing her so much.

Mikey grabbed his phone and dialed again. Still off. Her phone was never off. What if something bad had happened to her? He dialed again. Nothing. The bassist cursed himself for not having Matthew’s number.

- "Are we close?"- Gerard asked, not looking at his brother, and never noticed he was about to freak out.

- "Yeah"

- "And… does she live with her boyfriend?"

- "No, she has a little one-bedroom apartment, he has… I think an apartment too, but Joey doesn’t want to move in with him yet"- Mikey just said it and didn’t detect his brother’s brightening eyes.

- "Why?"

- "They haven’t dated that long. She feels they aren’t there yet… there it is!"- the youngest Way pointed at an apartment complex- "I don’t see Matthew’s car here, maybe they are at his house."

Gerard frowned at that idea, feeling selfish and stupid. He had sex with his wife that week. Why couldn’t Joey have sex with her boyfriend? Easy: ‘cos Gerard wanted her to be his and only his. But that thought was killing him slowly. He didn’t know how to turn it off.

The Way brothers took the elevator to the fifth floor, walked down the aisle, and knocked on Joey’s door. Neither of them said a thing. Mikey grabbed the keys from his pocket and hesitated. He decided to knock on the door again, in case the girl was with her boyfriend.

- "What’s that?"- Gerard quickly asked, confused- "Do you have a spare key to her house?"

- "Yeah"- he simply answered, not getting his brother’s frowned face- "We exchanged keys in case of an emergency, that’s what friends do"- and Mikey rang the bell again.

- "What’s the rush?!"- the girl opened the door and wide opened her eyes as she first noticed Gerard was there, looking at her. And she was only wearing a robe. Great.

- "I’ve been calling you all day, Bug!"- Mikey hugged her, honestly worried- "I thought something had happened to you!!"

- "Oh, come on! I just… don’t have my cellphone with me"- she whispered and felt her cheeks burning as Gerard looked at her up and down- "Hey"- that was all she could say and smiled at him- "Nice to see you."

- "Nice to see you too."

- "Come in. guys. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen. I’m gonna finish getting dressed."

- "And Matthew?"- Mikey asked, already pouring a cup of coffee for him

- "He left five minutes ago. He and the crew have a meet and greet today."

- Awesome! That means I have extra time to annoy you today"- the girl heard her friend’s voice as she walked over to her closet to get dressed.

- "Yes, but I have to come back home early to pack my bags. We are leaving for Seattle tomorrow"- she yelled back and picked her outfit. Meanwhile, Gerard wandered around, checking every little detail of the house that could tell him a little more about her. There was a drum, an electric drum, and… Mikey’s old bass?

- "Why is that here?"- he asked his brother.

- "I left it here the other day. Bug and I were practicing some songs together."

Mikey simply answered and sat on the couch, grabbed the remote control, and turned on the tv. Gerard looked at him, feeling his brother felt really at home. What else could he find? A family picture of her and her parents, some pretty artworks on the walls, and a million Playstation games.

- "Are we too late??"- the girl showed up shoeless, with wet hair and no makeup on. Just like that, Gerard’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t stop staring, and Joey felt his eyes on her the whole time making her blush. Having him at her house was too overwhelming for her. She kept trying to make light off of the fact she was embarrassed and nervous. She hadn’t seen Gerard ever since that day at the airport, and there was a part of her that had tried unsuccessfully to forget how he made her feel. It was clear that Gerard Way’s effect on her was not something you could get rid of in a few days.

- "Yeah, but you still have… fifteen minutes to get ready"- Mikey said and grinned.

- "I can make it in ten"- and so, she disappeared back into her room, to emerge eight minutes later, fully dressed and ready to go.

- "Shit! That was fast!"- Mikey said and smiled- "And you are hot enough to be a trophy wife"- Joey frowned and punched his shoulder.

- "I am a woman, not a thing to show around."

- "I was just joking."

- "You know I hate those jokes"- she made a pause and raised an eyebrow to her friend.

- "Damn! that hurt"- he argued, still rubbing the spot she smacked and stared at his friend- "Come on, you know I was joking."

- "Yes, but part of being your little sister is teaching you not to be an asshole repeating sexist jokes."

- "Fine"- Mikey turned off the tv and looked at his brother, who hadn’t said a thing in a long while- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah… ready?"- Gerard quickly answered and looked down at his shoes, like looking for something he hadn’t actually lost.

- "Yeah, did you turn off the coffee maker?"- the girl looked at Mikey, and he didn’t move- "I’ll do it."

- "I didn’t remember Bug! Sorry!"- Joey walked to the kitchen and turned the machine off.

- "It’s ok, I would have checked it anyway"- she smiled as she walked back and opened the door- "Shall we?"

Having his own signature bass was Mikey’s dream. And for someone who was fulfilling his goal, the bassist didn’t really look happy. He checked the details, talked with the luthiers, played a little, made corrections, and set a date to see the progress in a week. But he didn’t smile at all the whole time.

- "How are you?"- Gerard whispered as he stood next to Joey at one side of the room, both of them staring at a wall filled with basses and guitars.

- "Good, you? How’s the break?"- she could almost feel her voice shaking as she talked to him. That’s how nervous he made her feel. And after so many days apart, the effect seemed to be getting worse, like a concentrated dose.

- "Good… very pleasant."

- "Are you having a nice weekend?"

- "Yes…"- he whispered and looked at her for a second- "I kinda missed you, you know? “Kinda missed you??! What the fuck was that, Gerard??! What are you?? twelve??!!”

- "Really?"- she whispered, surprised.

- "Yeah… you get used to being around people when you are touring."

- "That’s true"- Joey turned to him and smiled- "I’ve missed you too"- she whispered and looked back at the musical instruments around him.

- "You have?"

- "Sure. I haven’t talked to you since we got here. At least the other guys and I keep texting or calling each other. You vanished."

Gerard faked a smile and looked away. So it wasn’t just Mikey? all the guys talked to her daily, and he had no idea about it? Did that include Frank too?

- "Well, you haven’t texted either"- he simply replied and looked at her with a small smile.

- "You know I don’t have your number, right?"

- "What?"- Gee frowned, confused.

- "You never gave it to me… well, I never asked for it."

They looked at each other in silence, something that happened so often between them; it could be their natural behavior.

- "Would you give it to me?"- Gerard whispered, and neither of them moved.

- “That’s what scares me the most. Under other circumstances, I would give it to you,”- Joey thought and smiled, as her cheeks blushed

- "Your number"- he added and chuckled- “... Although.”

- "I know, perv. Give me your phone."

- "Hey kids!"- Mikey appeared next to them and smiled- "What are you doing?"

- "Giving your brother my number, ‘cos apparently, we weren’t friends until now."

- "Wow, that’s harsh! You didn’t ask for mine either!"- Gerard argued but chuckled.

- "Yeah, you keep saying that, but you didn’t offer it either, and Gerard Way’s number has to be something too exclusive to own."

- "Ok, you are both assholes"- Mikey ignored the whole conversation and looked at his friend- "I need you to help me, Bug"

- "What is it?"

- "I want you to help me pick up a new bass"

- "Don’t you have a hundred already?"- Joey teased him and walked with him

- "It’s not for me, it’s for you"- Joey stopped walking and frowned- "What? You need one."

- "I don’t."

- "Yes, you do, I’m gonna teach you, and I am not gonna lend you mines. They are too special."

- "Mikey…"- but he didn’t let her finish.

- "Besides, we are going to be touring so much, you are going to have to find something useful to do when we are on the bus. You can teach me drums, I can teach you bass, we are gonna be better musicians, it’s a win, win situation."

Mikey looked so excited about his idea Joey didn’t want to break the dream. Besides, it felt like he was making a project out of his whole idea, something to keep his mind entertained. And that sounded like a nice plan. Better than drinking himself to sleep most of the nights.

- "I’m not gonna convince you to change your mind, am I?"- she asked and giggled, staring at her friend’s serious face.

- "Nop"- he quickly answered, making sure the last “p” sounded loud, as it would make a statement or whatever.

- "Fine… but I’ll pay you back."

- "Oh, you are paying for it"- he quickly replied- "But not with money, I really want those drums lessons."

Gerard stared at the scene and sighed. His brother wrapped an arm around Joey’s neck as they walked to pick up her bass. He was jealous and worried at the same time. He was jealous of how close he was with her and how much he trusted her. Gee felt left aside from his problems. Joey had spent more time with his brother than him in the latest weeks. Ever since they met, actually. Why didn’t he trust his older brother anymore?

The bass they picked was a tidepool Player Jaguar Fender. Mikey carried it to his car and smiled proudly. Gerard took a Fender Rumble 15, and Joey just smiled embarrassedly.

- "You didn’t have to buy the amp"- she whispered to Gerard.

- "You can’t play bass without an amp"- he simply replied and smiled- "Besides, you can always pay me back in drum lessons too"- the girl chuckled, blushed, and looked at her friends.

- "Ok, kids, lunch is on me. You two deserve Joey’s signature menu for being this nice to me"- she grinned and got into the car.

- "And where are we going?"- Mikey sat behind the wheel and turned to her, just as Gerard, from the passenger seat

- "To my house, I am cooking you mi especialidad: bandeja paisa"- the Way brothers frowned and looked at each other- "Just come and eat like porks with me, ok?"

- "Fine"- Mikey answered and chuckled- "Are you gonna go all Latina on us?"

- "You better be sure I am."

- "I’ve never seen you like that"- Gerard said and looked at her again. She blushed and closed her eyes, embarrassed.

- "Well, I have, and it’s fucking weird!"- Mikey answered to his brother- "And when she starts mixing English, Icelandic, and Spanish… damn it!"

- "Vinsamlegast þegiðu! (Please shut up!)"- the girl shouted and hit Mikey’s shoulder- "Odio Cuando dices eso! (I hate it when you do that)"

- "See?"- the bassist turned to his friend- "It’s fucking weird."

- "Let’s take a selfie and send it to Frank and dad"- Joey said and looked for her phone in her bag. But never found it- "Oh fuck! Matthew has it"- she whispered and sighed.

Suddenly she remembered she had given it to him, and it bothered her to know she had given away some power to please a guy. Fuck, she deeply regretted doing that.

- "Let’s use my phone"- Gerard said and pointed the camera at them- "Ok, smile!!"

- "Say cheese!!"- Joey grinned, and the Way brother smiled- "Dad is gonna love that! He said he missed us too, he actually invited me to stay with him in Jersey while we rehearsed for the concert"- the girl said and looked outside the window- "I think it would be nice, I’ve never been to Jersey"- she kept talking, more to herself than to her friends.

- "You can stay with me too if you want"- Mikey said, and Gerard turned to him, scowling- "I mean, I’m gonna be home with our parents…"

- "That sounds so fucking weird, Michael James"- and Joey burst out laughing- "But though I love the idea of having a sleepover at your parents, Matthew is coming with me that weekend"- Gerard’s frown grew bigger.

- "Bug, tell me the truth"- Mikey said after a while. The radio was on, and the three of them had been basically just humming a few songs as they made their way to Joey’s house.

- "Shoot"

- "Matthew hates me, right?"

- "Why would you say that?"

- "‘Cos he looks like he hates me"

- "Of course not!"- the girl lied right away and snorted- "He is just shocked we got along so quickly."

- "Oh"- Mikey made a pause and chuckled- "So he really hates me."

- "No! I mean it!"

- "I think that’s a yes"- Gerard said to his brother and nodded.

- "Well… I guess I won’t be watching Criminal Minds anymore."

Matthew could hear Joey laughing from the hallway. She wasn’t alone. There were other voices and some music too. What the fuck was going on? He wasn’t thrilled at all ‘cos he had been calling his girlfriend the whole day and her phone was off. But this was too much for him to handle with a cold head. But he had to breathe and trust her.

- "Hey! What are you doing?"- he opened the door and glared at the Way brothers. Mikey was sitting behind Joey’s electric drum while she held a bass. Gerard was sitting on her couch, laughing. Well, not anymore, at least.

- "Akumu!! How was your day? Did you have fun meeting and greeting people?"- she quickly stood up, almost jumping and running to him, wrapping her arms around him.

- "It was ok…"- she kissed him sweetly and kept smiling- "What are you guys doing?"

- "I invited the guys for lunch, and we just stayed here playing for a while"- she simply answered.

- "I’ve been calling you the whole day, but you didn’t pick up"- Joey raised an eyebrow and looked into her boyfriend’s eyes.

- "Akumu, you’ve got my phone, remember?"- and Matthew Gray Gubler wanted to slap himself. The only thing he could do was be the nicest and sweetest, not jealous boyfriend he could be.

- "Shit!"- and Joey just nodded- "I’m so sorry!"

- "I know, so, wanna join us?"

- "Actually, I think we should go"- Gerard said and stood up- "I’ve got to pick up my wife from an event, “liar, liar pants on fire,” and Mikey has to drive me over"

Gee turned to his brother, and he nodded.

- "Yeah, and we better hurry ‘cos we are late"- he added and grabbed all his things- "I’m taking this"- he said and grabbed the bass he had left in her house- "You better practice."

- "Guys, you don’t have to run out just ‘cos I got here"- Matthew smiled- "We could hang out for a while."

- "I saved you some bandeja paisa"- Joey whispered, and her boyfriend’s smile grew bigger.

- "I love you so much."

- "Yeah, I know, I’m awesome"

- "Thank you, Matthew, but we really have to go"- Gerard shook his hand and smiled- "But Joey said you would come with us to the show in New York."

- "Yeah! I am! I feel like shit, I still can’t get to see my girl in action"- he smiled and wrapped an arm around Joey’s shoulders. She hated when he called her “his girl.” She wasn’t his, or anyone’s, as a matter of fact. That was one of the reasons why she hadn’t have a serious relationship before.

- "We’ll see you there then"- Gerard assured- "We’ll show you Jersey, Joey said she was dying to see where we hid all the mafia corpses"- and the girl chuckled

- "You keep trying to sell it for me, but dude, I’m sold!!"- Gerard laughed at Joey’s words and stared at her in silence for a few seconds until he realized Matthew was there. He didn’t want him to know or even suspect how he felt about his girlfriend.

- "Thank you for everything, guys"- the girl walked them to the door with a warm smile on her face- "You are the best!"

- "Nah"- Mikey hugged her and messed her hair pretty much at the same time- "You’ve been a great little sister. Thank you for coming along!"

- "See you when I come back from Seattle."

- "Yeah, we have to practice!"- the youngest Way shook Matthew’s hand and said goodbye. Gerard did the same, wished them a safe trip, and walked out of the apartment. He and his brother walked in silence until they reached the car.

- "Dude!"- Mikey finally said when he started the car- "That guy hates the shit out of me!"

- "He was going to kill us when he walked in! What the fuck is his problem?"

- "I don’t know!! He has to death jealous"

- "Well, so would I"- Gerard thought out loud and noticed he had to add something in case his brother would think the wrong thing, which would be actually the right thing.

- "I mean, if my girl hung out with four dudes, I barely know and travel the world with them, I would be jealous too."

- "Maybe"- Mikey gave it a little thinking and nodded- "Maybe when they are back, we could invite them out for diner or something, that way he can know us and figure out we don’t wanna bang his girlfriend."

- "Yeah, sure, that would be helpful"- Gerard Way was full of shit.

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#Matthew Gray Gubler #MCR #My Chemical romance #gerard way #frank iero #mikey way #babymetadoll writes #ray toro #mgg fanfiction #mgg x y/N #matthew gray gubler x you #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler smut

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julie-and-the-himbo-ghosts · 4 years ago

Text

It Started With a Whisper

I posted this on ao3 a few days ago but never had the time to post it here so here y’all go!!

Summary: After Julie and her Phantoms rescued Willie from Caleb, Alex starts to feel like his and Willie’s relationship is a little off. They talk about it, go on Museum Not-Date Part 2: The Electric Boogaloo, and everything works out okay for the anxious gay drummer and the skater boy.

Words: 1794

Content warnings: Alex has some anxiety briefly (not an anxiety attack but still), a few mild swears

“It started with a whisper /

And that was when I kissed her /

And then she made my lips hurt”

~~~

It started after they rescued Willie from Caleb for good. Alex and Willie’s relationship was the same, nothing had changed between them from their hug in front of the Orpheum and the moment Alex had pulled them out of the Hollywood Ghost Club himself.

But he couldn’t help but notice something.

They still hung around each other and went on little adventures together, but these days Alex was more likely to hang out with Willie and some of the band than just Willie himself. They still went on little outings together, but they never screamed in the museum together or disappeared for hours at a time just talking to each other.

Nothing had changed in the time between their hug outside the Orpheum and when Alex rescued Willie from the Club, yet everything had changed.

Alex missed them. God, he missed Willie so much.

So he decided to do something about it.

~~~

Alex waited for everyone to start filing out of the studio for a post-practice lunch before he laid a hand on Willie’s shoulder.

“Hey,” He said. “Can we talk?”

They turned their head just slightly to look back at him, and Alex watched as a succession of little emotions played across his face like Saturday cartoons. Confusing, curiosity, worry, and other microexpressions that passed too quickly for him to read.

“It’s nothing bad,” He assured him quickly, and Willie’s face softened slightly.

They both stood there for a second, waiting for Luke, Reggie, and Julie to make their way out of the studio. Julie shot him a quick look before she walked out the door, silently asking him if he needed her, and he just shook his head and watched the door click close behind his bandmates.

“I’ve…” Alex trailed off as he realized he didn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to say ‘We aren’t as close anymore’ and ‘I miss you’ and ‘I think I want us to be more than friends’ without sounding like an idiot?

Well, he thought, just like that.

“I’ve noticed we don’t hang out as much as we used to,” He continued. More unreadable emotions passed over Willie’s face. “And I love hanging out with you and the band, you’re all my family, but I just… I miss the times where it was just us. Just us, hanging out in the skatepark or screaming in museums. You know?” A slight, small smile grew on Willie’s face, and he felt himself doing the same. “So, I, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go out again, after lunch? Shit, not like out out, but like hang out, not ‘going out’ like a date or anything—” God, why did he have to be so awkward?

Willie put him out of his misery, smiling warmly at him. “I got you, hotdog.”

And wow, did that shut his brain down. They hadn’t called him that in a long time, not since the day Alex and the band rescued them from Caleb, and his brain was full of just “oh my God he called me ‘hotdog’ oh my God he called me ‘hot dog’ oh my God he—”

Say something, his brain scolded him, and he just scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “That’s— Great. Perfect. Okay.” Pull it together, Mercer! “So I’ll, uh, see you back here after lunch, then?”

Willie beamed at him. “It’s a date, hotdog.”

Alex couldn’t help but think that, in that moment, he was the happiest he’d been in a long time.

~~~

“So, where’re we going?” Willie asked as he shut the Molina’s front door.

Alex waited until they caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs to say anything. He opened his mouth to say something coherent, but then Willie was staring straight back into his eyes just a few feet away from him and his anxiety exploded.

There was no reason to be nervous, he knew; Willie was one of the people he trusted the most and they were just hanging out as friends. Well, “as friends” meaning “inviting him to go on a kinda-date because he wanted to confess his crush on them because he’s sad they haven’t hung out as much lately” friends.

So, like, not “friends” at all, he thought.

Willie cleared his throat, and he was sure that his head snapped up in a moment.

Shit shit shit they probably think I don’t actually want to hang out and I’m just being polite—

“You look like Ray just caught you sneaking out,” They chuckled.

And suddenly, there was a warm weight on his hand and Willie’s hand was slotted into his.

“So where are we going, then, hotdog?”

“It’s a surprise.” God, he hoped he didn’t sound as dumb as he thought he did.

Willie just smiled at him again. “Well then, let’s go!”

He tried to ignore the butterflies floundering in his chest as he teleported them both off the porch.

~~~

Alex poofed them into the museum and stood there for a moment while Willie figured out where they were. It only took a moment for someone to walk right through them, but they kept their hold on Alex’s hand.

“The museum, huh?” Willie said, a teasing note in his voice. “Are you recreating our first date?”

Alex’s brain short-circuited. He meant it as a joke, he tried to convince himself, they didn’t really mean it.

“Yeah,” He said quietly.

He gently tugged Willie over to the same bench they skated over the first time they went there together.

“Wow, I guess they never moved the bench back,” They tried to joke, but it just fell flat. “So, uh, what did you wanna talk about?”

This is it, his brain yelled at him, and it felt like his senses were turned up to eleven. He could feel every inch of his clothing hugging his body, the coolness of the cement bench, the soft warmth of their hand covering his; he could hear every single person’s voice in the museum, the hummm of the air conditioning somewhere up in the ceiling, his heart flailing in his chest, his breaths rattling in his chest.

He could also hear Willie’s gentle, concerned voice. “You okay, Alex?”

He didn’t respond, his brain overworked with all the sounds and textures around him.

The world bent around him, and suddenly they were outside the museum again and Willie’s arm was around his shoulder. The world quieted around him, and the only thing he felt on his body was Willie’s warmth.

“It’s okay,” They said, leaning their head on his shoulder. “You alright, Alex?”

“Yeah.” His voice was raspy.

“You sure? We can go home if you want to. You don’t have to do this now.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The museum was just a bit much with all the people in it.”

“It’s more fun when there aren’t people around.” It was quiet for a second, and then: “Are you okay with telling me why you got so anxious in there?”

“It was just…” He trailed off, trying to find the right way to say it. “We haven’t hung out together in a while, you know? I mean, it’s not like we haven’t seen each other in ages, but it’s been awhile since it’s been just us. And I miss it, I miss us. And then I was so stressed about having a good time—” He left out the part about freaking out over the word “date”— “and there were way more people there than I expected and it was all a little too much.”

“Yeah, I get that,” He said. “You know you don’t have to work hard - or even work at all - when we’re hanging out together, right? I like hanging out with you . It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, it only matters that I’m with you, you know?” His teeth made a little click as he shut his mouth suddenly, and something clicked in Alex’s head.

He might actually feel the same way as I do.

“I was— I was also stressed earlier because I wanted to talk to you about something but I was too scared— too anxious to bring it up.” He started, and Willie raised an eyebrow at him. He took that as encouragement. “I did invite you over here because I miss hanging out with you, I’ll always miss hanging out with you, but it wasn’t just that I missed you as a friend. I mean, of course you’re one of my closest friends, that’s not what I meant, but I just—” He took a deep breath. “I see you as more than a friend? God, it’s not even a question, I don’t know why I phrased it that way, it’s one of the definite things in my life. One, my friends are my family, two, there’s nothing that my drums can’t fix, and three, I’ve had this totally ridiculous crush on you since the moment you flipped your hair out of your helmet and sent me into a gay panic spiral, and four, I would really, really like to be your boyfriend and go on dates with you and do dumb, stereotypical couple-y shit together.”

He finally stopped, catching his breath and waiting for Willie to say something. And for the longest time, he didn’t say anything and his anxiety started to spike again. “Of course, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to do any of that, we can just go back to being friends, but I just wanted to—” He had started to whisper, but Willie didn’t let him finish his sentence.

Before he knew it, their lips were on his and he was kissing Willie, oh my God he was kissing Willie, and everything melted away. While in the museum, it felt like his senses were dialled up to eleven and everything was pushing at him, but then, his senses were only tuned to Willie, to their hand gently cupping his chin, their faces pushed together in an awkward, perfect kiss, and their long hair tickling his face.

The kiss ended as quickly as it started, and Alex found himself immediately missing his warmth.

“In case I wasn’t clear, I wanna do all that ‘couple-y shit’ with you, too.” Willie’s voice was quiet, only just loud enough for him to hear. “And I especially want to be your boyfriend.”

“I think we can manage something like that,” He said with a grin.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them said anything else, Alex just drew him into another gentle kiss.

“It started with a whisper /

And that was when I kissed her /

And then she made my lips hurt”

~~~

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed): @rawwwra, @sylphrenas, @boggie-brainrot, @thegaylink, @julie-n-phantoms, @julie-and-the-queers, @im-not-fine

#kates writing again #julie and the phantoms #jatp #netflixwewantjatp2 #alex mercer #willex #willie nolastname #willie wilbur williamson #jatp fic #willex fic

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girlboss-molina · 4 years ago

Text

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 8: Rules of Engagement

AO3 Link

Words: 8988

-----

Julie POV

…

Julie remembered the day they’d first announced the marriage. She, Ray, Carlos, and Reggie were visiting Tambor, before Queen Claire and King Xavier had sprung the question on them. Ray had vehemently disagreed, but they’d insisted that he raise it to the council. And when it passed, Julie remembered the exact green glow of the screens reflecting on her dad’s face, and she’d shaken her head, stormed out of the Tamborian royal office with Alex right behind her, angry tears streaming down her face as she’d ran back to her room.

She and Alex were pissed. They were angry, scared, sad, horrified, and betrayed. Alex especially. He’d never come out to his parents, but he’d still explained how horrible he felt, as if his parents were doing it to spite him.

There had been lots of not-so-royal language used that day, and today was no different.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Julie shouted, not caring if her walls weren’t soundproof. She’d stayed silent the whole walk back to her room with Alex and the brief passing of Reggie, who’d gotten the details from Alex. Now it was her time to freak out.

“I’m officially ready to fake my death, Lex,” she decided, fists by her sides. She hated this. Since when did they get to control her life? It was her life, for God’s sake! Princess or not, nobody should have to be in an arranged marriage.

Her voice choked.

“I’m not, really,” she admitted, “but I want to. If it means we get to run our own goddamn lives, I”ll do it.” She tore a hand through her hair and blinked back tears to no avail.

“I’m so sorry,” Julie finally said. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

“Neither do you.” Alex mussed his hair and sat on the end of her bed as she paced. “It’s majorly fucked up.”

“It really is! I didn’t choose to be Princess Julie Molina, Heiress to the throne of Dahlia.” She said her own long title in a faux posh voice, gagging at the sound and bile rising in her throat. She walked into her bathroom, fixing her hair to be natural and down, nothing braided or tied. Angrily scrubbing tears away, Julie stalked to her closet and changed into sweatpants and a big t-shirt, not bothering to pick up her suit off the floor.

“We have to raise major hell for the council members who voted for this,” Alex decided as she walked back out.

“As much as possible,” she agreed.

Worn out, she flopped next to him. He wrapped his arm around her and she squeezed him in a friendly hug, letting his head rest on her shoulder. She felt a tear soak through her shirt, but didn’t care. He needed this.

“Fucking hell,” he said.

“Amen to that.” That elicited a halfhearted laugh, and Julie smiled a bit.

“It’ll be okay,” she finally said.

“No, it won’t. But we’ll survive.”

“Yeah.”

…

“Ow, Mira!” Julie exclaimed, trying not to move as Mira quickly moved the pin by her side as she marked the fabric for the outline of her wedding dress. It was a very tedious process; Julie looked like she was wrapped in giant pieces of fabric and lace… because she pretty much was. Mira and two other tailors were taking exact measurements to make sure the dress fit perfectly, then they would sew it and make adjustments as needed.

Unfortunately, that meant Julie had to stand very, very still and hope she wouldn’t get stabbed by the needles.

She wasn’t having much luck.

If she’d counted correctly, Mira (and the other girls, Soleil and Jenna), had accidentally poked her twelve times, in varying places, but generally around the side, waist, and shoulders.

“Sorry!” Mira said through her teeth. “Just trying to get this fitted properly.”

“It’s okay,” she sighed, doing her best not to slouch. MIra’s hands fell.

“If you want to talk about it…”

“Thanks.” In all honesty, she did not- especially since she didn’t know Soleil or Jenna very well, and didn’t want to spill her guts about hating the wedding when they were around. Plus… talking about it just made it more real.

“Your highness, this dress is going to be stunning on you,” noted Soleil excitedly, further proving her point.

“I bet,” she said with as much faux enthusiasm as she could muster. “You guys are incredible.”

“Aww, thanks!” replied Jenna. Julie gave a smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything else.

…

After the grueling process of getting legally stabbed by her best friend over and over with tiny blades for the purpose of creating a goddamn wedding dress, Julie changed into more comfortable clothes; a t- shirt and jeans.

There was going to be a storm blowing in tonight, so she figured she may as well go outside before she would end up soaked. But, who would she find sulking in the field but a certain snarky gay?

She stood for a moment, watching him pick at the grass, before finally sighing.

“Why don’t we go work on a song?” she suggested. “I can get Luke and Reggie, plus the rest of the group if you want, and we can work out some stress.” Alex shrugged. Julie waited for a few minutes, hating how depressed he was. She was too, of course, but what kind of friend would she be if she let one of her best friends sit alone and feel sorry for himself? Besides, she was aching to work on song.

“Alright,” he finally replied, and Julie smiled.

“Awesome.” She stuck her hands in her pockets

“Let’s go, drummer boy.”

…

Playing the piano had always been therapeutic for Julie, until her mom passed away. Then she’d hardly been able to listen to any music without being reminded of her. But she was back on her groove, and the keys were familiar in the way you could sink into your best friend’s arms and know you were home.

She played the opening chords and began to sing, closing her eyes and feeling like it was just her and the piano in a universe of music and colors.

When Luke, Reggie, and Alex jumped in at the chorus, she opened her eyes and jumped up with the mic, dancing around as she belted out each note with more conviction than before. She walked around the room as she sang, dancing with Reggie, Alex, and Luke. She wandered over to where the rest of the group was sitting and dancing along, and she gave Willie a high-five as she passed him.

Luke sang the second prechorus with her, and the smile on his face only grew. THey harmonized each note, voices melding together as the music rose and Alex jumped in with the drums as they went into the next chorus, singing an ode to hope and persistence.

During the bridge, Luke held her gaze the entire time, and her heart soared as she belted out the last bridge note, riffing as the others held the background vocals.

When the song ended, her hair was frizzy and heart pounding, but she felt alive and free. She fistbumped Reggie, grinning, and hugging Flynn, who told her over and over that they were incredible, and that she was assigning herself the role of band manager. Carrie had automatically volunteered to be the costume designer, and Mira had taken offense to that, because “I’m literally her lady-in-waiting, Wilson!”

Julie couldn’t help but laugh at her friends.

“Okay,” Flynn finally said, “girl time.” Julie laughed but agreed, waving to the guys as she wrapped her arms around Flynn’s and Mira’s shoulders, Carrie on Flynn’s other side.

They walked out of the studio and wandered all throughout the palace, chattering mindlessly about everything and nothing. Mira insisted that mint chocolate chip ice cream was the superior ice cream, to which Flynn retorted “totally! Like, are you ever eating chocolate and you think ‘hey, you know what would go great with this? Toothpaste!’” Carrie had promptly lost her shit, and Julie was the only one on team rocky road.

“Personally,” Carrie said, “I-”

“We know, you like neapolitan you fucking lesbian,” Flynn said with a grin. Carrie gasped in mock offense.

“Hypocrisy at its finest! You’re just as lesbian as they come.”

“I never claimed to not be a hypocrite,” Flynn defended. Carrie huffed and crossed her arms.

“I’m breaking up with you. We’re broken up now.”

“Fine, but I get custody of Julie!”

“Wait, since when am I your child?”

“Since we’re both older than you,” they told her in unison.

“Uh huh, yeah, by a couple weeks! I’m a legal adult, and neither of you get custody of me.”

“I’m disowning you,” Carrie declared.

“Me too,” agreed Flynn.

“Me three,” Mira chimed in.

“Oh for the love of-”

Their playful bickering continued for at least an hour, wandering the long halls of the palace, weaving in and out of corridors and dragging their hands along railings.

The wedding never crossed Julie’s mind once.

Despite the whole situation, they still managed to be lighthearted and have useless arguments, bicker and love each other all the same. Julie hugged them closer, relishing the warmth of having them close to her. Carrie’s strawberry shampoo was faintly there and she breathed it in, calming immediately. Flynn linked their pinkies together, and Mira kept her hand on Julie’s shoulder. Julie didn’t realize she was crying until Flynn asked if she was okay.

“Yeah,” she said, and it was strangely true. She wiped her eyes. “I’m not even upset right now, but I’m still crying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I do,” Carrie informed her.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Absolutely nothing.”

-----

Reggie POV

…

Reggie sat in the studio, suit vest draped over an empty guitar stand as he sat on the piano bench, sleeves rolled to his elbows and hands on the keys, silent but arranging themselves in chords. He hummed to himself quietly, sighing and closing his eyes.

As he played the first chord, soulful and melancholy, he started to sing.

“We’re no strangers to the dark

Every time we find the light

But no matter how much it hurts

Glowsticks have to break before they shine.”

He closed his eyes, letting the chords play only from muscle memory. Normally, he didn’t do much songwriting on his own, but this song, Glowsticks, was one that he’d written for Julie after Rose’s passing. He’d never gotten around to giving it to her, though, because of how much her love for music was affected. For a year, she hadn’t played or sang a note, and he knew that it would’ve been too painful.

Eventually, he’d forgotten about it.

But when he’d seen the heartbroken look on her face the hour before, coming back from the royal office with dry eyes but hollow and chipped, the memory of the page he’d torn out of his journal and stuffed in a drawer came flooding back.

And now here he was, like it was only yesterday he’d written the chords, shaky with tears but determined. This time, his eyes were dry and his hands steady, but his heart ached for Julie, for Alex, for Luke, for Willie.

His voice started out lighter and airy, with a slight rasp as he played the soft melody along with the base, but as he reached the second chorus, his voice sank to his chest, belting out the lyrics and playing the piano strongly, chords echoing in the soundproof room, the acoustics bending his voice to all angles until he was wrapped in a song of tragedy and pain and strength and hope, earthy and rich but airy and light.

“So breathe

Just breathe

You're already shining

You can break

You’ll be okay

I'll keep you safe until you rise.”

His breath shook as he flipped the last word from a powerful chest voice to a soft, airy falsetto, sighing as he played the last, low chord.

Reggie left his eyes closed, slowly taking his hands off the keys, resting his elbows on his knees and turning, finally letting the light pierce his eyes.

…

“Your highness,” called a palace staff member. “If I could steal you for a few minutes, could you give your opinions on possible place settings for the wedding?”

“Yeah sure,” Reggie replied, standing from the large leather couch in the palace living room, doing his best to smile at the young man. He was tall, and muscularly built, but his freckles, wide brown eyes, and messy red hair were proof that he was probably the human embodiment of sunshine.

“We were thinking white with gold accents,” he said, swiping through a few photos on his tablet. Reggie did his best to pay attention; they were, admittedly, beautiful. Soft white tablecloths and napkins lined with plates, each plate with gold paint on the rim, the wine glasses clear cut crystal, the same golden lining as the plates.

“That’s beautiful,” Reggie agreed. “Julie and Alex would love that.”

“I’m glad you think so! My advisor was skeptical, but I think it’s a nice scheme.”

“I do too.” He looked away, hating that he was giving suggestions for his sister’s unwanted wedding.

“Your highness, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he assured him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Sure,” he said softly. “Did you have any thoughts for flowers?”

“Dahlias,” Reggie said after a moment. “They were our mom’s favorite, and they’re Julie’s favorite too. I think she’d like purple.”

“Purple dahlias,” the man repeated. He opened an interior design modeling app, dragging tables around the virtual room and adding glass vases with bouquets of dahlias, plus the occasional orchid scattered throughout. Reggie stared in awe; even though it was just a digital rendition of the ballroom, it was gorgeous. The crackled marble floors shone in the light of lanterns and string lights, adorned with pillars and tables arranged in neat rows. He felt like he was in the ballroom, getting a peek at the future.

And yet, his heart sank.

It seemed to do that a lot lately.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Reggie met the man’s eyes. “You seem pretty down.” He sighed.

“I am, but I’ll be okay.”

“Alright. I’m Elliot, by the way.”

“I’m Reggie! Nice to meet you.”

“You too!”

…

“Dad, are you sure there’s no way to stop the wedding?” Reggie had gone to see Ray in the royal office an hour ago, to discuss an assortment of things, but always returning to the wedding.

“I’m sure. I hate it as much as you do, believe me, but I’ve explored every option.” Reggie shook his head.

“There has to be something-”

“Mijo, you can look all you want, but there’s nothing we can safely do. Even though there are multiple ways to stop the wedding, it wouldn’t be safe. There would be tension between Dahlia and Tambor, maybe even Krypto. Best case scenario would be rumors and unrest in our own kingdom, but even with that, Julie and Alex would be the subject of a ton of scandal for the rest of their lives.”

“I just hate it.”

“Believe me, I do too. I’ve done everything in my power, but I can’t endanger millions of people.”

“I know. And Julie wouldn’t want you to, either.”

“Exactly.” Ray pulled him into a hug, and Reggie buried his head in his shoulder. “Mijo, I’m so sorry. You’re a good brother.”

“Thanks,” he whispered. Ray nodded.

Someone knocked on the door. Reggie pulled out of the hug and, when Ray nodded again, he opened the door to see a short woman with pale skin and straight, dark hair reaching her shoulders, and bangs brushing her eyebrows. Her wide eyes were behind round glasses, and she gave a bright smile.

“Ah, Prince Reginald, just who I wanted to see! I’m Esther Pearlridge of the Dahlian Times. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions regarding your sister’s upcoming wedding?” Reggie glanced at his dad, who didn’t object, but gave him a look that seemed to say, it’ll be okay.

“Sure.”

“Your majesty,” Esther said to Ray, “you’re welcome to come along.” He agreed, and Reggie was eternally grateful.

…

“Your highness-”

“Please, call me Reggie,” he told her. Esther smiled.

“Reggie, the news of the wedding’s date being moved up came as a pleasant surprise to everyone across Dahlia, and surely Tamborian citizens as well. What are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Well,” he began, clearing his throat. “It’s definitely a unique situation. And while it is exciting, what a lot of people don’t consider is how stressful it must be for Princess Julie and Prince Alex. I mean, Alex is my age, Julie about a year younger. Arranged marriages are already very fraught situations, but this one especially.”

Ray smiled from his position behind Esther, letting him know he’d played it well.

“Of course,” she replied sympathetically. “That is a perspective that not many people consider.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel about Prince Alexander?”

“Oh, Alex is great! He’s quickly become one of my closest friends. Although, his taste in Star Wars characters is questionable. Everyone knows Han Solo is the best, right Esther?”

“Obviously! Though, I was always partial to Leia, myself.”

“Valid,” Reggie agreed.

“Moving on to the next question, what do you think will come of Prince Alexander becoming the Dahlian Prince Consort as your sister, Princess Julie, ascends to the throne?”

“Well, Dahlia is currently doing amazing. Homelessness rates are at an all-time low and still dropping; at this rate, they’re projected to reach zero by next Summer. Wealth equality is stabilizing even more, and our education system is constantly being revised and reviewed by scientists and historians to make sure the content is correct and unbiased, as well as by child psychologists to make them good learning environments for students. And our environmental status is one of the best in the world, second to the Republic of Isala. Greenhouse gases in our region are extremely low, and the CO2 levels are dropping as our reforestation teams plant more and more trees along the grasslands.

“Knowing my sister, and Prince Alex, I have no doubt that they will lead our country further into the future. Especially Julie; she may be a princess, but take it from her brother: she’s stubborn as all hell, but always about the right things. She and Alex will face struggles, as all people do, but I’m positive they’ll do great things.”

“That’s so nice to hear. And from other people, we’ve heard that they expect Princess Julie to be the best, most connected ruler in Dahlian history. Do you think this is true?”

“I would expect it to be, yeah! Julie really tries to connect with people, and tries to see things through others’ points of view. She’s always done that. She doesn’t want to stay secluded in a palace; honestly, I doubt anyone could keep her here if they tried.”

Esther laughed. “If I may ask, how are preparations for the wedding going?” Reggie fought the rising sadness in his chest.

“They’re going great! Although I’m pretty sure Julie’s gotten stabbed a few hundred times by the needles her lady-in-waiting is using to fit her dress.” Esther laughed again.

“Well, that’s all the time we have. Thank you so much, your highness. Always a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Yeah, you too! Thanks.”

As Esther rushed away, laptop under her arm and a pencil over her ear, Ray gave Reggie a warm smile.

“You did perfect,” he told him. “Excellently played.”

“Thanks. I just wish I actually felt as optimistic as I sounded.”

“It’ll be okay. I’m sure of it.”

-----

Willie POV

…

Willie’s phone buzzed with a text from Julie, with a request for their group to meet in her room, and if her tone was any indication, it wasn’t good. He ran to his quarters, doing his best to brush the flour Lilian had thrown at him after a witty remark out of his hair. Changing into a sweater and jeans, he made his way up the curving staircase and down the long hallway before knocking gently at Julie’s door.

“Come in.”

He walked in, heart sinking when he saw the upset look on Alex’s face.

“What happened?” Carrie asked from behind him, walking in with Flynn by her side. They were soon followed by Luke, Reggie, Erik, and MIra.

“They moved up the wedding,” Julie finally said, her fists curled. Willie’s heart dropped all the way to the ground, leaving his veins pumping blood made by nothing more than an organ beating rhythmically, called the heart but only doing what was necessary for physical survival. His actual heart, his emotions and love and memories, all froze, and he shook his head vigorously, forcing it to settle back in the center of his chest, taking a deep breath.

“Why?” he had to ask. Alex snorted.

“My parents gave an ultimatum disguised as helpful advice.” Each word was dripping with venom, but there was sadness behind it. Willie took his hand, feeling him clutch back as if he were the only thing holding him together.

“And there’s nothing you can do to stop it?” Flynn asked. “I mean, you and Jules are the Prince of Tambor and Princess of Dahlia. There has to be something you can do… right?” Julie shook her head.

“Nope. There’s been so much buildup and excitement that there might be riots and tension between our countries if we called it off so abruptly. We can’t risk anyone getting hurt.”

“Okay, but-”

“Mira, treason would definitely get people hurt.”

“Jules,” Mira said, “you have a good heart. It’s super annoying.” Willie cracked a grin at that, as did Alex.

“Even then, though,” Alex cut in, “my parents clearly want this. And they’re super influential. I wouldn’t even be surprised if they threatened trade routes but made it seem like it was for the ‘greater good.’”

“I hate to admit it,” Reggie said, “but he’s right. Sweet words can be even more dangerous than declarations of war. Especially if they twist the blame.”

…

After another hour of scheming, ranting, and trying to lighten the mood, Alex fell asleep near the wall in Julie’s room, curled up against a pillow. Willie watched him softly breathe, looking so much more peaceful in rest.

“We should let him rest,” Julie said. “It’s not like our group hasn’t done slumber parties before.”

“Yeah,” Carrie agreed. “He needs sleep.”

“All of us do,” Erik pointed out. Willie nodded, sitting next to Alex and putting his hand on his shoulder. Everyone found a spot and drifted off, and Willie had a feeling he was the last one awake. But, soon, he was able to curl up against Alex and find himself in a deep, dreamless sleep.

…

Willie had never been so grateful that he hadn’t been asked to bake.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle baking wedding cake samples for this situation. Any other time, sure, but not when the guy he was in love with was being forced to marry their other friend, neither of whom were interested.

He stared at the mirror, eyes blank. He hated the numbness overtaking him. He’d done his best to stay positive, to remember all the tips he’d picked up for focusing and not getting dragged under, and while they’d worked to some extent, he couldn’t deny the fracture in his heart. They were powerless; ironic, considering they were all either royal or close acquaintances of royals.

But, even with all of that supposed power at their fingertips, they couldn’t do the one thing they wanted to.

He wasn’t sure just how long he stared blankly at his reflection, but when his phone buzzed with a text from Julie, telling their group that they were going to practice in the studio, he made himself plaster on a smile and go join them. He hadn’t seen Alex play a full song before; this should be fun.

When Julie started the song, her powerful piano playing moved the whole room, voice strong and bright as she sang the first verse. Then, in the prechorus, she led into the big, adrenaline-pumping beat with a riff and belt,before finally going into the chorus. But all Willie could see wasAlex, whose face was a bit red from playing the drums, hair falling in his eyes,his pink t-shirt rather tight against his biceps. Willie was sure he was blushing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

As Alex held the beat, Willie tapped his foot and grinned, letting the upbeat song envelop him despite their melancholy circumstances. Julie and Luke belted out the lyrics, harmonizing with such grace that Willie wasn’t convinced that soulmates didn’t exist; if they did, Julie and Luke fit the model. And Alex and Reggie sang the background vocals flawlessly, adding depth to the song with their steady music.

When the song ended, Willie’s heart was pounding. He clapped with the rest of the group, standing up, but unable to speak. God, Alex had such an insane effect on him. Normally he was smooth, able to recover and flip around. He’d thought it impossible to fluster him; but, then again, Alex had a rather annoying habit of making the impossible seem like child’s play.

Then, Alex ran his hand through his hair in an unfairly hot way - the inconsiderate bastard. Willie did his best to settle his blush, but to no avail. He giggled as Alex tried to brush off a compliment but finally accepted it.

He stammered through a compliment, hating how flustered he was. And then, because the universe had it out for him, Alex pulled him in and kissed his temple. If Willie hadn’t already melted, that would’ve been the tipping point.

Somehow, though, he found the ability to breathe again.

…

“Dude, I can’t say this enough,” Willie stressed, “that was amazing! You guys seriously need to go on tour.” Alex’s musical laugh filled the air.

“Flynn has already assigned herself band manager. With her ‘in charge,’ we’ll probably be playing gig after gig- well, you know, when Julie isn’t busy running a country.” WIllie laughed.

“Yeah, fair point. But still! Your guys’s song is going to be stuck in my head forever.”

“Forever?”

“I have ADHD, ‘Lex. Don’t underestimate the song sticking.” It was true; ADHD had its pros and cons, but one aspect that seemed to be both was his brain’s innate ability to have twenty-nine songs stuck all at once, and the strange fact that the How to Train your Dragon main theme, Kahoot music, Beethoven’s 5th Symphony, Roses by The Band CAMINO, and Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) could all be combined to the same tempo- and the fact that it slapped.

As they walked through the long, windowed corridors, Willie got an idea. He grabbed Alex’s hand.

“Follow me!”

“What? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see!” They raced all the way to the west side of the palace, where Willie led him up a narrow flight of stairs, pushing open a door to reveal-

“Whoa,” Alex gasped in awe. “The roof?”

“The roof,” Willie agreed. “Cooler than you’d expect, huh?”

“Way.” Willie grinned; it was a beautiful view. The river curved and rushed around the bases of snow-capped mountains with forests decorating their slopes, and as he turned, the capital city of Dahlia was nestled between rolling hills, thousands of lights sparkling in houses, apartments, shops, restaurants, and offices. Headlights danced along the highways, and the striking comparison of the bright lights versus the dark, cloudy sky made for a dramatic view.

“Storm’s blowing in,” Willie observed as it began to pour, soaking his hair. Alex cracked up.

“You sure?” he asked. “This is the best weather this side of Constantinople.”

“Ah, but remember, now it’s Istanbul- not Constantinople.”

“Well, why did Constantinople get the works?” Willie giggled.

“That’s nobody’s business but the Turks.”

“You are such a dork,” Alex informed him, pulling him closer.

“I know!” He had to raise his voice over the rain, and Alex’s cheeks were flushed with the cold. Willie felt a calm rush of confidence wash over him with the falling rain, and he stood on his toes, reaching up to hold Alex’s jaw as he kissed him. Alex kissed back immediately, and sparks shot down Willie’s spine.

As he deepened the kiss, thunder rolled across the mountains. The clouds were practically black, but it gave a sort of calmness and confidence with it, like the soothing darkness of night cloaked with clouds of expectancy, waiting and hoping and understanding that love finds comfort in the dark, that there are risks in life, but that they had to be taken, because while the world might not have been made for them, they were made for the world. People, caught up in dreaming about what could be, lost sight of what is; so determined to be right and prove that someone else was wrong that they drive themselves mad.

“I’m gone on you,” Willie finally whispered, eyes closed and forehead against Alex’s. Alex didn’t respond, kissing him again. He sank into it, holding him close and letting the rain wash over them and combing his fingers through Alex’s hair.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he heard sizzling.

Without thinking, Willie jumped and tackled Alex, turning so he hit the ground and Alex landed safely on top of him. The rain blurred his eyes, but he heard crackling and felt the heat of the lightning striking the roof a hundred feet away from them.

“Son of a motherfuck what just happened?!” Alex asked. Willie could hear his heart pounding in his ears, but he couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips.

“I think you fell for me,” Willie joked. Alex rolled his eyes. He grinned; Alex was still laying on top of him, and Willie’s back was soaked by the puddle they’d landed in, but they’d avoided being struck by lightning, which was decidedly a good thing.

“That was too close,” Alex decided. “We should probably go inside before anything else happens.”

“Probably.” Neither of them moved for a moment, until Willie leaned up and pecked Alex on the nose, who immediately turned bright red, even visible in the darkness between the rising night and falling clouds.

-----

Alex POV

…

Alex had known his life was never his. If you’re born into royalty, unless you leave the royal family, you’re stuck there, and it influences your life forever.

He knew that.

And yet, until the wedding was moved up, it hadn’t really hit him.

His life wasn’t his, and it never would be.

He would be forced to be in the public eye, forced to marry a girl he wasn’t in love with, forced to live the rest of his life away from the person he was in love with, forced to watch the girl, one of his best friends, pretend to be okay as if she wasn’t also being separated from the person she loved. He would be forced to plaster on a smile, forced to live with this so that chaos wouldn’t erupt in Dahlia and Tambor.

So that he and the people he loved wouldn’t be exiled.

Alex was tired of being strong. He’d always been told by his friends that he was strong for dealing with this, strong for bearing the stresses of being put into politics so young, strong for hiding who he was from his parents because he knew it would only bring more pain, strong, strong strong. He wished he didn’t have to be.

“Hey, Alex?” Julie eventually asked, directing his attention away from his thoughts and his glazed eyes half-scrolling his Instagram. They’d been sitting for over an hour as the sun set outside Julie’s window, not speaking much aside from angry rants when they’d just gotten out of the royal office.

“Yeah?”

“Should we text the group chat to meet here so we can update all of them? Or would you rather not?” Alex sighed.

“We probably should. Not like we can hide from it.”

“Yeah.”

treason buddies

juju: Hey guys, some shit went down. Meet in my room?

flynnigan: oh fuck, do we even want to know?

juju: Probably not, but you should.

speed bump: i’ll be up in a sec, i’m trying to get flour out of my hair alkjdfskjldf

Me: skjlsdfkjlsdf lilian i assume

speed bump: yep, the bastard

rockstar mcsleeveless: i’ll be there in a sec. are you guys ok?

juju: Not really, but we’ll live

care bear: omw

short stack: same

personal stylist: i’ll be there in a minute

Alex clicked off his phone once the typing bubbles had all disappeared, blowing out a tired breath as he flopped backwards, half-hoping the fading sunset would let him dissolve with the growing twilight, let him become another fleck of light in a vast abyss that was somehow both cold and vast yet full of curiosity and glowing stars. What would it be like, floating in nothingness, waiting for someone to find you yet dreading the day your solitude ended?

Maybe he’d be part of a constellation. What one? Would he add to one that already existed, or would he be part of his very own? What would it look like? Maybe he’d be an owl, a drumstick, a wisp of a wish, floating in the air taking no shape at all, a shimmering question piquing the curiosity of anyone stargazing who happened upon his star, a gentle hope carried by a breeze, full of life and loss and wonder and apprehension.

Or maybe he’d be a shooting star, flying across the atmosphere in the blink of an eye, there, then gone in an instant, burning brighter as his fleeting life ended. Technically, they weren’t stars at all, they were tiny meteors the size of a grain of rice, only visible because of their dramatic, fiery demise. But maybe that was fitting. It wasn’t a star, and neither was Alex. He was more visible now than ever because of the marriage, bringing demise to his hopes like a burning scar, beautiful but painful to the individual.

It wasn’t a star, and neither was he. But shooting stars were meaningful, too. People wished on them; children, usually. But what a wonderful feeling it would be to have the hope of a child in your light.

The thought didn’t necessarily comfort him, but he didn’t feel as alone as before, didn’t feel quite as worthless.

…

After enduring the grueling process of venting and explaining the new situation to the rest of the group, trying to hold back one stubborn tear that kept fighting, Alex finally fell asleep. He wasn’t sure how “asleep” he actually was; he heard vague whispers of “we should let him rest,” and “all of us should.” But he couldn’t move, and he didn’t want to, either, so he left his weary eyes closed and slept, barely feeling someone’s hand on his shoulder and faint warmth next to him.

…

“Your highness,” a butler said, rushing up next to him with a tray, with tiny bites of cake arranged neatly across it. “Would you mind tasting these and telling me which three are your favorites?”

“Hm? Yeah, sure.” Ignoring the numbness fighting to grow in his chest, he tried each one, finally deciding on a few, and promising he’d sample the frostings later. Wedding cakes really weren’t something he wanted to be thinking about at the moment. He’d already had to stand still for hours while his suit was fitted, text Julie a million different pictures of flowers, to which she’d replied “just pick whichever one is poisonous so we can fake our deaths and leave it on our plates.”

He felt sick.

He did his best to avoid other people as he made his way out the back door of the palace, tearing a hand through his hair as he made his way to the field where he’d been with Willie, admiring (and despising) how much progress they’d made on the palace reconstruction. It was almost done, which was incredible, but horrible for him, since it meant they were almost done with the giant ballroom in which he would have to marry Julie.

All things considered, though it was beautiful; the creamy white pillars were identical to the ones on the other side of the palace, which had been repainted so it didn’t look patchy. Intricate flower beds were arranged at precise intervals, and the crystal-cut windows reflected sparkling mosaics of light onto the pathways. Lanterns hung on every pillar, unlit during the day but glowing with soft, gentle flames by night.

Alex sat in the middle of the field, picking at a stray blade of grass and relishing the warm sunlight on his neck, even though he was probably getting a crease on his crisp vest from how he was sitting, slouched as he sat on the hill, elbows on his knees.

After he’d sat and sulked for a considerable amount of time, Julie’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Why don’t we go work on a song?” she suggested. “I can get Luke and Reggie, plus the rest of the group if you want, and we can work out some stress.” Alex shrugged. He knew he was being immature, just sitting there and feeling sorry for himself, but it felt good to be immature. He should really do it more often.

But… there was a lump in the dirt that was giving his butt a bruise, and he didn’t feel like getting up just to sit back down, so he supposed he could go to the studio.

“Alright,” he finally said.

“Awesome.” the sadness in Julie’s voice was tangible, but she masked it well as she smiled and stuck her hands in the pockets of her baggy jeans, between the chain, and squared her shoulders.

“Let’s go, drummer boy.”

…

In the few days since he’d drummed, Alex had somehow forgotten just how therapeutic it was to bash a bunch of drums on a steady beat but still adding variety to spice things up. Julie had convinced him to let her invite the whole group- which, of course, included Willie, who was intently watching him play.

He bit his lip, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed as he kept going. A reluctant smile broke out on his face when Julie started singing the chorus and he jumped in with the toms and crash, flipping his hair out of his eyes and keeping the beat going. Reggie’s rhythmic bass playing combined perfectly with Luke’s chords and riffs, and Julie’s angelic voice tied it all together as if their music was a gift with a shiny bow.

When the bridge started, and Julie and Luke did their Thing™ (the whole dramatic, lovestruck staring-into-each-other’s-eyes move), Alex held the beat with a quiet, rhythmic tapping on the hi-hat. He and Reggie shared a look, and he swallowed the rising sadness in his throat, refusing to let some stupid marriage ruin this moment. They were in perfect harmony, bright with life and love. Then, when Julie went into the final belt, he came in strong with the drums, lip between his teeth and a huge smile begging to break free.

When it finally ended, Alex stood up excitedly, setting down his sticks and leaping across the kick drum to fistbump Luke.

“Alex, dude,” Luke said, “you were smoking.”

“Nah,” he deflected. “You guys-” he gestured to him, Reggie, and Julie “-were the ones on fire.”

“Dude.” Reggie lightly punched him on the shoulder. “Could you just own your awesomeness for once?” Alex rolled his eyes, but it was clear he wasn’t backing down.

“Alright, I was killing it.”

“Yeah,” Willie agreed from behind him. Alex whirled around, having forgotten he was there. He was sure his face was bright red, but hopefully he could blame that on the physical exertion that came with playing the drums. Willie, however, was blushing quite a bit, and Alex felt a bit of accomplishment bubbling up inside him.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he said with a grin.

“Are you kidding? I loved it.”

“I’ll say,” Flynn stage-whispered to Carrie, and Alex decided once and for all that Flustered Willie was his favorite. Willie cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I, uh-” he cut himself off, and Alex bit back a laugh, pulling him in and kissing him on the temple.

Alex knew there was a bubble of numbness and depression fighting to take hold of him, but at least for now, it was under control. He was filled with adrenaline and had their song stuck in his head, the feeling of his arm on Willie’s shoulder anchoring him like a ship in a harsh storm, letting him drift but holding him close.

They would make this work. Somehow.

“Should we run through it again? I was a little shaky during the second verse,” Julie said. Alex nodded.

“I’m down.”

“Same!” replied Luke and Reggie, and the rest of the group eagerly sat and watched. Alex grinned, raising his sticks.

“One, two, three, four!”

-----

Luke POV

…

“I’m so sorry,” Luke whispered. They’d moved up the wedding. The wedding that nobody wanted any part of, the wedding forcing the girl he was in love with to marry their friend, neither of whom were interested. They were already hurting so much, but there was nothing they could do anyways, then to add insult to injury, they’d moved up the wedding six weeks sooner. They didn’t even have two months, just a measly two weeks, and Luke could already feel them ticking away, feel his time with Julie ending, feel Alex’s heart breaking with each minute.

He reached up to hastily wipe away a traitorous tear rolling down his cheek, before wrapping Julie in a hug as she stood and walked to him. She buried her head in his chest, and his hand found her hair, combing through her thick curls.

…

At some point through the night, Alex had worn himself out venting and scheming plans to get out of the wedding and eventually fallen asleep. They’d considered waking him, but he was exhausted and really needed the rest. Luke still had his arm around Julie, leaning against the end of her bed sitting on a pile of pillows. Willie curled up next to Alex, and soon it had turned into another slumber party, but much more somber.

Julie’s soft breathing leveled, indicating that she’d fallen asleep as well. Luke smiled sadly; this was peaceful, but under horrible circumstances. But the gentle part of her lips as she breathed and the lack of a crease between her eyebrows made it worth it; she deserved any brief moment of peace she could get.

He traced soft circles on the shoulder of her t-shirt, running his finger over the hem rhythmically, a song playing in his head as he closed his eyes.

Golden specks flew around in the darkness as Luke whirled around, disoriented. A melodic voice in the background that he recognized but couldn’t place taunted his mind, flashes of brown eyes blinking by in an instant, a retreating curl of hair that might not have been there in the first place.

The ground solidified under his feet, metaphysical but firm for him to stand on. It was all black and glittered faintly in the soft light from stars that were somehow so close he could feel their heat, yet so far that they were like flecks of light in the endless black sky.

The packed black sand cracked beneath him with the sound of a woman’s gasp, sending him hurtling through the void, falling faster and faster as the sliver of light from the cracked ground above him faded until it was so small it wasn’t even visible anymore. The darkness was suffocating and hot as fire, yet thin and cool like a light sheet in the air, whispering silent nothings into his mind.

His back hit a new surface, knocking the wind out of him even though he couldn’t breathe at all. It was all black, the ground invisible, but a soft fog rolled across it, apprehensive but inviting and cool.

“You have to fight for what you want,” a voice whispered, and Luke was able to place it as the same voice as his mother when he was nervous for a competition in sixth grade.

“Things don’t always come easily,” another voice reminded him, the familiar sound of his father’s voice sending a shiver down his spine.

What was he supposed to fight for? There was nothing in this vast black expanse but him and these voices, plus a warm tingle to his right side that felt imaginary, but had a weight to it that he couldn’t help but relish.

The voices disappeared, even though they’d been silent, Luke could feel their absence. The smooth, invisible ground under his feet faded, leaving him floating as the fog disappeared, phasing into particles like stars that floated around him like fireflies as the world shifted to a regal, royal purple, swirling like a galaxy, the faint sound of a piano barely registering among the stars.

…

When Luke woke up, the warmth on his side made sense, because there was Julie, her head on his chest. He glanced over, seeing Willie and Alex sitting with their heads resting together, scrolling through their phones and occasionally showing their screens to the other and laughing quietly. Flynn was asleep on a chair, where Carrie was squished next to her reading a book. Reggie was scribbling something in a notebook and tapping his foot, with Mira leaning on his side weaving braids into Erik’s hair. Julie, meanwhile, was still asleep.

He gave half a smile to Alex, who returned it with a quick sign of “you okay?” He nodded, gently taking his hand off of Julie’s shoulder, who didn’t stir.

Yeah, I’m okay. You?

Pretty good, all things considered. Alex glanced up at Willie, who looked confused, and whispered an explanation as to why they were using sign language. Julie, Flynn, and Erik were asleep, and Luke didn’t want to move and get his phone.

What time is it? Luke signed, and Alex checked his phone, signing back that it was 08:12. Luke glanced back down at Julie, who was still fast asleep.

When did I fall asleep? Alex signed back to him with an inquisitive look on his face.

Around eleven. You were exhausted, and for a good reason.

Yeah. I’m still so angry. I just want to… he trailed off, thinking. Luke guessed he was trying to remember a sign word. In the end, he just mimed crushing something very violently. Luke stifled a laugh.

I’m right there with you. Neither of you deserve this. He glanced down to Julie as he said it.

Neither do you, Alex reminded him. Or Willie. His face turned forlorn as he added the last part.

Yeah. It just sucks. Alex rolled his eyes.

You can say that again.

…

Luke tapped his fingers on his knee, anxiety coursing through him, which was very strange. He had no idea how Alex handled it. Anxiety was not something he was used to; what was he supposed to do with the nervous energy rushing around him when he couldn’t do anything but wait?

In hindsight, the brief text he’d sent Julie to meet him in that one hidden corner of the gardens because he needed to talk to her probably wasn’t the best way for him to go about it, especially since now the grey clouds hung over the sky like death hovered in a cemetery.

He’d rehearsed what he was going to say a million times, but it hadn’t ever seemed perfect; not that it would have mattered, because when Julie walked towards him, a smile on her face, hair down with frizzy curls bouncing over her shoulders, all of his thoughts drifted away, never to be seen again.

“Hi,” he said pathetically. She gave a halfhearted laugh.

“Hi. Is… everything okay?” Luke nodded. Then, he shook his head. A stray raindrop hit his face, the storm slowly crying itself out.

“Julie, I…” he sighed. “This probably won’t be half comprehensible, but I just need to get it off my chest.

“I know that we can't be together. I know that life just wasn't on our side, and I hate it. but I love you.” his heart both lightened and sank with the confession. “I love you, and I want you to know that, no matter where either of us end up in life, with you as queen and me as some guard, you will always be in my heart. you will be my heart in its entirety, wholly and truly.

“I tried to come up with the perfect things to say, tried to articulate and rehearse my feelings, but I guess that’s the thing about emotions. They can’t be described in an accurate way; especially love and pain. I’m not even sure there’s a difference between the two; love hurts, but it’s exhilarating; pain burns, but it makes you feel alive. But they both demand to be felt. And they’re so intense, so beautiful and full of fire and fury in their own regard that I’m not sure they can be described at all. Only with comparisons, but it’s never the exact same, because while pain demands to be felt, love demands to be seen. It’s why it hurts so much to hide it; that hurt, that pain, it demands to be felt, like fire demands to burn and the ground demands to quake and the rain demands to fall.

“I don’t want you to have to feel that pain your entire life. I don’t want you to love me and have to hide it. One illusion of false love is hard enough; but having to mask another layer, for me or you, would be impossible. So I think it’s best you forget me.”

“Luke, what are you-”

“Julie, we’re a grenade. People will get caught in the crossfire, and we’ll be burned completely.”

Tears streamed down his face, but it was impossible to tell with the rain now pouring, serenading his misery with its torrential downpour.

“No,” Julie said, shaking her head back and forth. “No. Luke, you’re going out of your mind. I’m not just going to forget you. If you think I can do that, then you don’t know me at all. Besides, acting as if something never happened is just a form of mental editing, purposely erasing things you regret. Well, that’s not how it works. If you want to break up with me… then fine. But don’t expect me to forget you, because that won’t happen.”

“Julie, I don’t want to break up with you.”

“Then don’t.” Luke looked up and pressed his lips together, even though his tears would be indistinguishable with the rain.

“I’m not. But I don’t want to cause you more pain.”

“I don’t care! Sometimes you have to fight for what you love. And as much as I wish we could lay down our arms, we can’t. I won’t. Not if it means I have to lose you.”

You have to fight for what you want.

Things don’t always come easy.

Luke shook his head, shoving his parents’ dream voices out of his head. He’d tried and tried, but now it was too late. He needed to cut losses so people didn’t get caught in the crossfire.

“Julie, I-”

“No! Aren’t you the guy who says you have to ‘smash those stupid rules out of people’s brains?’” Luke looked away.

“This is different.”

“Is it? Because you’re the most stubborn, bone-headed, amazing guy I know. You’ve never given up on anything in your life, so don’t you dare start now. I’m not giving up on you, either. So are you going to keep trying to make me? Or are you going to make it worth it?”

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Well, news flash, people already have, and will continue to get hurt, because life isn’t all butterflies and glitter. So if you want to minimize the hurt, don’t deny your feelings. Don’t try to make me deny mine.”

“But that’s the point! People have already gotten hurt, and will continue to, because of this. Because of me. If people found out about us, there would be collateral. Probably our friends.”

“Don’t pretend you’re doing this for them,” she snapped. “Don’t try to act all heroic. Luke, you’re amazing and selfless and kind and strong, but you’re only doing this because you’re afraid. I’m afraid too. But this? This isn’t how we need to go about things.” Luke tore a hand through his hair.

“Don’t you get it, Jules? I love you. I love you, and I hate that I’m part of the reason you and Alex are going through all of this pain.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You didn’t suggest the arranged marriage. I know you just want people to be safe, I know you’re trying to protect me, but I don’t need to be protected. I can take care of myself, but I want you by my side.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but we’ll figure it out. I’m not giving up.”

She stepped forward and laced her fingers with his, and his heart softened. He gently cupped her jaw and brushed a raindrop off of her cheekbone, and she leaned up to kiss him.

“Please… stay.”

Luke didn’t want to hurt her. He knew staying would only make things harder, more dangerous.

And yet, he closed his eyes and nodded.

“Okay.”

#blue writes #bwya #bwya tag #be who you are (no compromise)#tuserjules #tracklu #usernell #userzuha #jatp #julie and the phantoms #netflixwewantjatp2

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rpf-bat · 4 years ago

Text

Scream Out ‘What Will Save Us?’

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 15. Prompt: “Catharsis.”

Your band just broke up, and you’re trying to force yourself be okay with that. But, when you visit Frank, at his home in New Jersey, he advises you to be honest with your feelings. You find that he has some things to get off his chest, too.

It had been six months now, since My Chemical Romance broke up. You hadn’t done much since then, except move back to your house in New Jersey, and….sit there. For the last eleven years of your life, you’d drummed for a living, and life had moved to a frenetic pace. There was always another city to travel to, another show to play. But, now? Life was suddenly at a standstill.

You didn’t have to do anything for a living now, you supposed. The royalties alone, could probably sustain you, for years to come. Perhaps a millionaire like yourself, had no right to complain. Bullets You would, after all, kill to have Current You’s problems.

But, having lived at both extremes, you found that being functionally homeless, in a dirty van with your four best friends, was more enjoyable, than being all alone, in this spotless mansion. You hadn’t joined My Chemical Romance to make money. There were other things that mattered more - the joy of spending time with friends, who slowly became more like family. The creative fulfillment, of writing a piece of music, and then having ten thousand fans sing along with the tune. These were the things, that made your life meaningful.

These were the things, that you had now lost.

The Way brothers - who, up until recently, had felt like your own brothers - were still residing in Los Angeles. Ray, too, had stayed on the West Coast. You hadn’t seen them since the decision was made, to disband. You weren’t sure that you even wanted to.

But Frank - good, old, loyal Frank, who had known you longer than any of them - was merely a few miles down the road. Perhaps today was a good day to pay him a visit.

You called him on your cell, and he answered the phone, almost immediately. Like you, he probably had nothing better to do.

“Hey, Y/N,” Frank said in a tired voice. “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” you shrugged. “Just bored, I guess. How are you?”

“Not so good,” Frank confessed. “I’ve been having, like, the worst stomachaches.”

“Oh, no,” you said sympathetically. “Do you want me to bring you some medicine?”

“The doc says I have a bacterial overgrowth of the small intestine,” Frank explained.

“What does that mean?” you asked.

“It means your drug-store Pepto ain’t gonna do shit for me,” Frank chuckled bitterly. “I got prescription pills for it, but it still hurts like a bitch. Some company might take my mind off the pain, though.”

“So...I can come over?” you asked hopefully.

“Please do,” Frank agreed. “It’ll at least give me a reason, to get out of bed.”

You chose not to mention that, at two o’clock in the afternoon, you had yet to find a reason to get out of bed yourself.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Frank’s house was nowhere near the main road. You had to drive through nearly half a mile of trees, just to reach his front door. He had selected this property partially because he loved nature - and partially because hated people.

You supposed you couldn’t blame him, for trying to avoid having nosy fans show up on his doorstep. The only person who always seemed welcome on his doorstep, no matter the hour, was you.

You found him sitting on his front steps, his acoustic guitar in his hands. The melody he was playing drifted over the air, as you got out of the car, and approached him.

“Is that...Disenchanted?” you recognized instantly.

“,,,..Yeah,” Frank sighed, his inked hands ceasing their strumming. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Frankie,” you frowned. “What made you decide to play that one today?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said sadly. “Doesn’t it feel strange to you? Knowing that we’re never going to play that song onstage again?”

“Or any of them,” you noted. “If I had known that set at Bamboozle would be the last gig we ever played, I would have tried harder, to make it count.”

“You and me both,” Frank said wistfully. “But, anyway….it’s a nice day. Do you want to take a walk with me?”

“Sure,” you nodded, extending your hand to help him up. “As long as you’re feeling up to it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Frank assured you, groaning as he stood. “C’mon.”

You followed him, around the house, through his backyard, and from there, into the woods, that sat behind his home. The trees were beginning to lose their leaves, and the sky has turned overcast, and grey. Summer, you supposed, was just another thing that wouldn’t last.

“Careful,” Frank warned, “there’s a brook up ahead.”

You saw that was what he said was true. The small body of water separated the hill from the valley, in the same way that a garotte wire separated a head from a neck.

“Take my hand,” Frank offered. “I don’t want you to fall.”

You found yourself blushing, as his calloused fingers, intertwined with your own. He pulled you up onto a rock, in the center of the brook.

“Are we going to have to jump?” you guessed.

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Frank said softly, “I got you.”

He leapt from the rock, to the other side of the brook. Still holding hands, you leapt with him. Just as he’d promised, you made it to the other side safely.

“It’s just a little further now,” Frank assured you.

“What is?” you wondered.

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically. He could have let go of your hand, but instead, he kept it held tightly in his own. You didn’t mind.

“....Whoa,” you gasped, as you realized, that you’d arrived at your destination. You were at the top of a cliff. From here, you could see the whole city, stretched out before you.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Frank admired.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Thank you for bringing up here! The view was totally worth the hike.”

“I’m lucky as hell, to have a hidden gem like this, on my property,” Frank confessed. “I like to come up here sometimes, when I need to think.”

“....What have you been thinking about lately?” you asked, sitting down on a boulder.

“What happened with the band, of course,” Frank admitted, sitting down beside you. “I just….I don’t know. Gerard’s decision felt so sudden. It was like having the wind knocked out of me.”

“Yeah,” you recalled. “It was like….it wasn’t fun anymore to him, so he just….dropped it. Like it was nothing.”

“I’m not gonna pretend, that being in My Chem, was sunshine and roses all the time,” Frank acknowledged. “Sometimes, touring sucked.”

“It did,” you admitted. “I hated the early bus calls, and the jet lag, that never seemed to go away. But, I don’t know. It was worth it, to go through all that, if it meant I would end my day, on a stage with you.”

“I guess it wasn’t worth it to him anymore,” Frank frowned. “But, what can you do? You can’t continue a band, without its frontman.”

“I guess our time was just up,” you shrugged. “All we can do, is move on.”

“I know it was messing up his mental health, trying to write the new record,” Frank said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “It’s not right for us to ask him to keep doing something that’s hurting him.”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “It’s not fair, to risk causing him another relapse, or something, just because we thought the album could’ve gone somewhere.”

“But now, you and me?” Frank grumbled, lighting a cigarette, and taking a drag. “We’re not gonna go fucking anywhere.”

“We’re right back where we started,” you realized. “Stuck in the same little town in New Jersey, where it all began.”

You and Frank, had been in another local band, called Pencey Prep. That band had broken up, and then Gerard, had asked you two, to join My Chemical Romance. Even before you’d become a member, you’d known just from listening to the demos, that this band would be something special. They’d captivated every soul, in the shitty dive bar, where you’d gone to see them play.

After you and Frank joined their ranks, things began to pick up speed so quickly. Local bars, turned into clubs on the other side of the state. And then you’d attracted the interest of a major label. And then, the next thing you knew, you were playing in fucking Japan. Clubs turned into arenas. Obscurity turned into infamy. You’d done things, you never thought, you would have an opportunity to do. It was a wild ride. And it was….over now.

“It makes me want to scream sometimes,” you said honestly.

“So, do it,” Frank said, exhaling smoke.

“....What?” you blinked, staring back at him.

“Go on and scream,” he suggested. “I mean, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Nobody’s going to hear you, except for me.”

“You’re serious?” you gaped.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “Honestly? I think it would be cathartic.”

He had a point - you’d been trying to hold a lot of emotions inside you, since everything went down. Maybe what you really needed, was to let them out.

You went and stood, on the edge of the cliff, and looked out, onto the horizon. You took a deep breath, and tilted your head back.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” you cried.

You turned back, and saw that Frank was laughing.

“....Did that feel good?” he grinned.

“....Honestly, yeah, it did!” you admitted. It felt even better, to see a smile on his face, for the first time today.

“You should just...feel what you feel, Y/N,” Frank advised. “You say we’re supposed to move on, and maybe that’s the narrative the fans want to hear. Like, they’re sad that they’ll never hear their favorite band live again. And it makes them feel better, to think, well, the band members did this, because it’s what made them the happiest.”

“But, we don’t feel happy,” you argued. “At least, not all of us do.”

“What do you feel?” Frank asked seriously.

“I feel….lost,” you described. “Like, I don’t know what my next move is supposed to be. The whole world knew me as My Chemical Romance’s drummer, for pretty much all of my twenties. Now, I’m hitting my thirties and...I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where we go from here.”

“Well, I know that I want to keep making music,” Frank decided. “Even if nobody else wants to hear it, I’ll play it for myself.”

“I want to hear it,” you said seriously. “Did you write something recently?”

“Yeah,” Frank said shyly, stubbing his cigarette out into the dirt. “I actually did start writing a song, the other day.”

“Play it for me,” you pleaded.

“I don’t know,” Frank blushed. “I wrote some lyrics, but….you know I don’t have the gift for singing, that Gerard does.”

“You sang in Pencey,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, that was twelve years ago!” Frank scoffed. “Who knows if I even remember how?”

“I know you can do it,” you encouraged him.

“The lyrics, they’re not all that nice,” Frank warned. “I didn’t write them to be radio friendly. I just wrote them, because I needed to get the thoughts out of my head.”

“You needed your catharsis,” you nodded understandingly.

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “But….if you really want to hear it, Y/N, I’ll play it for you.”

He took out his guitar, and set it on his lap. Hesitant fingers plucked the strings. You listened, with rapt attention, as he began to sing:

Some things change but they don't get better

I'm so sick and so tired of trying to tell them that

I'll never do it, no I'll never make it alone

But pay no mind, it fades in time

Don't we all?

Someone I love threw me away

But I don't mind, no I don't mind at all

“That’s bullshit, Frank,�� you interrupted. “You do mind.”

“.....Of course I fucking mind,” Frank snapped. He looked up from his guitar, and you realized, that he had tears in his eyes.

You moved over to where he sat, and pulled him into a hug.

“It’s okay,” you told him gently.

“It’s not,” Frank shook his head. “I gave my blood, sweat, and tears….my heart and my soul, to that band. I thought you and I were going to be in My Chemical Romance for the rest of our lives.”

“What, like Mick Jagger?” you tried to smile. “Rocking out, even in his sixties?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said, burying his face in his hands. “Maybe I’m the stupid one, for thinking that something like that, could last forever.”

“You’re not stupid,” you said softly. “The truth is….I wanted it to last forever, too. It was the best thing I’d ever done. And now, I don’t know what else I can do with the rest of my life, that could even come close.”

“If I decided to play that song, in front of other people, someday,” Frank asked, “would you play the drums for me?”

“Of course,” you promised. “Frank, I’d jump at the chance to get onstage with you again. You should know that.”

“I feel like I don’t know anything anymore!” Frank said vulnerably. “Everything I thought I could count on, is slipping through my fingers. I feel lost. Just like you said. And I’m aching all the time, Y/N. What if you’re the next thing, that I lose?”

“I’ll never leave you, Frank,” you vowed. “It’s been you and me, from the very beginning. I couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t have you in it….in one way, or another.”

“You met me when you joined Pencey. But now, for the first time in my entire life, you’re not my band mate anymore,” Frank choked. “So…what am I to you?”

“You’re my best friend,” you whispered, pulling him close. “And you could be more than that, if you wanted to.”

“Wh-What are you saying?” Frank gasped.

“Frank….,” you took a deep breath. “The truth is, that I always wanted you. I never told you how I felt, because I thought, if we got into a relationship, and broke up, it would destroy our ability to work together. But….you’re right. We’re not bandmates anymore. So, I have nothing left to lose. I...I love you.”

“You….love me?” Frank repeated, eyes wide.

“Yes.” You put it all out there. “Yes, Frank, you’re the one I love. And if you would have me, I swear to you, I would never throw you away.”

Frank surged forward, grabbing you by the collar, and pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Your startled mouth was suddenly full of his tongue. It felt so good.

“....Frankie!” you gasped, pulling away. “You...you actually want me back?”

“Of course I do,” Frank breathed. “It drives me absolutely fucking crazy, that we’ve both been burying our feelings this whole time, to protect a career, that no longer exists.”

“...Then at least I still have you,” you whispered, and pulled him in again. He tasted like smoke and desperation.

His body pressed against yours as he kissed you harder, pushing you down, against the hard rocks. His hands found the buttons of your blouse.

“....Frank,” you stopped him. “We should go back down, to your house, if we’re going to do this.”

“You’re right,” he chuckled. “My bed is a lot softer.”

“Take me there,” you begged, laying your lips on him again.

“Oh,” Frank promised, “I’ll take you all night.”

#frank iero x reader #frank iero imagine #gothtober #band member reader

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skieswords · 4 years ago

Note

“I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so badly” for willex

I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so badly.”

---------

As expected, Julie and The Phantoms’ performance at The Orpheum shot them into stardom overnight, and they took Hollywood by storm. With a record deal signed, and tour dates coming up in the calendar, the boys had never been more excited. Julie and Luke had been inseperable for weeks, writing song after song after song. Alex had heard some of them, and it was honestly some of the best work he’d ever heard from either of them. Reggie was loving the new fame, and was constantly hanging over Ray’s shoulder, reading the comments on their new social media platforms. If he wasn’t with Ray, he was with Flynn, who was much more helpful, after Julie explained what was going on. The two would sit for ages, Flynn showing the invisible Reggie the various girls who adored him. It was quite endearing for the first few minutes, but it got real old real quick. Alex liked to spend most of his time with Willie, either watching him skate at the beach, or taking long walks along the sand together. They’d become much closer over the past few weeks, squeezing in all of the quality time they could before Alex left for tour. This had included multiple makeouts under the dock, wandering hands joining the mix a few weeks after their first kiss.

“So, you excited to leave Hollywood? I know it’s only a few hours away, but San Diego has got to be pretty cool, right?” Alex shrugged and continued staring at the floor, counting the pebbles beneath his feet. “Alex, have I done something? You’ve been really quiet since I arrived, are you-” Alex grabbed Willie’s hand and looked straight into the deep brown eyes he loved so much. “Come on tour with me.” Willie blinked, and looked down at their hands, and then back up to Alex. “Come again?” Alex took a deep breath, and reached for Willie’s other hand. “I want you to come with me. I’ve been thinking for the past week, the only thing that’s not exciting about this tour, is missing you. I want you to come. Please?” Willie was silent for a moment, before a grin broke out onto his face, and he squeezed Alex’s hands. “Holy shit of course! I’d love to come! Oh my god, we’re going to San Diego!” Alex grinned and started jumping up and down with excitement, grateful none of the passerbys could see him. Willie was coming on tour with him. It was going to be perfect.

“Okay, so Julie and Flynn, your room is through here- we figured it would be most appropriate that you guys get the back lounge, considering you’re the lead singer Julie, and the youngest of the group. Also, girls need girl space, right?” The tour bus operator winked at the two of them, and pushed open the door, revealing a small twin bedroom, decked out with two twin beds and what looked like another room in the back. “There’s a bathroom through here, shower and whatever else. Your closet’s in here, Julie.” The woman pressed a button, and a section of the wall retracted, revealing multiple sequined outfits, which Alex recognised as the ones from the show. The girls squealed and jumped onto the beds, starfishing as they looked around them in awe. Alex nodded his head slowly as he took in the room, impressed by the size of the bus. From the outside it looked pretty small, but it was very decent sized. “Assuming the boys are coming later, they’ll be sleeping here.” The woman indicated 2 bunks on either side of the narrow hallway, curtains pinned back to reveal spacious beds with their own drop down TVs. “They should find them perfectly comfortable, and if they don’t, I’m sure you girls will keep them in line. Then through here, there’s the main lounge, kitchen, main bathroom. Just the usual stuff. Your driver should be through shortly- they have their own section up front, you won’t even know they’re there. And of course, everything is sound proofed, and the wifi is top-notch. Nothing but the best for our stars! That all sound good?” Julie nodded eagerly, and watched as the woman walked down the stairs at the front of the bus. “Thank you so much, it’s perfect! We’ll let you know if we need anything. Bye!” The door swung shut, and Julie sighed, dropping onto one of the leather sofas and looking around her in wonder. “This is incredible. I can’t believe we get to live here for the next 6 months.” Flynn nodded and sat on the sofa beside her. “What do the boys think?” Julie looked at Alex and Luke expectantly, grinning at their shocked faces. “They like it. Want to go check out the refreshments on the lot?” Flynn nodded and waved to the air surrounding the boys, before running after Julie. Luke immediately bagged a top bunk, laughing when Reggie jumped into the bunk under him. “Guess that leaves you two to argue over top or bottom.” He winked at Alex and drew his curtain, the sounds of Netflix coming through the curtain moments later. Alex blushed and turned to Willie, who was looking at the ceiling with increasing concern. “Uh- I’m not really fussed about which, so...” Willie shrugged and jumped onto the top bunk. “It’s no biggie. I’m so excited. Thanks for bringing me, hotdog. This is going to be an adventure and a half.” Alex nodded and sat on one of the sofas, eager to get away from Reggie and Luke’s prying ears. Willie followed, settling down next to him and holding his hand. “I’m so glad you came. I’m not sure what I’d have done if I’d had to live without you for 6 months.” Willie shrugged happily and rested his chin on Alex’s shoulder, looking up at his blonde drummer. “Probably been an anxious wreck, and have to call Julie’s dad like three times a day so he could give the phone to Carlos who’d hold it for me.” Alex laughed softly and pressed a kiss to Willie’s forehead. Willie closed his eyes and sighed happily, before moving closer to Alex, and pressing their lips together. Alex moaned softly in surprise, but moved a hand round to the back of Willie’s head, deepening the kiss slightly. Just as Willie moved to straddle Alex’s thighs, the bus door opened, and they broke apart, Alex shoving Willie off him hurriedly, and leaning over his lap. Julie’s eyes widened as she registered what she’d just walked in on, and she pointed between the two, shaking her head. “I don’t wanna see any of that. Got it?” Alex nodded sheepishly, and Willie looked at his shoes. “Save it for when I’m at afterparties or something. Thank you.” Alex watched with a half-grin as she sauntered through to hers and Flynn’s bedroom, running a hand through his hair. “What’s got you smiling? That was embarrassing as hell.” Willie took his seat next to Alex again, frowning. “Oh, just cause I happen to know how many afterparties there are going to be. I’ll give you a clue. There’s a lot.” Willie raised his eyebrows and grinned, leaning in to join their llips again. Just before he could, one of the curtains moved, and Luke’s head appeared. “Can you save it for when we’re not here? I love you Alex, and I get it, trust me, you got stuff to burn off- but I really don’t wanna hear it.” Reggie’s hand appeared, holding his thumb up in agreement with Luke. “Oh my god.” Willie laughed as Alex buried his face in his hands, a blush creeping up his neck for reasons outside of Willie’s hand on his thigh.

---

6 months later.

“How’d I look?” Willie looked his boyfriend up and down appreciatively, the pink blazer and white shirt complimenting Alex’s fair skin perfectly. The band had chosen outfits reminiscent of their Orpheum clothes, trying to hold on to what had started them, the night they ended their tour of the states. They were back in Hollywood, and had one more night on the tour bus before they went home for a few months. Willie grinned and leaned in to press a kiss to Alex’s cheek. “You look smoking. Go show them what you’re made of.” Alex smiled and squeezed Willie’s hand, before taking a deep breath, and poofing onto the stage, just as the first pre-chorus of Finally Free began. The other boys appeared simultaneously, and the crowd went wild. Willie watched from the wings, his eyes never leaving his boyfriend all night. As they moved through the setlist, he found himself getting more and more flustered as Alex did, the sweat dripping down his boyfriend’s face forcing his eyes to close as he imagined Alex on top of him in a similar state. It didn’t help that they’d decided the final afterparty of the tour, which they knew Luke and Reggie would be attending, would be the first time they’d go the full way. 6 months of heavy petting and occasional blowjobs in the bathroom had been fun, but Willie wanted to show his boyfriend just how much he loved him. The other members of Julie and The Phantoms had even agreed to stay away for a couple of hours at least, and the boys had promised to knock before coming back in, rather than poofing straight into their beds. Julie had no idea what they were planning- Alex had been mortified at the mere idea of Julie knowing the ins and outs of his sex life. As the final chord of the final song struck, Willie let out a deep breath. Alex poofed to his side, the grin on his face infectious. “How’d I do?” Willie smiled and took his boyfriends hand, examining it quietly, and automatically massaging his palm, as he’d learnt Alex loved over the months. “Oh, you were great. You looked even better. In fact, I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so badly.” Alex’s smile dropped, and he gulped visibly. “So, about that afterparty, are you guys going straight there?” He called over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Willie’s. Luke’s voice replied, a slight mocking tone. “Yeah, yeah, hurry up. Fuck on my bed and I’ll kill you!” Alex’s eyes grew wide, and he spun round, to find Julie staring at him in shock. “I wish I didn’t hear that. But uh, have fun? I’m not gonna be the one to stand between you two. God, we’ve watched you eye-fuck each other enough the past few months. Go. Please. I can’t act normal for much longer.” Alex nodded and poofed out of sight, leaving his bandmates shaking their heads, and grinning. They appeared in the tour bus together, and it took a matter of seconds for Willie’s mouth to find his, his hands already pushing Alex’s blazer off his shoulders. Alex moved his hands to the hem of Willie’s t-shirt and pulled it over his head, rejoining their lips as he tossed it to the floor. Willie backed them up against the wall, smirking as he registered who’s bed they were leaning against. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” Alex shrugged and grinned, returning his lips to Wiliie’s, and kicking his shoes off. “I intend to be using my mouth for much better things than telling Luke we fucked on his bed.” Willie groaned desperately, and ground his hips into Alex’s. Tonight was going to be fun.

-------

Hope this was okay! I’ve not actually written Willex smut before- I’m working on a request for it at the moment though!

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blackkudos · 5 years ago

Text

Johnny Guitar Watson

John Watson Jr. (February 3, 1935 – May 17, 1996), known professionally as Johnny "Guitar" Watson, was an American blues, soul, and funk musician and singer-songwriter. A flamboyant showman and electric guitarist in the style of T-Bone Walker, Watson recorded throughout the 1950s and 1960s with some success. His creative reinvention in the 1970s with funk overtones, saw Watson have hits with "Ain't That a Bitch" and "Superman Lover". His successful recording career spanned forty years, with his highest chart appearance being the 1977 song "A Real Mother For Ya".

Early life

Watson was born in Houston, Texas. His father John Sr. was a pianist, and taught his son the instrument. But young Watson was immediately attracted to the sound of the guitar, in particular the electric guitar as played by T-Bone Walker and Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown.

His grandfather, a preacher, was also musical. "My grandfather used to sing while he'd play guitar in church, man," Watson reflected many years later. When Johnny was 11, his grandfather offered to give him a guitar if, and only if, the boy didn't play any of the "devil's music". His parents separated in 1950, when he was 15. His mother moved to Los Angeles, and took Watson with her.

Early career

In his new city, Watson won several local talent shows. This led to his employment, while still a teenager, with jump blues-style bands such as Chuck Higgins's Mellotones and Amos Milburn. He worked as a vocalist, pianist, and guitarist. He quickly made a name for himself in the African-American juke joints of the West Coast, where he first recorded for Federal Records in 1952. He was billed as Young John Watson until 1954. That year, he saw the Joan Crawford film Johnny Guitar, and a new stage name was born.

In 1953, Shorty Rogers had Watson as part of his Orchestra perform for the famed ninth Cavalcade of Jazz concert held at Wrigley Field in Los Angeles which was produced by Leon Hefflin, Sr. on June 7. Also featured that day were Roy Brown and his Orchestra, Don Tosti and His Mexican Jazzmen, Earl Bostic, Nat "King" Cole, and Louis Armstrong and his All Stars with Velma Middleton.

Watson affected a swaggering, yet humorous personality, indulging a taste for flashy clothes and wild showmanship on stage. His "attacking" style of playing, without a plectrum, resulted in him often needing to change the strings on his guitar once or twice a show, because he "stressified on them" so much, as he put it.Watson's ferocious "Space Guitar" single of 1954 pioneered guitar feedback and reverb. Watson would later influence a subsequent generation of guitarists. His song "Gangster of Love" was first released on Keen Records in 1957. It did not appear in the charts at the time, but was later re-recorded and became a hit in 1978, becoming Watson's "most famous song".

He toured and recorded with his friend Larry Williams, as well as Little Richard, Don and Dewey, The Olympics, Johnny Otis and, in the mid-1970s with David Axelrod. In 1975 he was a guest performer on two tracks (flambe vocals on the out-choruses of "San Ber'dino" and "Andy") on the Frank Zappa album One Size Fits All. He also played with Herb Alpert and George Duke. But as the popularity of blues declined and the era of soul music dawned in the 1960s, Watson transformed himself from southern blues singer with pompadour into urban soul singer in a pimp hat. His new style was emphatic – wearing the gold teeth, broad-brimmed hats, flashy suits, fashionable outsized sunglasses and ostentatious jewelry.

He modified his music accordingly. His albums Ain't That a Bitch (included funk blues singles "Superman Lover") and Real Mother For Ya(1977) fused funk and blues. Watson had album Love Jones in 1980. Reviewing Watson's 1977 LP A Real Mother for Ya, Robert Christgau wrote in Christgau's Record Guide: Rock Albums of the Seventies (1981): "Watson has been perfecting his own brand of easy-listening funk for years, and this time he's finally gone into the studio with his guitar Freddie and his drummer Emry and a bunch of electric keyboards and come up with a whole album of good stuff. The riff-based tracks go on too long but go down easy and the lyrics have an edge. Granted, Watson can't match George Benson's chops, but this is dance music, chops would just get in the way. And I prefer his Lou-Rawls-without-pipes to Benson's Stevie-Wonder-ditto."

Later career

The shooting death of his friend Larry Williams in 1980 and other personal setbacks led to Watson briefly withdrawing from the spotlight in the 1980s. "I got caught up with the wrong people doing the wrong things", he was quoted as saying by The New York Times.

The release of his album Bow Wow in 1994 brought Watson more visibility and chart success than he had ever known. The album received a Grammy Award nomination.

In a 1994 interview with David Ritz for liner notes to The Funk Anthology, Watson was asked if his 1980 song "Telephone Bill" anticipated rap music. "Anticipated?" Watson replied. "I damn well invented it!... And I wasn't the only one. Talking rhyming lyrics to a groove is something you'd hear in the clubs everywhere from Macon to Memphis. Man, talking has always been the name of the game. When I sing, I'm talking in melody. When I play, I'm talking with my guitar. I may be talking trash, baby, but I'm talking".

In 1995, he was given a Pioneer Award from the Rhythm and Blues Foundation in a presentation and performance ceremony at the Hollywood Palladium. In February 1995, Watson was interviewed by Tomcat Mahoney for his Brooklyn, New York-based blues radio show The Other Half. Watson discussed at length his influences and those he had influenced, referencing Guitar Slim, Jimi Hendrix, Frank Zappa and Stevie Ray Vaughan. He made a special guest appearance on Bo Diddley's 1996 album A Man Amongst Men, playing vocoder on the track "I Can't Stand It" and singing on the track "Bo Diddley Is Crazy".

His music was sampled by Redman (who based his "Sooperman Luva" saga on Watson's "Superman Lover" song), Ice Cube, Eazy-E, Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre, Jay-Z, and Mary J. Blige. Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre borrowed P-Funk's adaptation of Watson's catchphrase "Bow wow wow yippi-yo yippi-yay" for Snoop's hit Who Am I? (What's My Name?). Johnny also played the guitar on the G-Funk remix of Dr. Dre's Grammy award winning single Let Me Ride in 1993.

"Johnny was always aware of what was going on around him", recalled Susan Maier Watson (later to become the musician's wife) in an interview printed in the liner notes to the album The Very Best of Johnny 'Guitar' Watson. "He was proud that he could change with the times and not get stuck in the past".

Death and material loss

Watson died of a heart attack on May 17, 1996, collapsing on stage while on tour in Yokohama, Japan. His remains were brought home for interment at Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery in Glendale, California and buried in the Great Mausoleum, Sanctuary of Enduring Honor, Holly Terrace entrance.

On June 25, 2019, The New York Times Magazine listed Johnny "Guitar" Watson among hundreds of artists whose material was reportedly destroyed in the 2008 Universal fire.

Influence

Watson, a recognized master of the Fender Stratocaster guitar, has been compared to Jimi Hendrix and allegedly became irritated when asked about this comparison, supposedly stating: "I used to play the guitar standing on my hands. I had a 150-foot cord and I could get on top of the auditorium – those things Jimi Hendrix was doing, I started that shit."

Frank Zappa stated that "Watson's 1956 song 'Three Hours Past Midnight' inspired me to become a guitarist". Watson contributed to Zappa's albums One Size Fits All (1975), Them or Us (1984), Thing-Fish (1984) and Frank Zappa Meets the Mothers of Prevention (1985). Zappa also named "Three Hours Past Midnight" his favorite record in a 1979 interview.

Steve Miller not only did a cover of "Gangster of Love" on his 1968 album Sailor (substituting "Is your name "Stevie 'Guitar' Miller?" for the same line with Watson's name), he made a reference to it in his 1969 song "Space Cowboy" ("And you know that I'm a gangster of love") as well as in his 1973 hit song "The Joker" ("Some call me the gangster of love"). Miller had also borrowed the sobriquet for his own "The Gangster Is Back", on his 1971 album Rock Love.

Jimmie Vaughan, brother of Stevie Ray Vaughan, is quoted as saying: "When my brother Stevie and I were growing up in Dallas, we idolized very few guitarists. We were highly selective and highly critical. Johnny 'Guitar' Watson was at the top of the list, along with Freddie, Albert and B.B. King. Watson influenced Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone, Etta James, and Stevie Ray Vaughan.

Bobby Womack said: "Music-wise, he (Watson) was the most dangerous gunslinger out there, even when others made a lot of noise in the charts ～　I'm thinking of Sly Stone or George Clinton".

Etta James stated, in an interview at the 2006 Rochester International Jazz Festival: "Johnny 'Guitar' Watson... Just one of my favorite singers of all time. I first met him when we were both on the road with Johnny Otis in the '50s, when I was a teenager. We traveled the country in a car together so I would hear him sing every night. His singing style was the one I took on when I was 17 – people used to call me the female Johnny 'Guitar' Watson and him the male Etta James... He knew what the blues was all about...".

James is also quoted as saying: "I got everything from Johnny... He was my main model... My whole ballad style comes from my imitating Johnny's style... He was the baddest and the best... Johnny Guitar Watson was not just a guitarist: the man was a master musician. He could call out charts; he could write a beautiful melody or a nasty groove at the drop of a hat; he could lay on the harmonies and he could come up with a whole sound." Pearl Jam recorded a song entitled "Johnny Guitar", about Watson, for their 2009 album Backspacer.

Watson's 1976 song "Superman Lover" features on the soundtrack of the video game Grand Theft Auto V.

#02/03 #05/17

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 4 years ago

Text

Ray Toro x Reader - Deadline - Part Two

Request: Ooh what about a part 2 for Deadline where Mikey doesn't know that they confessed and he goes to Ray and tells him and they just play along thxx

Summary: Mikey still plans to tell Ray you’re in love with him, not knowing Ray and you are already together

Word count: 1 276

Part One

Maybe it was mean. Maybe Mikey did not deserve it. But then again maybe he did. If he had not tried pressuring you into telling Ray how you felt about him, you might have told him about the turn of events, of how you had accidentally confessed your feelings for the guitarist, how you had kissed while watching the sunset. But because Mikey had teased you, you did not tell him. But you told Ray about what Mikey had been up to, and Ray being Ray, came up with a plan on the spot.

As much as it pained both of you not to be able to finally kiss and hug whenever you wanted, you decided you should wait until the following evening before revealing the newest development. After all, that evening Mikey’s deadline was running out, and if he really planned on telling Ray how you felt for him, that would be incredible amusing.

Sure enough you all had dropped down in the dressing room after the show was over, sweaty and exhausted, when Mikey shot you a devilish glance. Oh how much you wanted to hate him, but at the same time you knew that it was him he was going embarrass.

“So, (y/n),” he spoke up, speaking a little louder than he would have done usually to get everyone’s attention. Luckily nobody other than the five band members were present. “How’ve you been?”

“Dude, we’ve been spending the past three months on super tight space, you know how I’ve been doing,” you rolled your eyes, knowing he was simply searching for a way into the conversation.

“How’s that thing going?”

“What thing,” Frank turned around from where he had changed into a fresh shirt, eyeing you curiously, “are you working on that drum-solo again? Man, I sure hope you do, because it’s about fucking time you finally get one.”

“As a matter of fact, I have, Frank,” you grinned, shooting Mikey a smug grin. “I’m almost finished, maybe two more days? And then I could play it to you guys, to get your opinion.”

“You’re the drummer, (y/n). If you think it’s good enough, then it’s probably better than that,” Frank grinned. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

“Maybe you should play it to Ray first,” Mikey suggested, earning raised eyebrows from you, “you know, he’s a good drummer too. You two might want some alone time.”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s much I could help (y/n) with,” Ray laughed, knowing as well as you did, what Mikey was planning, “they’re a bloody brilliant drummer.”

“But maybe (y/n) would like to get some help from you, Ray,” Mikey teased, sending you a huge grin.

“Mikey, stop it,” you warned.

“Stop what?” Now even Gerard had noticed the increasingly weird conversation.

“Isn’t there something you’d like to tell –“

“Don’t make a fool out of yourself, Mikes,” you reminded him, but he only grinned wider.

“Ray, what would you say if I told you that (y/n) would like to… get to know you a little better?”

You could feel Ray’s side glance on you, before he spoke, and you had to try really hard to hold in your laughter.

“Get to know me better,” he asked innocently while putting down a water bottle he had been drinking from, “I think we already know each other pretty well, to be honest.”

“Yeah, but only as friends,” Mikey argued.

“Wait a sec,” Frank jumped up, wide eyed, “are you saying-“ he pointed between you and Ray

Mikey just shrugged.

“I knew it,” Frank cheered, “I knew (y/n) had a thing for Ray!”

“Wow, okay, calm down, Frank,” you rolled your eyes. How many times had you done that today already?

“What-? What are you saying,” Gerard asked, stepping closer.

“Just that maybe (y/n) likes Ray more than just as a friend, or band mate,” Mikey giggled.

“You sound like a twelve year old who just found out their friend has a crush,” you mumbled, and even though you knew that what Mikey so enthusiastically announced was no news to Ray, you could feel a blush burn in your cheeks.

“Well, I sure hope they do,” Ray shrugged carelessly, “otherwise me telling them that I love ‘em yesterday would have been very embarrassing.”

Ray’s casual statement had the hoped for effect. For a few seconds there was absolute silence in the changing room. The Mikey, Frank and Gerard all started talking at once.

“Oh, this is some good shit right there guys,” Frank laughed, “ha, I can’t fucking believe you just told him his lover loves him. Oh my god, Mikey!”

“When did that happen? Why didn’t I know of this? How come Mikey knew, but I didn’t? Am I that bad at keeping secrets? Hey, since when are you two a thing? You’re my best friend, Ray, how could you not tell me,” Gerard whined.

But shouting over both Frank and Gerard was Mikey.

“You already knew? What the hell? Were you just playing me,” he asked, gesturing wildly between Ray and you, “all this time I was trying to set you up, and you don’t even tell me once you’re actually together? How can you be so cruel? I just want you two to be happy and you-“

“That’s what you get for blackmailing me,” you laughed, “serves you right!”

“They do have a point, Mikey,” Gerard agreed. “You can’t just tell someone somebody likes them! What if they don’t feel the same! What if you would have embarrassed (y/n)!”

“Well, I knew I wouldn’t embarrass them, at least not for long,” Mikey defended, “because actually-“

“Actually I had already told him that I like (y/n),” Ray explained, “so from that perspective it was all fail safe.”

For a moment there was silence again.

“So in other words, Ray and (y/n) are dating now,” Frank concluded, and shrugged. “I can live with that.”

“Good to know you won’t drop dead now,” you joked, and Frank sent a mocking air kiss your way.

“So…” Gerard looked into everyone’s faces before turning to Ray and you, “congratulations or something?”

You laughed and Ray was about to reply something equally stupid when Frank interrupted him.

“Yeah yeah, rainbows and pink fluffy clouds and all that, but I’m hungry can we go out for dinner?”

Ray turned to you and shook his head before wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Such a romantic, isn’t he,” he joked, making you giggle.

“But he’s right, I’m starving too,” you admitted.

“So am I,” Mikey pipped in, “but actually I might just need a distraction from this embarrassment. You’re already together, oh man.”

“Dinner it is then,” Gerard agreed.

Frank cheered quietly, and one after the other left the changing room, until only Ray and you were left. When you were about to leave as well, Ray grabbed your wrist and held you back.

“Happy with your revenge,” he asked quietly, a soft smile on his lips.

“Very,” you agreed and smiled back. “but even happier about being able to do this.”

And with that you got on your tip toes and gently kissed Ray, making him smile. He was pulled you closer and was about to wrap you in a hug, when Frank suddenly shouted for you to come.

Unwillingly Ray pulled away from you.

“One of these days we might be able to kiss without being constantly interrupted,” he joked, taking your hand in his, just like he had done the day prior.

“While being on tour with those three idiots?” you asked, following him as he led you out of the changing room and down a corridor, “Keep dreaming.”

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know; crossed out are blogs i cannot tag anymore):

General: @alexstyx @recommendedattheprice @jayloverthe3rd @robinruns @lookalivefrosty @butterflycore @vamp-void @angelevansfalls

MCR: @deadlovers

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babymetaldoll · 3 years ago

Text

Danger Days - Chapter seventeen: “Falling into pieces”

Word count: 7,8K

Summary: Joey talks with Matthew for the first time ever since breaking up. Gerard opens up with Mikey about his true feelings for Joey.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, mention of sexual assault.

A/N: Do you think Matthew is gonna be excited to be a dad?

Masterlist

Matthew kept asking his mom what time it was. He had been doing the same ever since he woke up around ten in the morning. He was anxious. His whole body hurt; he was suffering from several wounds, but still, what hurt him the most was not being able to talk to his girl.

- "Hey"- Paget whispered as she walked into the room with two cups of coffee- "Hello Marilyn, I brought you this."

- "Thank you, honey"- the two women hugged for a second, then the actress walked to her friend.

- "How do you feel?"

- "Like I was in a car crash, literally"- he answered and smiled- "I'm ok. My knee is still in place, which is amazing. I thought I was going to return to the crutches for another six months."

- "You are very lucky, your car is smashed... I can't believe you don't have a scratch."

- "I have many, many bruises, doesn't that count?"- Matthew whispered, still in pain.

- "I think it does"- his friend joked- "I got you these"- Paget opened a bag and put on the bed all the stuffed animals the young man had made- "I took all the stuff from your car, I had the feeling you might need these."

- "Thank you"- he softly smiled and looked at the handmade toys.

- "Everybody says hi"- Paget tried to take Matthew away from any sad thoughts he had- "Do you know when you will be discharged?"

- "No, the doctor said a couple more days."

- "Again, a car crash."

- "Yeah..."- Matthew smiled at his friend, and she smiled back- "Thank you for being here."

- "That's what friends do... hey, can I get you something to eat?"

- "I'm ok."

- "I'm not coming until tomorrow, so I'm gonna go get you some candy for later"- Paget turned around and left the room for a few minutes.

- "What time is it, mom?"

- "It's noon, baby"- she answered and walked to him, kissing his forehead- "Try to sleep a little more, I'll wake you up when she calls, ok?"- he nodded and closed his eyes. He really couldn't wait anymore.

Gerard looked at Joey warming up at the other side of the room, her eyes closed, her headphones on. He sighed, thinking she wasn't in love with him. She had never been. Not like he was, at least. She wasn't going to be his. Not without a fight. Could he win a battle against Matthew? He was a cheater, but Gerard was married. That made him a cheater too.

- "Hey!"- Mikey's hand smacking his arm took him from his thoughts- "Why are you staring at her?"

- "I was just... thinking about... nothing, I guess."

- "I'm starting to think maybe Frank is right"- and Gerard turned to his younger brother pretending to be insulted.

- "Don't be stupid."

- "Then stop drooling. You are not fooling anyone!"

- "Come on, kids! It's showtime!"- Jeffrey walked in clapping his hands- "Joey! You too!"- he yelled, and the girl took out her headphones.

- "What?"

- "Show, now! Come on!"

- "Sorry"- the girl smiled and sprinted over the band. Frank's arms locked around her as he stood in the hallway next to the stage and kissed her shoulder upon her Megadeth t-shirt.

- "Take care"- and the drummer rolled her eyes.

- "I'm gonna be sitting moving my arms. I don't see the danger."

- "I'm just saying"- she smiled, and she leaned to kiss his cheek.

- "You make it so hard to hate you, Jersey."

- "That's what my wife always says."

- "I love your wife so fucking much."

- "I love her too"- he chuckled- "Have you ever noticed our conversations always end up being weird?"- and she smiled.

- "That's 'cos you are so fucking weird, Frank"

Joey couldn't help but laugh in deep joy for a second. She loved her job and her bandmates. She was finally where she always wanted to get as a drummer. Her personal life was a mess, though. Was that the price to pay to be successful? Getting a shitty love life and a whole mess in your head?

- "I finally get what happened with Andy, in Devil Wears Prada... I hated that fucking movie, but shit, I feel just like her now."

The kids at that show were on fire, which helped the weary band perform better. It was getting harder and harder to keep on playing after all those months of touring. They all needed to get a few days off to sleep and do nothing. Traveling was exhausting. Joey had never thought about that until this leg of the tour.

- "Danke Germany!"- Gerard yelled, and the crowd yelled right away. Mikey turned his back to the kids and looked at Joey smiling. She looked happy when they were on stage. That's why he always kept an eye on her when they were performing.

- "Give me all your fucking money!"- Gerard shouted, announcing the next song- Well, are you ready, Ray?

- "Yeah!"

- "How about you, Frank?"- and Iero made the weirdest noises on the mic

- "How about you, Joey?"- and the girl widened her eyes smiling as Gerard stood in front of the drum, reaching out the mic to her.

- "Yeah!"- and Gerard grinned.

- "How about you, Mikey?"

- "Fucking ready!"

- "I think I'm alright! One, two, three, four!!"

It felt for a minute like she wasn't the supporting drummer but one of the band. And it felt incredible.

The hospital was busy. Nurses and doctors walked outside in the hallways. Matthew was trying to concentrate on anything, but he couldn't take his eyes off his phone. They had brought him lunch already, but he wasn't hungry- and Paget had left him an obscene amount of candy- so he left the tray untouched. He only had the jelly. And only because his mother forced him.

He was weary though, he felt hurt, physically beaten. He was taking it like a champ 'cos he didn't want to scare his mom, but in reality, he was shocked. He had never realized how short life could be. He had never had any kind of experience like this before, and this one showed him one thing: the important things in life are the simplest. The ones you take for granted.

- "What do I love the most in life? My family, watching my nephews grow up, my mom... Yami, my Yami's smile, her voice... everything about her"- Matthew's eyes were stuck in his cellphone's screen as he thought about everything that had happened in the last days- "If there is one thing I need every day for the rest of my life is having her next to me. I'm not gonna let her go, no matter what".

If he could travel in time and slap himself, he would. He would also kick himself in the nuts and never go to that party at all. But he couldn't. And he had to live with it. Somehow.

Joey yelled goodnight to her friends and ran out of the van to her room before anyone could say anything to her. On the ride back to the hotel, they had all been briefed about the next day. They were leaving at seven in the morning. They had to meet in the lobby. They had press and a radio interview in Copenhagen at one. And Joey had the chance to stay at the hotel and rest. Everybody told her to do so. And she didn't argue with that, she wanted to rest, and most of all, she didn't want to be at any interview or close to Gerard.

- "Goodnight, kids!"- she yelled and waved as she ran to the elevator. Gerard looked at her with a sorry glance, and his brother caught it right away.

- "Are you ok?"- Mikey asked and raised an eyebrow.

- "What? Yeah, I'm just tired"- the Way brothers looked at each other, both of them knowing the oldest was lying.

- "Sure... just don't let your exhaustion get in the way"- Mikey stated and walked away.

- "Wait, what the fuck?"- Gerard asked, making the, most likely, wrong decision to follow his younger brother.

- "Come on, Gerard! Stop denying it! You have a crush on her"- and Gerard groaned, exhausted from the same conversation. Mainly because he was running out of excuses to prove people wrong.

- "So do you! So does everybody! 'Cos you are all telling me the same shit over and over again when I don't!"- the brothers got into the elevator on their own and continued arguing.

- "I fucking know you! And I can't believe I didn't see it before! You are fucking drooling all the time! You look like a fucking teenager!"

- "Oh! shut up!"- Gerard frowned and crossed his arms on his chest- "I don't have a crush on her. I am a happily married man! Just because you have been obsessed with her ever since you met her doesn't mean so am I!" They stayed in silence for a couple of minutes until the door opened on their floor, and both stepped out of the elevator.

- "Have you tried to get anything with her?"- Mikey asked and followed his brother to his room.

- "I don't wanna talk about this"- Gerard simply answered.

- "Which means yes."

- "No, I haven't 'cos I don't like her! I have no feelings for her!"- stains of red hair dye were on Gerard's neck as he scratched it, tired of the conversation, and at the same time tired of denying the truth. One part of him wanted to tell his brother, to have someone to finally open up.

- "I don't want you to hurt her, Gerard."

- "Thank you for being concerned about her the most, instead of your brother"- Gerard snorted and opened his door, followed by his brother. He took out his shoes and laid on his bed like a dead man.

- "I care about her, and if you have feelings for her, you are fucked up!"

And suddenly, it was just too much for Gerard.

- "I know"- the singer whispered, and his brother's chest tightened at those words- "Do you think I want this? It's fucking agony! She stays as far away from me as possible, and she rejected me when I told her how I feel"- Gerard chuckled at his words- "Can you believe that? It's high school all over again! She keeps pushing me away each time I try to get closer to her, ever since the beginning."

Mikey widened his eyes, listening to his brother's confession, as he stood in front of him in shock.

- "You told her you like her?"

- "Yeah"- Gerard whispered and sighed, defeated. It was useless to deny the truth anymore- "I told her I loved her from day one."

- "Did you try to... kiss her?"

- "I succeeded, actually. After months of longing and thinking about it, I kissed her...."

- "What did she do?"- Mikey was whispering, not believing a word. Had Joey kissed his brother?

- "She stopped, told me to get away from her... and when I tried again, and she kissed me back. I thought, "Shit Gerard, you nailed it, she likes you too!" but then she called me Matthew"- Gerard's voice shook, and his brother looked at him, nearly shocked. Was he going to cry? Was he that affected by the drummer?

- "When did you..."

- "After the show in Valencia."

- "You sick bastard! She was drunk!!"- the youngest Way nearly yelled and kept walking across the room, brushing his hands against his face and making a serious effort not to hit his brother- "What the fuck Gerard?! She was intoxicated, and you tried to kiss her?"

- "I didn't try. I told you I succeeded! It was so good, it felt so fucking right"- the singer made a pause and wiped off the few tears that fell from his eyes.

- "I can't believe it! You abused her when she was drunk!" - but Gerard ignored the accusation and continued talking.

- "She wasn't drunk the first time, by the way"- and Mikey frowned.

- "You kissed her more than once!"

- "Yeah, that day you left me alone with her... it was so sweet, so tender..."

- "She was fucking depressed, crying, and affected by her boyfriend!! Gerard! What the fuck is your problem!! It's the sickest shit I've ever heard you do!"

- "Don't you think I feel like the shit too? I know I fucked it up! I just couldn't help it! I love her! I can't stand the fact she is suffering for an asshole who cheated on her! I need to fix her! I needed to..."- but Mikey didn't let him finish.

- "You are married. You don't have the moral to judge Gubler for cheating!"

- "I know"

- "And you love her? You are married! Don't you love Lynz anymore?"

- "I love her so much, Mikey! That's what's killing me too! 'Cos I love both of them! I wanna be with both! I need to have them both!"

- "Dude... that shit is sick!"- Mikey was shaken.

- "I know! That's the worst part. I know what I feel is wrong! I can't love Joey. I can't mess things with her 'cos she works with us and is fantastic as our drummer. But at the same time, it's like she is a magnet I can't keep away from! Like she is my earth, and I'm her moon, orbiting around her!"

Gerard sat down and started crying.

- "I don't know what's wrong with me! From day fucking one! I looked at her, and I knew she was going to be the end of me! And I've been dealing with this all along..."

Mikey had no idea what to do. He was in shock. Sure, he knew Gerard was weird around Joey, but he never thought it would be this bad. He always thought he didn't like her. And it turned out to be the complete opposite.

- "Until this morning, I was sure she was going to leave, not only for her stupid boyfriend but because of what happened..."

- "That's why she had been giving you the cold shoulder"- Mikey whispered, thinking out loud.

- "And I deserve it, I guess. I kissed her and told her I loved her... what the fuck is my problem?"

- "I don't know, but you really fucked it up"- Mikey nodded in silence at his statement and finally sat next to Gerard. His older brother brushed his hands against his face and wiped off the tears.

- "I feel I love her, you know? Like... a fucking piece of my heart I never knew was missing just appeared, and I need to keep her close, no matter what, 'cos if I don't, I'm gonna die."

- "Well, you are gonna have to learn to let that part go, 'cos there is no way, and I mean it, no way she is ever going to be with you."

Mikey was brutally honest, in part 'cos he was mad at Gerard, but mostly because he knew it was the truth. Joey wasn't in love with him. And even if she was, she would never let him leave his wife for her.

- "I know... and yet, I can't stop trying"- Gerard made a pause- "I hated you so bad for being so close to her... you are all so fucking close to her."

- "I always thought it was weird you were so distant."

- "I didn't know how to act around her. She smiles, and I have no fucking clue what to say."

- "You are fucked."

- "Yeah"- the two of them made a long pause.

- "You are gonna have to get rid of your feelings, Gerard."

- "I know... any clue how?"

- "No..."

- "And knowing right now she is talking to him, that shit kills me"- Mikey sighed. That was killing him too. But he didn't say a word.

The computer was on the bed. Joey sat in front of it, FaceTime was open, but she still couldn't find the guts to press "call." She just stared at the screen and sighed. She wanted to know about him, she was worried about his health after the accident. But she didn't know how to deal with it. With the whole "you broke my heart" part of the conversation.

- "Ok, let's do this. And you are not talking about any feeling, just about his health. It's gonna be a short call."

And not thinking about it again, she started the video call.

- "Hello baby!"- Marilyn's face filled the screen, and Joey's body shook with fear, anxiety, and excitement.

- "Hi! How are you?"

- "Great! How was the show?"

- "It was amazing! The kids were nuts today!"- and Joey yawned- "But I am dead, sorry. I just showered and put on my pajamas."

- "That's ok..."- there was a silence, Joey knew what was gonna happen, and she decided to treat it like a band-aid

- "And how's Matthew?"- she just ripped it off, pretending it didn't hurt

- "He is right here. He has been waiting for your call all day."

- "Mom!"- he whined, embarrassed. Joey had to bite her lips not to smile as she heard his voice somewhere near the phone. She felt her body shaking at that sound.

- "I'm gonna let you two kids talk. I'll be outside, bye honey!"

- "Bye Marilyn!"

Joey waved at the screen and noticed all the movements when the phone left the woman's hand. Two seconds later, Matthew's face filled the screen, and her heart stopped. He was bruised. He looked severely hurt. And yet, he had a massive smile on her lips as soon as he saw her.

His heart started beating so fast on his chest as soon as he laid eyes on her, he was sure one of the machines around him was going to start beeping. Neither of them said a word for a moment. They just stared.

- "FaceTiming him was a mistake. A normal call would have been so much better,"- Joey thought and took a deep breath before saying- "Hey, how do you feel?"

- "Good... I'm good. It looks worse than it is, maybe 'cos I get bruised a lot... 'cos I'm so white and... I'm a peach"- Matthew started rambling.

- "What happened?"- Joey stopped his rambling 'cos she knew he could go for hours.

- "A truck missed a red light and hit my car, but I'm ok, really... not even a broken bone."

- "What about your knee?"

- "It's still in place."

- "Now that's a miracle!"- Joey chuckled and regretted it right away, she was melting, and hearing Matthew's laughter like a cascade of joy didn't help either. Her heart kept racing, and her palms were sweating.

- "Yeah! I thought I was gonna have to spend another year in those crutches."

- "It's a good thing they are still in your closet."

- "A part of me knew I was stupid enough to injure myself again"- the actor smiled and shrugged. However, that movement hurt, and he involuntarily winced in pain.

- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah, I just... forgot that hurts"- Joey nodded and looked at him. She wanted to end that call before she would burst into tears, which was about to happen any second now.

He was the father of her child. They were having a baby together, and he had no idea. All the thoughts spinning around her head were too much. It scared her to think about how everything was going to be when it came to the moment to talk about it, and she was sure that the moment wasn't that one.

- "Well, you should rest. I just wanted to know if you were ok, and..."- the girl started saying, but Matthew stopped her.

- "Wait, no... don't hang up yet"- his voice was a plea, and desperation came from each word he spoke, even his eyes looked at her with sadness and longing- "Please talk to me."

- "We are talking. You are clearly in pain. Maybe you should rest."

- "Please, don't go. I needed to talk to you for so long."

- "No, Matthew."

- "I need you to listen. I need you to forgive me."

- "No, Matthew, I'm tired; I don't wanna do this, not now, not ever. I just called to know if you were ok. I can see you are not half as bad as I imagined, which makes me happy. But I don't wanna talk about us."

- "Fine, that's ok, we don't have to talk about us, let's talk about anything else."

- "Matthew"- Joey knew just talking to him about the weather was a threat. Why? 'Cos he was charming, and she loved him. She didn't want to forgive him, and seeing his face wasn't helping in keeping that resolution.

- "Please, tell me, how was your day?"- she sighed and looked away, locking her eyes in her nails- "How was the show?"

- "It was good"

- "When do you leave for Denmark?"

- "Tomorrow at seven."

- "It should be a long drive from Hamburg"- Matthew was honestly desperate to make conversation, and the subject made it obvious.

- "Jeffrey said four hours, time I plan to spend sleeping."

- "Are you doing any more press with the band?"- at that minute, anything that came through Gubler's head that could help him keep her in line was a good subject.

- "I hope not, at least not tomorrow"- Joey kept staring at her nails, avoiding his eyes. Matthew couldn't stop staring at her, sitting on her bed, in pajama, obviously exhausted but still talking to him. That was a good sign, right?

- "You looked gorgeous at the Valencia show"- he sort of whispered and saw her cheeks turning red of embarrassment- "I told you that was a great outfit."

- "Yeah... I remember"- she sighed and looked at him, raising an eyebrow- "So, did you actually watch it? I thought you would be working at the time."

- "I stopped everything and forced them to watch you play"- Joey chuckled at those words, and Matthew felt he was a tiny baby step closer to win her back- "I wasn't going to miss it. It was my chance to see you live, and you kicked ass." The girl felt the blush in her cheeks as she looked at her fingers again, playing with them on the blanket of the bed.

- "Thanks..."- Matthew stayed quiet for a moment, just looking at her.

- "You look so beautiful tonight"- but she raised her eyes and frowned

- "Don't"

- "Sorry"- he whispered and sighed- "So... Paget came to see me today"- that was the only thing that came to his mind

- "How is she?"

- "Good, she bought me so many candies I'm gonna have a sugar rush until Halloween"- and he chuckled.

- "I'm jealous. Mikey took away all my candy today."

- "Why?"- the boy frowned.

- "He said I can't have that much sugar"- and Joey bit her tongue. She couldn't eat that much sugar being pregnant. She was pregnant with Matthew's baby.

- "What is he? The sugar police?"- and the girl slightly smiled.

- "Yeah, I guess he is."

- "How is he?"

- "He hates you."

- "I guess everybody hates me, I hate me... mom hates me."

- "I surely doubt it."

- "Believe me, she does."

- "Anyway, we are not talking about that..."

- "Are we ever going to talk about that?"- and Joey knew the answer to that - "Yes, I guess we will... we have to talk, "But not about what you are thinking, cheater."

- "Good, great, yeah, awesome, we have to talk, I need to..."- but Joey stopped him again.

- "Not now, not today. When I come back to Los Angeles, we can meet, have a coffee and talk about it." Matthew nodded. He didn't have another choice but to agree with her terms. He wanted to talk to her, and he had to go along with her flow to win her back. Not along with his desires.

- "Do you want me to pick you from the airport?"

- "No thanks, I can take a cab."

- "You are gonna bring a million bags..."

- "I can handle it, don't worry"- her voice was so serious. Matthew knew he shouldn't insist.

- "Ok... how's your mom and dad?"

- "They are ok. They miss me."

- "I miss you too, so fucking much."

- "Ok, gonna hung up now."

- "I'm sorry, I just.... needed to see you."

- "And you saw me, and I wanted to know if you are ok, and now I know you are, so... I guess we are both..."- but no word came from Joey's lips for a second. She just zoned out, looking at Matthew- "I guess I should go, I have to get up real early, and I'm tired."

- "Of course, I don't wanna keep you up."

- "I'll call you when I get to Los Angeles."

- "Yes, please, let me know you are ok."

- "Do you know when you'll be discharged?"

- "In two days."

- "Good"- she nodded and bit her lips- "Ok, so, talk to you in a few days."

- "Yes... well... would it be ok if I called you sometime?"- she didn't know what to say- "Or text you, or something... just to make sure you are alright."

- "I'm alright."

- "I still get worried about you... traveling and all"- she looked at him, there was so much sorrow in his eyes, in his words.

- "You can text me if you want"- and a sigh of relief left his lips.

- "Thanks... now go to sleep."

- "Yeah, I will."

- "I love you"- he said, knowing those words might upset her, but he wasn't able to keep them in his chest any longer- "And I swear I'm gonna do whatever it takes to show you how sorry I am for fucking things up."

- "Bye, Matthew. Take care and say hello to your mom from me"- Joey ignored his last words and watched him for a few more seconds.

- "Talk to you later"- he murmured, fighting the tears that kept coming to his eyes

- "Bye"- Joey hung up and shut down the computer. In less than a second, she started crying, her heartbreaking and beating filled with love at the same time. Seeing him, hearing him. It was all too much.

- "How can I stop fucking loving you?! How on earth can you stop loving someone?!"

And as odd as it might be, Gerard was asking himself the very same question a few rooms away from her.

::: Denmark, March 15th, 2011 :::

Ray's arm felt numb underneath Joey's neck. But he didn't want to move it and wake her up. They were at the back of the bus, probably an hour away from Copenhagen. The girl had slept most of the trip after puking breakfast. The two of them had spent the whole journey there, with Mikey, mostly sleeping. They were all exhausted.

- "Hey guys!"- until Frank walked in and woke Mikey and Joey up- "Sorry, I didn't know you were sleeping"- he stood at the door with a sorry glance- "I wanted to ask you if you wanted to do the setlist now, 'cos we have been playing the same one for the last three shows, and it would be nice to make a few changes"- Ray nodded as Joey sat down, yawning.

- "Are we there yet?"

- "Not yet, Bug"- Ray smiled and moved his arm, feeling numbness and tingling- "Do you feel ok?"

- "Yeah, I'm hungry."

- "Here"- Mikey quickly grabbed a bag and gave her a cereal bar- "I got you healthy snacks when we stopped a while ago"- and he smiled, showing her a paper bag- "We've got everything you need to keep my nephew growing healthy."

- "Thanks"- she whispered, feeling awkward still just talking about her pregnancy like a common thing. She still didn't (or couldn't) believe she was pregnant.

- "So, setlist"- Frank sat next to his friends and started writing. They were halfway there when Iero turned to Joey and smiled- "Bug, pick a song"- and she frowned.

- "Why?"

- "We've been shitty friends. We never ask you what you wanna play."

- "That's 'cos I... you know, that's not my job, you are the band, you choose your songs."

- "And I choose you, like a Pokemon"- Frank grinned- "What would you like to play?"- Joey scratched her eyes and yawned again.

- "Vampires."

- "Done!"- and Frank wrote it down- "What else?"- the girl thought about it for a second

- "House of Wolves"- Ray smiled.

- "Loving your choices."

- "Thank you"- Joey finished her cereal bar and smiled- "Thank you, Mikey."

- "You are welcome, Bug"- a hum on the girl's phone caught her attention. It was a text from Matthew.

- "Hope you are having a nice trip"- and her heart raced, her cheek blushed, and her friends frowned.

- "Are you two in better terms?"- Ray asked, knowing neither Mikey nor Frank was going to ask without insulting Matthew.

- "Let's say I'm wrapping my mind around the fact I have to tell him he will be a father. I talked to him about his health, and that was it... nothing about us."

- "But he is texting you"- Mikey pointed out the obvious.

- "Yeah... but we are not back together. And I don't want to forgive him, so I'm ok"- the all nodded- "I just know I'm gonna have to deal with the whole baby thing with him, and I don't know if I wanna be mad at him the whole time"- they all nodded again- "I don't know what I'm doing"- she whispered.

- "If you want, we can say it's my baby"- Frank said with an honest smile- "I give them my last name. Matthew won't have a reason to be close to you, and everything will be awesome"- Joey chuckled at the idea.

- "You are so funny, Iero."

- "I wasn't joking. I can convince Jamia to go through the whole thing."

- "Shut up!"- Joey punched softly Frank's arm and smiled.

- "She wants to talk to you, by the way. Jamia"- the guitarist said and kept writing down in his notebook, avoiding making eye contact with the girl, just in case she would get upset.

- "That's cool."

- "I mean about your baby, in case you need any help... if you want to ask her things... she is there"- Frank finally looked at Joey and bit his lips- "I'm sorry I told her about that"- he made a pause, and Joey shook her head.

- "It's ok. I love Jamia... and I'm sure I'm gonna text her with a million questions in the next nine months, so... thanks"- the girl smiled and messed with Frank's hair. The four of them stayed quiet. Mikey was stuck at his book, Frank looked at the setlist and Ray at their schedule for the day.

- "Where's Gerard?"- Toro asked and looked around. Joey turned to the window, Mikey's eyes stuck at her. He was dying to talk to her about what had happened with his brother. He wanted to know her side of the story.

- "He is at his bunk"- Frank simply replied- "He has been there since we got into the bus."

- "Good, stay away from her,"- Mikey thought and went back to his book. Maybe his brother was doing the right thing for once.

It was three in the morning, and Matthew woke up for the hundredth time that night. It was hard to sleep at the hospital. There were many noises all night long, and nurses that came to put an eye on him. Just two more days, and he could go home. That idea made him happy. Six more days and Joey was going to be back in Los Angeles. The hum of his phone took him from his thoughts, and a smile lodged on his lips immediately.

- "Already in Denmark"- Joey had answered his earlier message.

- "How was the trip?"- he quickly typed and waited, staring at the screen. Joey looked at her phone and held her breath. She was lying on her bed, knowing she wasn't going to get any sleep. The tv was on, the sound in the background of her room made her feel a little less alone.

- "I slept most of the way"- she simply replied and closed her eyes. She felt like a schoolgirl talking with her crush. Decided to avoid her phone, the girl surfed channels for a while. But an incoming text took her complete attention. She wanted to read it so badly, but she didn't want to want to read it. If that made any sense at all.

- "I'm jealous. I can't sleep in this hospital,"- Matthew wrote and sighed. He looked around his room and his eyes laid on the stuffed animals still on the couch by his bed. The ones he had made for her. He just hoped she would like them.

- "Hospitals sucks,"- Matthew chuckled. He could almost listen to her voice saying that as he read it.

- "Food is the worst. I've been living on Paget's candies,"- but that message, Joey didn't reply. He waited for at least ten minutes, but no answer appeared on the screen. He closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't want to push things too fast, but at the same time, he couldn't help it, he needed to talk to her for hours, like before.

Joey was curled in bed, surfing channels, her phone hidden underneath a pillow. She knew talking to Gubler was a bad idea 'cos she loved him. So instead, she hid her phone from her and glued her eyes to the screen. Bad luck for her, "The Aquatic Life with Steve Zissou" was on. It was like life wasn't helping her at all. Matthew was everywhere. Including the movie she watched.

- "I should go get something to eat,"- she typed, giving up at the temptation. Gubler opened his eyes. It took the girl over half an hour to reply.

- "With the guys?"- he wrote quickly

- "No, I'm alone today, they are doing their band shit"- she sat on the bed and put on her shoes- "Talk to you later"- and finished the conversation.

- "Take care,"- Matthew answered quickly. He smiled and closed his eyes, sighing- "Baby steps, Gubler. Baby steps."

- "What the fuck are you doing, asshole?!"- Joey slapped herself mentally- "Stop giving him hopes. You are not getting back together."

Mikey wasn't himself that day. He wasn't mentally there at any of the interviews. His brother was in love with Joey. The thought of Gerard trying to kiss her was hunting him. It was sick. And when she was drunk, when she was sad. He even felt guilty for leaving her with him. Like he was responsible for his mistake.

- "And why the fuck didn't she tell me?! This is huge?! Doesn't she trust me? Isn't this important? I thought we were brother and sister! This is something you share with your brother!"

- "Mikey?"- Frank moved his hand in front of the bassist's face and frowned- "Are you here?"

- "Sorry, I spaced out... what is it?"

- "The interview is over; we can go"- Mikey looked around. He was the only one still sitting at the radio studio.

- "Right."

- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah."

- "You are quiet."

- "I don't usually talk a lot in interviews."

- "Touché"- Iero chuckled and tapped on his friend's back- "Tired?"

- "Weary"

- "Just a few more days, hang in there"- Mikey nodded and walked with his friend. Gerard looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He didn't reply, not even with a gesture. Mikey just continued walking. He knew what he had to do. He just found it weird.

- "Hey"- he whispered, making sure his brother wasn't going to overhear his conversation and held his cellphone close- "Are you feeling good?"

- "Yeah"- Joey rolled in bed and sighed- "I already had lunch half hour ago, and it's still in my stomach, so I guess I'm awesome"- Mikey smiled.

- "Were you sleeping?"

- "No, just rolling in bed and coloring mandalas from time to time, watching tv."

- "We are going to the hotel now."

- "Great! Are you gonna nap?"

- "I wanted to hang out with you."

- "Great! Bring candies."

- "I'll bring healthy snacks for my nephew"- Joey sighed at those words. She wasn't ready to start talking about her baby.

- "A tiny little Snicker, for Christ Sakes. For your niece."

- "I'll think about it."

Joey watched The Nightmare Before Christmas, trying to wrap her head around the fact she was going to have a baby. Sure, she always thought about it, but not at twenty-six. Yes, she wanted to have a baby with Matthew, but not under those circumstances.

- "I guess I'll have to make the best of it"- she sighed, rubbing her belly sweetly- "You are gonna have Halloween every day, I swear"- Joey whispered- "I'm gonna make sure you've got everything I never had. Your dad is gonna go nuts when we tell him... I still don't know what kind of nuts, but I guess we'll have to figure it out."

She made a pause, thinking about Matthew telling her he wanted to fill their house with babies. Maybe he was going to be excited after all. Maybe.

- "Your uncle Mikey is gonna spoil you, that I am sure about"- the knock on the door took Joey from her conversation with her belly. Mikey stood at the other side, smiling and holding a fun size Snicker bag.

- "I'm going to give you one every day. That's gonna be your only candy, ok?"

- "Thank you!!"- Joey walked in, jumping in excitement, making her friend chuckle. He was slightly mad at her, but still, he couldn't be mean to her- "How was work?"

- "Boring, I think I fell asleep during most of the interviews"- the girl chuckled and sat indian style on her bed- "I can see you are watching kids movies already"- the bassist raised an eyebrow staring at the screen.

- "I happen to love this movie... I'm a Halloween kind of girl."

- "Yeah, I know"- Mikey stood in front of Joey, chewing a Snicker.

- "Aren't you going to sit down and watch this masterpiece with me?"

- "I need to talk to you about something first."

- "Shoot"- but Way didn't know how to start that conversation. He thought about it the whole morning, but he still had no clue. So instead, he mumbled some unintelligible words- "What is it?"

- "I just..."

- "Is it because I've been wearing a lot of your hoodies? I'm sorry, the ones I brought are Matthew's, and I don't feel like wearing his clothes."

- "No Bug, it's not that."

- "'Cos I'm wearing Frank's too... which is pretty weird 'cos he is my size..."

- "No, Joey. It's not about that."

- "Then why are you so serious?"

- "'Cos you never told me you kissed my brother"- and Joey's face fell.

- "Did he tell you?"

- "Clearly... what the fuck?"

- "I don't know!!"

- "Why didn't you tell me?!"

- "'Cos if I never told anyone, I could pretend it never happened! And I wish that never happened!"

- "What the fuck was that about?!"

- "I don't know, I felt like the shit, he kissed me, I didn't stop him right away..."

- "Do you like him?"

- "No!"

- "Do you love him?"- Mikey was serious about his questions- "'Cos he is sure he loves you."

- "I don't love him, Mikey. We both know there is only one shitty person I love"- Joey laid back on the bed and covered her face with her hands.

- "Do you think I'm proud? I should have never done that! and I definitely shouldn't have let him get to the point he got"- Mikey frowned.

- "What?"

- "So he didn't tell you he wanted to fuck?"- the girl simply replied- "When I was drunk... we kissed, at a certain point we made out, but I wasn't very conscious of what he was doing... I just... in my intoxication... I thought he was Matthew."

- "What the fuck?"- Way wide opened his eyes and turned to his friend in shock.

- "Yeah, it was sick..."- she whispered, embarrassed.

- "Joey, that's abuse!"

- "What? no!"- the girl gasped.

- "Joey, my brother tried to abuse you"- Mikey yelled- "You were drunk!"

- "Yeah, but..."

- "You were nearly unconscious, and he tried to make out with you?"

- "No! No! I mean, a part of me knew what I was doing. I just... didn't know who I was doing it with."

Honestly, that didn't sound like an excellent explanation of the facts. Joey was in denial of how bad things had gotten with Gerard.

- "Bug, that's not right! He knew exactly what he was doing, and he shouldn't have done that to you if you were drunk!"- Mikey's words resonated in Joey's head.

- "He didn't try to rape me. I mean, he stopped when I realized he wasn't Matthew... and honestly, I'm not trying to defend him, but I was pretty disgusted by my actions right away!"

Joey stood up and looked at her friend right in the eyes. At that moment, she decided the best she could do was take the pushy scene from the story, when Gerard didn't want to let her go. It was better to forget that moment and pretended it never really happened.

- "The first time he kissed me, I thought making out with your brother was the perfect revenge against Matthew, mostly 'cos he was always saying Gerard had a thing for me"- the girl sighed and pouted at her friend- "Who was ever going to think he was right?"- Mikey wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of your head- "I just didn't know that one kiss made him think we could do it again when I was drunk."

- "Please don't do stupid shit like this again"- she nodded

- "Your shirt stinks"- she joked, making her best to stop the serious conversation 'cos she couldn't stand arguing with Mikey, and less talking about that subject.

- "Sorry, I ran out of clean clothing 'cos I've got a friend who keeps wearing everything I own"- he chuckled, and Joey smiled, letting him go slowly to go back to the bag of candies- "I said just one a day."

- "Can I get an extra one today? Please?"

- "No, you are grounded, 'cos you did something incredibly stupid"- they stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, until Mikey smiled- "Fine, but only today"- she girl smiled and landed a kiss on Mikey's cheek.

- "Thank you. Besides, Ray is the only one who can ground me around here."

- "Right"- Joey chewed her Snicker and laid back in bed, tapping the spot next to her- "There's still one more thing."

- "Oh shit! I don't want to have more serious conversations. We've had enough of those already."

- "He claims to love you"- Mikey just said, and Joey closed her eyes, wincing.

- "I know! And I find it as stupid as false! We've barely talked this whole time! He has no idea who I am, what I like, or anything! He is just talking with his cock!"

- "And what are you gonna do about it?"

- "Stay as far from him as possible"- Mikey laid next to Joey and held her hand- "Do you think the others suspect anything?"

- "Frank, for sure. He has been arguing about it for days now."

- "Shit!"

- "But hey, hey, don't worry"- Mikey tapped on Joey's hand- "It's gonna be ok."

- "Bróðir"- the girl made a pause and never unglued her eyes from the screen- "I'm gonna have to leave."

- "No!"- his voice sounded serious and certain- "You don't have to!"

- "I'm nothing but trouble! This tour is more a soap opera than a job at this point! Breaking up with Matthew and having all of you taking care of me, now I'm pregnant, your brother claims to love me." Joey turned to Mikey and cut him a shy smile. - "Face it, if you had hired a male drummer, you would have had a quiet tour. Nothing to worry about, not all this fucking drama to deal with."

- "If we had hired anyone else, I would have had a miserable tour"- Mikey simply replied and messed with Joey's hair as the two of them returned to watch the movie- "So stop saying nonsenses."

- "I'm so sorry..."

- "Knock it off"

- "And I don't want you to be mad at your brother."

- "I'm not mad"- Joey raised an eyebrow and looked at Mikey- "Fine, I hate him right now, 'cos he has been acting like a fucking crazy jerk, and honestly, he nearly abused you, Joey!"

- "Don't hate him... let's pretend none of that weird shit ever happened, which is what I'm planning to do."

- "Fine"

- "And don't get all weird."

- "Fine"- Mikey sounded a little annoyed.

- "And don't make a fuzz if I stay away from him."

- "I'll support you, I'll even stay away from him myself."

- "Don't. He is fucked up. Maybe if he opened up with you, it's because he needs company or someone to help him overcome this... madness."

Mikey turned to Joey again and sighed. He disagreed with her, and he was planning to stay away from his brother and keep him away from Joey as well.

- "And how was your talk with Matthew?"- Joey's heart raced just by hearing his name- "The red cheeks are giving you away."

- "It was... ok, I guess."

- "And now you are texting"- she sighed and huffed.

- "I'm gonna have a baby with him, Mikey. It's hard."

- "And you love him."

- "Not the point... and that's all I'm saying about that subject."

- "Ok"- Mikey wrapped an arm around Joey's neck, and she rested her head on him- "Let's watch the movie before we have to leave for the arena."

Mikey wasn't mad at Joey. He was scared she might consider leaving the band. He loved having her there. She was honestly his anxiety shield, and he couldn't deal with that tour without her. Not at the moment. He was alone. He felt alone, and she was the one with him always. Ray had Christa, Frank had Jamia, Gerard had Lynz (and it was now obvious: he also had a stalking problem).

Mikey had Joey. At least when they were on the road. Hiding in their friendship and brotherhood was the only way he could handle loneliness. Or to avoid it.

taglist @all-tings-diego @worryd0ll

Do you wanna talk about this story, or be added to the taglist? send me a message here

#gerard way #Mikey Way #Matthew Gray Gubler #Frank Iero #frank iero #ray toro #babymetaldoll writes #mgg fanfic #mcr fanfic

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longforyesterday · 5 years ago

Photo

Ok. Here we are. Long post(/rant) ahead in response to the photo above. Sorry for my English, but I had to get these things off my chest. Thanks to everyone who will take the time to read this post, and tell me what you think!

1. They had all agreed to shut up about the “divorce” and he announced it to promote his album.

First of all, it was Allen Klein (one of the main villain in this wretched story) that had convinced John - who was very enamoured with him, his persona and his promises - not to tell anyone about it. In late December 1969 John, however, told journalist Ray Connolly, who didn’t say a word. Klein wanted to make as much money as he possibly could from the band, and announcing the break-up would have certainly damaged that prospect. Paul did it in April 1970. That’s four months of limbo, of nothing. He was in the midlle of an uncertain situation, with a manager who profited off them and their work and that he didn’t want, his bandmates and closest friends against him. Paul loved the Beatles and being a Beatle, he never wanted them to break up but the time had come. George had wanted out for years but never left for good. We all know John had lost interest in the band and had already started working with Yoko. I feel like Ringo didn’t want the band to break-up, but just went along with the other two, hoping that Paul would eventually agree with them. Releasing a solo album (that he put together without any help from the other three) while staying in the Beatles under Klein, with no hope of a follow-up to Abbey Road, in a tense situation, after John’s “divorce” private announcement, alone against the other three would have meant - for Paul - that everything he made from it would have gone to Klein for the most part. Of course he didn’t want that. Let’s not act like this didn’t affect Paul at all. It must also be mentioned that, while he was working on his solo album, Allen Klein and John had contacted Phil Spector to work on Get Back/Let It Be, which had been shelved.

Back in Beatles headspace, Paul sat in a room at Cavendish Avenue and, with fresh ears, reviewed the results of the second version of the Get Back LP. To his mind, the music was stark, unadorned, frighteningly bare, but ultimately thrilling. Klein, meanwhile, bluntly deemed it ‘a crock of shit’ and conspired with Lennon to bring in Phil Spector, who had just overseen the rousing production of ‘Instant Karma!’, to rework the tapes. Unknown to McCartney, Spector booked studio time in March and began slathering strings and brass, fairytale harp and aaahing choir onto ‘The Long And Winding Road’, making it sound hopelessly corny, like a BBC orchestra backing Engelbert Humperdinck. At this stage, however, Paul remained unaware of this development, his thoughts somewhere else entirely. Secluded in his music room at Cavendish Avenue, McCartney began recording his first solo album.

Tom Doyle, Man On The Run

Then came a letter (maybe it’s just me, but I find it a little passive-aggressive) from the rest of the Beatles.

Ringo Starr stood on the doorstep of McCartney’s house at Cavendish Avenue, unaware that he was about to precipitate the end of The Beatles. His tricky diplomatic mission, which he had chosen to accept in his role as the chirpy drummer, was to convince his increasingly estranged bandmate that there was an unacceptable clash of release dates between the long-delayed Get Back – now renamed Let It Be – and Paul’s freshly minted eponymous solo album, which was due to be issued only a week before. With him, he had a letter, dated 31 March 1970, handwritten by John Lennon and co-signed by George Harrison. It read: ‘Dear Paul, We thought a lot about The Beatles and yours [sic] LPs – and decided it’s stupid for Apple to put out two big albums within 7 days of each other. So we sent a letter to EMI telling them to hold your release date ’til June 4th (there’s a big Apple-Capitol convention in Hawaii then). We thought you’d come round when you realised that The Beatles album was coming out on April 24th. We’re sorry it turned out like this – it’s nothing personal. Love, John and George.’ Paul – his patience already strained, his temper on a hair-trigger – invited his friend inside and very quickly absorbed this information. Then he erupted. ‘I told him to eff off,’ Paul says. ‘Everyone, to my mind, was completely treating me like dirt. It was kind of like, “We’re the big guys, we’re the grownups.” And I said, “No way, man. Get out.”’ Ringo swiftly departed with the sound of Paul’s fury ringing in his ears. McCartney refused to budge and his solo album was released on 17 April 1970, forcing Let It Be back another two weeks to 8 May. It was the moment when Paul McCartney finally gave up on The Beatles, the point where he mentally quit the group.

Tom Doyle, Man On The Run

Of course the news provoked public outrage, and Paul - trying to set the record straight - later said

‘It was all a misunderstanding,’ he protested. ‘I never intended the statement to mean “Paul McCartney quits Beatles”. I didn’t leave The Beatles. The Beatles have left The Beatles, but no one wants to be the one to say the party’s over’

Tom Doyle, Man On The Run

but John was furious because he had wanted to announce it to the world and Paul had beaten him to it. He didn’t announce it to promote his own solo efforts, he wasn’t the type of person to do such a thing: Paul left that limbo he didn’t want to stay in and did what had to be done, even though it was painful. His first solo album resented from the announcement, and McCartney was destroyed by critics for ages because of it, not because of the songs, and by John, George and Ringo too.

2. “He sued the Beatles”

Yes, he sued them, that’s a fact. He sued them in December 1970, at the end of an year during which he had received worldwide hate and criticism for his actions and for his album. He could have sued the other three immediately after the release of McCartney or Let It Be (and he was booed during screenings of the movie), but procrastinated and thought a lot about it. He also had a nervous breakdown because he felt worthless and useless and because of that difficult situation within the group (which at that point didn’t exist anymore) and with Klein. We could have lost him if it hadn’t been for Linda. There was no other escape from that situation. He brought his former bandmates to court with a heavy heart. He “killed” the Beatles, but he also saved them from their manager. In the end they all recognised Paul was right about Klein, and he did them a favour by freeing them from that shark and from Apple.

3. “It’s a drag”

Imagine having just learned of your close friend’s sudden, terrible death at the hands of psycopath. Imagine burying yourself in your work, in the studio to deal with your grief, and crying your eyes out all the while (George Martin was there with him, and I trust George Martin). Then you come out of the studio and a journalist shoves a microphone in your face, prying, asking you for a reaction to the sad news you’ve been trying to deal with for hours. He probably was still in denial. Everyone has a different reaction to death and grief.

4. “He lost their songs to his little Jackson mate”

Paul and Michael had worked together on two singles, and MJ had hung out with the McCartneys in their Scottish estate. He had also asked Paul for financial advice, and he suggested investing in song-publishing. The Beatles catalogue was up for sale and Jackson seized the opportunity. Of course Paul didn’t think MJ would go after their songs and was upset about it (eight years of his and his former bandmates’ hard work in another man’s hands? I would be furious) and he and Yoko weren’t able to outbid Michael and to get the songs back, which only happened ten years ago.

5. The credits for ‘Yesterday’

Every song in the Beatles catalogue that wasn’t a cover, written jointly with Ringo or written by George was credited to Lennon-McCartney, even when they wrote and composed separately (especially after 1967). Paul and John also agreed that the credits could be reversed, if either of them wanted to, on any future releases. When I first got into the Beatles, I thought that that was a good arrangement, but in my book the name of the main composer should go first. For example,in my opinion, A Day In The Life is correctly credited to Lennon-McCartney, but Eleanor Rigby, which was Paul’s creation with some input by John, should be McCartney-Lennon. But this is just my opinion. Now, Yesterday. We all know Yesterday was and is Paul’s baby. John repeatedly said he had nothing to do with it. In Wings Over America (1976), Paul reversed the credits for five Beatles songs, and John didn’t say a word about it. In 1996, before the release of Anthology 2, Paul asked Yoko to reverse them only for Yesterday, and she disagreed. He didn’t ask her to remove John’s name. After Yoko’s refusal, (probably unbeknownst to Paul) Linda, who was at the height of her chemo treatment, phoned her to ask the same thing, only to be answered “That’s never going to happen”. She could have been more empathetic and polite. Maybe she refused beause Yesterday is the most covered song of all time and still makes a lot of money?

6. “Salieri and Mozart”

Some people may argue that I’m bringing Yoko into this for no reason whatsoever, but - actually - there is a reason. The comparison with Salieri and Mozart was made by Yoko herself in a BBC interview in December 1997, when Linda was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. Put yourself in Paul’s shoes. Your wife is dying and your best friend’s widow rubs salt into the wound and describes you as the Salieri to her late husband’s Mozart. Common knowledge has it that the two composers were enemies, and that Salieri even poisoned Mozart, but in reality the Italian musician was Wolfgang’s mentor and tutor, and we probably wouldn’t have had Mozart without Salieri. If you choose to make that comparison just as Yoko made it, you should keep in mind the historical truth, and that Salieri was essential. The person who made the comment said that Paul is the modern equivalent of Mozart, and for a reason. Mozart had been a musical prodigy since his childhood, and Paul was and is still considered by many an all-round musician and multi-instrumentalist. People who worked with the Beatles like George Martin and Geoff Emerick, their sound engineer, even said that he was the most musically talented of the four. He also composed Yesterday in his sleep, for heaven’s sake! You can have your favourite among the four Beatles, but you can’t deny his talent. (The commentator isn’t doing that, but a lot of people did it in the past and still do to this day.)

7. *I’m not going to repeat those last words*

Read up on his life and work, dear commentator, and then tell me if you still think that. And his solo work shouldn’t be dismissed like that. Maybe I’m Amazed? Another Day? Band on the Run? Live and Let Die? Here Today? I could go on. (The other former Beatles wrote some clunkers too, let’s not forget that). I think that many of the nasty, horrible comments about Paul come from what John said about him immediately after the break-up. John regretted them later, walked back on them, apologised and made peace with Paul (who never badmouthed him in the press), but the media ignored that and continued spreading lies. Paul wasn’t and isn’t perfect, neither of them was. A lot of people (mainly boomers) just like to act like John was Saint John of Peace from Liverpool and never did anything wrong, while the other three were inferior to him and evil people, especially Paul. Nowadays (thankfully) people tend to be objective and to not believe the old whitewashing propaganda that has been perpetuated by the Lennon Estate. But this post is not the place for that.

#i've written a testament #but it was worth it #i'm going to tag john too because i mentioned him a lot #paul mccartney #john lennon #the beatles #rant

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the--blackdahlia · 5 years ago

Text

Kicked Out (Duff x Steven)

Title: Kicked Out

Summary: Axl kicks Steven out of the band when Duff's not around.

Warnings: Drug use, language, overdose, alcohol abuse, Axl being a dick

AN: This is an AU where Steven's dismissal from GNR was during Nikki's drug days.

“You’re out,” Axl snapped at Steven. The two had been arguing from the moment Steven had stepped into the rehearsal room.

“What?” Steven looked up at the redhead, who was glaring him down.

“You heard me. You don’t contribute, you’re usually late, and your fucking addiction is getting in the way,” Axl snapped. Steven glanced over at Slash, wanting him to stand up and say Steven wasn’t the only one doing smack or drinking, but the guitarist said nothing. Like sharing a rig meant nothing to him. “Get out.”

“Axl…”

“Get. Out. Steven.” Axl sneered. Izzy and Slash watched the drummer’s shoulders slump as he got his things and walked out of the rehearsal room.

“Jesus Rose,” Izzy sighed. “Way to kick the kid when he’s down.”

“Should’ve been a fucking team player,” Axl sighed. “I got a guy lined up to take his spot.”

“Yeah, but who’s gonna tell Duff when he gets here?” Slash pointed out. Axl paused for a moment then shrugged.

“Not my problem anymore,” Axl shrugged. “Duff’ll get over it. And you guys are gonna fucking love Matt.”

****

Steven walked into the apartment he had been sharing with the bassist for a few years now. What had started out as a roommate situation had turned into something more. Steven half expected to come into the apartment to see Duff on the couch, deciding to skip practice because he could. But he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

That’s when Steven’s mind started getting the best of him. Duff had been late to practice and wasn’t here because he didn’t want to see Steven. Because he knew Axl was going to kick him to the curb like yesterday’s trash and he didn’t want to see the heartbreak spread on his boyfriend’s face.

That was, if Duff wasn’t breaking up with him too.

Steven dropped the bag that had his drum sticks and other items in it on the floor. He went to the kitchen, seeing some half opened bottles of vodka in the fridge as well as some new ones. He grabbed a brand new one and started downing it. He was sure that Duff would be pissed that he drank all his vodka, but Steven just didn’t want to feel anything anymore. He wanted to drink until he couldn’t move.

But as he emptied the bottle not long after coming home, it did nothing to ease the pain. Instead, it amplified the words Axl had hissed at him. So Steven reached for another bottle and started to chug it. But each drop just made the words louder and louder to the point that Steven just chucked the bottle across the apartment.

The band meant the world to him. He thought he was contributing just as much as everyone else. Yeah, he wasn’t as great of a songwriter as the others, but Axl never wanted to listen to anything he offered, so he just gave up. Axl didn’t write as many of their songs as people thought. He would throw out a word or two but then demanded that his name get added to the credits for his contributions.

The more Steven thought about it, the more upset he got. So he headed over to the phone, took a deep breath, and dialed a number, hoping the other person would be home.

“Yeah?” A voice answered.

“Sixx? It’s Steven. Get your ass over here. Bring the good shit,” Steven told him.

“Why the fuck should I?” Nikki asked. “The good shit is expensive.”

“I’ll pay you,” Steven told him. “Whatever you want. I just know the dealers give you better shit than they give me.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. Give me like ten minutes. Fucking hell,” Nikki groaned. “You owe me big time Adler.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you whatever you want,”

“Those are dangerous words drummer,” Nikki’s voice was deep and sent a shiver down Steven’s spine. It was almost like talking to the devil.

Guess that’s what happens when you screw around with black magic while working on Shout at the Devil. You become the thing you were shouting at.

“I’ll see you soon Sixx,” Steven hung up and ran a hand down his face. He honestly thought Duff would’ve came through the door. He thought that would’ve been a sign not to call Nikki, not to ask for drugs, not to want to get high with this much vodka in his system. But he didn’t. Because he was in on Axl’s plan and they were probably all laughing it up at Steven’s expense.

Steven fiddled with a chain around his neck. Duff rarely played with a pick these days, but back when they first met, after Steven got turned down by London and Duff was fresh to LA and in need of a band, he used one. And he laced it on a chain and put it around Steven’s neck when Road Crew broke up, not long before the two of them remet up with Slash and found Axl and Izzy.

It hung there all the time, but right now, it’s weight felt really heavy. Steven sighed and slipped it off his head, laying it on the coffee table. He kept staring at it until he heard a loud bang on the door. Steven opened the door and saw Nikki standing there, towering over him. Fuck, why did everyone he hung out with have to be so much taller than him.

“Hey,” Nikki gave him a smirk. “You gonna let me in?” Steven stepped to the side to let the bassist in. “Shit man, you guys got a nice set up.”

“Uh, yeah,” Normally, when Steven was hanging out with Nikki, Slash or Robin Crosby were there as well. And it was never at Steven’s place. Nikki flopped down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table.

“You know, you pulled me away from a very good bed with a very good partner,” Nikki chuckled.

“Sorry,” Steven mumbled.

“It’s cool. Just anxious to use my favor card at some point,” Nikki smirked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steven shook his head. “You got it?” Steven reached into the fridge for another bottle of Duff’s vodka before going to sit over by Nikki.

“Not much for foreplay, are you?” Nikki laughed. “Yeah, I got it. Give me a minute. Drink your damn vodka.” Steven took a drink as he watched Nikki get the drug ready. Nikki had done it so many times that he could do it while watching TV or anything else. “Turn on the TV,” Nikki told Steven.

“What? Why?” Steven looked confused.

“I wanna see if there’s anything good on,” Nikki shrugged. He looked over at Steven. "What? You think I came all the way over here to shoot you up and leave? I'm gonna use it and I like to watch TV."

"Oh, ok," Steven nodded. Nikki smiled as he got the drug to the right consistency. Steven flipped the TV on to whatever channel they had had on last.

"Haven't seen you around the hangouts much," Nikki made small talk as he got ready.

"Uh, haven't actually done anything in a month," Steven admitted.

"One month sober? What made you change your mind?"

"Axl kicked me out," Steven sighed. "I'd even been writing songs. He just didn't want to even look at them." Steven looked down at his hands.

"Well, if you knew guitar, I'd convince the others to make us a five piece. But Tommy ain't sharing his drum kit with anyone," Nikki chuckled. "Think you can handle a normal dose?"

"I wouldn't see why not," Steven nodded. A dark smirk spread on nikki's face and Steven started regretting it instantly. "Come here babe."

"Don't call me that," Steven sighed.

"Then quit being so cute," Nikki licked his lips as he tied the tourniquet on Steven's arms. "So many nice veins." Steven just took another big gulp of the clear liquid. He didn't even look as Nikki filled up the needle and injected it into Steven's arm.

And instantly, Steven could feel something wasn't right.

"There we go. All done," Nikki patted his cheek. "Feel better?"

"No not really…" Steven admitted.

"Give it time," Nikki tied up his own arm to inject himself while Steven stood up, stumbling some. "Where you going? You're gonna miss this block of videos."

"I'm not hurling in here," Steven barely could get his feet to listen to him as he tried to take steps. Nikki shrugged and turned his attention to the TV. Steven snagged the chain with Duff’s guitar pick off the table and took a couple shakey steps towards his and Duff’s bedroom when his legs gave out under him and he fell to the floor. He thought he heard a door open, and he thought he heard someone yelling his name, but he was sure it was just Nikki. Steven let his eyes slip closed.

****

Duff had showed up for practice about twenty minutes after Steven had left in tears. He had bought his boyfriend a present to celebrate one month of sobriety, and to cheer him up some. But upon walking into the rehearsal room, Duff’s smile fell when he saw a dark haired man talking with Axl, Slash, and Izzy, and no Steven in sight.

“Who’s this?” Duff asked. Axl glanced up from where he was. Slash watched from the sidelines, but Izzy spoke up.

“This is our new drummer,” Izzy explained. Duff looked over at the guitarist.

“New drummer? But we have a drummer,” Duff didn’t like where this was going.

“Not anymore,” Izzy told him. “Because Mr. W. Axl Rose over there fired the ray of sunshine.”

“Fuck,” Axl whispered under his breath. Matt, the new drummer, took a step back as all 6’3” of Duff towered over the frontman. “H-hey Duff. What’s up?”

“You fired Steven?!” Duff yelled. “Without telling me?”

“You would’ve said no!” Axl shot back. “And he doesn’t contribute! His heroin addiction is getting in the way! I’m tired of him!”

“He hasn’t touched heroin in a month!” Duff screamed. “He didn’t want to say anything yet, because the first few months are always the hardest!”

“He what?” Axl asked.

“That’s why I haven’t seen him around the normal hangouts?” Slash asked Duff. “I thought he was just whipped.”

“He wanted to get better, because he realized how much this,” Duff waved at the instruments and the room. “Meant to all of us! Meant to him!” Duff marched over to an amp case and rummaged through it, finding some things Steven had left behind when Axl kicked him to the curb. Reaching into the bottom, Duff found a notebook that Steven had been so excited to show him.

“What’s that?” Axl asked.

“Steven’s song book,” Duff snapped. “He tried to show you, and you were a dick to him about it! Yeah, his songs aren’t fucking “Welcome to the Jungle” but he could’ve done the filler songs!”

“He...he was writing…” Axl whispered. Slash took the book and flipped through the pages, coming to a song dedicated “To Axl”.

“‘The One You Hated”,” Slash announced. “Dedicated to you Axl.”

“God, were you really that mean to the kid?” Izzy asked.

“I gotta go,” Duff went running towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Axl called after him.

“Who knows what kinda damage you’ve caused, you prick!” Duff ran out to his car, leaving Axl, Slash, Izzy, and the new guy behind.

****

“Come on, fucking move it!” Duff screamed at the traffic. His mind kept wandering back to Steven. His loving and sweet boyfriend who had been trying so hard to better himself. Yeah, Duff wasn’t perfect. He drank too much, but he could see that Steven actually wanted to be sober.

But traffic was moving so slow and he just wanted to get home.

It felt like too many long minutes before he pulled up in front of the apartment building where him and Steven lived. He bypassed the elevator and took the stairs to their floor, where he quickly threw open the door.

“Steven?” Duff called into the apartment, hoping he was here. He saw a headful of black hair sticking up over the top of the couch. Duff made his way over to see Nikki staring blankly at the TV. “Nikki?”

“Oh, heey Duffman,” Nikki smiled at him. “Come to join the party?” Duff saw the needle and rig laying on the table.

“Where’s Steven?” Duff asked.

“I dunno,” Nikki looked around. “Think he went that way.” Nikki motioned vaguely over towards the bedroom, but also to the front door. That wasn’t helping Duff in his search very much.

“Fuck,” Duff was about to turn around and walk out of the house when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to find his boyfriend laying on his side, his necklace he always wore laying in his hand. “Steven!” Duff screamed

The bassist ran over to the drummer and turned him onto his back. Steven’s head just swayed with the movement and Duff’s heart stopped. What if he touched his neck and didn’t find a pulse? What if he held his hand over his nose and didn’t feel a breath? What if Steven was gone?

But Duff pushed those thoughts down and shakily touched his fingers to Steven’s neck, finding a very slow and sluggish pulse. But it was there and Duff could take a small breath.

“Sixx!” Duff called over to Nikki. “Fuck! Nikki!”

“What?”

“We need to call an ambulance!” Duff called to the other bassist. Nikki looked over and the look on Duff’s face was enough to help sober him up a little bit.

“What’s wrong?” Nikki asked, pushing himself to his feet. Unlike Steven, Nikki had yet to stop, so a larger dose was nothing to him.

“I think Steven OD’d. Nikki please call for help. Or give me the fucking phone. I’m not leaving him,”

Nikki nodded and brought the phone over to Duff. He knew that in his state, he wouldn’t be able to relay things right. Duff sighed and took the phone, calling for help while holding onto Steven the whole time.

****

Duff sat in the waiting room with his head in his hands. He had filled out the paperwork the best he could, telling the orderlies that Steven had been clean for a month and had been doing so good. Now, he was alone. That was, until Nikki slowly walked up to him with a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Here,” Nikki held out a cup of the mediocre hospital coffee. Duff took it, but didn’t drink it. “I called Slash. I figured you’d want your band here…”

“Axl doesn’t fucking care,” Duff whispered. “If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t even be here right now.”

“What happened?” Nikki sat down by the blonde.

“You know how Axl is,” Duff sighed. “Steven tell you that Axl kicked him out?”

“I think so, yeah,” Nikki nodded.

“Steven hadn’t touched heroin in a month. I was so proud of him, he was so proud of himself,” Duff stared down at the coffee. “We should’ve told the others. But he didn’t want them to tease him. And he didn’t want to let them down if he relapsed…”

“I...I’m sorry…” Nikki sighed. “Tommy’s been asking me to stop. Thought about it a couple times. But that’s as far as it got.” He paused. “I should’ve told him no.” Duff didn’t say anything. He wasn’t mad at Nikki, but he wasn’t happy with him either. Nikki would’ve been down right pissed if someone had done that to Tommy. They sat in silence for a little bit before a familiar face walked up to them.

“Duff, how is he?” Izzy asked. Duff noticed Slash and Axl loitering behind him.

“I don’t know yet,” Duff shrugged. “He had a pulse when I found him, but he wasn’t awake.”

“Shit,” Slash shook his head. “He probably took a bigger dose than his body could handle.” Duff just nodded. Nikki looked up at the other three and saw Axl staring at the ground. He could see the guilt radiating off of him.

“I’m gonna head out…” Nikki said, standing. Izzy, Slash, and Duff all looked at him, but not Axl. “Uh, call me when you find something out?”

“Yeah,” Duff nodded. Nikki excused himself from the group. The three took seats in the waiting room.

“I, uh, I looked at the notebook…” Axl said after several moments of silence. “His songs aren’t bad, but…”

“You don’t want him in the band still.” Duff stated, matter of factly.

“Duff…”

“Why don’t you like him?” Duff turned to look at the frontman. “What did he ever do to you?”

“He came into the band and...everyone just fucking loved him...including you…” Axl sighed.

“You kicked him out because you’re fucking jealous?” Duff asked. Axl just shrugged. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t expect him to OD!” Axl yelled. Duff jumped up.

“If he dies, I hope he haunts your ass,” Duff sneered. “Because of your pettiness, he gave up his sobriety, and he might pay a big price for it.” Axl stood up, ready to smart off to the bassist, when someone’s voice could be heard.

“I’m looking for the family of Steven Adler…”

Duff turned to look at the doctor, standing there in her coat and holding her clipboard.

“That’s me,” Duff walked away from Axl. “Duff McKagan.” The doctor looked at her clipboard and nodded. “Is he…”

“Have a seat and we’ll discuss everything,” She told him. Duff didn’t like the sound of that one bit, but took a seat next to slash, who threw an arm around his shoulder, trying to provide some comfort. “As you already know, Mr. Adler was brought in for an overdose to an opioid.”

“Yeah…”

“As we were pumping his stomach, his heart did stop and we had to use a defibrillator to bring him back.”

“And he…”

“He is alive,” She told him. “We are monitoring him closely, but he is alive and breathing on his own, which is the good thing.” Duff let his head drop into his hands. He had honestly believed that she was coming to tell him that Steven was gone.

“When can we see him?” Izzy spoke up. Duff looked up at the doctor.

“Well, he’s currently in the ICU, so only two people can see him at a time. But I can have a nurse show you there and you can go see him.” The doctor explained. Duff ran a hand down his face.

“Thank you,” He whispered. She offered him a smile before leaving. Once Steven was out of the woods, she would have to speak with them about treatment plans. But right now, he just needed to get to a point where he could open his eyes.

A nurse came to get them to take them to the ICU waiting room, and from there, two could go see the drummer. But as Axl stood, Izzy and Slash stopped him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Rose,” Izzy told him.

“What? Why?”

“Well, for starters, we wouldn’t even be here right now if it wasn’t for you,” Slash told him.

“And you just told Duff you fired the kid out of spite,” Izzy added. “I think you should just go home.” Slash nodded in agreement.

“Fine,” Axl rolled his eyes. “Later.” He marched out of the hospital. Duff looked at the two guitarists.

“You didn’t have to do that,” He told them as they made their way to the ICU.

“Eh, we didn’t know he was kicking him out either,” Izzy shrugged. Duff nodded as they were led to the new waiting room.

“Okay, who’s going in?” The nurse asked with a smile.

“You go on Duff,” Slash told the bassist. “You need to see him more than we do.”

“Are you sure?” Duff asked. The two nodded. Duff took a deep breath then and followed the nurse to Steven’s room. He told himself he was prepared for anything. But he realized that wasn’t the truth when he saw his usually lively boyfriend laying completely still in the hospital bed. He had wires attached to him, an oxygen cannula under his nose, and he was so damn pale. This was not the usual ray of sunshine that Duff was used to.

“He’ll probably sleep for awhile,” The nurse told Duff. “A drug overdose is traumatic enough. But he had a lot of alcohol in his bloodstream too.”

“He did?” Duff glanced over at her. He didn’t even notice the empty bottles when he was panicking about keeping Steven alive.

“Yeah,” She patted Duff’s arm. “I’m just a call button away.”

“Thank you,” Duff made his way over to Steven’s bed and took a seat. He carefully reached out and grabbed his hand that wasn’t attached to anything. He brought it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the knuckles. “I’m right here babe.”

****

At some point, Duff had fallen asleep. He woke himself up with each check a nurse did on the drummer, but he would fall back asleep after that. It wasn’t until the sun started rising that he officially woke up. With a groan, Duff stood to stretch his back.

“Nice view,” He could’ve sworn he heard Steven say. Turning back around, Duff was greeted with a sleepy eyed Steven Adler. He had a small smile on his face, but he looked exhausted.

“You get your energy from the sun. I just knew it,” Duff laughed a little as he leaned over and kissed Steven’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Steven admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“I wish you would’ve waited to talk to me before calling Sixx,” Duff played with his fluffy hair.

“I...I was scared,” Steven told him. He didn’t have to say anymore. Duff figured it out. He was scared that Duff had agreed with Axl, and he was scared that Duff didn’t want to see him anymore.

“Babe, you never have to be scared as long as I’m around,” Duff cupped his cheek. “I love you. And Axl is fucking worthless.”

“Maybe he’s right though,” Steven shrugged. “I’m never gonna be as good of a songwriter as you guys. I can’t sing. All I do is hit the drums. And Axl has told me several times that I’m not as good as half the drummers on the scene…”

“He wouldn’t know anything good if it bit him in the ass,” Duff told him. “But you’ll be great without him. You’ll get a kickass band, and I’ll be your biggest supporter.”

“Maybe I could steal his bassist sometime,” Steven shrugged. “Because you’re not quitting.”

“You think I’m staying there without you?”

“Yes,” Steven nodded. “Because you’re fucking awesome, and your talents would be wasted on anything less. I mean, look how far we got with Road Crew.”

“Babe…”

“Please?” Steven looked at Duff with those eyes he couldn’t say no to.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stay. But the minute he says something to me, I’m choking him with one of those fucking bandanas,” Duff smirked a little.

“Fair enough,” Steven laughed a little but his eyes started to fall closed.

“Get some rest babe,” Duff placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

The End

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316 @horrorpxnk @tommyleeownsme @marvelismylifffe @mrslogansixxpixx

@sams-serialkiller-fetish @fan-with-issues @spacey-aceys-bitch @smokeandmirrorz @saint-of-los-angeles

#guns n roses #duff mckagan #steven adler #duff mckagan x steven adler #nikki sixx #fanfiction #axl rose #slash #izzy stradlin

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dustedmagazine · 5 years ago

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Dust Volume 6, Number 8

Angel Olsen

Now half a year in the pandemic, we’re starting to see the emergence of quarantine records, whether in the trove of reissues hastily assembled to stand in for new product or home recorded projects made with extremely close friends and family or albums that are conceived and written around the concept of isolation. Music isn’t real life, exactly, but it lives nearby. And in any case, it’s still music and can be good or bad whether it’s been unearthed from a forgotten box of tapes, recorded at home without collaboration or side people or technologically gerry-rigged so that distanced partners can work together. So, as long as you all are making music, we will continue to listen and find records that move us, as the world burns all around. This edition’s contributors included Patrick Masterson, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Jonathan Shaw, Justin Cober-Lake and Ray Garraty. Enjoy.

+ — #playboy (Deluxe Edition) (self-released)

#playboy (deluxe edition) by +

One of the most genuinely confounding records I’ve heard this year comes courtesy SEO-unfriendly artist + aka Plus Sign fka Emanuel James Vinson, a Chicago rapper, city planner and all-around community activist who spends his time helping with the city’s Let’s Build Garden City initiative when he’s not making music (which is frequent, by the way — take a look at the breadth of that Bandcamp discography). The concept with #playboy, originally released in April but deluxed in late May, is simple: Two kids find a music machine called #playboy in their basement and start tinkering with it. Its childlike whimsy is conveyed in the song titles (“Getting the Hang of It,” “Wake Up Jam (Waking Up)”) every bit as much as it is in the music, with occasionally grating indulgences, the odd earworm and a brief appearance by borderless internet hip-hop hero Lil B that makes perfect sense in context; the kindred spirit of that community-building cult auteur is strong here. You may wind up loving this record or you may wind up hating it, but I can promise you this: You’ll be thinking about it and the artist behind it long after it’s over.

Patrick Masterson

Actress — Mad Voyage Mixtape (self-released)

I once suggested Darren Cunningham mucks about with his music because he can’t help himself. That was about six years ago on the occasion of his purported “final” album Untitled; with the benefit of hindsight, we can see he was (like so many others, to greater or lesser consequence) just pulling our leg with that PR. Hell, he’s released two albums worth of music in July alone: The first was the mid-month surprise LP 88, which follows in the vein of his acclaimed high period as an often brilliant, occasionally frustrating patchwork of submersible beats best played at high volume with a low end. The second came at the end of the month in an m4a file shared the old fashioned way on a forum via Mediafire link, nearly an hour and a half long, and per the man himself, “All SP-303, sketchbook beats, recorded this past week [the first week of July] straight to recorder or cassette.” It feels very much like a homespun Actress mixtape and is probably best thought of as livelier accompaniment to 88 but, even still, there’s no noticeable drop in quality — once Actress, always Actress. If headier lo-fi beat tapes are your beat, this will slot comfortably in line.

Patrick Masterson

bdrmm - Bedroom (Sonic Cathedral)

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Hull five-piece bdrmm play a satisfyingly crepuscular version of shoegaze on their debut album Bedroom. Ryan Smith, his brother Jordan on bass, guitarist Joe Vickers, Danny Hull on synths and drummer Luke Irvin combine the widescreen sound of Ride with a cloak of gothic post-punk. Like the late, lamented Girls Names, bdrmm find a sweet spot where atmosphere and dynamics either build to euphoric crescendos or bask in bleak funereal splendor. Bedroom seems deliberately sequenced from celebration to lament. “A Reason To Celebrate” evokes Ride at their most anthemic, the tripping staccato driven “Happy” summons the spirit of The Cure of Seventeen Seconds before the pace drops for the second half, the songs become quieter and darker as the band finds a more personal voice. “(The Silence)” is an ambient whispered wraith of a thing, “Forget The Credits” impressively mopey slowcore. bdrmm don’t always transcend their influences, but this debut is an atmospheric treat if your taste runs to the darker end of the musical buffet.

Andrew Forell

Circulatory System — Circulatory System (Elephant 6 Recording Co.)

Circulatory System by Circulatory System

Nearly 20 years after its initial release, the excellent eponymous debut album by Will Cullen Hart’s psychedelic chamber-pop band Circulatory System gets a long overdue vinyl reissue. While his previous project, the undeniably great Olivia Tremor Control, tended to lean more towards classic psych-pop’s traditional tropes — hard-panned drums, loads of disorientating tape effects, wonky harmonized vocals — Circulatory System taps into something utterly uncanny. Both Signal Morning (2009) and Mosaics Within Mosaics (2014) have their moments, but this is front-to-back brilliant, conjuring a sublime atmosphere of reflective estrangement. The music is a thick, grainy soup of shimmering instrumentation, from the eerie (“Joy,” “Now,” “Should a Cloud Replace a Compass?”) to the joyful (“Yesterday’s World,” “The Lovely Universe,” “Waves of Bark and Light”), but part of the album’s magic is the way everything flows into a seamless whole. As is vinyl’s tendency, the rhythm section really comes alive here, the fuzz bass and tom-heavy drum parts booming out, with plenty of vivid details in the mix swimming into view. A worthy reissue of an essential album.

Tim Clarke

Cloud Factory — #1 (Howlin’ Banana)

Cloud Factory #1 by Cloud Factory

Cloud Factory, from Toulouse, France, overlays the serrated edges of garage pop with a serene dream-pop drift. It’s an appealing mix of hard and soft, like being pummeled to death by pillows or threatened gunpoint by a teddy bear. “Amnesia,” for instance, erupts in a vicious, sawed off, trouble-making bass line, then soars from there in untroubled female vocals. Later, “No Data,” punches hard with raw percussion, then lays on a liquid, lucid guitar line that encourages middle-distance staring. None of these songs really up the ante with memorable melodies, sharp words or that intangible R’NR energy that distinguishes great punk rock from the so so. Not loud, not soft, not great, not bad. Cloud Factory resides in the indeterminant middle.

Jennifer Kelly

Entry — Detriment (Southern Lord)

Detriment by Entry

Nuthin fancy here, folks. Just eight songs — plus a flexing, fuzzing intro — of American hardcore punk. Entry has been grinding away for a few years now, and Detriment doesn’t advance much past the musical terrain the band marked off on the No Relief 7-inch (2016). That’s OK. The essential formula is time tested: d-beat rhythms, overdriven amps and Sara G.’s ferocious vocals delivering the necessary affect. That would be: pissed off, just this side of hopeless. Detriment sounds like what might happen if Poison Idea (c. 1988) stumbled into a seminar on Riot Grrrl; after everyone got tired of beating the living shit out of one another, they’d make some songs. “Selective Empathy” is pretty representative. Big riffs, a breakdown, and more than enough throaty yelling to let you know that you’re in some trouble. You might recognize the sound of Clayton Stevens’ guitar from his work with Touché Amoré — but maybe it’s better if you don’t. This isn’t music for mopery. Watch out for the spit, snot and blood, and flip the record.

Jonathan Shaw

Equiknoxx — VF Live: Equiknoxx (The Vinyl Factory)

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There’s nothing like a little roots music to get you through the sweltering summer heat, and this early July mix by Gavin “Gavsborg” Blair (half of forward-thinking Kingston dancehall unit Equiknoxx) was a personal favorite of the past month for hitting that spot. The group tends to throw curveballs at the genres it tinkers with, and Blair’s mix highlights why they’re so good at it: The crates run deep. Spanning everything from legendary producer and DJ Prince Jazzbo to in-house music fresh out the box (e.g., “Did Not Make This For Jah_9” was released in late May), Blair sets the mood and educates you along the way. Like everything else these cats do (and that includes the NTS show — support your independent radio station!), it’s hard not to give the highest recommendation.

Patrick Masterson

Ezra Feinberg — Recumbent Speech (Related States)

Recumbent Speech by Ezra Feinberg

Knowing that Ezra Feinberg is a practicing psychoanalyst, it’s tempting to read meaning into the name of his second solo album. But be careful to think twice about the meaning you perceive and ask yourself, is it the product of Feinberg on the couch or your own projection? His choice to name one of the record’s six instrumentals (there are voices, but no words) “Letter To My Mind” certainly suggests that there’s an internal dialogue at work, but the music feels most like a layered deployment of good ideas than an exchange of intrapsychic forces. The synthesizers shimmer and cycle like something from a mid-1970s Cluster record, resting upon a pillow of vibraphone and electric piano tones, which in turn billow under the influence of undulating layers of drums. Feinberg’s guitar leads are bright and pithy, like something Pat Metheny might come up with if he knew he was going to have to pay a steep price for every note he played. Ah, but there I go, projecting an implication of adversary process where there may be none. Might it be that Feinberg, having spent a full work week immersed in the psychic conflicts of others, wants to lay back on the couch and exhale? If so, this album is an apt companion.

Bill Meyer

Honey Radar — Sing the Snow Away: The Chunklet Years (Chunklet)

Sing the Snow Away: The Chunklet Years by Honey Radar

Jason Henn of Honey Radar has a solid claim at being his generation’s Bob Pollard, a prolific, absurdist songwriter, who tosses off hooky melodies as if channeling them from the spirit world. His least polished material glints with melody hidden beneath banks of fuzz, whispery and fragile on records, but surprisingly muscular in his rocking live shows. This 28-song compilation assembles the singles, splits, EPs and bonus tracks Henn recorded for Chunklet between 2015 and the present; it would be a daunting amount of material except that it goes down like cotton candy, sweet, airy, colorful and gone before you know it. Like the Kinks, Henn has a way of making strident rock and roll hooks sound wistful and dreamy. In “Lilac Pharmacy,” guitar lines rip and buck and roar, but from a distance, hardly disrupting Henn’s placid murmur. “Medium Mary Todd” ratchets up the tension a bit, with a tangled snarl of lick and swagger, but the vocals edge towards quiet whimsy a la Sic Alps; a second version runs a bit hotter, rougher and more electric, while a third, recorded at WFMU, gives an inkling of the Honey Radar concert experience. A couple of fine covers — of the Fall’s early rant “Middle Class Revolt” and of the Monkees rarity “Wind-Up Man”— suggest the fine, loamy soil that Henn’s art grows out of, while alternate versions of half a dozen tracks hint at the various forms his ideas can take. It’s a wonderful overview of Honey Radar so far, though let’s hope it’s not a career retrospective. Henn has a bunch of records left to make yet if he wants to edge out Pollard.

Jennifer Kelly

Iron Wigs — Your Birthday’s Cancelled (Mello Music Group)

Your Birthday's Cancelled by IRON WIGS

As an adjective, “goofy” had gotten a bad rep in hip hop. Anything that is unusual, inventive and not in line with “keeping it real” is immediately stigmatized as goofy, weird, nerdy and bad. Iron Wigs is goofy but hold the pejorative connotations. Chicago representatives Vic Spencer and Verbal Kent team up here with Sonnyjim from the UK to do some wild rhyming. They collaborated before, but Your Birthday’s Cancelled is a complete, fully fleshed project, masterfully executed from start to finish. Instead of the usual gun busting you get a fist in the ribs. Instead of drug slinging, a blunt to activate your rhymes. Each member of the group has a distinctive delivery which makes you to listen carefully for every verse, no skipping. It’s a relief to listen to rap artists who don’t pretend they’re out in the streets while they’re at home enjoying a favorite TV series. The standout track here is “Bally Animals & Rugbys” with Roc Marciano dropping by for a verse.

Ray Garraty

Levinson / Mahlmeister — Shores (Trouble In Mind)

Shores by levinson / mahlmeister

Jamie Levinson and Donny Mahlmeister’s Bandcamp page indicates that they’re based in Oak Park, a suburb of Chicago. This goes further towards explaining their association with Trouble in Mind Records, which is located in the same county, than their music, which brings to mind something much further north. The duo’s music is mostly electronic, with modular synthesizers setting the pulse and sweeping the pitch spectrum while lap steel guitar adds flourishes and a shruti box thickens the textures. The album is split into two, with each track — one is named “Ascend,” the other “Release” — taking up one side of a 50-minute cassette. The first side trundles steadily onwards, and the second seems to bask in a glow to that never totally fades. Since there’s no “Descend,” it’s easy to imagine this music sound tracking a drive into the Canadian north, the journey unspooling under a sky that never darkens, its progress towards Hudson Bay unhindered by other traffic or turns in the road. Perhaps that’s just one listener’s fantasy of easy social distancing and escape from the present’s grim digital glare into a retro-futurist, analog dream. But in dreams we’re free to fly without being seated next to some knucklehead with his mask over his eyes instead of his mouth, so dream on, dreamers. This tape is volume one of the Explorers Series, Trouble in Mind’s projected program of limited edition cassette releases.

Bill Meyer

Klara Lewis — Ingrid (Editions Mego)

Klara Lewis’s latest recording shows a narrowing of focus. Previously she seemed to be trying ideas and methods on for size, investigating ambient electronics or hinting at pop melody without completely committing. Given the approach to music modeled by her father, Graham Lewis of Wire and Dome, she probably does not feel the need to do just one thing, and that’s a healthy angle if one wants to stay interested and flexible. But there’s also something to be said for really digging into an idea, and that’s what she has done here. Ingrid is a one-track, one-sided 12.” Burrowing further into one-ness, it is made from one looped cello phrase, which gets filtered and distorted on each pass. The effect suggests decay, but not so much the gradual transformation of a William Basinski piece as the pitiless abrasion of a woodworker going over a plank with sander. The combination of repetition and coarsening hits a spot closer to one that Tony Conrad might reach, and that’s an itch worth scratching.

Bill Meyer

Luis Lopes Humanization 4tet — Believe, Believe (Clean Feed)

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The cruel economics of contemporary creative music-making favor an ensemble like Humanization 4tet. At a minimum, the filial Texan rhythm section of Stefan and Aaron Gonzalez (drums and bass respectively) and Lisbon-based duo of Rodrigo Amado (tenor saxophone) and Luís Lopes can each count on having the other half of a band on the other side of the Atlantic. But any project that’s on its fourth record in a dozen years has more going for it than the chance to save on plane tickets. For the Portuguese musicians, it’s an opportunity to feel an unabashedly high-energy force at their backs, as well as a chance to drink from a deep well of harmolodic blues. And for the Gonzalez brothers, it’s the reward of being the absolute right guys for the job; it has to be a gas to know that the heft they put into their swing is so deeply appreciated. While Lopes’ name remains up front, everyone contributes compositions, and everyone gives their all on every tune.

Bill Meyer

Joanna Mattrey — Veiled (Relative Pitch)

Veiled by Joanna Mattrey

This solo CD, which closely follows a collaborative cassette on Astral Spirits, is only the second recording with Joanna Mattrey’s name on the spine. But Mattrey is no newcomer. The New England Conservatory-trained violist has been playing straight and pop gigs for a while. If you caught Chance the Rapper on Saturday Night Live, Cuddle Magic with strings or a host of classical gigs around New York City, you’ve seen her. But if black dress and heels gigs pay her bills, improvised music nourishes her heart. And if sounds raw enough to scrape the roof of the world nourish yours, this album is new food. The premise of Veiled is finding veins of concealed beauty concealed, and that search impels Mattrey to tune her viola to sound like a horse-haired Tuvan fiddle, clamp objects to the strings and blast her signal through some satisfyingly filthy amplification. And whether it’s a slender tune or a complex texture, the reward is always there.

Bill Meyer

Angel Olsen — “Whole New Mess” single (Jagjaguwar)

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Everyone processes a breakup differently (though, to be fair, that’s probably less true now than ever). For Angel Olsen in 2018, it meant retreating to The Unknown, a century-old church in Anacortes, Washington, that Mount Eerie’s Phil Elverum and producer Nicholas Wilbur made into a recording studio. What ultimately came from those sessions was All Mirrors, but Whole New Mess is a chance to revisit that album (fully nine of these 11 songs are ones you’ve heard before; only the title-track and “Waving, Smiling” are new) in a more intimate framework — just Angel, a guitar, a mic and her reverberant heartache. The most cynical view to be taken here is that it’s a stopgap capitalizing on people’s vulnerability amid a pandemic quarantine, but it could also be a corrective for the bloat of All Mirrors, a record I listened to once and haven’t thought about since. Late Björkian excess doesn’t suit her nearly as well as the light touch delivered herein, and your interest will similarly hinge on how much Whole New Mess sounds like the old one.

Patrick Masterson

Ono — Red Summer (American Dreams)

Red Summer by ONO

Ono, the long-running noise-punk-poetry-protest project headed by P Michael Grego and travis, tackles the Red Summer of 1919, evoking the brutal race riots that erupted as soldiers returned from World War I. During that summer, conflicts raged from Chicago to the deep south, as white supremacists rioted against newly empowered returning Black veterans and an increased number of Black factory workers employed in America’s northern factories. Ono captures the violence—and its links to contemporary race-based conflicts—in an abstract and visionary style, with travis declaiming against an agitated froth of avant garde sound. “A Dream of Sodomy” lurches and rolls in funk-punk bravado, as travis declaims all the nightmarish scenarios that haunt his nocturnal hours, while “Coon” natters rhythmically across a fever-lit foundation of hand-drums, mosquito buzz and flute. “26 June 1919” wanders through a blasted, rioting landscape, sounds buzzing and pinging and roaring around travis’ fractured poetry. “White men, red men, Manchester town, send ‘em home, Oklahoma, send ‘em home, in a Black man house, send ‘em home, send ‘em home,” he chants, ominously, vertiginously. The center isn’t holding, for sure. The disc closes with the uneasy truce of “Sycamore Trees,” where steam blasts of synthesizer sound rush up and around travis’ vibrating, basso verses about meeting under the sycamore trees, a metaphor like the blues and gospel and nearly all Black music is full of metaphor about reuniting in a better place. Powerful.

Jennifer Kelly

Julian Taylor — The Ridge (Howling Turtle, Inc.)

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Singer-songwriter Julian Taylor does the little things well. That's not to say that he doesn't do the obvious things well, too, on his latest release The Ridge. His easy voice fits his songs, letting autobiography come with comfortable phrasing. As a writer, he tends toward the straightforward, avoiding extended metaphors or oblique references. The title track considers a particular form of life, and Taylor sticks to the tangible, singing about the stable, “Shovel manure, clean their beds, and prepare the feed for the day.” Taylor's songs make sense of the immediate world and relationships around him, but they avoid woolgathering. The album feels a bit removed from the current climate, but that's no complaint when Taylor's developed a welcoming place to visit. It isn't always easy here, but it's always companionable.

But back to those little things. Each song has carefully detailed orchestration and production. The record goes down easy whether tending toward James Taylor, Cat Stevens or something closer to country, and much of that easiness comes from the precise placement of every note. Burke Carroll's pedal steel, for instance, never exists for its own sake, but to serve the lyric that Taylor sings. The album contains enough space to feel like a rural Canadian ridge, with details drawn into to support Taylor's direct stories. The Ridge could easily go unnoticed (unobtrusiveness not being a highly rewarded trait), but its subtlety and care make it worth taking your boots off and sitting down for a minute.

Justin Cober-Lake

Various Artists — For a Better Tomorrow (Garden Portal)

For A Better Tomorrow by Various Artists

Compilation albums loom large in the American Primitive Guitar realm. Takoma, Tompkins Square and Locust all had larger ambitions than merely offering a sampling of wares, and to them, Garden Portal says, “hold my beer. I’ve got some collecting and playing to do.” For A Better Tomorrow started out as a Bernie Sanders fundraising endeavor. But when Bernie bailed and COVID-19 came on the scene, Garden Portal pivoted to support Athens Mutual Aid Network, an umbrella organization that coordinates aid to the underserved in this trying time. But in addition to good works, there’s some good work going on here. Not all of it is guitar-centric, but even the tracks that aren’t are close enough to the strings and heart template of the aforementioned parties to merit consideration under the same rubric. Joseph Allred’s been ultra-productive recently, so it’s actually helpful to be reminded of the spirit that infuses his playing by listening to it one track at a time. Rob Noyes’ “Diminished” takes the listener on a deep dive into the construction of sentiment and sound. And Will Csorba’s Pelt-like blast of fiddle drone, “Requiem for Ociel Guadalupe Martinez,” will put your hair up high enough to make that self-inflicted quarantine do a bit easier to execute.

Bill Meyer

Various Artists — The Storehouse Presents (The Storehouse)

The Storehouse Presents by The Storehouse

The coronavirus pandemic put the brakes on many things. You doubtless have your own list of loss, but for the proprietors of The Storehouse, the catalog of things kissed goodbye directly corresponds to their endeavor’s inventory of reasons to be. Over the past few years, the Storehouse has invited audiences out to a West Michigan farmhouse to enjoy a potluck meal and a concert played by some musicians of note. If there had been no lockdown, listeners could have enjoyed the Sun Ra Arkestra last April. Instead, no one’s playing, and no one’s getting paid, so the Storehouse has compiled this set of live and exclusive studio tracks to sell on Bandcamp in order to benefit the musicians and the Music Maker Relief Foundation. The cause, is good, but so are the tunes. Want to hear Steve Gunn and William Tyler in sympathetic orbit? Or Joan Shelley pledging her love? Or the first hints of Mind Over Mirrors’ new direction? Step right this way, preferably on one of 2020’s first Fridays.

Bill Meyer

Z-Ro — Rohammad Ali (1 Deep Entertainment / Empire)

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On one of his previous tracks, Z-Ro admitted that he’s basically just writing the same song over and over again (that’s how meta he is now, writing songs on writing songs). While he exaggerated a bit, he was not that far from the truth. In the last half dozen years he’s been writing the same three or four songs in various combinations, reconfigurations and forms. Rohammad Ali follows the same template: haters hate him, but he’s OK and is counting his money. Multiply this by 17, and here is the album. Despite this self-cannibalizing (lots of poets did that), Z-Ro with every new album sounds fresh and far from tired. The self-repeats just fuel him. Rohammad Ali has only one rap guest, and it’s Shaquille O’Neal whose rap career didn’t jump off in the 1990s. A lack of guests only proves that Z-Ro can self-sustain without support from the outside. The only thing from the outside he needs is hate.

Ray Garraty

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mirkwoodshewolf · 6 years ago

Text

You can do better than that; Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

Alrighty my dears, this one was a bit of a challenge because apparently I don’t do well with ‘play hard to get’ so I apologize in advance if some of the dialogue or writing is too cringy but I tried my best cause I got too deep into this fic. So I hope to the anon who wanted this request ends up happy with the result and I thank you for being sooo patient with me :) Not really any big warnings just swearing, mentions of being played, but there’s mostly fluff.

_______________________________________________________

*March 1st, 1971*

It wasn’t easy but I managed it. Making the big jump from moving out of my home country of America to here in England was tough and of course the homesickness hit after the first couple of weeks but somehow I managed. I knew I needed to be here in Britain because it had so much more potential for me than America ever did.

That is of course when my noisy neighbor isn’t banging away at what sounds like a drumkit at the early stages of the night. I never really got to meet them because for the past several weeks, I’ve been trying to get interviews for some record companies so that one day I can become the first ever female record producer since I’ve had an ear for talent. But until then I’m stuck with two jobs in order to pay the bills, by day I work as a waitress at a nearby restaurant then twice a week by nightfall I work at a local bar—or I guess I should call it a pub since that’s what they call it here in England, as a bartender near the University.

I had just gotten in from a seriously long shift at the restaurant since one of my coworkers thought I would be the perfect candidate for covering for him while he takes his girlfriend out on holiday for their anniversary or some shit. So 12 long hours instead of my usual 9hr has made me not only exhausted but irritated and hangry.

After finding me some cookies to chow down on, I collapsed onto my bed, not even bothering changing out of my uniform and tried to sleep. Just when I thought I could finally fall into a deep sleep; my noisy neighbor once again began banging on those blasted drums.

“That’s it! I can’t take this anymore!” I got out of my bed and left my apartment and went over next door. I banged on the door to give this guy a piece of my mind. Because for the past few days they would be drumming till the but crack of dawn which made it impossible for me to try and go to sleep, especially when I would have a double shift to work at. I banged my fist to the door and cried out, “Hey! Open this damn door right now!! I’ve got just a couple things to say to you yah bastard!!”

The door opened and standing there was a cute—okay handsome man around my age maybe a year or two older with long blonde hair that went past his shoulders, and he had the bluest blue eyes.

*Roger’s POV*

I was practicing my solo for Brian’s new song ‘Keep yourself alive’. I’ve been trying to perfect this solo for weeks now and just the other day I managed to get the solo to the point where I was happy with it. After practicing it a few times around, I knew the crowd was going to like this.

But as I was practicing, I heard several hard knocks at my door and I heard a female voice say.

“Hey! Open this damn door right now!! I’ve got just a couple things to say to you yah bastard!!” I set my drumsticks down and hurried over to the door and opened it. But I was shocked to see that such a beautiful woman was standing before me. Her long (h/c) hair gently waved past her shoulders, she wore a waitress uniform that looked like she worked at “Bill’s coffee shop”.

It then also occurred to me that she also served as a bartender at the pub where my band plays. I’ve always admired her from a far but never once got the balls to go over and say hello, well now it looks like I get the chance to do it now.

*My POV*

As I kept staring at this guy, it suddenly hit me that he was the drummer for that band that performs at the pub I work at. I think their name was Smile?

“May I help you?” I snapped out of my daze and said.

“Yes I would like to file a complaint.”

“Ahh I see, and what may I ask is the complaint in regard to?” he said with a grin as he leaned against the door.

“The noise. You do realize it’s 12:30 in the morning and some of us are trying to sleep.”

“My apologizes love.”

“Listen buddy. It’s late, I’m tired and all I want to do is fall asleep. So can you please try to keep the noise down. I don’t want to come back here and argue at this point.”

“I’ll try. Though I hope you don’t mind me asking, you’re not from around here are you?” he asked me.

“No I moved here a few weeks ago from America.”

“Ahh an American girl.”

“Yeah now I got to get back to sleep so can we please put this discussion to an end?” I snapped not wanting to get into a discussion about this when I had to be up by 6am for my 7:30 shift tomorrow.

“Alright love, I promise I’ll keep it down.”

“Thank you.” I then headed back into my apartment and fell right back asleep.

*Roger’s POV*

As I watched the cute girl go back into her apartment, I knew that now I had to talk to her at my next gig. Maybe I would suede her to go on a date with me.

*My POV*

A few days later it was now my double shift at the bar. I was getting drinks for people when the band soon came up and following the curly-haired guitarist was my noisy neighbor.

“Hello everybody, we’ve got—we’ve got a few fresh faces here. This is John Deacon our new bass player. And our new lead singer Freddie Buls-Bulsara. Freddie Bulsara.” I then took notice of the long haired bass player and the new lead singer who didn’t look like he was from Britain, he looked Middle eastern, maybe from India or something. But there was just something about him that looked right about him.

“That’s right.” The lead singer nodded.

“And of course Roger, biggest member of them all.” The guitarist spoke into the mic and I could hear a girl cry out.

“Hi Roger!” Some of the students cheered and that’s when Freddie spoke into the mic.

“Hello, all you beautiful people.” Of course one asshole had to be a racist as he cried out.

“Where’s Tim!? Who’s the Pakkie?” I rolled my eyes. See it was people like this that made me leave America, especially when you live in the Southern states, it was even worse. Some of the crowd agreed with the guy and that’s when the band began playing their set.

Freddie seemed to struggle with the microphone stand and I cringed as it made that horrible feedback sound. I hide my face for him until he finally just broke the mic off of it’s stand and the song began. I’ll admit hearing them all play together and Freddie’s voice, it was—unlike anything I’ve ever heard from any band. I bopped my head along to the song and kept my eyes on a certain drummer, without having him notice of course as I kept serving the drinks.

The band kept playing for about another hour or so, and I’ll also say that Freddie the new lead singer has made everyone in the room feel important, it was like he was reaching out to everyone in the audience, no matter who they were and made them feel important, even I felt that pull and would sometimes drift away from the bar and just stand amongst the crowd (which didn’t make my boss happy).

After the show I was cleaning up the bar when I heard a familiar voice say.

“So what did you think?” I stopped mid-cleaning and turned to see my neighbor leaning against the counter and I said.

“The band or are you just asking about you?”

“A little bit of both.” He smiled as he leaned further in towards me. “I saw you watching me.”

“How do you know I wasn’t looking at your lead singer?”

“Please love, if you were you’re head would’ve been moving around too much, you stayed standard right on me.” I rolled my eyes and said.

“You have quite an imagination.”

“Only when it involves you.” He said. Okay I get what he’s doing. He’s trying to smooth talk me, charm me and woo me till he gets his way with me. I grinned and leaned towards him and said.

“You know what?”

“What?” he said as he leaned closer towards me. I decided to toy with him a bit placing my hand on his bicep which was pretty buffed probably from years of drumming but I tossed the thought out of my head as I continued.

“You should come back later when you’ve learned a better pickup line.” His grin vanished as he looked like a kicked puppy as I leaned away from her and continued my work.

“So southern girls have a more fight to them, I like that in a woman. I find respect in that.” He said as he came around toward me.

“I hope you’re not trying to insult me.”

“Not at all, just making conversation. How long have you been here in London?”

“A couple weeks now. I only just started working here last week.”

“Does my southern bell have a name?” I looked up at him and he just looked at me with a gentle tilt of his head, like a golden retriever puppy.

“Why so keen on knowing my name?”

“I just figured since we’re neighbors and all, and since I was so rude as to not notice it before and not give you a proper British welcome, I would like to know the name of the cute neighbor next door.” I tried to hide my blush as I said.

“(Y/n) (l/n).”

“That’s a beautiful name, I’m Roger. Roger Taylor.” He said as he extended his hand out for me to take. Even though I was playing hard to get, it’d be rude if I denied a handshake so I took his hand, but instead of a handshake, Roger kissed my knuckles and I swore I felt my heart skip a beat, but of course I wasn’t going to tell him that.

A couple years went by and in 1973, I finally heard back from EMI about a position for their company, however the downside was that I was nothing more than a secretary to the main producer Ray Foster. So that meant just organizing papers, getting the coffee, boring stuff, never really get to touch anything music related, unless its passing him the records.

I was currently going through some papers at the front desk outside Ray’s office when I got buzzed in and the boss’s voice soon spoke up.

“(L/n), John’s bringing in my new signing band coming in today, make sure they’re all present before bringing them up to my office.”

“Right away sir, I’ll send them up once they’ve arrived.” I got up from my desk and walked towards the elevator and pressed the down button.

“Hold the elevator!” I held it and in walked in my good friend Mikaela. Now as I’ve stated before, I despised racism so when most of the people at EMI mostly the men never gave Mikaela the light of day, I decided to reach out my hand in friendship.

Since we’re both women in the workforce we might as well stick together.

“Thank you (y/n).”

“Anytime Mimi, so what have you got to do.”

“Gotta get these checks mailed out, how about you?”

“Boss man wants me to bring up a new band that EMI has signed up with.”

“Any idea who they are?”

“No idea, but they must be good if Ray signs them up, or if they come straight from John Reid himself.”

“Really?” I nodded as I hummed. Soon the elevator dinged as we reached the ground floor and as we walked out she said, “So we still on for our Happy hour?”

“Absolutely. After the week I’ve been having, I deserve a few drinks.”

“Alright, see you Thursday night.”

“Will do, pick you up at 7?” She nodded and then we went our separate ways. As I walked along the lobby I saw John Reid sitting at the lobby with a group of familiar boys. “Oh god, tell me this isn’t happening.” I muttered to myself.

Because amongst those boys was none other than Roger. Ever since the pub performance all those years ago, every day whenever he could whether it was at the pub or even when we would pass each other in the lobby or the hallway, he’d try to flirt with me trying to make me swoon like every other girl he’s screwed around with.

Of course every chance I turned down all his pickups and advances and now it seems like I’ll never escape from him. But not wanting to risk getting fired for keeping Mr. Foster waiting, I sucked it up and approached Mr. Reid.

“Mr. Reid.” He turned to look at me and I said, “I’m (y/n) (l/n). Mr. Foster’s assistant I was sent down to collect you and the band.”

“Ahh yes Miss (y/n).” He stood up from the chair and the two of us shook hands with each other. “Pleasure to meet you, I’d like to introduce you to Queen, EMI’s new signup.” I waved to the boys and that’s when Freddie spoke up.

“Wait, weren’t you a bartender at the pub near the University?”

“Yeah I was.”

“Oh darling you have got some explaining to do because this boy would not shut up when you had left the pub! Could not get him to stop talking about you.” Freddie spoke as he pointed to Roger.

“It was sickening.” Piped in John Deacon.

“Bugger off the lot of you.” Roger muttered.

“Alright enough you four, now then let’s not keep Ray waiting any longer, we’re ready to meet him when you are Miss (l/n).”

“Right this way gentlemen.” As we headed toward the elevator, my attention turned to Roger.

So he’s been talking about me huh? Never did I think he’d still be on me even to his bandmates. He’s definitely persistent I’ll give him that, but at this point I’m just not looking for a relationship at the moment.

Once we reached Mr. Foster’s office, he allowed me to come in saying that it was important that I stay for one big announcement that involved me. At first I thought it would have to do something of a promotion, like finally being able to work the controls of the booth but instead I got the news that I would be Queen’s assistant, which meant I had to check in on them day to day along with some guy named Paul Prenter.

My heart dropped but I swear I thought I saw Roger’s face perk up as he turned toward me.

“Sir are—are you sure I’m capable of doing something like this? I mean surely Queen doesn’t need two assistance……”

“I think it would be a wonderful idea.” Exclaimed Freddie.

“I surely wouldn’t mind it.” Brian soon spoke up.

“It’d be nice to have better company than these lot all the time.” John Deacon spoke up.

“In fact—she can be my personal assistant.” Roger piped in. Oh hell no.

“Seems the band agrees. You start tomorrow Miss (l/n).” John Reid said. Internally I was deflated more than anything of what I was hearing but I knew better than to cause a scene as I said.

“Can’t wait.” But it was spoken with a hint of sarcasm.

A few months go by and if I’m being honest, it wasn’t half bad being with the boys. I got to know them as they truly were and they were a bunch of really cool guys. John or as I’ve been allowed to call him, Deacy with his knowledge of electrical engineering, Brian’s love for astrophysics as well as animal rights especially for badgers, hedgehogs and foxes, Freddie I envy him because he’s given me such beautiful sketches and I wish I could draw half as good as he can.

And of course there’s Roger. Who continues to try and flirt with me but thanks to Deacy and Brian I can get back at him due to his major of being a dentist. But I’ll admit one thing, Roger does have his moments when he’s not trying to be Casanova like this one time when I was helping the boys get ready to preform on Top the Pops for their newest hit song ‘Killer Queen.’

I was with Deacy adjusting his jacket. Once I saw it was good enough I said.

“Alright, you’re all set.”

“Thanks (y/n), we’d be lost without you.”

“Oh stop it. Save that for Veronica.” Besides Fred, Deacy’s opened up more to me when it comes to relationship and lately he’s been seeing this girl named Veronica and I’ve wanted to hear every single detail of how they met and how each date has gone. Sometimes I even give him advice on how to act around her since poor baby he’s so terrible shy when it comes to dating, especially since he’s told me he really, really likes her.

“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t told you about her.”

“Oh come on then who would you go to for advice?”

“Touché, you make a good point.”

“Listen chaps it is going to be playback. Lip-sync is all that is required.” One of the BBC producers spoke up.

“We do know how to play our instruments.” Roger spoke up.

“You want me to lip-sync?” Freddie spoke up as he got in the producer’s face which made him back up just a bit but still hold his ground.

“I just don’t understand why we simply can’t perform live?” asked Brian.

“The audience will never know the difference.”

“We’ll know the bloody difference.”

“This is the BBC that’s how things are done around here. Don’t be a nuisance.” He then walked away.

“Well then you lads will have to make sure no one can tell if you’re faking it.”

“The way things are done here. We’re bolly old chap.” Roger mocked the producer as Brian then mocked out in a posh, snotty tone.

“This is the BBC.”

“I’m relieved.” Deacy spoke up.

“Yeah you would be.” Brian muttered.

“Like perfect performance.”

“Oi (y/n) if you’re done playing groupie get off the stage, they’re about to start filming!” Paul cried out. I turned towards him almost about to snap back a retort at him when Roger beat me to it.

“Prenter! You outta look into the mirror and say that to yourself, cause if anyone here is the groupie it’s you yah wanker!” At that comeback I actually laughed softly at the insult he gave to Paul. He turned his attention toward me and he bragged, “A smile and a laugh. Guess I’m getting close huh?”

“Please Taylor. One chivalrous deed doesn’t suede me to admit anything.”

“But I still managed to get you to smile, I count that as a win.” I rolled my eyes at him and said as I got off the stage.

“Just play your fake drums drummer boy.” And even though it was beyond my control, a light blush came across my face.

Even with it being a ‘fake’ performance, the boys gave it their all and the song became a huge hit, especially in Japan where the boys did their tour there. Then there was the tour of America which the album ‘Sheer Heart Attack’ hit the charts back home.

I told the guys about my hometown and they tried to convince me to let them see my home but I told them that we had too tight a schedule but next time when there was time, I would show them where I grew up.

Now came time for another album to be recorded and after getting the approval from Foster about the new idea that Freddie had for the ‘A Night at the Opera’, we were on our way to a nice secluded recording studio out in Wales by the summer of 1975.

A few days after getting settled in, I was walking along the outside of the fields, having flashbacks of my grandparent’s farm when I heard a piano playing inside the studio. I walked in and I saw Deacy playing an electric piano and I could hear him softly mutter to himself.

I leaned by the door and kept quiet so that I wouldn’t disturb him as he kept muttering the lyrics and writing them down. Even though Deacy’s always said he’s not a singer, I can’t help but admire what he was humming and muttering to himself. I guess he must’ve seen me because next thing he did, he jumped up startled.

“Sorry, but you don’t have to stop on my account.”

“Just how much did you hear?”

“Heard about enough. It’s beautiful Deacy.” I walked inside the studio and sat down beside him and said, “What’s it called?”

“‘You’re my best friend’. I wrote it for Veronica.”

“Awww.” I awed as I placed my hand over my heart.

“But I doubt the lads will want to play it. Not really rock and roll enough for them for what I imagine it to be.”

“Don’t say that. Maybe they will, hell you play this for Fred and he’ll be on your side and make it go on the album.”

“Thanks (y/n).”

“Plus I know that once Veronica hears this, she’ll fall even deeper in love with you.”

“Oh come off it….”

“I’m serious. Sure some people think it’s cliché and maybe corny but to some girls that just proves a guy really cares about a woman. Especially if that guys a talented songwriter like you.” I said as I sat down beside him and playfully shoved his shoulder with mine.

“I just—wanted to do something for her. I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend to her, especially being away from her this long. I just want her to know that I’m always thinking of her.”

“And she will.” I sighed deeply.

“Okay what’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“No one sighs like that unless there’s something bothering them, so c’mon out with it. You’re always getting me to spill my guts, now it’s your turn missy.” I playfully scowled at him but caved in because I can never say no to Deacy’s adorable face so I said.

“Okay, there’s—actually it’s been going through my head for the past few years now. I mean I don’t know whether it’s this place, being away from the city but I……” my heart raced and my palms felt sweaty as I finally muttered, “I—I think I love Roger.” Deacy remained silent before finally saying.

“About bloody time you said it.”

“What now?”

“(Y/n) no offense love but you’re not as discreet as you think you are. There’s been so much sexual tension between you two that it’s unbelievable about how thick it is.”

“Well I can’t just get up and tell him how I feel?”

“He’s been trying so hard to get with you since day one, even before we met you last year he’d always talk about the cute neighbor next door to him. Why can’t you just put the poor boy out of his misery.”

“There’s…..there’s more to it than that.” I said solemnly as I fiddled with my nails. Deacy’s eyes became concerned and he said.

“He didn’t do anything wrong to you, did he?”

“No it’s just—” I sighed heavily and said as I fully turned to face him, “Okay, you know how I told you guys the reason why I moved to America was because of the problems going on?” he nodded and I said, “Well—what I’m about to tell you, I’ve never told anyone else, so you have to promise me you won’t tell a soul. Not even Veronica.”

“You know you don’t have to tell me,”

“I know but—I’ve been holding it in for so long, and you’re the most trustworthy person I know. So promise me Deacy.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” I sighed deeply and said.

“Okay. Back in college I…..I once knew a guy that was exactly like Roger. He loved to flirt and give out pickup lines. He wasn’t bad looking either, dark brown hair and green eyes. Well, one day during a break in class he came up to me and started flirting with me. And not having a boyfriend before, I—I fell for the pickup lines and the flirtation and soon we started dating.”

“And then he cheated on you?” Deacy asked. I scoffed out a laugh and said.

“I wish, what happened was way worse.”

“Oh god he—he didn’t……”

“No, no not that worse. Don’t worry Deacy.” He sighed with relief for a brief second before listening once more, “Well we dated for about a year and a half and it was our anniversary so I decided to make him some cookies. I went up to the frat boy house he was in and just before I knocked on the door, I heard him and his friends talking.” I trailed off as tears filled my eyes.

I tried to keep them in as I looked up and laughed out icily as I continued,

“Apparently they were all having a contest to see who could get the biggest loser on campus…..and he won. My picture was plastered everywhere all over campus. He stopped talking to me and turned on me by calling me ‘desperate’ and ‘naïve’ for not seeing it earlier. He never loved me; I was nothing but a joke to him.”

“Oh (y/n).”

“The entire student body was against me. So much so that I had to drop out of college and I had to move here. Because even when I wasn’t in school, the teasing and harassment still happened whenever I was out in public. So I moved here where no one knew who I was.” I felt Deacy wrap his arms around me as he lent his shoulder for me to cry on. “Since then, I’ve vowed to close my heart to any flirting or any guy that would try to hurt me again…..and knowing Roger with his groupies I—”

“I get it. What that bastard did was unforgiveable and I can understand where you’re coming from. But you do know that not all guys are like him, right?”

“Of course I do. You, Bri and Fred are the proof of that. Sometimes Rog is also in there but, I’m just—afraid that, even if I do admit to him my real feelings for him……”

“I know. Sometimes Rog can be—a bit much, but when he sets his mind to something he won’t ever stop. No matter who or what gets in his way. Like remember the day you got the stomach flu?” I nodded recalling when he came over and helped take care of me, “Well you may not have known this, but we were in the middle of recording with Reid checking in on us. He actually fought to try and leave just so he could take care of you.”

“He seriously did that? He—he just told me you guys were rehearsing, not recording.”

“Well we were. He may not seem to want to appear soft on most days, but when it comes to you, he’ll drop anything just to make sure you’re okay.” I softly smiled and wiped away my tears and said as I separated from him.

“Thanks for listening Deacy, you’re the best.”

“I know.” He said with a shrug. Before grinning cheekily and chuckled softly which made me chuckle.

“Now you promise not to say anything to the guys?”

“Say what?” He had this twinkle in his eye that told me that he was only playing and I smiled and thanked him once more before leaving the studio to tell him that I needed to get dinner started if the guys were gonna eat on time before they dove too deep into the recording and they end up missing another meal.

About a week later I was sitting outside on the porch swing looking out into the field. It was a nice cool summer day after all the rain we’ve been having the last three days so it was a nice change of scenery weather wise.

“May I join you?” I turned around and there stood Roger.

“I don’t mind.” He then sat himself down just a couple inches away from me on the swing.

“I’ll admit I at first didn’t like this place but it’s growing on me.”

“That’s the thing with you city boys, you just don’t get it.”

“And what would you know country girl?”

“My grandparents owned a farm down in Arkansas. I used to always visit them every summer and Christmas before they both died.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss (y/n).”

“It’s fine. It was over 10 years ago when they died, but I appreciate it Rog.” The two of us sat there for awhile softly swinging on the swing until I finally broke the silence, “Hey Roger,” he turned to me and I said, “I—I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Well ever since I moved here, I feel like I haven’t been all that nice to you. And I…..I just want to make sure that you’re not mad or anything.”

“No, no in fact, I wanted to come out here and apologize for some of the things I’ve said to you. It wasn’t right of me to just flirt with you right out of the blue. Also I apologize for keeping you up all night with my drums.”

“That apology I can accept.” We both softly chuckled and I said.

“So do—do you think we can start over?”

“I’d like that. I’m Roger Taylor, nice to meet you new neighbor.” I smiled at him and said as we both shook hands with each other.

“(Y/n) (l/n).” With the hatchet buried and a new bond forged, I thought it was safe to say that Roger and I were now starting a new relationship.

We stayed outside for a good while when I finally turned around to look at him and just like the night we first met, my heart raced at seeing his blonde hair shine like the sun. It was like if Adonis and an angel had a baby, then Roger Taylor would be the end result of their bond. As he turned toward me, I quickly looked back out toward the field and I heard him softly laugh.

“I saw that.”

“You’re so full of it Taylor.” The two of us softly laughed and I broke the silence, “But you are right earlier. This view, this place it’s just so beautiful. I’d love to live in a place like this. No noise from the city, perfect view of the sunrise and sunset. And nothing but greenery for miles and miles ahead.”

“You know I’d be willing to buy you a house like that.” I turned to him and we looked at each other.

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“Why not?”

“Well the well earned money is yours, and I’d rather not take what you and the boys have worked so hard to get.”

“And I can do whatever I want with it, and if I want to buy a country house for a dear friend of mine, then I’ll do it.” I smiled softly and said.

“Thanks Rog, I appreciate it.” I then felt his fingertips softly touch mine and I looked straight into his blue eyes and he looked back at mine.

“(Y/n) I—I know I’ve been hounding you for years on the subject, but that’s because I—I’ve never really known how else to talk to a girl. I know you must think of me as some pigheaded flirt but—I just never knew how else to talk to you. So I…..I hope I don’t ruin this newly formed friendship by say that…..I like you. I really, really, really like you (y/n). These past few years with you have just been…..a blessing to me. And—god now I’ve gone and fucked this up hadn’t—”

I stopped his rambling by placing my lips against his. I felt his right hand go to my waist while his left cupped the side of my face as we deepened the kiss. I slowly lifted my hand and allowed my fingers to comb through his soft blonde hair, we gave each other a couple more pecks and I said.

“Congrats Taylor, you finally got me the right way.”

“You mean—”

“Truthfully I’ve had a crush on you since the night we met.”

“So I was right?” he teased.

“Now don’t go getting a big head drama queen. I just….Can you promise me something Roger?”

“Anything.”

“I—Can we please just take this one day at a time? Back home there was something that really hurt me, I’d rather not talk about it to you just yet, cause I feel like I won’t be able to be stable as I say it.”

“I won’t pressure you for anything (y/n). We can take this as slow as you want.”

“Also, I know how you are with your hookups with groupies. I—I just need to know that you won’t cheat on me or break my heart.”

“I promise (y/n). The only girl I want hanging around my arm is you. I wouldn’t be this persistent if I didn’t want anything more than a hookup with you.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me and I felt him kiss the side of my head. “I love you so much (y/n).”

“I love you too Roger.”

#bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody imagines #bohemian rhapsody x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor imagines #ben hardy!roger taylor imagine #ben hardy!roger taylor imagines #john deacon #freddie mercury #brian may #bohemian rhapsody imagine

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valentines-in-london · 5 years ago

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I Need Fire (Part 21)

Authors Note: Alright I’m back! I feel like it’s been an age since I talked to any of you! I hope you’re all doing well and that you like this chapter. We’ve got some BIG events coming up in the next few chapters so I’m excited to hear your feedback<3

Word Count: 3,486

Warnings: In this chapter none really, talk about drugs

Taglist: @freddiessmallnipples @triplehaitches @samanthadegaro @lauravic @oh-well1 @la-sorciere-fleur @anxious-diabetic @xdeath-soulx @fanofnightz @songbirdkisses If you’d like to be added please let me know!

Previous Chapter // Master List // Next Chapter

Chapter 21

Rayne took her keys to the office out of her purse and inserted them into the lock of Poison Ivy. It was just before 8AM so needless to say she was shocked to hear opera music coming from Stanley’s work office. Rayne dropped her bags on her desk and made her way back to where the music came from. She leaned against the door frame watching as he stood in front of a mannequin with a beautiful suede and leather suit. She gently knocked on the wooden frame, “Knock knock boss man.”

Turning toward her voice Stanley turned and gasped, “The bronzed goddess returns. Bella, you look stunning.”

“Thank you. That Italian blood in me makes it easy to tan.” Rayne chuckled holding her arms out at her side. “Why are you here so early?”

“The show is coming up, this is the last piece. I wanted to get this finished so we can have fittings with our girls. This is the most time I’ve ever had to make final adjustments leading up to a show. Granted the last shows I did I was hopped up on coke and ludes and all sorts of non-sense. But that was in my youth.”

“Is it wrong that I think it would be fun to meet that Stanley?” Rayne smiled crossing her arms over her chest, causing her engagement ring to catch in the morning sun.

“I mean you are used to rock stars and I could have put them to shame.” Stanley winked before his eyes to shot down to the sparkling ring on her slim fingers. “Oh my god, is this what I think it is Bella?”

Rayne nodded her head, “It is, Tommy proposed to me over the holiday break, and I said yes.”

“Congratulations my darling.” Stanley hugged Rayne rocking her back and forth. “You do realize what this means right?”

“What does it mean?”

“I have a wedding dress to design.” Stanley smiled wide.

“What? No! Stanley I can’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering. And you will be the most radiant bride there ever was. I’ll make sure of that.” Stanley said with such love. He felt like a father figure to Rayne and she couldn’t quite put into words how much she valued that aspect of her and Stanley’s relationship.

“I don’t know what to say Stanley.” Rayne shrugged her shoulders. “Thank you so much. Now let’s stop being sappy, we have a busy day ahead of us.”

“You know bella, you are going to have to get used to being the center of attention. Every bride deserves all eyes on her, and so does the lead model in my show.” Stanley called Rayne on her insecurities immediately and she knew he was right. But she’d cross that bridge when the time came, right now she had work to do.

After an eventful day at work filled with fittings and meetings Rayne headed home, but there was one place she had to stop off at before she got there. Rayne walked up the stone stairs and gently knocked on the door. A very disheveled looking Vince answered the door.

"Hey Vinny." Rayne smiled going in for a hug. Reluctantly Vince hugged her back.

"What are you doing here?" Vince asked softly.

"I haven't been over since everything happened, and the holidays were so crazy I didn't want more time to go by." Rayne said still embracing him. "Is this a bad time?"

"No not at all. We just haven't had many visitors lately. Come in."

"I'm sorry, I should've come by sooner." She said somberly entering Vince and Jo’s home. She did truly feel bad that with the chaos of the holiday season that she hadn't been over to see Vince or Jo. She hoped they knew that she was not avoiding them.

"You don't have to apologize Legs." Vince patted her on the shoulder as they walked into the living room where Jo laid curled up on a plush white couch watching tv.

"Ray??" She shot up from the cushions rushing over to her best friend hugging her tightly. "Oh I missed you!"

"I'm sorry I haven't come by and I'm sorry to just drop in. But I wanted to see you guys." The three sat down in the living room. Rayne slipped her heels off and pulled her legs up underneath her. "This might be a stupid question but how are you guys doing?"

Vince looked like an absolute wreck, so if she was judging the book by its cover she would say he was doing the worst. But she also knew that Jo was good at hiding her struggles. Rayne watched as Jo placed a hand on Vince's thigh. "I think we're hanging in there right?"

"All things considered yeah we're hanging in." Vince nodded his head. "I'm glad I have you here with me babe, otherwise I don't know that I would be."

Rayne smiled at the tender moment between the couple. She usually did not see that side of Vince and Jo's relationship. "Nowhere else I'd rather be baby."

"So, you're obviously without a certain drummer." Vince said not to subtly.

"Yeah. I tried to get him to come with me. I just, I don't think he knows what to say. He thinks Vince doesn't need to be babied and that's what he thinks he'll be doing if he came to check on you. We actually got into a bit of an argument about it." Rayne shrugged her shoulders. She watched as Vince hung his head nodding slightly. "Have you heard from any of the guys?"

"Not a word. The only reason I know I still have a band is through phone calls with Doc." Vince spat out. She could feel how much that stung him. Motley Crue had always been a gang of brothers until things got tough for Vince and now that mentality seemed to be gone.

Rayne was about to respond but the phone rang stopping her from speaking. Vince stood up, "Speak of the devil, that should be Doc."

Vince left the room and Rayne turned to Jo. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Jo nodded, "it's tough. But it's tougher on Vinny than it is on me. I hurt for him because I know he's hurting."

Rayne immediately understood what Jo meant, she had been there herself many times, damn empathy!

"I think what bothers him most isn't the stuff the media says, or what MTV says, or the court ordered things he has to do. It's that no one in the band have said a word to him. He's completely alone apart from me." Jo continued.

"I'm sorry Jo. I really tried to get Tommy here but he's being stubborn." Rayne sighed.

"Do you think he's pissed about the miscarriage?" Jo questioned.

"I don't think so, I mean he's not pissed at me for it. Why would he be pissed at Vince?" Rayne ran her fingers through her curls.

Jo sighed, shaking her hair. "I don't know. At least tomorrow he goes back into the studio. Maybe that'll help mend things."

"I'm here for anything you guys ever need. You know that right Jo?" Rayne watched as her best friend silently shook her head before taking a deep breath composing herself.

"I know Ray. And I appreciate that more than you know." Jo smiled hugging her friend. "How are things with you and Tommy? You said you got into an argument? Didn't you just get back from Cabo?"

"Yeah we did. I don't wanna get into it, you've got enough going on without having to listen to my bullshit." Rayne brushed Jo's questions off.

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't want to hear." Jo smiled.

"Well it kinda all started the night we got there. I found some stuff in Tommy's bag…"

"Tommy I found some stuff in your bag that I want to talk to you about." Rayne pulled her legs up toward her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"What's up babe?" Tommy asked sitting down on the lounge chair next to Rayne.

"Tommy last night after you fell asleep I wanted to clean myself up and wash my face. I was looking around what I thought was my bag for my skin care. I didn't want to wake you up so I didn't turn any lights on. When I got to the bathroom and turned the lights on I noticed I didn't grab stuff from my bag it was your bag." Rayne knew she was rambling but she didn't care, there was no easy way to bring up what she had to talk to him about. "Tommy it was a bottle of white powder and two bottles of nondescript pills. Now apparently I'm naive but not so naive that I don't know what that powder is."

Tommy stayed silent.

"So after beating myself up for my stupidity since then I figured I'm done beating myself up but I will talk to you about it. Do you know how much trouble you could've gotten us in if you had been caught with that shit at the airport?"

"Well we didn't get caught did we?" Tommy said a bit annoyed.

"That's not even the point Tommy. How dependent are you on this shit that you're bringing it on vacation with us? We were supposed to use this time to relax before things start ramping up again."

"I am relaxing." Tommy deflected the question.

"How can you relax when you're hopped up on coke Tommy?" Rayne was starting to get upset. "I knew you did it when you were with the band, I didn't think you had to do it when you were home with me."

"You knew that I did coke when you met me. I don't know why you're flipping out."

"Tommy I knew you did coke, but if you're bringing drugs on vacation with us that tells me it's more than recreational use. Then when I see two bottles of unlabeled pills excuse me if I don't have questions." Rayne took her sunglasses off to look at him. "Tommy why are you doing these things when you're with me? Why do you need to self medicate yourself when you're with me?"

"You told me when we first met that you weren't my mother and wouldn't ask me to change." Tommy defended himself.

Rayne sighed exasperated before replying. "Tommy I am not your mother. But I think as someone who is planning on being your wife I have the right to be concerned about what you're putting in your body. Do you know how fucking dangerous it is to do a drug like coke and I assume the pills are downers to bring you down after your high? You could kill yourself doing that Tommy do you get that?"

"I'm not going to kill myself." Tommy shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Tommy you're putting drugs into your body, you never know how you're going to react to them!" Rayne said frantically. "I don't want to get a phone call one night when you're on the road saying you're coming home in a body bag."

"That's not going to happen." Was his simple response. He was driving Rayne crazy, he wasn't listening at all.

"Look Tommy. I'm doing the one thing that has been the hardest for me to do since you've known me which is communicate. I'd appreciate it if you would at least listen to my concerns. I could've just sat on this and blown up on you."

"Oh so you're not blowing up on me now?"

"Tommy I am an Italian woman from New Jersey, I may have lived in California for years but that is something you never lose. If I was blowing up on you, it would be much worse than this." Rayne threatened only to hear Tommy mumble something under his breath. "Excuse me? Did you have something to say?"

"Well I can't win so it's pointless."

"Did I say you couldn't win? I'm having this conversation because I want to hear what you have to say." Rayne leaned toward him in her lounge chair.

"There's no point in talking about it. I can't stop so there's no point."

"What do you mean you can't stop?" Rayne asked him.

"I can't stop. I've tried and when I do I get sick." Tommy sighed pushing his dark locks off of his face. Rayne thought to the few times she had been with Tommy where he was indeed under the weather, he claimed it was a stomach bug. "I try to not do it when I'm with you but when we're together for long periods of time I can't not do it. It has nothing to do with you, it has everything to do with me."

Rayne gently placed her hand on Tommy's knee giving him a light squeeze. She knew she had to tread lightly. "Tommy you know you can get help if you want it."

"There's no point." Tommy shook his head. "The record company practically forces krell up our noses. I do not have the capability to say no."

"I think you can do anything you set your mind to. And I think you can say no… even if you never say it to me." Rayne cracked a little joke which resulted in a smile from Tommy. "Babe I'm just looking out for you, I want to spend my life with you and I think that shit will drastically decrease that time."

"Well I'll definitely go before you anyway."

"Why do you say that?" Rayne asked tilting her head slightly.

"Because I don't want to be on this planet without you by my side, so I have to go first." Tommy flashed a lopsided grin. "So where do we go from here?"

"I think I've made it clear I think you should really ease off using. But I also think I can't make you do anything you have to do it for yourself." Rayne comfortingly replied.

Tommy sat with his head hanging low before he looked up and met Rayne's eyes. "I'll get help. I don't want to be like this. I see what drugs are doing to Nikki."

"If that's truly what you want to do I'll be with you every step of the way." Rayne leaned forward kissing his cheek.

"You want to start by flushing everything I brought with me?" Tommy asked almost shyly. Rayne nodded her head and the two walked hand in hand back to their suite.

"Wow, so he's clean?" Jo asked Rayne.

"He's working on it. He can't go into a rehab because the band is just about to start recording so he's in this outpatient type thing. He's been pretty sick so home is my next stop. I made him some chicken noodle broth last night." Rayne gave a brief flash of a smile.

"You think it'll stay that way?"

"I know coming off drugs isn't easy. I don't expect him to be perfect but we agreed he wouldn't hide anything from me if he did slip up. That’s what I would have a problem with above all." Rayne shrugged. "But I think temptation is going to be all around him all the fucking time. I don't think it'll be easy."

"And we thought dating rockstars would be glamorous." Jo smiled giving Rayne a gentle shove.

"Correction, you may have thought that. I never wanted to date a rock star." Rayne laughed at how Tommy just sort of fell into her lap.

"Well it's a two way street Ray, I'm here for anything if you need me."

"Thanks babe. I appreciate that. I should probably get going and head home.” Rayne leaned forward to wrap her best friend up in a hug. She looked at the video that was playing on the TV and was shocked to see the guy she had met in the bar with Doc the night she went to see Journey. He was singing in a video and he wore lavender leather pants. Rayne wanted to say she had met him to Jo, but figured that would result in her telling the whole story and right now she wanted to go home to her man.

"Alright I'll see you later. When is your show by the way?" Jo stood up walking Rayne to the door.

"A few weeks, why?"

"Well because I want to be there to support you, silly." Jo rolled her eyes playfully. "You're looking great by the way but stop losing weight!"

"I'm not losing weight I've just been taking my classes more seriously. I'm losing fat and putting on muscle apparently. Whatever the hell that means." Rayne shook her head. "Trust me I'm still eating plenty, I had so many tacos while we were in Mexico."

"I'll see you later babe."

"Tell Vince I said bye." Rayne called out over her shoulder to Jo before hopping in her car and heading home.

Not too long after Rayne opened the front door to her home placing her keys on the ring by the front of the door. She took a deep breath and could smell some delicious cooking emanating from the kitchen. "Tommy?"

"In here babe." She heard his voice and made her way toward the kitchen. When she walked in she leaned against the island in the middle of the room. "I was hoping everything would be done by the time you get home but it's almost there."

"What are you making?" Rayne asked walking toward him giving him a light kiss on the cheek. He definitely seemed a lot better today, not too sick.

"My world famous gyros." Tommy smiled wide gesturing toward a bunch of various toppings that were lined up on the counter. “What do you know about Greek food.”

"World famous huh? How come I've never had them before?" Rayne teased looking out at all the delicious food.

"Cooking has been taking my mind off other things." Tommy spoke honestly. "And I wanted to treat my girl to a good dinner."

"First Jo tells me to plump up and now you are trying too." She winked. "But I can't wait it looks delicious."

A timer dinged and Tommy moved to the oven and pulled out some delicious looking meat. "You're going to have to show me how to put one of these together. I've never had one before."

"You've never had a gyro before? Oh baby wait to have your mind blown." Tommy smiled as he began cutting the meat.

He wasn't lying either, Rayne couldn't believe she had never eaten a gyro before it was absolutely delicious. Who would've thought the crazy rock n roll drummer was also a stellar cook.

The two of them cleaned up and ended their night curled up under the covers of their bed with the fireplace roaring in their room. Rayne traced mindless patterns across Tommy's chest. "Are you excited to get back into the studio tomorrow?"

"I'm nervous as fuck." Tommy honestly responded.

"Just take everything as it comes, don't get in your head and start beating yourself up." Rayne said softly.

"I haven't even talked to any of the guys since we got off tour." Tommy sighed.

"Well I told you to come see Vince with me but no, you didn't want to." She playfully mocked.

"I know, I'm an ass. How was Vinny?"

"He's been better Tommy." Rayne replied honestly. "So cut him some slack tomorrow okay? I think he would have really liked to see you today."

She felt Tommy nod his head and it made Rayne smile. She knew it wouldn't be easy but maybe Tommy and Vince could lean on each other. But Rayne also knew that was easier said than done. Stretching her body and letting out a yawn she let her eyes flutter closed and drifted off to sleep.

Tommy however remained awake, his arm wrapped around Rayne gently caressing her back. Since they had flushed everything in Mexico things had been fairly easy. But he knew the studio would be an entirely different animal. He was one half of the terror twins and he knew Nikki wasn't slowing down on anything anytime soon. It was fucked up, Tommy used drugs to keep him going to be able to experience life to the fullest. Nikki used to get him out of some dark fucking place, but Tommy wasn't so sure he didn't like it there.

Tommy silently vowed to himself that he would be strong and he wouldn't let Rayne down. The woman in his arms was like a saving grace and the only thing that mattered to him. And he would not do anything to screw that up… but the little devil on his shoulder kept telling him he was going to do just that.

There you have it, can you believe we’re at Chapter 21 already??? I really enjoyed bringing Vince and Jo back in and giving a peak into what they’ve been going through. The Motley guys will be back in the next chapter and so will some drama. Please let me know what you all think, your comments and feedback really fuel my writing and keep me inspired! Have a great week everyone!

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