Farewells Aren't Goodbyes
Farewells Aren't Goodbyes
I’mma tell you a story;
About five beautiful boys;
That went to jail, that went to jail;
Here we go, here we go.
In the middle of a gunfight
In the center of the restaurant,
They say, “come with your arms raised high.”
Gerard Way sang the introduction of their song to the thousands of wild, screaming, breathless fans that had gathered at Times Square of New York City just so they could catch a glimpse and maybe, through all the din, hear My Chemical Romance play live for the last time. As the words rolled from his tongue with no effort or concentration needed whatsoever, he reflected on how him and his band had made it that far.
From being a mere twenty-five year-old with college dropouts as band mates to being a more intelligent thirty year-old with band mates still being college dropouts; whom he now considered as brothers. They were like family. From being a rejected artist to being thrust into the limelight for his singing talents. From being a virtual stranger to 99.99 percent of the world to being one idolized by people from countries he could not, and could never, pronounce.
From being a suicidal, drug-addicted alcoholic, to being a successful, clean man about to be married. They have come a long way.
I say a prayer
Say a prayer.
Smirking, his own signature smirk, Gerard walked over to Frank whose hands were all over the strings, whose eyes were roaming the crowd searching for Jamia. He wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the song, he knew it by heart. Heck, he even once claimed that if you gave him a guitar in his sleep, he would play that song. Satisfied he found Jamia where she said she would be, grinning up at her fiancé, Frank started to act up.
Ray, in his own corner, was concentrating on his every note, making sure they were strummed the right way. His light brown afro was bouncing up and down. His lips were pouting and he only smiled once in a while, assuring the crowd, he was still among the living. Gerard got used to that too. In fact, if Ray was not like that during practices or shows, they knew something was up. And they were usually right.
Mikey. His sweet brother Michael whom everyone was protective of. He stood, moving only slightly, near the drums with Bob. His hands were plucking at the strings as though in random. They were that familiar. His straightened, black hair lay flat on his head. He nodded his head once in a while and during moments when he felt the need, Mikey would jump up and down to get his blood pumping. Everytime he stared backstage at his wife Alicia, he would have this smile. Just the little upwards curve of his lips but such mundane actions seem to be so meaningful. It was feel with content, satisfaction. It was filled with love.
Bob, working his drums, smiled only between songs. His solid, blistered palm never loosened around his drum sticks. His focus never wavered. His eyes never left those of the drum he was beating. To him, it was just the drums and Bob, rocking out. That was what everyone liked about Bob. The quiet muscle of the band.
Slightly more that an hour later, with selected songs from all three albums played it was time for their goodbye.
“ This is to all our fans. Who stuck by us through the band’s joy and sorrow. To every fan who was ever a ‘Demolition Lover’. To every fan who has marched down ‘Cemetery Drive’ and was marching with us through ‘The Black Parade’. To every fan who believed they were vampires, just like us. To every fan who wept at the loss of Pansy and Mikey’s glasses. To every fan that dared fire at will. This is to every fan who stayed true. So long and Goodnight,” With those heartfelt words, Ray, Frank and Mikey started strumming. Bob started drumming and soon Gerard started singing.
Are you near me?
Can you hear me?
Do we pretend
To live and then
We’ll meet again
When both our cars collide.
Those words were screamed by every single fan who was there and also by those watching it from their television sets. In their minds, that day was oh so bittersweet. Tears were shed freely. Hugs were given out. Many were in disbelief at the ending of My Chemical Romance. But they would soon understand, Gerard thought with a heavy heart as the last few words were sung out. He felt giddy, so full of emotion. The five of them lined up for on last time.
“ Thank you, our fans, for the venom!” the curtains closed around them. In a flash, Eliza, Alicia and Jamia went to their man. Bob and Ray patted each other on he backs before hugging. It was hard not to tear up. In everyone’s eyes, were little droplets of water that symbolized everything he has been through. They packed up their stuff and wandered to their own vehicles to drive back home.
“ This is it guys. From now on, for maybe two or three years, My Chemical Romance would be just a distant memory. They would all remember our songs. The world would someday break out in a sweet rendition of “ Famous Last Words” and someday we would join them. Someday we would pick up our instruments, come for practice and jam like nothing ever happened. But that someday would be a while. All we can do now, is sit on our deck chairs at the beach and reminisce about the past and anticipate for the future.” Gerard’s words were met with silence. Four days after their concert, the boys met up for one last time in a while. Frank sat with Jamia letting the words wash over him. Bob and Ray sat next to each other smiling at the good past. Mikey was sitting on his own, scared to death.
“ But Gee, will we… will we stay friends? Will it matter that we’ve been inseparable for 5 years? I can’t… I don’t want this to end.” Choked out Mikey, eyes clouding over. The rest, feeling their throat close up, crowded around the young man for a group hug. Their last one for a while.
As the group went on their separate ways back to civilization, Gerard thought back with a smile. Will Bob become a pilot? Will Mikey go back to working at Barnes and Nobles? Will Frank start a new band? Will Ray pick up drum lessons again? Will he, Gerard Arthur Way, continue drawing?
That night, five matured man lay on their beds with heavy hearts. They lay and thought abot every show they have ever played. From basements to Times Square. That night five men lay and realized that they lost four fifths of their hearts to those they considered closer than family. To those they spent almost every waking moment with.
They lost their hearts to My Chemical Romance.
About five beautiful boys;
That went to jail, that went to jail;
Here we go, here we go.
In the middle of a gunfight
In the center of the restaurant,
They say, “come with your arms raised high.”
Gerard Way sang the introduction of their song to the thousands of wild, screaming, breathless fans that had gathered at Times Square of New York City just so they could catch a glimpse and maybe, through all the din, hear My Chemical Romance play live for the last time. As the words rolled from his tongue with no effort or concentration needed whatsoever, he reflected on how him and his band had made it that far.
From being a mere twenty-five year-old with college dropouts as band mates to being a more intelligent thirty year-old with band mates still being college dropouts; whom he now considered as brothers. They were like family. From being a rejected artist to being thrust into the limelight for his singing talents. From being a virtual stranger to 99.99 percent of the world to being one idolized by people from countries he could not, and could never, pronounce.
From being a suicidal, drug-addicted alcoholic, to being a successful, clean man about to be married. They have come a long way.
I say a prayer
Say a prayer.
Smirking, his own signature smirk, Gerard walked over to Frank whose hands were all over the strings, whose eyes were roaming the crowd searching for Jamia. He wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to the song, he knew it by heart. Heck, he even once claimed that if you gave him a guitar in his sleep, he would play that song. Satisfied he found Jamia where she said she would be, grinning up at her fiancé, Frank started to act up.
Ray, in his own corner, was concentrating on his every note, making sure they were strummed the right way. His light brown afro was bouncing up and down. His lips were pouting and he only smiled once in a while, assuring the crowd, he was still among the living. Gerard got used to that too. In fact, if Ray was not like that during practices or shows, they knew something was up. And they were usually right.
Mikey. His sweet brother Michael whom everyone was protective of. He stood, moving only slightly, near the drums with Bob. His hands were plucking at the strings as though in random. They were that familiar. His straightened, black hair lay flat on his head. He nodded his head once in a while and during moments when he felt the need, Mikey would jump up and down to get his blood pumping. Everytime he stared backstage at his wife Alicia, he would have this smile. Just the little upwards curve of his lips but such mundane actions seem to be so meaningful. It was feel with content, satisfaction. It was filled with love.
Bob, working his drums, smiled only between songs. His solid, blistered palm never loosened around his drum sticks. His focus never wavered. His eyes never left those of the drum he was beating. To him, it was just the drums and Bob, rocking out. That was what everyone liked about Bob. The quiet muscle of the band.
Slightly more that an hour later, with selected songs from all three albums played it was time for their goodbye.
“ This is to all our fans. Who stuck by us through the band’s joy and sorrow. To every fan who was ever a ‘Demolition Lover’. To every fan who has marched down ‘Cemetery Drive’ and was marching with us through ‘The Black Parade’. To every fan who believed they were vampires, just like us. To every fan who wept at the loss of Pansy and Mikey’s glasses. To every fan that dared fire at will. This is to every fan who stayed true. So long and Goodnight,” With those heartfelt words, Ray, Frank and Mikey started strumming. Bob started drumming and soon Gerard started singing.
Are you near me?
Can you hear me?
Do we pretend
To live and then
We’ll meet again
When both our cars collide.
Those words were screamed by every single fan who was there and also by those watching it from their television sets. In their minds, that day was oh so bittersweet. Tears were shed freely. Hugs were given out. Many were in disbelief at the ending of My Chemical Romance. But they would soon understand, Gerard thought with a heavy heart as the last few words were sung out. He felt giddy, so full of emotion. The five of them lined up for on last time.
“ Thank you, our fans, for the venom!” the curtains closed around them. In a flash, Eliza, Alicia and Jamia went to their man. Bob and Ray patted each other on he backs before hugging. It was hard not to tear up. In everyone’s eyes, were little droplets of water that symbolized everything he has been through. They packed up their stuff and wandered to their own vehicles to drive back home.
“ This is it guys. From now on, for maybe two or three years, My Chemical Romance would be just a distant memory. They would all remember our songs. The world would someday break out in a sweet rendition of “ Famous Last Words” and someday we would join them. Someday we would pick up our instruments, come for practice and jam like nothing ever happened. But that someday would be a while. All we can do now, is sit on our deck chairs at the beach and reminisce about the past and anticipate for the future.” Gerard’s words were met with silence. Four days after their concert, the boys met up for one last time in a while. Frank sat with Jamia letting the words wash over him. Bob and Ray sat next to each other smiling at the good past. Mikey was sitting on his own, scared to death.
“ But Gee, will we… will we stay friends? Will it matter that we’ve been inseparable for 5 years? I can’t… I don’t want this to end.” Choked out Mikey, eyes clouding over. The rest, feeling their throat close up, crowded around the young man for a group hug. Their last one for a while.
As the group went on their separate ways back to civilization, Gerard thought back with a smile. Will Bob become a pilot? Will Mikey go back to working at Barnes and Nobles? Will Frank start a new band? Will Ray pick up drum lessons again? Will he, Gerard Arthur Way, continue drawing?
That night, five matured man lay on their beds with heavy hearts. They lay and thought abot every show they have ever played. From basements to Times Square. That night five men lay and realized that they lost four fifths of their hearts to those they considered closer than family. To those they spent almost every waking moment with.
They lost their hearts to My Chemical Romance.