Kiss Me, It's Beginning to Snow

The snow outside covered the ground in a blanket of pure white. No cars drove down the streets, and everyone was inside getting ready for the big holiday.

I looked out my hotel window, my eyes falling on the tour buses in the parking lot. Our bus was the one closest to the hotel, Mikey and Frank are sleeping on it tonight, only because they opted to.

The other bus, was The Used. We hadn't toured with them since we made Revenge, and that was a while ago.

Now we never talk to each other. We play our songs on stage, pass each other as we move backstage, and glare at each other if we ever made eye contact.

The door to The Used's bus opened, and Bert stepped out into the cold. A small orange light came suddenly, signaling that Bert was smoking.

I watched as he took a drag, the light of the ashes illuminating his face. Typical Bert, he's always smoking. Not that I'm a hypocrite for the moment, I smoke too, just not as much as him. He drinks too much too.

As I continued to watch, I saw Bert's head move a little, his face more exposed; I could have sworn his gaze was on me. Which would be weird.

Stepping away from the window, I let the curtain fall, and made my way to the bed I was supposed to sleep in that night. Ray was already asleep in the other bed, after having spent the whole day driving, for Brian, our manager, was with The Used.

Oh! And just in case you were wondering, no. We weren't the ones to come up with the brilliant idea to take The Used on tour, and once again, no. The Used wasn't that enthused with the idea either. On this holiday, I would rather be on the other side of the Earth.

Lying down, I pulled the blankets up to my chin, and memories of the way life used to be flooded into my mind. Like.... Like the time Bert and I first met, and how we had hit it off right away. Or the time The Used took us, My Chemical Romance, on a date. I still have the picture Bert's mom gave me in the bus. Of course, it's under my mattress so I don't have to look at his face.

Closing my eyes, I tried to fall into a peaceful slumber, but only went into a state of painful memories of life before.

* * *

In the morning, Ray, Bob and I checked out of the hotel, only to run into Jeph, Quinn, and Dave behind us. Not saying anything, we passed each other, us going out into the bitter cold, and them to check out.

We had an early concert that day, only because it was Christmas Eve. We all tried to change Brian's mind, but it didn't work. We had to play a concert on Christmas Eve. Stupid Bastard.

I mean, I love Brian to death, but Christmas Eve.... He's crazy.

Today was Brian's turn to drive our bus, considering he alternates bands.

"Good morning," he greeted us as we filed onto the bus, "Sleep well?"

"As well as anyone can sleep in a hotel," Ray answered, "Although, Gee didn't do too well."

"Couldn't get away from those dammed fans," I lied, adding what I hoped was a convincing smile.

"Sorry to hear that," Brian said, a smirk on his face, "Do you have enough energy for the concert?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll have enough." I smiled at Brian and carried my bags to the back, where we keep all our shit when we travel.

Setting my bags down on the floor, I unzipped my duffel bag, and took out the five presents that were already wrapped, and made my way back to the 'main' part of the bus, where we had a small Christmas tree set up on the booth that was never used in December.

Placing the five presents under the tree along with the others, I stood back and smiled. Christmas was a great holiday.

"Finally you put something under the tree," Mikey said, placing a hard on my shoulder.

"You greedy little fucker," I said, poking him in the stomach.

"Hey," he cried backing away, and running into Frank.

"Well, nice to see you too," Frank said, wrapping his arms around Mikey. Smiling, he slid his hands down his sides, and started to tickle him.

"No," Mikey cried as he doubled over in laughter, "Stop!"

I continued to poke his stomach, causing him to laugh even more. Mikey started to run away, and we chased after him, and jumped on him as he landed on the couch, continuing our tickling.

Brian walked by, ignoring our fight, like he always does.

"Brian," Mikey called between laughs, "Help," he reached out to him, but his arm recoiled as we continued to tickle him.

"Alright," Brian said, "That's enough."

Frank and I looked at each other, shrugged and backed off from Mikey. He continued to laugh although it was one of those pathetic, recovery-from-incessant-tickling laughs. He rolled off the couch and tired to pick himself up, but he was too weak to do it at the time.

"I'm going to check on The Used, and see if their ready to leave," Brian said, heading to the door.

"We can just leave without them," Frank said.

"Yeah, they know where we're going," I agreed.

"But they don't know how to get there," Brian said, opening the door, letting all of the cold air outside in.

"It's called a fucking map," I countered.

"Why do you hate each other so much," Brian demanded, shutting the door, "You two used to be inseparable."

"It's Bert's fault," I said, "If he wasn't a money-first-over-suffering-dying-people kind of a guy, none of this would have happened."

"Are you two still arguing over Under Pressure? Come on! That was.... How many years ago?"

"It's not just Under Pressure, it's Warped Tour, it's the interviews. Everything that man does makes me hate him ever the more."

"Have you ever missed the relationship that you two had?"

"Yeah, last night I did," I admitted.

"What if I were to tell you, Bert misses those days too?"

I stared at Brian intently, and said, "I'd say I don't believe you."

"Okay," Brian said, opening the door again, "Just making sure." he walked out the door into the icy air, and the door slammed him out of the view.

* * *

"We wish you a Merry Christmas and a rockin' New Year!" I sang to the roaring crowds. Mikey, Ray, Frank, Bob, and I ran off stage, thus ending the last concert of 2006.

"WOO-WHOO," Frank shouted as we entered the back stage area, "No more concerts for a week!"

We had a small party in our dressing room, singing Christmas carols, and basically just having fun.

What Brian had said about Bert kept eating at the back of my mind, and finally, it got way too much for me to handle.

Leaving the dressing room, I found a piece of paper, and a pen. Finding a smooth surface, I leaned down, and began to write.

Bert-

I don't have the guts to say this to your face, so I'm writing it down on a very small piece of paper.

Brian told me that you 'miss the way life was between us.' I'm not sure if he's telling the truth, or if it's some sick scam of his to try and stop our fight. But, even if it is a lie, and even if you'll never find it in your heart to ever like me ever again, I want you to know that I miss those days. I miss them, you, Quinn, Jeph, Dave, Branden, I miss them all with every pump of my black little heart.

Just thought you ought to know.

Merry Christmas-
Gerard

Folding the note, I made my way outside into the still, cold air, and to The Used's tour bus.

Opening the door, I found no one to be there. Walking up the stairs, I saw a small tree on their booth, with presents underneath, like ours.

Securing the note in the branches, I exited the bus, and made my way back to ours.

"Hey! Watch it,' exclaimed someone as I bumped into them.

"Sorry," looking up at each other, I glared at the sight of Bert's face.

"Watch were you're going ass hole." he said, through clenched teeth.

"Maybe you should druggie," I answered.

We glared at each other for another minute, before we headed back to our buses.
That was the longest conversation we both have had together ever since our fight started. And it wasn't really that great of a conversation either.

Meeting up with the rest of MCR outside the bus, we all filed on, and headed to our bunks, not looking at the tree, so to reduce the temptation of opening them.

It was Ray's turn to drive, and so he took the front seat, and followed Brian after giving him a reassuring honk.

The bus started to move, and I fell back onto my mattress, hearing something like glass, breaking underneath me.

Getting up, I lifted the mattress, and found a square picture frame, lying underneath it. The picture side was face down. Picking it up, small pieces of glass fell with a soft clink, and I flipped the picture over.

In black and white, was the picture Bert's mom gave me of our first date together. I had my arm around his shoulders, and his was around mine. We were both smiling, and.... Happy.

Letting the mattress fall on the loose pieces of glass, I took the picture to the front of the bus, and took it out of the frame. Throwing the glass away, and putting the frame under the sink, I grabbed a few pieces of tape, and went back to my bunk, and taped the picture to the side of the bus.

A small smile played at the corners of my lips as memories once again flooded my mind, but I pushed them back, and fell back down on my mattress, sleeping away the day, and the night.

* * *

"Wake up guys," Mikey called, "Merry Christmas!"

I opened my eyes to see my curtain drawn closed. I hadn't done that. Maybe Mikey did.... He was always looking out for me.

Getting up, I got down from my bunk, and made my way to the 'main' part of the bus.

Everyone was shifting through their piles of gifts, smiling at the names of who it was from, or shaking the boxes trying to guess what was inside them.

Upon arriving at the Tree, I saw a sheet of paper with my name on it, secured in the branches.

Reaching for it, I went to the other side of the booth, were the couch was, and I opened it.

Gerard-

Brian told me that you missed the times we had together, and to tell you the truth, little buddy, I do too.

I miss the times we used to share, like.... Like running from the cops. Remember? We laughed so hard, I thought my sides were going to explode! Oh... yeah, you do remember.... Disenchanted. That song makes me cry. So, if you can't find it in your 'little black heart' as you've always put it, to forgive me for being a dick, then I just thought you should know that I miss you. All of you.

Merry Christmas-
Bert

It was amazing. We both said practically the same things in our letters.

Getting up, I got dressed, and pulled on a coat.

"Gerard," Mikey asked, as I headed to the door, "Where are you going?"

"I'm... uh.... Going to wish Brian a Merry Christmas," I lied.

"I'll come with you," Mikey said.

"No! I want to do this alone."

"Okay...." Mikey gave me a confused look, and I walked out into the cold air.

The Used had parked on the other side of the deserted parking lot. Typical of us to not want to be near to each other.

I hugged my jacket close to me, as I walked across the parking lot.

Looking at their tour bus, I saw their door open, and a figure came out. It started walking towards me. As we got closer to each other, I saw it was Bert, and he probably saw that it was me.

I considered turning back, but I forced myself to keep going forward.

We stopped when we reached each other. I heard the sound of doors opening, and looked ahead to see the rest of The Used, and Brian standing out side, in their pajamas, and coats, watching us.

Behind me I could feel the eyes of my band mates watching us as well.

"Hey," Bert said.

"Hello," I answered.

"So, it's true then?"

"Yeah, and with you too?"

"Yeah."

I nodded, and we fell into silence.

"So, what part of us do you miss the most," I asked.

"Everything," he replied.

"Same here," I looked into his eyes, "I know this might ruin the moment, but yeah, you were a dick."

"And this might ruin the moment too, but you're such a fucking drama queen."

A flare of hatred flew across my mind, that almost made me want to punch him, but I fought it.

We stared at each other, not saying anything. Just staring at each other, daring the other to blink. I wouldn't have, if it weren't for a snow flake falling into my eye.

Raising my hand to my eye, I rubbed it, as the flake melted, and it's water ran down my face. Looking up, I saw Bert doing the same thing.

We both recovered, and stared at each other. Another memory came to my mind.

"That was so cool!" I exclaimed as Bert and I exited the theater after having seen RENT on Broadway.

"The music was awesome," Bert agreed. I took his hand in mine, a thing that we often did.

"I liked the lyrics," I said.

"They were great. So powerful."

We walked the dark streets, and entered a deserted area of the city that signaled that we were coming close to our buses.

I gripped the CD that I had bought in one hand, and held onto Bert's with my other.

We stopped in front of my bus, and turned to each other. We smiled, and a snow flake landed in my eye.

Raising my hand, I rubbed my eye as the flake melted, it's water running down my face. Looking up, I saw Bert doing the same.

A smile formed on my face as a line from the musical entered my mind.

""Kiss me it's beginning to snow," I said.

A smile formed on Bert's lips, and he kissed me.

It was the first time he had done so, and it was just a friendly little kiss, no passion or meaning behind it.

He pulled away, and we smiled. Hugging, I entered my bus, and he went on to his.

Watching the water roll down Bert's cheek, I smiled, then he smiled.

"Bert."

"Yes."

"Kiss me, it's beginning to snow," I said.

A smile formed on his face, like it had on that night, and he kissed me.

It was a friendly little kiss, no passion or meaning behind it. He pulled away, and we smiled at each other.

"Truce," he asked, holding out his hand.

"Truce," I agreed. Shaking it. I pulled him into a hug, and he wrapped his arms around me.

Pulling away, we went back to our buses.

"Ray," I said, as I reached mine, "Start the bus."

"What?"

"Drive over to theirs," I ordered.

"Sure," Ray, and everyone else, ran into the bus, and he started it, and drove to the other side of the parking lot, parking so our doors were facing each other.

Getting out, I ran into theirs, and sat down next to Bert.

"This is how Christmas should be," I said.

Slowly, Mikey, Frank, Ray, and Bob came on, and even slower, they sat down next to the members of The Used.

It didn't take long before we were all laughing, and telling stories of the memories we had of the life we had before the fight.

Frank quickly got up, and left the bus, and came back with his guitar.
Sitting down, he started playing Christmas carols, and we all sang.

That Christmas, no presents were opened. They all laid forgotten on the booths of our buses.

That Christmas, all fights were put asides, and a new and stronger friendship was made and mended.

That Christmas, the fight between me, Gerard Way, and Bert McCracken, had ended.