You Drive Me Crazy
The Boys Check-In
Five pairs of eyes gawked at the tall structure, the top of which was so high up it seemed like a speck marring the blue sky.
“This is where we’re staying?” Bob asked incredulously.
“Yep, you got that right, boys,” Brian threw his arms around both of the Ways. “Best five-star hotel in Los Angeles. The Bella Muerte. Nice, huh?”
“What happened to the cheap motels? Ran out of greasy dollar bills?” Gerard jibed.
Brian snorted. “Save your voice for the stage, Gerard. Tomorrow’s gonna be your biggest show yet; why’d you think I reserved suites for you here? You all gotta rest properly; no getting wasted or sleeping late tonight, okay?”
“Suits? We’re not staying in bunkers?” Mikey piped up.
Brian shoved his lanky frame slightly. “What’s the point of spending thousands of dollars here if you guys can’t even enjoy it? You all have your own suites.”
“Woohoo!” Ray exclaimed. “Go Brian!”
They went towards the automatic double doors, which they had to stop and admire for about a minute before they went in. Their eyes widened further at the furnishing of the lobby, which seemed to be designed like a palace.
Brian walked near the front desk while the band followed behind him like a line of little ducklings after their mother. Some bellboys collected their luggage to be sent up to their rooms.
“Brian Schechter,” he said to the receptionist. “Manager of My…”
“Chemical Romance,” the girl, in her early twenties, finished with a shy smile. “I’m a huge fan.”
“Really?” Gerard peered at her nametag. “So, Belinda, what’s your favorite song?”
Belinda blushed, blonde hair falling over her blue eyes. “Um, off Bullets, Revenge, or Black Parade?”
Gerard grinned. “All in all.”
Belinda began arranging random papers that were scattered on the desk, melting under Gerard’s gaze. “T-that’s a hard question. It’s… a tie between Cemetery Drive and Disenchanted.”
“Both Track 12 off their records, right?” Gerard leaned closer. Belinda froze in place with his face inches from hers.
She opened her mouth to reply, but no sounds came out.
“That’s enough, Gerard. So, our reservations, please?” Brian said, snapping Belinda out of her trance.
“Um, uh, yeah.” She typed in her computer then brought out five flat objects the size of a credit card.
“Hotel Bella Muerte is completely computerized,” she started to recite what seemed like a practiced speech. “Especially our security, since we house the most prestigious of guests.” Gerard winked at her at that, and she almost squeaked.
Belinda swallowed before continuing. “Extensive background searches are made before hiring the staff, the rooms are opened or locked only by these swipe cards, and the security cameras are monitored 24/7.”
She talked about the different amenities in the hotel, like the pool and recreation rooms and buffets, then breathed deeply as she finished.
“Are there any questions?”
Gerard glanced at the band, then back at her. “No, Belinda. But thanks.” He patted her hand as she handed them the cards and told them the room numbers.
“We’ll see you later, okay?”
Belinda nodded feverishly, staring after the group as they headed for the elevator.
As the doors closed, Gerard burst out laughing.
Mikey shook his head. “You’re such a jerk, Gee.”
“Asshole, she was practically hypnotized,” Ray clicked his tongue.
Gerard regained his composure slightly. “Aw, come on. Lighten up; I couldn’t help it.”
“If only your fans knew how evil you are…” Bob trailed off.
“So what? You gonna expose me to one of those tabloids or something? You gonna allow that, Brian?” Gerard motioned to their manager.
“Sorry guys, as much I want to smack Gerard right now, it won’t be good for the band’s reputation,” Brian sighed, glaring at Gerard.
“See? I’m invincible,” Gerard said in victory. Bob stuck out his tongue. Gerard imitated him.
“Meanie,” Mikey joined in.
Gerard shrugged, “Well, you have to admit she was hot. She kinda looked like Britney Spears or something. Right, Frank?”
He nudged Frank’s elbow, who had been quiet the entire time and just listening to his iPod. .
“Mickey!” Frank screamed. Gerard jumped back.
“What?”
Frank took off his earphones. “Oh, um… nothing. You were saying, Gee?”
The elevator dinged as they reached their floor.
“Um, I think I get off here,” Ray spoke up.
“Yeah, my stop too…” Bob added.
“See ya,” Gerard pushed the close button, almost trapping Bob’s fingers.
“F you!” Bob yelped as he yanked his hand away. Gerard snickered.
Mikey looked at Gerard and Frank’s cards. “Uh, we get off at the next floor, Gee. Hey Frankie, you get the penthouse one! Sweet!”
“You’re so corny, man,” Gerard bonked his little brother’s head.
“Huh?” Frank looked confused.
“What’s up with you, Frankie? You’re so out of it,” Gerard said, then dragged Mikey out when they reached their floor.
“Bye Brian. Later, Frank,” Gerard waved.
“I had to be stuck with you…” Mikey muttered.
When the doors shut, Frank seemed glummer than ever.
“What’s that?” Brian inquired when he began to mumble incoherently.
“Um, nothing. Bye Brian,” Frank stepped out of the elevator when they reached the top.
“You all behave!” Brian yelled as the elevator closed and descended.
“This is where we’re staying?” Bob asked incredulously.
“Yep, you got that right, boys,” Brian threw his arms around both of the Ways. “Best five-star hotel in Los Angeles. The Bella Muerte. Nice, huh?”
“What happened to the cheap motels? Ran out of greasy dollar bills?” Gerard jibed.
Brian snorted. “Save your voice for the stage, Gerard. Tomorrow’s gonna be your biggest show yet; why’d you think I reserved suites for you here? You all gotta rest properly; no getting wasted or sleeping late tonight, okay?”
“Suits? We’re not staying in bunkers?” Mikey piped up.
Brian shoved his lanky frame slightly. “What’s the point of spending thousands of dollars here if you guys can’t even enjoy it? You all have your own suites.”
“Woohoo!” Ray exclaimed. “Go Brian!”
They went towards the automatic double doors, which they had to stop and admire for about a minute before they went in. Their eyes widened further at the furnishing of the lobby, which seemed to be designed like a palace.
Brian walked near the front desk while the band followed behind him like a line of little ducklings after their mother. Some bellboys collected their luggage to be sent up to their rooms.
“Brian Schechter,” he said to the receptionist. “Manager of My…”
“Chemical Romance,” the girl, in her early twenties, finished with a shy smile. “I’m a huge fan.”
“Really?” Gerard peered at her nametag. “So, Belinda, what’s your favorite song?”
Belinda blushed, blonde hair falling over her blue eyes. “Um, off Bullets, Revenge, or Black Parade?”
Gerard grinned. “All in all.”
Belinda began arranging random papers that were scattered on the desk, melting under Gerard’s gaze. “T-that’s a hard question. It’s… a tie between Cemetery Drive and Disenchanted.”
“Both Track 12 off their records, right?” Gerard leaned closer. Belinda froze in place with his face inches from hers.
She opened her mouth to reply, but no sounds came out.
“That’s enough, Gerard. So, our reservations, please?” Brian said, snapping Belinda out of her trance.
“Um, uh, yeah.” She typed in her computer then brought out five flat objects the size of a credit card.
“Hotel Bella Muerte is completely computerized,” she started to recite what seemed like a practiced speech. “Especially our security, since we house the most prestigious of guests.” Gerard winked at her at that, and she almost squeaked.
Belinda swallowed before continuing. “Extensive background searches are made before hiring the staff, the rooms are opened or locked only by these swipe cards, and the security cameras are monitored 24/7.”
She talked about the different amenities in the hotel, like the pool and recreation rooms and buffets, then breathed deeply as she finished.
“Are there any questions?”
Gerard glanced at the band, then back at her. “No, Belinda. But thanks.” He patted her hand as she handed them the cards and told them the room numbers.
“We’ll see you later, okay?”
Belinda nodded feverishly, staring after the group as they headed for the elevator.
As the doors closed, Gerard burst out laughing.
Mikey shook his head. “You’re such a jerk, Gee.”
“Asshole, she was practically hypnotized,” Ray clicked his tongue.
Gerard regained his composure slightly. “Aw, come on. Lighten up; I couldn’t help it.”
“If only your fans knew how evil you are…” Bob trailed off.
“So what? You gonna expose me to one of those tabloids or something? You gonna allow that, Brian?” Gerard motioned to their manager.
“Sorry guys, as much I want to smack Gerard right now, it won’t be good for the band’s reputation,” Brian sighed, glaring at Gerard.
“See? I’m invincible,” Gerard said in victory. Bob stuck out his tongue. Gerard imitated him.
“Meanie,” Mikey joined in.
Gerard shrugged, “Well, you have to admit she was hot. She kinda looked like Britney Spears or something. Right, Frank?”
He nudged Frank’s elbow, who had been quiet the entire time and just listening to his iPod. .
“Mickey!” Frank screamed. Gerard jumped back.
“What?”
Frank took off his earphones. “Oh, um… nothing. You were saying, Gee?”
The elevator dinged as they reached their floor.
“Um, I think I get off here,” Ray spoke up.
“Yeah, my stop too…” Bob added.
“See ya,” Gerard pushed the close button, almost trapping Bob’s fingers.
“F you!” Bob yelped as he yanked his hand away. Gerard snickered.
Mikey looked at Gerard and Frank’s cards. “Uh, we get off at the next floor, Gee. Hey Frankie, you get the penthouse one! Sweet!”
“You’re so corny, man,” Gerard bonked his little brother’s head.
“Huh?” Frank looked confused.
“What’s up with you, Frankie? You’re so out of it,” Gerard said, then dragged Mikey out when they reached their floor.
“Bye Brian. Later, Frank,” Gerard waved.
“I had to be stuck with you…” Mikey muttered.
When the doors shut, Frank seemed glummer than ever.
“What’s that?” Brian inquired when he began to mumble incoherently.
“Um, nothing. Bye Brian,” Frank stepped out of the elevator when they reached the top.
“You all behave!” Brian yelled as the elevator closed and descended.