Sister, I'm Not Much a Poet but a Criminal
Chapter 24
I stood at the stage entrance, watching the guys' last performance. I watched Frank, totally in his element on stage. He'd let me do his makeup, but I didn't think it looked as good as when he did it himself. When I heard Gerard start to belt out the lyrics to Helena, my chest heaved in a silent sob. They were closing the show, and it was all over. Frankie slid his hand into mine and led me backstage. To occupy myself, I played with the frayed seams of his fingerless glove.
Gerard grinned and held up a magazine that Brian had left for us on a table backstage. My eyes widened in horror as I realized why it was so important.
"I forgot all about that interview!"
"What did that little shit write?" Frank asked, giving my hand a comforting squeeze.
"Blah, blah, blah..." Gerard began skimming through the article for something of interest. "Here we go. 'Sisters Ariella and Molly are the only other people on the tour bus besides the band. Ariella is along for boyfriend Toro, and Molly claims to be simply along for the ride. The protective grasp that Iero has on her, however, says differently. He is quick to defend her and she seems to do the same for him. She was a fan of the band before getting the opportunity to tour with them, so they look to her for her opinion. She doesn't let this go to her head, and seems to be a genuinely nice person. All in all, the people involved in this tour are some of the kindest and most level-headed that you will ever meet. Fame hasn't gone to My Chemical Romance's heads, and it doesn't look like it ever will. They take things day by day, and refuse to let future possibilities affect the way they live.' Not too bad," he tossed the magazine back onto the table.
"I expected a lot worse," I admitted.
"You'd be surprised what assholes like that can write if they know that readers will like it."
We all went back to the bus to spend our last night together. Various tour stories were brought up from both this tour and ones past. Apparently, Ariella and I hadn't witnessed anything compared to what they used to do.
"Yeah, well you guys always came up with new and exciting ways to make me feel short," Frank pouted.
I gave him a peck on the cheek. "Don't worry, I'm just as short as you."
"You don't understand just how bad it can be until they decide to move the mirrors in a dressing room up a few inches so that all of them can still see, but I can't. I had to stand on a stool to do my makeup!"
"That's terrible," Ariella said sympathetically, although I could tell she was stifling a laugh.
"That's nothing," Mikey grinned. "You should have been there when we hid the stool, too!"
Bob chuckled. "Yeah, but he never thought to look in any other dressing rooms for one."
"What?" Frank sputtered. "You wouldn't let me leave the room! You had to lift me up to see my reflection!"
I couldn't hold back my laughter. He gave me a betrayed look, and I pretended to be sorry. It didn't work too well, though, because it only made me laugh more.
"I love you," I said between gasps for air.
He shook his head. "Yeah, whatever."
When we decided it was time to get some sleep, I crawled into the bunk gratefully. A part of me didn't want to fall asleep. I wanted to just lay there with Frank, watching him sleep. But the bigger part of me was dead tired.
Frank crawled in beside me, and I curled up next to him, taking in his warmth. I breathed in his scent, trying to memorize it. Cigarettes, sweat, and a somehow clean, fresh edge. I could get lost in that smell forever. I inhaled again, never wanting to forget the way it made me feel.
I tried to commit everything about the moment to my memory. The way he ran his hands softly through my hair as he waited for me to fall asleep, the way his chest rose and fell beneath my cheek with every breath, the way he kissed the top of my head every so often, just to make sure I knew he cared. Most importantly, I wanted to remember the way being this close to him made me feel. I was truly happy.
I finally fell asleep, safe in his warm embrace.
Gerard grinned and held up a magazine that Brian had left for us on a table backstage. My eyes widened in horror as I realized why it was so important.
"I forgot all about that interview!"
"What did that little shit write?" Frank asked, giving my hand a comforting squeeze.
"Blah, blah, blah..." Gerard began skimming through the article for something of interest. "Here we go. 'Sisters Ariella and Molly are the only other people on the tour bus besides the band. Ariella is along for boyfriend Toro, and Molly claims to be simply along for the ride. The protective grasp that Iero has on her, however, says differently. He is quick to defend her and she seems to do the same for him. She was a fan of the band before getting the opportunity to tour with them, so they look to her for her opinion. She doesn't let this go to her head, and seems to be a genuinely nice person. All in all, the people involved in this tour are some of the kindest and most level-headed that you will ever meet. Fame hasn't gone to My Chemical Romance's heads, and it doesn't look like it ever will. They take things day by day, and refuse to let future possibilities affect the way they live.' Not too bad," he tossed the magazine back onto the table.
"I expected a lot worse," I admitted.
"You'd be surprised what assholes like that can write if they know that readers will like it."
We all went back to the bus to spend our last night together. Various tour stories were brought up from both this tour and ones past. Apparently, Ariella and I hadn't witnessed anything compared to what they used to do.
"Yeah, well you guys always came up with new and exciting ways to make me feel short," Frank pouted.
I gave him a peck on the cheek. "Don't worry, I'm just as short as you."
"You don't understand just how bad it can be until they decide to move the mirrors in a dressing room up a few inches so that all of them can still see, but I can't. I had to stand on a stool to do my makeup!"
"That's terrible," Ariella said sympathetically, although I could tell she was stifling a laugh.
"That's nothing," Mikey grinned. "You should have been there when we hid the stool, too!"
Bob chuckled. "Yeah, but he never thought to look in any other dressing rooms for one."
"What?" Frank sputtered. "You wouldn't let me leave the room! You had to lift me up to see my reflection!"
I couldn't hold back my laughter. He gave me a betrayed look, and I pretended to be sorry. It didn't work too well, though, because it only made me laugh more.
"I love you," I said between gasps for air.
He shook his head. "Yeah, whatever."
When we decided it was time to get some sleep, I crawled into the bunk gratefully. A part of me didn't want to fall asleep. I wanted to just lay there with Frank, watching him sleep. But the bigger part of me was dead tired.
Frank crawled in beside me, and I curled up next to him, taking in his warmth. I breathed in his scent, trying to memorize it. Cigarettes, sweat, and a somehow clean, fresh edge. I could get lost in that smell forever. I inhaled again, never wanting to forget the way it made me feel.
I tried to commit everything about the moment to my memory. The way he ran his hands softly through my hair as he waited for me to fall asleep, the way his chest rose and fell beneath my cheek with every breath, the way he kissed the top of my head every so often, just to make sure I knew he cared. Most importantly, I wanted to remember the way being this close to him made me feel. I was truly happy.
I finally fell asleep, safe in his warm embrace.