It's Not the Life It Seems

”I seriously don’t understand why Gerard is dating that fucking skank. He could do soooo much better.”

“I HATE Honey so much. She is ugly and her music sucks so bad. Gerard needs to wake up and dump her ass.”

“GErarD WaY iS Lyk So hAWt. I aM so JEalOUs.”

“Honey Meadows is a shitty pop star, who has no talent, no abilities and is merely a product of producers and agents who have a vested interest in her. She is a brainless clone whose biggest feature is her looks.”

Honey sighed and clicked the back button on the internet web browser. She knew she was hated, she knew people wouldn’t like the idea of her and Gerard, but it still hurt to read nasty things written about her.

People always told her to ignore what was written about her. That they were simply jealous that she had everything they wanted and they took it out through the many forums dedicated to hating her. But it didn’t change the fact that it hurt. Every mean word spoken about her would cut Honey deep, make her question her ability to even be in the public eye and cause her to sulk for days, wondering why people hated her so much.

Honey had been intrigued to see what the MCR fan’s thought of her, as she had been with all her ex’s bands fans. So she had opened up her laptop and found the most popular MCR website that could feed her with the information and knowledge she wanted. Honey had been surprised to find, when she entered the forums, that there was a whole thread dedicated to dissecting the relationship between herself and Gerard. She had immediately clicked on it, and then regretted in only seconds later after her eyes had glanced over the first few posts.

The problem was, Honey couldn’t stop reading them. It was horrible to read, but she just couldn’t stop. With each post she read she had the burning question of why? Why did they hate her so much, why did they think it wasn’t going to last? She hated the judgment, she hated how everyone seemed to get a kick out of predicting her future. They seemed to relish in her failures, and mourn her success.

“What are you doing?”

Honey looked up from her computer to see Bob standing in the door to the bunk area. He held a bowl of cereal in his hands which he munched on as he waited for Honey’s answer, milk dripping down the side of his mouth.

“Just…reading,” Honey replied and wiped the side of her own mouth as a hint for Bob to do the same. Bob looked at her confused for a moment before mimicking her action, wiping of the milk and sucking it off his thumb.

“Reading what?” he asked, raising the spoon.

Honey sighed. She hadn’t really wanted to tell him the truth, deeming herself pathetic for reading the mean posts and opinions for so long.

“I’m actually on one of your fan sites. I wanted to see what they thought about me…which is apparently not much. I don’t think I have ever been so hated in my life.” Honey told him honestly.

“Why? Are they saying mean things?”

Honey pointed at her laptop. “Come see for yourself.”

Bob made his way over to Honey and awkwardly joined her on her bed, balancing his Lucky Charms on Honey’s white sheets. He peered down at the computer, soaking in the words on the screen until he got to the end of the first page and realized how uncomfortably close he was to Honey. Bob was practically sitting on her lap, his head so close to hers he could feel her hot breath on his neck as she leaned over him to see what he was reading. He jerked his head away and turned to face her.

“That’s mean,” he said plainly.

“Yes, it is,” Honey agreed, closing down the laptop.

“Do you care what they think?”

Honey bit her lip and gave a small nod. “I do Bob. I don’t like them hating me and thinking I’m not good enough for Gerard. They don’t even think I’m good enough to tour with you and they especially hate me because now all of my fans are listening to you, which is making your fans angry,” she explained.

“Oh,” Bob said, not knowing what to say.

“I don’t want to be hated, Bobby,” Honey whined to him, her big eyes filling with sadness and her full lips resting in a pout.

Bob could feel his heart melting, his tough persona fading with every sad look she gave.

“You’re not hated,” he attempted to reassure her. “You’re perfect the way you are, and if everyone else can’t see it, then that’s their fault.” Bob hoped he had said the right thing to her, but judging by the way her face lit up in a smile, he was fairly certain he had.

Honey leaped at Bob, wrapping her small arms around his neck, sending them both flying down onto the mattress. The bowl of cereal went crashing onto the floor next to them, milk spilling everywhere, but neither cared.

“Thank you Bob,” Honey whispered. Bob turned a little red, but wrapped his arms around Honey none the less as someone’s footsteps came closer and entered the room.

“Who spilled this fucking milk!? It is going all over my clothes!” Frank screeched, picking up his milk sodden hoodie from the ground.

He dipped his head down to see Bob and Honey looking innocent in the bottom bunk.

“You!” he hissed to Bob, who mocked a shocked face and pointed to himself.

“Me?” Bob asked innocently.

“You wrecked my clothes!”

“You shouldn’t leave them on the floor!” Bob retaliated.

Frank simply glared at him and whipped his head around to see what other damage the milk had done to the many items that were on the floor.

“Ger-ARD!” Frank yelled out, “Bob split milk on your makeup and now it’s all ruined!”

Bob’s face paled slightly as Gerard’s thunderous footsteps made their way quickly to the bunk area.

“Shit,” Bob squeaked as Frank smirked smugly down at him.

“What?” Gerard asked, to be sure he heard right.

“Bob. He spilled his cereal ALL over the floor, which in turn made its way over to where your make up was on the floor, hence it is now wrecked,” Frank dobbed.

“You little tattletale!” Bob exclaimed, as Honey burst out laughing at his choice of words.

“You little makeup ruiner!” Gerard yelled, tacking Bob back onto the bunk and crushing him with his weight. Honey scooted back further, to avoid being hit by Gerard as he got his revenge on Bob.

“Ow,” Bob half yelled, half laughed. “I’m sorry Gee!”

“You will be,” Gerard told him sincerely, ceasing digging his elbows into Bob’s stomach and instead just laying across the drummer. “I’ll get you back one day, Byrar. When you least expect it…won’t we Honey?”

“We?” Honey asked, looking up at him.

“Yes, we. We’re a team now, even though I do suspect you had something to do with the milk being over the floor,” Gerard told her. Honey simply grinned, showing off her perfect straight white teeth.

“Aw, be nice to Bobby. He was nice to me before when I was feeling sad,” Honey told him.

Gerard looked confused. “Why were you sad?” He asked, shifting himself off Bob and into the middle of the bed. Bob took one look at the pair, who were now looking deeply into each others eyes in a sickly sweet way, and jumped up from the bed.

“Uh, see you,” he mumbled and made his way out into the lounge, where Mikey and Ray were versing each other in a car racing game.

“Faster, faster, faster!” Mikey yelled at the television, as Ray’s Lamborghini overtook his red Ferrari.

“Hey dudes,” Bob said to them in greeting. Ray quickly turned his head to see who was in the room before re-focusing his attention back on the screen.

“What was Gerard yelling about?” Ray asked him.

“Oh that, he was just a little mad that I accidently ruined some of his precious make up,” Bob informed them.

Mikey snorted. “He is such a girl. How did you ruin it?” He asked.

“Spilt milk on the floor.”

Mikey paused the game and whipped around to face Bob.

“My jeans were on the floor. My phone was in those jeans!” he gasped. “Did you get my jeans?”

Bob shrugged. “You better go check.”

Mikey leapt up from the floor and darted towards the bunk area. Ray and Bob looked at each other and waited for his shrill scream that would tell them if his pants had indeed been wrecked.

Sure enough, the word “fucker” was screeched and Mikey came racing back in, waving his phone in front of him.

“It won’t turn on, it won’t turn on!”

Gerard emerged from the bunk room behind Mikey, laughing at his brother’s misfortune.

“Shut up Gerard,” Mikey hissed at him, pushing random buttons on his phone.

“Mikey, give it here,” Ray instructed him. Mikey handed over his phone, Ray pressed a button and the phone came to life.

“It usually help’s if you press the ‘on’ button, Mikes,” Ray said, smiling as he handed the phone back.

Gerard just laughed even more, as Honey and Frank came in watching with interest as the scene unfolded.

“Don’t be mean to Mikey,” Honey said, playfully hitting him before wrapping her arm around him.

“Why is the bus slowing down?” Frank suddenly asked, noticing the bus’ speed decreasing.

“Uh, we’re here maybe? Here being the venue we’re playing tonight,” Ray said slowly, making sure he understood.

“Oh,” Frank said, nodded and went to gather the things he would need.

Gerard turned to Honey. “You ready?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said with a smile, as the bus came to a complete halt.

“We’re here,” the bus driver called, “be warned, there a few fans out there.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Frank said breezily, walking past and placing his aviator shades on top of his head. Honey rolled her eyes and smiled at him, as Gerard grabbed her hand and lead them down the steps.

The second Gerard stepped off the bus, the crowd erupted in screams, cheering for their hero. They didn’t see the hand that was attached to his, until Honey stepped off behind him. The small group of fans that had gathered immediately began booing, making their strong dislike of Honey be known. Honey didn’t know it, but while the group had spent the hours waiting for the band to arrive, they had all discussed their mutual dislike for Honey. As they say, there is strength in numbers and together they had all formulated a plan to make her known that she wasn’t welcome.

“Go home you fucking ditz,” they yelled, as some tried to get to the band but where being held back by the security that had suddenly appeared.

“Fuck you Honey!” One girl yelled and spat, the saliva landing just before Honey’s heel encased feet. Honey looked up at the girl, tears welling in her eyes as she saw the venom spitting out of the girls eyes. Ray and Bob exchanged worried looks as another person attempted to spit at Honey, the crowd soon catching onto the idea. They were so consumed in their hatred, so excited about the prospect of making a stand against this girl that they no longer we desperate to meet the band, more concerned with making this outcast feel just that. Like an outcast.

Gerard looked at Honey, his own heart breaking as he saw her despair. He pulled her into his arms, and said, “No, fuck you,” to the first girl that had spat.

“This is fucking disgusting what you are doing,” Frank chimed in. Some people in the group looked ashamed, realization of what they were doing sinking in. Most of them had simply been caught up in the moment, had enjoyed being a part of a group because it made them feel accepted.

“Let’s go,” Gerard murmured to Honey, who nodded dumbly and allowed him to lead her inside. Once they were safely though the doors and into the sanctuary of the dark backstage area, Honey pushed Gerard away and made a break for it. She just wanted to be on her own, left to wallow in what had happened by herself.

“Honey!” Gerard yelled after her and started to come after her, but his attempt was futile. Honey was too fast and easily darted along the corridors, getting lost in the maze that was the backstage area.

Her phone started ringing, but she ignored it. Honey eventually stumbled across a small space underneath a stair case, when she immediately crawled under to hide from the world that could be so cruel.

And that was where she sat for the next three hours.