You're My Favourite Sound

My heart was racing and my stomach was tightening and twisting itself up. I tried to act as normal as possible, and went about my business of sorting out notes and patch charts and hanging up mic sheets on the wall in front of me. Alex was on stage, running cables to the drum mics and trying to place them around the still invisible set.

"Halloween, the shit's here, want me to unload all of it?" he called out suddenly as my head shot up to see that the dock was open.

"Um, yeah, I-I’ll come help with the instruments," I answered, trying to keep my words as shake-free as possible, and hoping that I hadn't drawn too much attention but at the same time, hoping I had. Sure enough, as I jumped the wall, I could see three members of MCR staring at me. Mikey was still in conversation with David.

I jogged over to the stage, threw my leg over it and pulled myself up. I stood stage center, allowing the lights that I had turned on to cast a picturesque silhouette of myself to the audience. I stood at the front of the stage, both hands on my hips and my weight shifted all to my left foot. The guitar rack rolled in front of me as I pointed it to a new location and watched as the drum set came on piece by piece.

As the unload progressed, the band had disappeared into the hallways of the backstage of the club, most likely to go hang out in the dressing room for a while. I sighed with relief because knowing that they were watching me was driving me absolutely insane.

"I can't believe they're here," I whispered to myself, shaking my head in disbelief and wondering why there were only four of them.

"Who, My Chem?" Alex asked as he came up behind me. "Didn't you know they were playing tonight? It's really cool because me and Frank have known each other for years, we were friends in Uni back when I lived in NJ."

My heart stopped again and I tried hard to move my mouth so my jaw wasn't hung open. "You. Were. You. What?" I breathed.

"Yeah," Alex nodded with a smug grin, "We don't see each other as much as we used to, for obvious reasons like he's this big rock star now, but every time he's in LA we get together." He shrugged like it was no big deal and took in my sudden extremely pale expression. "I didnt know you were a big fan," he added and chuckled, "Look at you, you're star struck!"

I was finally able to close my mouth and form words that made sense.

"No, no, it's not that... it's just..." I took a breath before continuing, "We're old friends, I've known them since I was thirteen, because of my dad, and... we haven't seen each other for over three years."

"So?" inquired Alex, "Go and talk to them, catch up..." I shook my head.

"We didn't exactly part on good terms," I confessed.

After everything had been unloaded, Alex and I were left onstage to assemble the kit and get everything set up for sound check. It was nearing 4 and sound check was supposed to be at 5, so to not get into anything before he asked about why we didn't part on good terms, I told Alex to organise the guitar rack, which left me on stage alone to put together the drum kit. I sat on the ground, fumbling with the kick mic when a voice behind me made me jump.

"Need any help with this?" the very familiar voice said as my heart made another stop. Swallowing quietly, I slowly turned around. My eyes were level with his knees, which were covered by grey pants, and he was wearing black boots. I followed him up to see his black, button-down shirt and white pencil tie, and then met his bright honey eyes with my own.

He smiled at me and at this point, I felt myself lose control over my face as I knew that it was beaming up at him. "Hey, Gerard."

"How's it going, October?" he said as he crouched down next to me.

I nodded briefly and answered, "It's going."

"So David tells me that you’re going to be our sound tech for tonight’s show. That’s amazing. You seem to be doing well for yourself." His voice was so steady.

"Um, yeah. David was nice enough to give me a shot here, that's all," I mumbled.

At this point, I had completely stopped messing with the mic and was distracted by the way his hair fell so smoothly around his white face, just like it used to, just like Frank's used to... After I realised how long I had been staring at him, I ripped my eyes away and focused them back on the mic, partly hoping that he’d go away but mostly wanting him to stay longer.

"Uh, I’ve got a lot of things to do before sound check..." I mumbled again, regretting every word I spoke.

"... So you could use some help, right?" he responded with a half smile. I let out a small laugh mixed in with my forced exhaling and tried to think of what to say next.

"Well, if you could put those mic stands where you guys want them for the show, that would be helpful," I said, pointing to three mic stands that were still in the pit. He stood up and jumped off stage to bring them up.

I finished up with the kick mic and started to assemble Bob’s kit, using the kit map that Alex had given me. Once I put it in generally the right spot, I sat down at it and tried to make sure it felt right, reminding me of that night I was at the studio those three years ago, whilst the band got their previous album sorted, and Bob had asked me to help him with his kit.

Gerard came over with wide eyes and grabbed my left hand suddenly. "Woah, am I seeing right?" he gasped, waving my hand so the diamond on my finger sparkled in the light. "Could it be that Miss. Armstrong, the rebellious seventeen year old from Berkeley, is getting married?!"

"I'm not seventeen anymore," I reminded him.

"Obviously," he emphasised, motioning to the ring again, "Whose the lucky guy, huh? Has to be a badass, right? Piercings, tattoos, weird hair?"

I shrugged. "Well, not really... it's Ethan." Gerard's eyebrows shot up.

"Frank's cousin?" He blinked, "Really?"

I frowned and moved the drum stool closer to the bass drum. "Why does that surprise you?"

"Well, I-I..." he started and scratched the back of his head nervously, "I dunno, I guess he didn't seem you're type... I mean, Frank never thought you two'd last." Gerard looked at me, a little embarassed, and my frown deepened.

"Well he was wrong," I said a little quieter. How dare Frank asume such a thing, after all, he was the one that left. Where was he anyway?

My eyes fell to the floor underneath me and I rubbed my forehead with a sigh, before getting up to get ready for sound check. I needed to leave. I headed towards backstage to see if Alex was done with the guitars, but Gerard's voice stopped me.

"He's not here," he said from behind me and I stopped to turn back round to him, gradually. "I mean, he won't be here for sound check, he's gonna be late." I didn't say anything, so Gerard began walking towards me slowly. "Don't worry, he'll be happy to see you. He ran into some problems after we last saw you, as you'll probably notice when you see him... unless you heard already, or whatever..." He trailed off.

Problems? What did he mean by that? I still said nothing, just stared at Gerard like an idiot, so he continued again with a question I wanted to avoid.

"How've you coped after what happened... with everything?" he asked hesitantly. My eyes fell back to the floor and I swallowed. Gerard must have sensed I didn't want to talk about it because he then said, "Sorry, ignore that. It's none of my business."

I gradually looked back up at him to see him shaking his head lightly, but I answered anyway. "My friends and family helped me through it." He gave me a sympathetic smile, before I excused myself.

I raced into the bathroom at the back of the club as soon as I finished setting up. I stood in front of the mirror, analysing every single aspect of my appearance. My hair faded to its jet black tips in a messy, disheveled style. I ran my fingers through it, trying to smooth it out, cursing to myself that I should have gotten up earlier to wash it. I straightened out my sweater, trying to cover up my apparent midriff which was caused by the jeans that I was wearing, being a size or two too big and held up only with my belt.

I can do this.

I ran my hand through my hair one more time and turned to walk out of the bathroom. I glanced out the window in the back of the club as I walked back to the booth, seeing the line already forming for the show tonight. Girls in tight shirts and short skirts, boys in mohawks and concert shirts, all excitedly chatting and anticipating their entertainment for the evening.

My attention was quickly snatched by David, who yelled my name and motioned for me to get to the booth to start sound check. I jumped over the wall, joining him at the board.

"So how is Mr. Way?" he asked with a sarcastically curious look on his face.

"... Um, what?" I replied, averting my attention to various knobs on the board and programming a basic wash of the lighting on stage.

"Alright, but just so you know, you’re really awful at hiding things," he said and went back to cleaning up the cabling behind the board.

I decided to just let the conversation die there, not wanting to get into anything that involved Gerard, Frank, or the band. I didn't even know what was going on, how was I supposed to talk about it?

The silence between us was broken by the sound of amps clicking on and guitars powering up on stage.

My eyes shot up over the wall to see Gerard standing at centre stage. Next to him, Ray's guitar hung off-center from his body and he held a pick between his teeth. They were both speaking with one of the stage techs and Ray seemed to be messing with the tuning pegs of his guitar.

I sat there, watching them as they spoke with the tech and Mikey and Bob, who had joined them on stage and were messing around with their own instruments, trying to get warmed up and ready to go.

I looked at my watch, it was 5.15, which meant that we were late, as usual. I took a deep breath and put on my 'game face'. All of a sudden, a strong, loud voice came to my throat and I yelled over to the guys.

"Okay, we’re running late and we’ve got a lot to do, so let's stop messing around and get this going."

All four of the band members' heads snapped around to see me standing with my hands on my hips and headphones around my neck, waiting for them to get their act together. They stopped what they were doing and stood there, looking at me and waiting for the next set of instructions.

Bob broke the silence with a loud "Yes, ma'am!" and everyone, including me, laughed.

"Alright guys. Bob, let's go through your kit, piece by piece, and get that shit out of the way," I shouted as I slid on my headphones, focusing in on the board.

My adrenaline rush was exactly what I needed to pull off the show that night. Everything went smoothly, all of the songs sounded great and the lighting worked just fine. I sat at the bar after the show, having myself a celebratory Dr. Pepper as Alex sipped on a whiskey and coke, reflecting over our success.

The crowd had finally cleared out and I was trying to keep my mind off of Frank for as long as possible, after I had seen him again for the first time as he did his thing on that stage, just like he used to. We hadn't had any encounters since he arrived not five minutes before the show started, he made no acknoledgement that he knew I was here, but I was certain I could see him glancing at me every now and again as I messed around with cables and things on the side of the stage whilst the band played.

And now I was here, behind this bar with Alex. I nodded along as he talked about next week's schedule, all the while secretly wondering whether or not Frank was going to come over here at all.

But then again, why would he want to see the girl that fucked him up three years ago?

Just then, Alex grinned widely and yelled out, "Frank!" I could see the punk himself in the corner of my eye, making his way over here, and I quickly dove for the vodka.

I hadn't touched vodka, no spirits really, not since that night by Aidan's grave when I was seventeen. When I was stupid. I was more of a beer girl, but right now, right at this very moment, I needed something stronger.

I grabbed a shot glass, poured in the alcoholic liquid and gulped it down in one. I could hear the two boys reaquaiting behind me as I did so, my back to them. I winced at the all too familiar taste in my mouth and got a strong vibe of de ja vu.

Damn, I hate vodka.

That being said, I took another shot and turned around to look Frank right in the eye as he stared straight back at me. I turned back to see if Alex was still there, which he wasn't. I hadn't heard him leave. I hadn't realised the two had stopped conversing.

"Still drinking that stuff?" Frank asked then, nodding to the shot glass in my hand. I looked down at it and then to the bottle of vodka, before finally uttering some words.

"I, um... well I-I..." They didn't make sense, of course. Frank walked around, took the chair that Alex had been sitting in and pulled himself up to the bar.

"You look really good," he told me, "Amazing even, stunning. You're always beautiful every time I see you. Well, every time I see you after a long period of time... Not that you're not beautiful any other time, it's just..." He laughed nervously at his blabbering and I just gawked back at him, unable to take in that he was here right now. "What I mean is," he continued, "You look great, October."

I felt my face getting hot and I looked down at my empty shot glass. Shoot me now. I suddenly began to feel rather skeptical of his motives and continued to look down, avoiding his eyes.

"But," he added, noticing my reaction to his attempt at breaking the ice, "This is new." He moved his finger up to my face and brushed the tip of it against my lip stud ever so lightly.

My eyes moved back to his and I was finally able to say something to him, "My nose was annoying me."

Frank gave me a smirk, that smirk that always used to melt my heart. I realised it still had that effect on me.

As well as the smirk, his hazel orbs remained, his jet black hair shagging in them slightly, just the way I liked it. Although he had no facial piercings anymore. His black shirt was hanging off of his body and his faded dark jeans were falling past his hips. Noting this, my eyes moved back up to his face and noticed his cheek bones on full show. I had never seen them like that, so visible.

I then realised there was a frightening look about Frank. I hadn't seen it earlier because he played onstage in a hoodie, but there was deffinately something else I had never seen on him before, ever, and my mind went back to Gerard telling me that he had had problems.

I figured out that maybe I knew what Gerard was talking about, because Frank was beginning to look like an Ethiopian kid.