My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

It was now an hour and a half into the concert, and my God were My Chemical Romance really working the crowd. The whole band was extremely charismatic, and Gerard’s random conversations between songs defiantly helped the crowd get more excited.

“Okay.” Gerard said, out of breathe, into the mic, “Now the Black Parade is going to come off, and a really crappy band called My Chemical Romance is going to come on and play for you all.”

The crowd screamed and shrieked and jumped up and down and I couldn’t help but smile. I gave a thumbs up to the lights technician and he faded the stage to black.

My Chemical Romance trooped off the stage, their Black Parade outfits dripping in sweat.

“Ah, it feels so good to be back out there.” Gerard said, grabbing a bottle of water and gulping half of it down without hesitation.

“Your guys are doing great!” I told them, “The crowd loves you.”

They smiled at me and began pulling their outfits off, not bothering to change in private. I felt myself blush when I saw Frank standing in his plaid boxers.

Three techies came up and delivered My Chemical Romance’s second outfits to them. These were more comfortable clothes; unlike the stiff costumes they wore for the first half.

“Alright, ten seconds.” I said, watching as Bob tugged his shirt over his head and jogged to catch up with the rest of the band who were already trooping onstage.

“Hey guys, we’re My Chemical Romance!” Gerard said in a falsely high-pitched voice, “We’re going to play for you okay?”

The crowd screamed, and Gerard laughed, “This song is called I’m Not Okay, I Promise.”

Frank immediately began strumming his guitar and Gerard began singing. The song was pretty catchy, and I caught myself tapping my foot as I perched on a spare amp, watching the band.

The song was almost over when I saw something that made my insides drop. Gerard had just finished singing, telling the audience that he was telling the truth when he said he was okay. The guitars and drums went silent for a second, and Frank ran up to Gerard screaming, “Trust me!”

Then Frank planted his lips firmly onto Gerard’s.

I felt my eyes widened as Gerard kissed Frank back for three seconds, then pushed him away, continuing to sing. The screams, if possible, doubled in noise as this startling event took place.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. I mean, I had nothing against homosexuals. It’s a free world, and why should they be treated differently just because of what gender they love? But the thought that Frank, that extremely good-looking man, was gay…

Well, to be honest, that was a little unexpected.

Just then I caught myself, wondering why I cared whether Frank was gay or not. I was happily engaged, after all.

The rest of the concert passed in a blur. I remember not being able to take my eyes off Frank, watching him to see if he did anything else with Gerard, but he didn’t.

After the show was over, we all trooped back to the tour bus, which was to take us to our hotel for the night. Let me tell you, I had already ridden six hours in this bus from Belleville to Greensburg, but never will my nose get used to the smell that thrived inside My Chemical Romance’s bus.

“Good show everyone.” I said, trying to breathe through my mouth to avoid inhaling the stench.

The guys just nodded, too tired to apparently speak. I leaned back against the couch in the bus, staring at Frank who was lying on the floor, his head near Gerard’s feet.

He noticed me staring, and then smiled a little at me.

“We’ve never had a show go so smoothly.” Ray said to me, “Usually something or other goes wrong and we’re freaking out on stage about it. You’re a good manager.”

“Thanks.” I smiled appreciatively at him, “I’ve never had a first show go so smoothly either.”
“Really?” Frank asked, suddenly interested, “What usually happens?”

I shrugged, “Usually it’s just a problem with the microphones, or the lights. One time I was managing a show in the middle of a storm and the power went out.”

“No shit?” Frank laughed, “What did you do?”

“We had a back-up power source, and told the band to keep the audience busy while we hooked it up.”

“Wow. If it were us in that situation we’d stand around like idiots doing nothing.” Gerard assured me, quite happily.

I laughed. The more time I spent with these guys, the more I liked them. Usually I didn’t get so close to the artists or bands I managed so quickly, but these guys we’re surprisingly sweet and easy to talk to.

Just then we pulled up at our hotel – the Marriott. I told the tour bus driver to be here at 8 AM the following day, and he nodded, waving us off the bus.

Once the boys were situated in their rooms, I walked down the hall to mine. I had just closed the door and was thinking of taking a quick bath before checking my email when someone knocked on my door.

I sighed, turning to open the door. Frank stood on the other side, smiling sheepishly.

“I don’t mean to be a pest… but Gerard and Ray claimed the two showers, and I desperately need one. Fortunately none of the other guys are smart enough to ask you to borrow yours.”

I let him without a word, deciding I would check my email while Frank showered.

There were no new emails in my inbox, and I settled on watching TV. After about ten minutes of Jerry Springer, Frank emerged from the steaming bathroom, only a towel draped around his lower body.

I darted my eyes towards his abdominal muscles before glancing away quickly.

“Sorry for always asking to use your bathroom.” Frank apologized, grabbing a hand towel and rubbing it through his hair, “It’s just Ray takes forever and Gerard is a bathroom hog.”

I surveyed him for a second, debating whether to ask him the question that was burning on my mind.

Oh, what the hell, I thought.

“Frank, can I ask you a personal question?”

He turned towards me, his eyebrows raised, “Yes?”

“Are you… I mean, do you have a significant other?”

Frank laughed, “Nope.”

“But… okay, it’s just that I saw you and Gerard onstage, and I-“ I stammered slightly.

Frank began laughing so hard that he needed to sit down beside me on the edge of the bed to control himself.

“Lindsey, Gerard and I do that shit onstage all the time. It pleases the fans.” He said, still chortling.

I nodded, understanding coursing through my body as I stared into his eyes.

“Now it’s my turn for a personal question.” Frank said, grinning a cute, secretive smile at me.
“Mmm?” I made a small sound, still struck by his fascinating eyes.

“Do you have a significant other?”

“Huh? Oh-“ My mind was fuzzy from staring at his eyes too long, “No.”

Frank smiled then, a smile that lit up his eyes and jolted me to the present situation and what I had just said.

“I mean-“ I started.

A banging erupted from my door, and then Bob’s voice shouted from the other side of the door, “Frank! We need you back in our room. Gerard wants a band meeting.”

Frank smiled at me warmly, then hopped up, obviously oblivious to my stammers of “Wait, I actually-“.

“See you tomorrow.” He said, before disappearing out the door.

I slumped onto my bed.

What had I just done?