Under Jersey Skies

Gerard’s POV:

Walking up Ray’s driveway that afternoon was so nerve-wracking. I was terrified of what I might face behind that door. It’d been months since I’d jammed with the guys, I wasn’t even sure I was still part of the band. But I was willing to find out, if we could play a show together at Battle Of The Bands, then maybe, just maybe, we could start on the road to getting things back to normal.

I could hear the four of them playing as I approached the roller door of Ray’s parents’ garage, and waited for the noise to quieten down before I knocked. A few moments later, Ray rolled up the door, and met me with a smirk.

“Wow, look who finally decided to show up.” He sneered.
“Hey.” I spoke, nervously. “I know I haven’t been around for quite some time, and I wasn’t sure if I was even still in the band--”
Ray cut me off. “Then why bother showing up?”
“Because believe it or not, I still give a shit about this band, Ray.” I snapped.
“You haven’t exactly shown it the last few months.” He said, folding his arms.
“Hey, look, if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave.” I said, and was about to turn around and leave when Ray started laughing his ass off.
“Gerard, you stupid motherfucker, get your ass back in here, of course you’re welcome!” He grinned, tugging at my shoulder.
“Really?” I smiled.
“Sure man, we’ve been lost without you.” came Frank’s voice, standing a little way away from Ray with his guitar.
“I’ve been lost without you.” said Mikey, smiling up at me from his Bass.
“MCR’s not the same without your kick-ass vocals, man.” said Bob, from behind the drum kit.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Shit guys, I’ve missed you.” I laughed. “Well, it’s a good thing I brought us some new material then, huh?” I smiled, pulling out a sheet of guitar music, and lyrics from my backpack.

I handed the guitar sheet music to Ray, who immediately began strumming away, picking it up easily. He then worked his way around the garage, showing Mikey, Bob and Frank what would work well with the music I’d written on each of their instruments. It was crazy how fast the guys picked everything up, but, they had been playing for a fair few years now, so that explained a lot.

“Alright, I think we’re ready, wanna do a run through?” Ray asked.
“Sure.” I smiled, plugging in a microphone and putting the lyrics on a spare music stand.

Ray and Frank began to pluck away at their guitars, Bob came in on the drums at the end of the fourth bar, and Mikey followed soon after. I took a deep breath, and began to sing;

"I never said I'd lie and wait forever, if I died, we'd be together, I can't always just forget her, but she could try…”

Ray and Frank’s guitar playing intensified as we dived into the chorus;

“At the end of the world, or the last thing I see, you are, never coming home, never coming home, could I? should I?, and all the things that you never ever told me, and all the smiles that are ever ever...”

The music quietened down again as we began the second verse;

“Ever... Get the feeling that you're never, all alone and I remember now, at the top of my lungs in my arms she dies, she dies…”

As I remembered holding Jessica in my arms as she took her final breath and died, my voice cracked a little. But I kept singing, I’d written this song for her, and was determined to nail it.

“At the end of the world, or the last thing I see, you are, never coming home, never coming home, could I? should I?, and all the things that you never ever told me, and all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me, never coming home, never coming home, could I? should I? and all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me, for all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me…”

The music quietened down for a short few moments, and I let my emotions flow through me as I sang two short lines before the final chorus;

“If I fall, if I fall, down…”

“At the end of the world, or the last thing I see, you are, never coming home, never coming home, never coming hom, never coming home, and all the things that you never ever told me, and all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me, never coming home, never coming home, could I? should I? and all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me, for all the ghosts that are never gonna...”

“Wow.” Mikey exhaled, as we finished the song.
“It’s fucking incredible.” Frank said.
“Mind-blowing.” said Bob.
“It’s amazing.” breathed Ray. “Do you have a name for it?”
“Yeah.” I replied. “Yeah I do, it’s called The Ghost Of You.”