Did We All Fall Down, Well After All

::Mikey's POV::

Gerard came and quietly sat down next to me with his mug of coffee. "So you guys want to come on stage tonight? Say hello to everyone?" he asked Adam and Mark and Matt.

"We don't want to ruin your show," Adam said in a whiny voice.

"You won't if we do it during the Revenge set," Frank explained. "And where would you like to view the show, Charlie? From backstage or in the pit?"

"I think I'll stay in the bus with Hannah." His eyes shot over to me for a second then back to Gerard.

"That sounds good. What about you girls?" Jamia, Alicia, and Christa looked at eachother.

"We can hang with Charlie," Jamia said. Alicia and Christa giggled. I turned to her.

"What's so funny?" Alicia laughed again.

"Charlie's face. I think he's afraid of us."

"I'm not afraid of you. I'm just afraid of being alone with a bunch of woman." Jamia gasped.

"We're not that bad." Frank snickered.

"Whatever you say."

:: One hour later::
::Third Person POV::

They had arrived at the venue to already be greeted by a few fans. Gerard, Frank, and Adam signed a few quick autographs while the others were lead off to the dressing room. It turned out that they were ecstatic to see Adam and the other two members from Taking Back Sunday. The word would quickly spread of there appearance and would be out on the internet in mere minutes. Back in the bus, Jamia and Alicia were trying to get Christa to spill about her feelings for Ray while Charlie sat lazily on the ground next to Hannah's bunk listening to "The Taste of Ink". He hadn't seen much of Bert, but he knew now that he was determined to get him out of Hannah's life. But the fact that she's pregnant with him and still "loves" him didn't really help.

"Is he a good kisser?" Jamia pressed on. Christa's cheeks faded to an even darker shade of red from embarrassment.

"I- . . . He . . . . Ray's amazing. I feel like I did back in high school." Christa was normal. An average looking woman. She didn't wear smokey eye make-up and have tattoos like Alicia. She didn't bleach her hair or act all spaztic like Jamia. She was plain. A perfect match for the brilliant Ray Toro. Someone to balance out his wild, loud, side. "And when he looks at me, it feels like my heart is crashing against my chest trying to get to him and I just. . . . he's so perfect. I lov-"

"Where the hell is the toilet paper?!" Leave it to a man to ruin the moment. Alicia sighed and rolled her eyes.

"The cabinet below the sink!" she called to Charlie then turned back to the girls.

"Love him," Christa finished. Jamia squealed and jumped over to give her a hug.

"I'm so glad Ray finally found someone!!! Now all we have left is Bob and Gerard."

"Ugh! I know a girl that wants to date Gerard, but she's such a fucking bitch!" Alicia said. Charlie walked in and sat down next to Christa.

"Her name's Eliza"

"Eww. It even sounds bitchy."

"I know, right? She's been doing their make up since 2004."

"So she's been with them for awhile?" Christa asked.

"Yes. And I hate her," Alicia stated, pure malice flowing from her mouth.

"What'd she ever do to you?" Charlie asked.

"She said I'm only with Mikey for the fame. Fucking hypocrite. She only wants to be with Gerard so she can be famous and fuck his brains out."

"Charlie??" It was Hannah. "Charlie?!" Her voice sounded urgent. He bolted up and went back into the hall. The three women followed. He pulled back the fabric that shielded her away from them. She looked red and her skin glistened from the thin layer of sweat that coated her.

"What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?" If it was a nightmare, she would be screaming.

"I feel sick." Charlie instantly pulled her out of her bunk and gently carried her to the back. He pulled off her jacket. "No! I'm freezing. Pl-please leave it on." Christa placed her hand on her forehead.

"You're burning up!" Jamia and Alicia placed their hands on Hannah's forehead as well.

"Oh my god, you are."

"Where does it hurt?" Charlie asked.

"My head, back, legs, throat, and it's so fucking cold!" She made a groaning noise.

"Let's take her to a doctor."

::Gerard's POV::
:: 48 minutes Later::

I stared out at the crowd, a smirk playing my face. I had just returned from changing out of my make up and costume and into "normal clothes". I was surprised at Frank, though, because he had chosen to really return to the Revenge Era. Thus meaning he had stuck in his lip and nose piercings and had drawn an X over his left eye.

Mikey was being silent and sending glares at the back of my head as the crowd screamed. He had seen me sneak in a few pills before going back on stage. I was getting sleepy since I hadn't had enough sleep the night before and not enough coffee this morning. According to him, I had slept nine hours and practically had a whole pot of coffee and my brain was just making up an excuse to have the drug, but I just ignored him.

"Are You Reeeeeeeeeaaadyyy!!!!?!" I shouted out at them. They replied back with cheers. "Then Let's FUCKING DO THIS!!!" And Ray started the opening chords of our first anthem, "I'm Not Okay".

After doing three songs in a row I stopped. My eyes glanced over to Adam, Mark, and Matt, who were messing around off on the side of the stage next to Worm.

"As some of you probably already know, we have some very special motherfuckers here tonight." The cries were deafening. "And they are standing somewhere out in the crowd." The shrill screams of the teenager girls took over the air. Frank started to laugh. Mark and Matt ran out on stage as Adam casually walked on looking around at everything as if he was in a museum. "Adaaaam?" I called.

"Yes?" he said into the cordless microphone he had been handed before making his appearance on stage with us.

"Would you like to sing a song with me?" I said in a British accent.

"Why yes, that would be quite lovely," he mocked overdramatically.

"Matt you can go be short with Frankie boy over there and Mark you can have fun with this tambourine."

"But not too much fun," Adam added. Mark stuck it between his teeth.

"M'kay. We haven't played this song in a few years, and normally we play it with those-who-must-not-be-named—"

"The Used," Adam whispered into the microphone, receiving mixed reactions from the pit below.

"But we're playing it anyway 'cause we fucking want to. So do you fuckers want to hear 'Under Pressure' or not?" They cheered. "'Cause you know we all do pretty on this song." I nodded to Ray and he started to play. I looked back behind me at the monitors that displayed my face a thousand times bigger then it actually was and smiled. This was being recorded. For Hannah.

::Bert's POV::

I leaned back on the couch after I finished snorting up the line. The high would hit me in about ten minutes. In the mean time, I reached for the remote and a bottle of Jack Daniels and flicked on the TV. Jeph came and sat down next to me.

"You should tell Hannah."

"Or at least break up with her," Quinn added from the kitchen. A girl in her early twenties walked into the room and sat down at my feet.

"That way I can have you all to myself and I won't have to have you running off to your little doll anymore." Noralea was my fuck this week. I had picked her up off the street about a week ago. I guess I have a thing for prostitutes.

"You know we really hate you doing this to her. Hannah is a sweet girl and she really cares about you. Imagine how terrible it will be when you end it with her. She's been through enough as it is."

"I bet if I get Gerard back into cocaine, it will break her even more." My feelings for the kid had quickly fallen about two weeks ago when I really got back into drugs again. Every form of affection I had shown her over the last couple of days was fake. The only thing I did like about her was that she was fucking hot and amazing in bed.

"Or heroin," Noralea mentioned as her hand ran up the inside of my thigh.

"Bert, don't do this! We thought you learned your lesson from all of those years you were completely baked twenty-four seven." I took another swig from the glass bottle as Noralea ran her fingers along the seams of the fabric near my cock. I could feel my high coming closer.

"Apparently not."