Infinite

Our soundcheck is pretty routine, and it feels good to be back on stage, doing something I know. But Madison Square Garden is huge. We’ve played at pretty large venues before, especially on this tour, but nothing this size. Nothing with more than 10,000 people in the crowd. MSG has a capacity for 20,000 people, and tonight it’s sold out.

Of course, they’re all there for My Chem. But still. It’s empty now, but I try to imagine what it will look like tonight – the anticipation, the chanting, the heat of all those people in this room. The other venues have been wild, too, but just thinking about performing here makes my stomach flip. It could have something to do with Gerard too, but I’m pretty sure that it’s at least half-and-half.

We try some songs out, editing the setlist somewhat from what it was last week. The guys seem to be just as excited as I am, and the guys in My Chem plus Pete are sitting on the floor with their backs leaning against the barrier by the sound tech, watching us and cheering every time something goes right, or wrong (like when Hunter drops his drumsticks or when I almost trip and fall over the microphone stand). Everything is generally going great, until Noel says:

"Hey, shouldn’t we play that new song?"

"The new new one?" Karl says. "We’ve played it like three times."

Noel shrugs, and looks at Hunter and me. Hunter shrugs too, and says: "It’s a great song. Maybe we shouldn’t go with it tonight though, 'cause nobody’s heard it."

I don’t say anything. I know exactly which song they’re talking about. And I know exactly when and why I wrote it. There’s been a lot of songs about Gerard this year, even though most of them never ended up being finished songs at all. This one did, though.

"Yeah, but it’s a great song, and we’ve still got some time, right?" Noel says, this time into the microphone, and gets a thumbs up from the sound tech.

Suddenly, they’re all looking at me. It’s like they haven’t even heard the lyrics to this song.

"Yeah, okay", I hear myself say. Fucking peer pressure. "We’ll see how it goes."

It’s kind of a different song from our usual sound – Gerard once described us as sounding like a mix of me and Karl, with Karl being the hardcore part and me being the more melodic, dreamy part. This song is definitely more of me than it is of Karl, since I wrote it on my own and didn’t show it to Karl until I was sure I was happy with it. It’s probably the only song that hasn’t been a complete collaboration, although Karl was happy to contribute with some changes that I hadn’t even thought of.

As I hear Hunter starting on the intro on the drums, I tell our very small but lovable audience:

"You guys are the first ones to hear this song. So thanks, and we’re sorry."

They cheer again, applauding. I grin in spite of my sudden nervousness.

I don’t look at Gerard during the first verse, but I’ve managed to get myself together for the chorus. And he’s looking straight at me – not in the way that Pete and the others are watching us, interested, but in a concentrated way that makes me realize that he’s listening to the lyrics intently.

This is the beat of my heart
black days and sky grey
and clouds full of fear
the fear of falling apart

Scars like souvenirs of this year
and there’s no you and me
just the clouds full of fear
it’s just the beat of my heart
the fear of falling apart

It’s strange, because when I wrote these lyrics, it never occurred to me that they would have a melancholy tune. So the song is kind of upbeat, but heavy, with the heartbeats of Hunter’s drums like a constant throughout the song. They stop for just a second before the chorus, and even though I can hear that this is not the best we’ve ever sounded, we nail that bridge. It’s good enough to be on the setlist for tonight, even though Karl misses his cue for the chorus and I mess up the chords once.

It ends the way it started, with the beating of the drums echoing like heartbeats, and the quiet that follows is deafening.

Lyrics are just lyrics, I try to tell myself. Lyrics stop being about just the stuff they were originally written about when the song is finished. It’s what artistic license is all about. Gerard knows that too, but on the other hand, maybe he hasn’t had that many songs written about his failed relationships.

Six people are standing up, whooping and applauding, and I can hear Pete shouting "this is why I fucking signed you guys!"

And Gerard is just standing there, smiling, but it’s obvious that he has understood every word.

-

Maybe this is the way it has to go. I’m a coward, and this is not the right time to talk about the important stuff – not when we’re both going on stage in front of 20,000 people in just a few hours. Singing that song may have been reckless, but in a way, I feel that it was the only way I could put it out there without saying it out loud.

I’m not sure what it is I’ve put out there, though. We’re hanging out in the green room later, when My Chem have had their soundcheck and we’re all just waiting for the show to start, doing our usual pre-show routines and generally being stressed out and extremely excited about tonight. I’m having a hard time sitting still, but Gerard is leaning against me on the couch so that I have to. It’s probably a good thing. Despite everything that’s happened, having Gerard close is still home. It’s still what makes me feel safe, maybe even more so since yesterday.

He has his head on my lap with his feet propped up on the armrest. The other are close, but the couch Gerard and I are on is on the other side of the room from them. I can see Noel and Ray talking on another couch, and Brian is on the phone, trying to work out some detail about tonight. Frank looks at me from across the room and smiles.

This is how it’s supposed to be. There’s something so right about this situation, with my fingers stroking Gerard’s forehead and him smiling up at me. And still…

"Hi", I say when he keeps smiling. I smile back.

"Hey beautiful." My heart makes a sudden leap. He probably doesn’t have the best view of me from my lap, but I’m not going to argue. Gerard looks back to the screen of his phone, and we’re silent for a few more minutes before he says:

"That song was kind of intense."

He throws a glance at me to gauge my reaction, but I pretend not to notice.

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Don’t be sorry, it’s an awesome song."

In a way, I’m thankful that he doesn’t push it. He doesn’t ask about how much of that song that is still accurate, or if I’m okay now, or if we should talk about what happened yesterday. All those questions are swarming in my mind, but none of them make it to the surface. It hits me that maybe he’s just as scared of letting go of this fragile closeness that we’ve achieved to risk it by bringing it up.

So we sit there until it’s time to get ready for real, talking idly about stuff that doesn’t really matter. The others join us after a while, and for about an hour, I have the best time with these guys. I don’t worry about moving to Portland or about Pete still looking so tired, or about having to reach some kind of conclusion about telling Gerard whatever it is I want to tell him.

And then, it’s already six p.m. and they’ve started to let people in. Infinity has a private pep talk in our dressing room, and we deliberately don’t talk about the future at all. There’s no mention of Portland, or Noel’s shaky relationship with Jake, or the fact that none of us really know how to address the week we’ve just endured. Instead, we go through our setlist one more time, and have one last argument about whether or not that new song is a good idea (even though we can’t really change the setlist now). Before we leave the room, I take off the thin, grey cardigan that I’ve been wearing over my t-shirt.

Karl looks at me for a second before he follows me out the door, but doesn’t say anything – it’s not the first time he’s seen my scars, but this time it’s different.

I’m afraid that Derek will say something about it when we pass him on our way towards the stage entrance, but he just high-fives us and grabs my shoulder lightly for a brief second.

"You ready for this?"

"I’m always ready for this", I say, forcing a grin.

-

By the time we leave the stage I’m so high on adrenaline that I feel like I could go up there again for another eight songs. I gulp down the entire contents of the water bottle one of the roadies has handed me, and I look around to see my bandmates in about the state that I’m in: completely worn out and exhilarated. We’ve just outdone ourselves in front of the bulk of tonight’s 20,000 people, and their cheering is still ringing in my ears.

As we make our way to the green room, I’m barely aware that I’m even walking. This is always the best part of performing, even though it’s bittersweet. Any of the doubts I may have had before going on stage are wiped away by the buzz of the moment, and I forget about the outside world for just a few minutes.

That’s probably why I fling my arms around Gerard’s neck the moment I see him, completely ignoring the fact that I’m drenched in sweat. I just can’t stop grinning, and he hugs me back tightly while there’s a little voice at the back of my mind asking me what the hell I’m doing. I shouldn’t be hugging him when I don’t even know what to tell him.

-

There's always a special kind of tension just before My Chem goes on stage, and this night is no different. When I went to their shows as a fan, there was always this moment when you realized that they would be getting on stage any minute. Backstage, it’s kind of the same. Everything quiets down for just a second. I’ve been off to change my t-shirt in our dressing room, and the whole backstage area seems almost deserted.

Gerard looks pale. He’s in his stage clothes, the black vest and the dress shirt and the black pants, and he’s rolling a water bottle from one hand to the other when I knock on the doorframe to their dressing room. He’s alone, sitting on the couch, and the door is open.

"Hi", he says, smiling a little when he sees me standing there. "I thought you’d gone up there."

The rest of Infinity has taken their seats in the VIP box. Normally we would have watched from the wings, but we were all tired and wanted to see the show sitting down.

"I just wanted to see you first."

Gerard smiles wider at this, but I can tell that something’s up. I sit down next to him. Close enough that our knees are touching.

"It’s gonna be a great show", I tell him. "The crowd is awesome. And it’s MSG. What could go wrong?"

He doesn’t look at me, and is still fiddling with the water bottle.

"It’s not the show I’m worried about."

He sighs, but doesn’t say anything more for a while. It’s not like I don’t get it, but I don’t know what I could possibly say to make it better. Not when he’s going on stage in five minutes.

He keeps looking at the water bottle, still shifting it between his hands, and I look at him. He’s frowning a bit. His hair is unkempt in a way that makes you think he didn’t do anything with it, but he really spent at least five minutes trying to get it that way.

There’s so much that needs to be said. I want to tell him about all these conflicting emotions, but I can’t even begin to put them into words. I want to tell him how much he’s changed me, but I want to think that he already knows. I want to tell him how much I love him, but I’m not sure it would help.

"Do you want to be with me?"

At first, I don’t even register what he’s saying. It’s such a strange question, and this setting is just wrong for it. This room should be filled with pre-show nerves, not this. When I don’t answer, he turns to me. Eyes wide, and he looks so vulnerable.

"Do I want to…"

"… be with me?"

I can’t look at him, and in a way, I think it dawns on him that I’m not going to throw myself at him the moment I look away.

"Right." The way he says it is so final, and I can hear the way he tries to keep his voice devoid of any emotion. He’s never been good at that.

"Gee, we shouldn’t be… God, you’re going on stage like now."

"I know. I just thought I’d want to know."

His voice is tight, controlled, but on the verge of something else. He gets up suddenly, and there’s something defensive in it. Like he doesn’t want me to follow him, but I do. He’s halfway out the door when I grab his wrist, and the look he gives me is not that of someone who’s looking forward to finally having a dream come through by performing at Madison Square Garden.

"Do you really want to talk about this, Gee? 'Cause I’m not letting you go up there thinking I don’t love you."

If there ever was a worse time for this conversation, it would probably have been during my mother’s funeral. I can hear Brian some distance away, his voice echoing through the corridors asking if anyone has seen Gerard. But Gerard himself is looking at me like there aren’t 20,000 people waiting for him.

"Of course I want to be with you, asshole." He looks at me disbelievingly, but there’s so much anger pent up with my emotions that I can’t keep it out of my voice any longer. "I love being with you, I love what happened last night." I slide my hand into his at this, and there’s a shadow of a smile on his face. "But I’m still mad at you. Don’t you get that? I told you, I love you, and I’m mad at you. It’s like… I can’t stop loving you, and I can’t stop hating the fact that I broke myself for loving you."

Brian’s voice is closer now. Frank, have you seen him?

"I want to be with you, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready. And all that stuff you told me about me being too young… It’s still there."

There’s so much relief in finally telling him, and I don’t realize that I’m crying until Gerard puts his arms around me and my tears are staining the fabric on his shoulder. He sighs.

"God, I really fucked this up."

"Yeah." I can’t help but laugh now, muffling my chuckle against his shoulder while my tears continue to flow freely. "Now get up there before Brian finds us."

"Just give me a minute."

He’s still holding me, and I still let him. It takes me a second to realize that he’s trying not to cry while also smiling into my hair.

"I love you", he tells me, and I can hear him trying not to cry, and I hold him tighter. "I get that you can’t be with me, but I do. I really love you."

I want to stay standing here forever, just stuck in this moment where Gerard telling me that he loves me is just that. But there’s Brian, at the other end of the corridor, and his "Gerard, what the fu…" dies out as he realizes that something is going on, and there’s Gerard, looking up from our embrace to tell Brian that he’ll be there in a minute. The real world.

"I need to go", Gerard whispers.

"Told you so."

He chuckles, and I smile, and for a second, everything’s alright. We’re just two people who love each other.

Gerard holds my hand while we walk towards the doors leading into the arena, and Frank, Mikey, Ray and Bob all smile as I tell them to break a leg, and Gerard puts his forehead to mine despite Brian telling him again to get a move on. Gerard’s hands on my shoulders, and my hands around his waist. I reach up to kiss him then, softly.

"Go out there", I tell him. "I’ll see you after the show."