Raynkieardkeyob

AN: Sorry Steve and Brain's first POV i posted by accident on Chapter 3 so i took it off and put it on her... This chapter was written by my friend! SO GIVE IT UP FOR LEIGH.

Steve’s POV:
I don’t know about those guys, but I’m worried.
I was walking back to the tour bus with all the prima donnas that like to call themselves My Chemical Romance…and manager. They were such divas that they didn’t see the spark in their former lovers’ eyes that had a little word written on it. That word was revenge.
Even Brian didn’t see it. That transparent little bloke thought that he was so sneaky, putting them up to it, and trying to get with their better halves behind their backs. I could read the whole plot in his face. And it didn’t help his lost cause that he talked out loud when he was meant to be thinking.
Why do you think a wise and handsome bloke like me is a bus driver, not a happily married man with a little Steve on either knee? Because my wife tried to kill me last year, that’s why! For forgetting to get mayonnaise.
So she’s now in gaol for attempted manslaughter. And I fled the country.
These guys had gone way past forgetting mayonnaise.
They had tried to play pranks on their loved ones. That means dire consequences. Besides, I don’t trust Jamia. She’s a mean one for being so small. Kinda reminds me of my wife, actually.
We approached the tour bus. The silence was deafening.

“I think I’m gonna have a smoke,” I said confidently, trusting that my smokes would be okay, because they were in my pocket the whole evening.
They all stopped. “Hank, you don’t smoke,” Gerard said patiently.

“Oh, but that’s cause I’m not Hank.”

“You’re not?” Frank looked very worried.
I looked around the circle of six confused faces. No, five – because Brian knew who I was, he went on. Ookay. This would be interesting.

“I’m Steve,” I said brightly, enunciating Steve so that Frank would understand. Sometimes I swear the little gnome doesn’t even speak the same language I do.
They all nodded wordlessly. Much like I saw other children do in class when they were taking in some vital information that they’d had no clue about before.

“And I’ve been your bus driver for the past year and a half,” I finished, smiling even bigger.
They kept nodding as the information was assimilating.

“Steve!” Mikey yelled. “Oh I know who you are! You’re the bus driver.”
I sat back, pleased with my handiwork. If I ever stop driving the bus for these munchkins, I’m taking up a career in tutoring. Fine, call it brainwashing. I’ll still be just as good at it!

Brian’s POV:
I fucking have to take a piss.
My Chemical Romance is officially renamed My Chemically Stupid. Or My Chemical Dumbness. Yeah, that’s got a good ring. Stupid idiots, forgetting Steve! He IS Frank’s daddy after all.
I stormed into the bathroom, bursting through the door, only to be greeted with…a fucking used tampon, swinging from the lightbulb!
I shrieked, and ran out!
I mean, I’ve heard of fans going so psycho they’d do crazy shit, but this was crazier than most. It’s just sick.
“Aw fuck!” I cried out. I’d got some of the…shudder…blood on my hand. I wiped it on a wall. It came off. But it was still on my hand. I wiped it on my pants. More came off. And it was still on my hand. I screamed.
Oh Momma, tell me this is a bad dream.

Frank’s POV:
Haha, Brian just ran out of the bus screaming. I wonder if he got the love letter I put under his pillow? Must have done – he’s screaming “This is crazier than most! It’s just sick!”
God, I love that man. If I weren’t straight I’d be with him, just to piss him off.
Oh well, time for some coffee!
I walked casually into the tour bus, conveniently at the same time as Gerard.
“Hey man, want some coffee?” I asked.
“Yeah man, I was just coming in to get some.”
We have the most awesome conversations – I just /love/ having a best friend I can really talk to!
Then I heard it! Brian was screaming for his momma.
“I think we need to do something to grow him up,” I mentioned to Gerard. “I’m getting worried about him.” Gerard merely nodded.
See what I mean? We totally /connect,/ you know?
Ugh! I fucking need coffee. NOW! Screw manly heart-sharing time!

Gerard’s POV:
I think Frank may have some issues with Brian. To tell the truth, I’m not sure the little bugger isn’t gay. Or bi. Whichever.
Cause he’s been so fucking jealous of the guy ever since April Fool’s. I just haven’t sat him down for a talk yet cause it’s too damn funny. I mean, Brian coulda been calling his momma just cause he’s too scared of Frank.
Frank poured me a cup of coffee. I’ve taken to drinking the stuff black, so I didn’t bother to put anything in it, just swigged it down.

“Uh, Frank?”
“What man?” God, he was like panting, he reminded me of an eager puppy. One that was about to get his fucking head blown off.
“What the fuck did you do to my coffee?” I let it explode, as I began pulling as much of Frank’s hair as I could fit in my hands. I mean, God! Coffee was like, the joy in my life, and he fucking ruined it! Suddenly we heard a high-pitched scream. What the fuck was wrong with Mikey?
“Mikey?” I called hesitantly, letting Frank’s hair go. Mikey came stumbling into the room, half-blinded by tears.
“The-the-the….the blood…” he stuttered. My face drained.
“Blood? What happened? Did someone shoot Bob?” Mikey dried his eyes to look at me oddly.
“No, Bob’s just fine.”
“Okay, what happened then?” I said, and Mikey resumed weeping and babbling.
“Tamponunderpillowfoundittheredidn’tthinkfanshateussomuchhhhh!!!”
“Mikey,” I looked at him odd. But he just kept sobbing violently.
“Mikey..” Still no answer.
“Mikey!!!” He looked up and gave me the evil eye.
“WHAT?!”
“In American, please!”

Mikey composed himself and looked coldly at me. “I found a bloody tampon under my pillow. I didn’t think the fans hated us so much. Understand now?” I nodded. And Mikey burst into tears. I patted him on the back. Poor boy. He didn’t deserve to know about these things – much too young.
I was gonna put some more coffee on. Don’t care what Frank says, it’s not Java Chip.
I flipped the switch on the coffee machine, and heard something that sounded like a miniature earthquake. It was coming from the coffee machine.
“Dude, what did you do?” came Frank’s voice.
“Just put on some more coffee, man,” I replied. I mean, the coffee machine cost like five hundred fricken dollars. It had so better have a silence mechanism, otherwise the damn thing was going down. Or it had better make really, REALLY good coffee. Cause the Java Chip tasted like fricken mud.

“Know what?” I said to Frankie.
“What?” he answered eagerly, all of the previous fight forgotten.
“I think we should get a new coffee machine. Cause if this is how Brazilians drink it like Brian said, I don’t think we want to drink it like Brazilians.” Frank nodded wisely. He knew the rightful place of coffee – first place. In anyone’s life.
It’s hard to describe the next few seconds. I get tears in my eyes when I think about it. And my ears start bleeding again.
There was an explosion. And Bob screamed. Twice. VERY loudly. And there was a thump.

That was Ray, fainting.

The explosion? That was the coffee machine. And the damn thing spewed rocks out of itself. And some other small wad of evil. But that landed in Ray’s hair, so it was okay. Like, we keep the kitchen sink in Ray’s hair, so it doesn’t matter what other small wads of evil take up residence there.
Bob’s screams. Well, I don’t exactly know what happened. But I caught the words: eggs, blood, Ray’s tampons, and bloody HELL! There is a tampon monster on the loose. And we had so better get to the bottom of it.
Frank and I gave each other a LOOK, and walked confidently into Bob’s room. Then we plugged our noses. Bob’s feet, and his new bedroom slippers, were covered in rotten egg and red stuff. And there were a couple of tampons in the mixture. Bob tried to laugh it off. But he was turning a little green.
So I took his arms, Frank took his legs, and we threw him into the shower. Frank turned on the water, and Bob screamed again. It was hot. Not hot like me. Hot like fire hot.
“You need a 3.4 heavy head wrench,” Frank instructed. I stared.
“Dude, I don’t even want to know why you know that.”
Frank offered a smile, and suddenly Hank…no wait, STEVE, was behind me, offering the weapon…oops, I mean instrument…um, tool, thing? WHATEVER…that Frankie’d asked for. Deftly, Frank fixed the shower, and we put Bob back under it to clean him off.
Then we went to get Ray. He was passed out in his doorway, and Frank tripped over him. Stupid fucker. Then Frank screamed!

“Tampons!!! They’re everywhere!” He was right – they were. I thought I was gonna puke. That was right before I puked. Luckily for us, it was out the window of the tour bus. Unluckily for Brian, he was standing right under it. Well, more like slouching, really. He was crying and wiping his hand on his pants. Then I puked on him, and … let’s just say his hand wasn’t the only thing he was wiping. Ahem.
Soon Bob emerged from the shower, wringing out his clothes. Mikey sent him outside. I swear, that dude is more like my mum than my little brother. Then Mikey began to clean. We sent Hank to get some heavy-duty gardening gloves to use to pick up all the tampons, wherever they might be hiding. He was gonna go through the whole bus after that. Hank went off dutifully, muttering something about better halves.
And I was gonna shower. Right after I brushed all that puke off my teeth. Whistling a merry little tune, I walked into the bathroom, pulled out my toothbrush and the toothpaste. I opened it, and a strange smell wafted out. Ooh, Brian’s obviously decided to walk on the wild side and NOT get mint flavour.
Well that’s cool. I didn’t really like mint anyway. I spread some on my toothbrush and stuck it in my mouth. Then /I/ screamed. Nothing so bad had ever entered my mouth. Even Mikey’s cum and tuna sammich wasn’t as bad as this. Nothing was as bad as this. My first impulse was to go back to the window and squeeze it out on Brian’s head whilst screaming obscenities. Since I’m such a spontaneous guy, that’s exactly what I did.
“Brian you fucker! This isn’t fucking mint toothpaste. This is fucking sewage toothpaste. Eat it!!” Brian reached one hand up, took some on his finger, and ate it.
“Hey, this is pretty good!” he squealed, getting as much as he could on his hand and eating it. “I’m so buying this flavour again. Give me that!”
He jumped, caught the tube in his hand, and fell back down on the ground, sucking the life out of it. Okay, weird. I didn’t know Brian liked to eat sewage. I don’t think this day could get much weirder.
“I’m going for a shower,” I muttered, to no one in particular.