Keep the Faith
Tears
Tears.
Hateful tears.
Tears of humiliation. Hate. Anger.
But most of all, tears of betrayal.
Betrayed, that is how you felt when as you stormed of stage, throwing down your microphone to loud, relentless, abusive calls of ‘fuck you, Way!’ and ‘sell out!’.
“I quit! I fucking quit!” You yelled hysterically pacing furiously, gesturing with your hands the way Italians so often do when they’re upset. “I can’t do it anymore! The whispering-” you affected a high pitched, mocking tone of voice-“’You changed, sell out, sell out!’” Your shoulders shook as you slumped to ground, finally resting your eyes on me for the first time.
“Who the hell are you ?” You glanced nervously around as if I was one of those unfaithfuls, turning against you, turning into the very thing they, and the whole essence of the band, had stood against a few short months ago. I desperately tried to shrink back into the shadows, trying to avoid being the one under the full force of your wrath.
“Get her out of here, someone!” Your hazels blazed and your voice rose as you searched for whoever was guilty of this horrendous crime.
The fact of the matter, Gerard Arthur Way, is that no one is this room is responsible of that particular crime. Truth is, that the person most punishable is the driver of the log rig that rolled on the highway tonight, making me late for the Meet and Greet; a prize I had so desperately coveted.
I stared defiantly into your dark; moist eyes as you turned more and more hysterical, “Keep the faith, Gerard. I know I have.” With those as my parting words, I was pulled from backstage room full of your anxious band members and management, with a large and strong, yet surprisingly gentle hand.
”Sorry kid, it’s not you. It’s everyone else.” Worm muttered as he left me in the chilly outdoors.
Sitting on the pavement waiting for my parents to show up, I was startled by a large figure appearing behind me.
You.
“I’m sorry kid, about tonight.” You looked nervous, on edge; as if I could snap and I had been pretending all along, getting back stage just to break you down even more. I’m on your side.
“I understand, I do. And I am sorry you had to go through that.” I fumbled around in my bag.
“Yeah, well it wasn’t the first time. It was the last time, though.” You blew out a thin stream of smoke as I pulled my very reason for coming out of my bag. You regarded it apprehensively, “What is it?”
“It’s a book, filled with stories from fans. Fans who still believe, fans who don’t mind change, fans that still see the same guys behind the music as they did when they fell in love with Bullets, or Revenge.”
You took it, hands trembling as you ran your finger tips over the emblazoned silver calligraphy on the black, bound cover, ‘Keep the Faith.’ You looked at me, eyes moist once again, “I…thank you.”
“Keep the faith, Gerard," I whispered, my voice hoarse almost, "keep the faith.”
“I will. Always.” I left you standing there in the night. You, my Hero.
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sorry if the formatting is absolutely fucked.
http://www.mibba.com/forums/topic/32470/
Hateful tears.
Tears of humiliation. Hate. Anger.
But most of all, tears of betrayal.
Betrayed, that is how you felt when as you stormed of stage, throwing down your microphone to loud, relentless, abusive calls of ‘fuck you, Way!’ and ‘sell out!’.
“I quit! I fucking quit!” You yelled hysterically pacing furiously, gesturing with your hands the way Italians so often do when they’re upset. “I can’t do it anymore! The whispering-” you affected a high pitched, mocking tone of voice-“’You changed, sell out, sell out!’” Your shoulders shook as you slumped to ground, finally resting your eyes on me for the first time.
“Who the hell are you ?” You glanced nervously around as if I was one of those unfaithfuls, turning against you, turning into the very thing they, and the whole essence of the band, had stood against a few short months ago. I desperately tried to shrink back into the shadows, trying to avoid being the one under the full force of your wrath.
“Get her out of here, someone!” Your hazels blazed and your voice rose as you searched for whoever was guilty of this horrendous crime.
The fact of the matter, Gerard Arthur Way, is that no one is this room is responsible of that particular crime. Truth is, that the person most punishable is the driver of the log rig that rolled on the highway tonight, making me late for the Meet and Greet; a prize I had so desperately coveted.
I stared defiantly into your dark; moist eyes as you turned more and more hysterical, “Keep the faith, Gerard. I know I have.” With those as my parting words, I was pulled from backstage room full of your anxious band members and management, with a large and strong, yet surprisingly gentle hand.
”Sorry kid, it’s not you. It’s everyone else.” Worm muttered as he left me in the chilly outdoors.
Sitting on the pavement waiting for my parents to show up, I was startled by a large figure appearing behind me.
You.
“I’m sorry kid, about tonight.” You looked nervous, on edge; as if I could snap and I had been pretending all along, getting back stage just to break you down even more. I’m on your side.
“I understand, I do. And I am sorry you had to go through that.” I fumbled around in my bag.
“Yeah, well it wasn’t the first time. It was the last time, though.” You blew out a thin stream of smoke as I pulled my very reason for coming out of my bag. You regarded it apprehensively, “What is it?”
“It’s a book, filled with stories from fans. Fans who still believe, fans who don’t mind change, fans that still see the same guys behind the music as they did when they fell in love with Bullets, or Revenge.”
You took it, hands trembling as you ran your finger tips over the emblazoned silver calligraphy on the black, bound cover, ‘Keep the Faith.’ You looked at me, eyes moist once again, “I…thank you.”
“Keep the faith, Gerard," I whispered, my voice hoarse almost, "keep the faith.”
“I will. Always.” I left you standing there in the night. You, my Hero.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
sorry if the formatting is absolutely fucked.
http://www.mibba.com/forums/topic/32470/