Keep the Faith

Brian watched the band as they slumped down in the couches of their bus. They were completely drained, after giving every fibre of their body to the crowd.
But, Brian knew they should stop trying. It only tired them, making them more vulnerable for the hatred.

At the end of the day, the last they saw before falling asleep, were the disappointed faces they spotted in the crowd.

They didn’t understand, so it was stuck in their heads all the time.
As they never managed to find a solution to this mystery, it stayed on their minds, haunting them, as if the Paramour had returned onto their bus and stage.

He watched all of them, fixing his eyes on each member for a while.

Mikey’s eyes were, like always, glued to his games, trying to get absorbed into the unreal and get away from this nightmare that was once his dream growing up. He barely ate, and the toothpick of the band was showing malnutrition features, almost anorexic-like.

Ray kept playing guitar as always, but it lacked something, and Brian knew very well with that was. His playing missed his heart. His hair losing its life almost symbolized the life that was sucked out of him by needy people, wanting too much.

Bob, well, good ol’ Bob returned to his behind the scenes-self, but in a bad way. Behind the scenes lost its meaning of ‘behind the scenes’ and turned into ‘behind a mask of staring’. He looked into a darkness only he saw, eyes fixed on something unknown.

Frank picked at his clothing, and whenever a tattoo involving the band’s fans and such, he would quickly cover it again, the pain very visible in his actions. Out of everyone of the band, he would be the one who’d stay out the longest, trying to talk to and hug everyone out there. He always stayed his nicest self, even whenever he was having a bad day. All the guys did, but Frank somehow managed to stand out on that.

Brian’s eyes stopped when he got to Gerard. The off-centered front man, lead singer and hero. Saviour.

Well, that’s what they all thought.
This hero was the one who fell the deepest after people lost faith and left the band to mourn over the loss.

He watched Gerard, as the man sat in the couch. He saw a man reliving what happened four years ago. Pressure started to weigh down on the singer too much. It was hurting him beyond belief, and soon enough, it would break his back and paralyse him. He couldn’t bear the lies anymore, the harsh words pierced through his heart like sharpened silver. He had never done anything to deserve this treatment. Were it his onstage antics? Or the way he was very outspoken on some subjects, but they were normal. Anyone would have, should have a very outspoken opinion on things like racism.

It infuriated Brian how they wanted to bring the multitalented man down so badly. They were selfish, filling in Gerard’s capabilities, his character, and his heart the way they wanted him to be. In their minds, they created a superhero without any possible flaws. Soon enough, they realized he, too, slipped sometimes, they found out he was not the way they wanted him to be, not as perfect, so they pushed him off the pillar they had created with their own souls. He hurt himself badly as he hit the ground, but no one cared to help him stand up again. He was left alone by the ones he loved so much, and it had scarred him forever.

Once again, he retreated to his silent, broken self. What he once swore to never do again, was now natural for him to do. And it was not just inflicting self-harm. It was worse than self-destruction.
Brian’s eyes followed the singer as he stood up to walk over to the fridge and take another one of what now had become his best friends again, after a break of more than three years. The can opened with a sizzling sound, and he gulped down the alcoholic contents. Finishing the first one, which was actually number one gazillion of the day, he took another one.

Frank looked up from his shirt and motioned to Gerard to bring some for him and the rest of the guys, too. Gerard did as he was asked, and returned with a couple of six-packs. The band flew on it like starved wolves on a small remainder of some animal, just a skeleton with a bit of blood left. Brian sighed. The band needed to get loaded, in order to get the haunting questions out of their minds.
Gerard still loved the fans, even those who had hurt him, and he felt like it was his duty to prove them right. Not only his commitment caused this, but as said before, the many hurtful lies that killed him. He wanted them to stop. Getting drunk was his way out.

Brian’s mind wandered back to the days where the breakdown of the band started. He remembered fans being paranoid about the band breaking underneath the hate, and about Gerard falling back into the bad habits. Been there once, it’s easier to fall into its tricks again. Each time they saw him, they made sure he was still clean and sober. Worried fans, ready to give their lives in the most horrible ways to keep Gerard, or anyone of the band and their crew for that matter, safe.

After Gerard had heard the rumours of him returning to the good old favours of alcohol, he was hurt beyond belief. The ones of whom he had thought that supported him the most in becoming clean and sober, now stabbed him in the back several times, making him bleed severely. They became the biggest betrayers the world would ever know.
He had even cried over such stupid rumour, over people believing it, while those same people should be the ones who knew that he was so proud of being able to kick the addiction, and that if the need ever came back, he would fight with all his life to keep it away. The need came back eventually, but he turned out to be too weakened by the backstabbing to fight the urge. Even more, he happily accepted it, as he realized that they would carry him away from the bullshit.
Haters had outnumbered the caring fans, who had to watch the band crumble and fall, tears streaming down their faces, as they stood helplessly watching from the sideline. They were forced to watch the band who owned their everything die, and they could not do anything about it, as the flaming was louder than the screaming of their dying souls.

Gerard told the band of the lies he knew, and they talked about how hurtful they were. Questions of what they did do deserve this, multiplied in their heads. They slept even less, and the lies hurt them more. It was all a vicious circle.

They read of a rumour spread, that Gerard had hung himself in the back lounge of the bus, and looked at each other with tears glistening in their eyes. They could simply not understand why someone would say that.
They knew these were not the old fashioned haters, but fans who had grown to look down on them and now loathed them, proof being the rumours sometimes hitting sensitive subjects, or private details only die-hard fans could gather spending all of their time on the band. Why these fans had turned into the most venomous haters, no one knew. There simply was not a single answer.

One of their friends had sent them a video, of which he thought they had the right to know, and of course they did. It was a compilation of videos of Gerard, sniffing whenever he had a cold.
The title said “I told you he was back on cocaine”, the description went on telling on how he was on worse stuff as well, like heroin and shit like that, using the fact he wore big black sunglasses hiding his beautiful orbs and the fact that he barely ever wore something short-sleeved, using such habits of Gerard.

Random facts like that, they were not a sign of drugs, they were a cry towards the fans. A beg to stop all the bullshit, as Gerard lay sleepless at night because of them, a plea to stop spitting out such hurtful words, as the lies hurt him. It was not only a cry, but also a mask to hide his eyes behind, because he realized very well that, when he was not on stage, his eyes told about the weakness his own fans had created.

Brian remembered how sad Gerard sometimes was when he was thinking about all the bullshit rumours people spread and fans believed, making them stop believing in the band and their words, their cause.

But things only kept worsening.
People, fans, started saying the band lost faith. They told everyone they could that the band only did this for money, that they did not love their fans, that their fans scared them with their screaming ways and tearstained faces.. People starting spreading things like ‘the front man only cares for himself now, fame got to his head and now he’s up too high. He doesn’t remember what the band used to be about.’
What hurt them the most was, ‘The band doesn’t love what they do anymore.’ Everyone knew that the truth was that they did still love their job. Too much for their own good.
It was their downfall, their slip into deeper, more dangerous bog-like mud.

Brian got pulled out of his thoughts, as Gerard made a new movement after gulping down numerous beers. He dug his hand in his pocket, and Brian knew what the singer would do next.
He was right, as Gerard pulled his hand back out, holding a bag with white powder. The band glanced over to him from the corner of their eyes, and through their drunken state, it shimmered how much their best friend’s, their brother’s actions hurt them. It killed them.

He pulled out his credit card and prepared a double dose, creating perfect lines. He had gotten so used to it by now that it only took a couple of seconds. It took him just as long to get them both sniffed into his system.
No tears leaked from his eyes anymore, like they used to when he had just recently been broken by his own followers, and fell back into the addiction. He was too tired to fight something he, in fact, longed for. Escape.
He laid back as he completely relaxed, waiting for the drugs to start their effects.

As they did, he did not just start hallucinating like he always did, babbling incomprehensible words, but he got up, seemingly in an alright state, but his troubles to get to the door to the back lounge said enough.
The guys he left behind threw confused looks at each other, as this was something new, and they did not know what was going to happen next.

An hour passed, and the band decided to check on Gerard. If he had passed out, they would have to carry him to his bunk, like always.

They found the lead singer, hero of many people, ex-hero of even more people, multitalented man, hanging on a rope. His face was deathly pale, with blue-ish features, and his body hung there lump, nothing showing of a trace of life left.

The five men in the doorway thought, knew the same thing.

To stop the lies he made them truth.