Keep the Faith
Lather The Blood On Your Hands Romeo.
The crimson light shines down on your pale skin, illuminating you on the large stage. The arena is filled with fans here to see you, Gerard Arthur Way, and My Chemical Romance perform to their satisfaction. The roars that are produced by the crowd bombard you, threatening to deafen you. The encouragement doesn’t stop and you show that crooked grin, mixed with a mischievous smile that everyone gathered around you has learned to love.
Soaked in sweat and nearly collapsing from sheer exhaustion that has come over your body during the show, you stride confidently to the front of the stage where eager fans scream in adoration. They thrust their hands forward, hoping to be able to touch their idol so that they can make sure that you aren’t some chilling apparition that will fade in front of their eyes.
You stand at the barrier, teenage kids touching your arms, waist and god knows what else.
Marriage proposals are yelled, despite you having found happiness with someone else. But suddenly, among the ripping shrieks of the crowd, a small whisper is audible.
“I heard he’s back on drugs.”
That is all it takes before more and more voices join in.
“Are you serious? It’s probably his wife. Probably getting him back into it.” A girl sneers.
“I think she only married him for the money.” Another says.
“Yeah, that’s all he seems to care about these day’s, just raking in the money.”
More and more ‘fans’ join in, before it becomes the only thing that you can hear anymore. Suddenly, the hands that once reached in admiration start to pull you down in revenge, a word you know all to well. You try not to fall into the venomous crowd, you try to keep your balance and to block the hateful shouts out, but one wrong step is all it takes. You stumble blindly and fall into the hordes of angry adolescents. Suddenly the song Teenagers takes on a frightening and literal meaning.
You land on the unforgiving concrete as fear floods your body. Feet start to kick your sides, sending hot and sharp daggers of pain ripping up your side. Darkness envelopes you as more join in, shouting their disapproval.
“Liar!”
“Fake!”
“Traitor!”
The blows slowly start to cease after a never ending wait and soon people start to trail out of the arena, exchanging their new found disgust. You are left, broken and defeated on the cold concrete floor. The arena is silent, and just when you think it’s empty, a small group shuffles forward.
They are a small amount, a miniscule fraction of the crowd before. They kneel next to your bruised body and help you slowly sit up as you groan in obvious pain. A girl with dark brown eyes speaks softly to you. “We still believe in you.”
You look around at the group, their nerdy smiles and genuine care rain down on you. “You believed in us when we had no inspiration, now let us do the same for you.” She smiles, her voice filled with emotion.
Rumours still fly around, ones that you may not even be aware of. Many say it was your new wife. I do not believe that. Yes, love changes a man, but certainly not for the worst. Some say that drugs have somehow found their way back into your life. I refuse to believe this too. I hang on to the belief that you are stronger then that. And some resort to the cliché, yes, money. But once again, I refuse to accept that.
What I do believe though, is that many ‘fans’ are abandoning you because your life is actually great for once. Weird as it may sound.
You are happy, have supportive friends, a sufficient lifestyle and a new found love.
You are not alcoholic or depressed anymore, and now ‘fans’ cannot feel a connection because of that. They can no longer directly relate to that.
You know what I think?
You shouldn’t have to be unhappy for fans to connect. You deserve happiness.
Some claim you as a god, flawless, they say. I do not believe that. I believe that you are a man who just made a difference in the world. You are my hero. And sometimes heroes need to show their most brutal flaws to show that they are still human, like us.
I shuffle forward from the group and kneel shyly down beside you. I look up at you with my grey eyes and smile before speaking softly. “No matter what. No matter how bad things get. How shitty life can be. You will always have us.”
I lean forward slowly and drop my voice to a whisper before staring into your eyes.
“Keep the faith.”
Soaked in sweat and nearly collapsing from sheer exhaustion that has come over your body during the show, you stride confidently to the front of the stage where eager fans scream in adoration. They thrust their hands forward, hoping to be able to touch their idol so that they can make sure that you aren’t some chilling apparition that will fade in front of their eyes.
You stand at the barrier, teenage kids touching your arms, waist and god knows what else.
Marriage proposals are yelled, despite you having found happiness with someone else. But suddenly, among the ripping shrieks of the crowd, a small whisper is audible.
“I heard he’s back on drugs.”
That is all it takes before more and more voices join in.
“Are you serious? It’s probably his wife. Probably getting him back into it.” A girl sneers.
“I think she only married him for the money.” Another says.
“Yeah, that’s all he seems to care about these day’s, just raking in the money.”
More and more ‘fans’ join in, before it becomes the only thing that you can hear anymore. Suddenly, the hands that once reached in admiration start to pull you down in revenge, a word you know all to well. You try not to fall into the venomous crowd, you try to keep your balance and to block the hateful shouts out, but one wrong step is all it takes. You stumble blindly and fall into the hordes of angry adolescents. Suddenly the song Teenagers takes on a frightening and literal meaning.
You land on the unforgiving concrete as fear floods your body. Feet start to kick your sides, sending hot and sharp daggers of pain ripping up your side. Darkness envelopes you as more join in, shouting their disapproval.
“Liar!”
“Fake!”
“Traitor!”
The blows slowly start to cease after a never ending wait and soon people start to trail out of the arena, exchanging their new found disgust. You are left, broken and defeated on the cold concrete floor. The arena is silent, and just when you think it’s empty, a small group shuffles forward.
They are a small amount, a miniscule fraction of the crowd before. They kneel next to your bruised body and help you slowly sit up as you groan in obvious pain. A girl with dark brown eyes speaks softly to you. “We still believe in you.”
You look around at the group, their nerdy smiles and genuine care rain down on you. “You believed in us when we had no inspiration, now let us do the same for you.” She smiles, her voice filled with emotion.
Rumours still fly around, ones that you may not even be aware of. Many say it was your new wife. I do not believe that. Yes, love changes a man, but certainly not for the worst. Some say that drugs have somehow found their way back into your life. I refuse to believe this too. I hang on to the belief that you are stronger then that. And some resort to the cliché, yes, money. But once again, I refuse to accept that.
What I do believe though, is that many ‘fans’ are abandoning you because your life is actually great for once. Weird as it may sound.
You are happy, have supportive friends, a sufficient lifestyle and a new found love.
You are not alcoholic or depressed anymore, and now ‘fans’ cannot feel a connection because of that. They can no longer directly relate to that.
You know what I think?
You shouldn’t have to be unhappy for fans to connect. You deserve happiness.
Some claim you as a god, flawless, they say. I do not believe that. I believe that you are a man who just made a difference in the world. You are my hero. And sometimes heroes need to show their most brutal flaws to show that they are still human, like us.
I shuffle forward from the group and kneel shyly down beside you. I look up at you with my grey eyes and smile before speaking softly. “No matter what. No matter how bad things get. How shitty life can be. You will always have us.”
I lean forward slowly and drop my voice to a whisper before staring into your eyes.
“Keep the faith.”